#multi monitor madness

[mirqmarq428]

My laptop/desktop/server can only drive 2 additional displays, but I just gotta have that triple monitor setup. Tonight I finally made it work - had to go to Walmart and get a 25 foot HDMI cable.

Basically, the monitor is connected to another computer across the room which is then VNCing back into the main one. With a fullscreen viewer window on the monitor.

Annoyances:

There is a giant cord hanging over my bedroom door (it's mood but at some point I will need sth better to hang it with)

The mouse is invisible for some reason (Wayland tends to do that grrr)

If the display updates too fast it will crash the vnc server which also crashes the viewer. So both have to be running in while-true loops on the respective devices

I'm GOING TO FIND how to fix this Wayland invisible cursor issue. There's gotta be some cool feature nobody uses that errors out and causes no theme to be loaded and there's no fallback like on xorg or something

[voidhope]

The Other Woman

—

Synopsis: Where Miguel leaves Y/N to go back to a different version of his old wife found in another universe.

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader

Tags: ANGST!!, long term established relationship, heartbreak, marriage, cheating, mental health, cold/distant Miguel

—

A/N: Hi! I don’t really write at all!!

I have been a silent reader on tumblr for years but this idea has been playing in my mind so much I had the urge to write it. I have been down so bad for Miguel been on his tag like 24/7 indulging in all the content creators have been putting out. So I’m excited to join in giving content, however keep in mind I kinda suck! Apologies for any mistakes, anything confusing, or it not being well written enough. Honestly could have made this into multiple parts with better details but nah. Tried my best ^^ since it’s my first time, any feedback is greatly appreciated!

Honestly tbh we all don’t have a solid grasp how the whole canon thing and multi universe works yet so!! A lot of what is written is made up to suit my storyline so please don’t get mad about the inaccuracies.

I love a good angst and today’s story will be EXTRAAA angsty!!! As well kinda long!!

—————————————————

The moment that changed your life was while working on an experiment during your college finals. You were a proud and gifted physics major that was so passionate about discovering and exploring what the world didn’t know.

You had snuck into Alchemax late at night. You wanted to show your professors just how much you could do with the right tools. Next thing you know, playing with their machines, you had spawned a spider right in-front of you. The glowing vibrant red spider had sunk its jaw into your hand.

Your life did a complete turn and you spent the rest of that week freaking out while changes to your body were happening. Causing you to fail your semester after missing exams. Things felt like it could only get worse when a massive blue suited masked man showed up out of nowhere in your dorm interrogating you.

“Where’s the spider?” He had a strong grip on your shoulders. You couldn’t focus while trying to process why this man had what seemed like claws sticking out of the ends of his fingers.

“I don’t know, it like died after it bit me!” You exclaimed nervously at the freakishly strong man. Trying to reach for anything behind you to use as a defense weapon.

“Dios mío no me digas eso…” He groaned loudly letting you go. Having the opportunity to grab something, you threw a sanrio plushie at him. Only causing him to wave his arms in annoyance. “That spider is from my earth and somehow you brought it here. Now you’re a spider-man.”

And the rest is history…

—

You learned that the man was Miguel O’Hara and when he found you he was just starting his missions with the multiverse. You being the few of the firsts to join his team.

Your situation was quite bizarre and he called you an anomaly for a long time, spending hours studying you and also training you. You ended up being the one case that can’t be explained no matter how much effort was put into monitoring you.

Almost like it was meant to be. Your universe remained perfect with its current spider-man doing fine. No big collapse of a black hole or anything. When you got bit by a spider from Earth-928 your DNA merged with that universe making you fit in perfectly. You were one of the only spider-people with an uncertain timeline with new canons being created depending on what universe you were in.

What changed from you being just a piece of research for Miguel is when he then realized that maybe you were a gift from the multiverse. After all the grief and pain he’d went through the universe had given him this person that worked out perfectly no matter how hard he tried to push them away. You fell head over heels for him and vice versa, all while canon events were being created with both of you together.

You were there as his team grew, slowly turning into a family. Then both of you getting married finalizing that this was your home. Everything felt perfect. Although a relationship with Miguel could have its up and down days, nothing could ever tear you both apart. Or so you assumed.

—

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Miguel couldn’t look at you.

“When did this start? Please be honest with me. Did I do something wrong?” You begged at him. You knew he was acting off recently but never did you think it would result to this.

You watched as he exhaled deeply staring at the ground. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you studied his face trying to grasp onto any emotion he was showing. The atmosphere in his office felt so cold. You so badly wanted to catch his gaze and find the warmth and love his red irises used to give you. He was doing everything to push you away. He was abandoning you.

“You did nothing wrong. I met her during a mission 4 months ago.” Was all he replied.

“Who is she?” Your heart kept breaking. His face hardening as the question slipped through your lips. You knew Miguel wouldn’t leave you for just anyone. Deep in your heart you knew what this was about. He never responded but he didn’t need to when you saw his eyes flicker over to his monitor screens. You followed his trace and saw the photo of Gabriella in the corner.

“Does she have another version of your daughter?” You tried again. This is what made him look directly at you. Miguel kept opening and closing his month unsure how to tell you the truth. You weren’t stupid and he knew that. After everything he couldn’t just walk out on you with a lie.

“No.” He paused thinking of how to finally share the truth without it ruining you. There was no way out of this. “She is a younger version of herself. There is no Miguel in her universe and she’s not important to the timeline. She lives a regular life. I-it’s a chance for me to start at the very beginning.”

You felt your heart being ripped out of your chest. You processed the words carefully. She doesn’t have a child yet… Not only was he leaving you for her but he was going to fall in love with her all over again and start a family with her. A family you wanted so badly to have with him.

“What about with what happened last time you tried to live a life in a different universe?” You didn’t understand how this was happening.

He was always so carful he would never do anything to cause that again. Everything you had witness Miguel work so hard for to keep safe for years. Sleepless nights, returning bruised and beaten, frustrations and constant stress. Was it all for nothing? Is he throwing all his work away?

“This is different.” He turned away from you. “I pushed myself then into an already established life. This time I am creating that life. After all the research we did on you…” He knew that this was going to tear you apart. “I learned that if done right I could have a child from two different universes that won’t disrupt anything.”

It clicked to you then that all the research he was doing on you lately was for this. The research he did on you that time was different, personal, intimate even. As he was testing your DNAs together and seeing the outcomes. He mentioned a child and you were foolish enough to assume he was doing research to see what it would be like if you both had one together. You were giddy even as you watched him work. You had both spoken about having a family together in the past but had been too busy with spider activities. You thought it was a sign of him getting more serious about it, knowing how badly he wanted one. You would have never thought he was doing it to see how he could get back his previous child. The one you could never give him.

You had truly believe that Miguel had recovered from his obsession that his grief gave him. He accidentally destroyed a whole universe needing that life back so badly. You had spent late nights watching him re-watch clips over and over of what he had lost. It slowly stopped once your relationship blossomed with him and you thought he was ready to move on and start new. Why would you have never thought that with such a perfect opportunity presented to him that he wouldn’t drop everything for it.

“I think it’s best that you leave.” He spoke with a soft tone. As if not looking at you any longer will make the problem go away. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how he was just throwing you away like this. As if he wasn’t making you dinner, giving soft kisses, whispering I-love-you’s not so long ago.

You felt too choked up to ask anymore questions. Your throat tight and painful as you held back tears from escaping in-front of Miguel. You just nodded and headed straight out the door not being able to handle another second in that room. Your knees and hands were shaky as you speed walked into the nearest bathroom and let it all out.

—

It didn’t take long for everyone else to know something had happened. Everyone had gotten used to seeing you and him sitting together at lunch. You would make him cute lunch boxes and everyone would gag a bit while watching the two of you smile together. Some cringing seeing their scary boss being so soft around you. It was a big surprise when Miguel started to eat alone with a bag of take out food and you no where to be seen.

His teams he sent out for missions were all confused when you weren’t assigned to anything. Knowing you were one of the best, one of them slipped out a “Call for Y/N!” In the middle of fighting an anomaly too strong for them. Miguel only looked away.

It wasn’t until a new woman showed up in Miguel’s office with a grip around his waist. That’s when the spider-community realized that this was way worse than they thought.

—

You on the other hand had spilled everything to Hobie when he caught you that day leaving the bathroom with puffy eyes. You had been staying with him in his universe until you could gather yourself together to return to HQ. You knew you were going to leave for good, but you needed to go back to retrieve all your things. You couldn’t stay with Hobie forever. Worse that you weren’t from there.

You still had some hope that Miguel would come looking for you and tell you that he was all wrong. However almost two months had passed and not a word from him… That’s when you knew it was time you should return to what you once knew.

Stepping into the portal Hobie followed close behind you. He told the few others who were once close to both you and Miguel that you would be visiting. Stepping through the portal you were immediately greeted by Jessica and Peter B Parker.

“Oh, Y/N.” Jess sighed your name sadly while pulling you into a hug. You felt like you wanted to cry all over again. Missing your friends so much. Peter B came behind giving you a hug on the side.

“He’s on a mission right now.” Peter spoke up. “It might be a long one too but don’t waste anytime just incase.”

You nodded pulling away from them. Looking up around the headquarters building faintly smiling at the past memories you had here. You started heading to different areas gathering all the little things you had left around. Hobie had stitched for you a cute backpack with different scraps of patterned clothes and covered in patches of punk band logos but made with hammer space technology. Making it fun for you to fill endless of your things in the bag.

The last stop was in Miguel’s office. Doubt started to fill your mind; maybe he already threw out all of your stuff. Why would he even keep it after all of this? What no one could warn you of was the other person sitting on his platform.

“Hello!” She chirped at you. It felt like the air in your lungs had just been punched out. You knew her too well. From all the photos and videos you had seen peaking over Miguel’s shoulder. However seeing her in person was something you had never expected. You knew it wasn’t the original her but it was a copy paste image for sure.

“Hi.” Was all you managed to choke out. She was beautiful, stunning. You could see clearly now the similar features she shared in another universe with her daughter. The parts that Miguel didn’t have. She kept smiling kindly at you, almost in a graceful way. You started to feel all your insecurities start eating you up from the inside. How could you have ever compared to her.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Getting off Miguel’s platform she walked closer to you. The room started to feel suffocating.

“Y/N.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you! It’s nice to meet other girls around here.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized she had no reaction to your name. So Miguel never told her about you… Or that the fact was he was still even legally married to you.

“My boyfriend isn’t here right now but, if you want, I can tell him you stopped by.” She continued as you stayed silent.

“Oh, no it’s okay. I just came in here to get some stuff.” You rushed as you really wanted nothing to do with Miguel at all. You almost worried that he might even get angry knowing you got to speak with her. If he already dislikes you this much you couldn’t even imagine how he would feel if you got in the way of this for him.

You started heading over to the familiar drawers around the room. Grabbing your old hoodies and shirts finding your most comfortable of things here. You treated this place as one of your safe spaces as you used to spend so much time here.

“Oh I didn’t know these were all yours! I was wondering why this was all around. When I came here I wanted to do some spring cleaning but Miguel wouldn’t let me touch anything.” She followed besides you. “It’s so mind blowing seeing all this technology. We don’t have any of this where I live-“ She continue rambling but you started to zone her out. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack any minute. There was one question that kept burning in your mind.

“Are you and Miguel already planning to have a child?” You blurted out. Your eyes widened a bit as you surprised yourself. She let out a loud laugh.

“Oh dear no! We have only been together about 6 months. You must be new around here so you must not know much about us.” She chuckled.

In some cruel way you were hoping she would have said yes. You had that twisted hope of maybe Miguel just keeping her to have a kid and ditching her after he gets Gabriella and run back to you. In reality he was playing the long game, he really meant it when we said he was starting over. “He’s never mentioned kids anyways. I’m not even sure if he’d like them or do well with them.”

With that statement she made you looked at her appalled. Anyone could see in Miguel how good of a father he could be. Just in the way he takes care of the society he built here. You started to realize that she really has been left in the dark. She doesn’t know anything. She probably doesn’t even know that she’s a replacement of another self. You wondered why Miguel was doing this. It felt like he didn’t just toy with you but with her as well. A man you came to love for how selfless he was, to realize now everything was for his own personal gain. Suddenly you started to feel bad for her. You couldn’t dislike her, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and she doesn’t even know.

“I got all my stuff. Nice to meet you.” Was all you could say as you zipped up your bag and turned straight around out of there. Not giving any glance back at her, you left to one of the empty training rooms to recollect your overwhelming thoughts. All of the self healing you tried the past month thrown in the garbage.

It wouldn’t be too soon that news of you going around the building was returned to Lyla. You had cut out all coms while you were gone so she immediately popped up on your watch when she found out.

“AH-“ You jumped as the tiny AI was suddenly in front of your face.

“It’s so wonderful to see you Y/N. Oh my god!”She started. Then she went on rambling about how she knew everything and had seen everything. How she didn’t agree with what was happening and was doing everything she could to convince you to stay. After 5 minutes of her rambling you stopped her to let your emotions out.

“Lyla, Lyla It’s okay. Just stop. It’s all complicated I know, but this didn’t work out. I wished Miguel just cheated on me like all the other fucked up normal men out there. That I walked in on him deep in another random girl. Though painful I could have tried fixing and fighting for us. But instead what I got was him emotionally cheating on me and chase after something he knows I can never give him.” You felt yourself choke up. “I can never ask him to give up what he longs and dreams for just for me to be happy. I lost this battle the moment he laid eyes on her.”

Finding comfort in the AI your husband made. You’ve created a bond with Lyla that Miguel found cute but you knew now this might be the last time you’ll be speaking with her.

“You can give him a family y/n… you guys have been married two years now. I know you’ve both set the thought aside until the multiverse issues are better but you can fight for him. You have to snap him out of his fantasy. He still thinks about you.”

“Lyla you know deep down truly he never just wanted a family. He wanted exactly what he had. What he lost. Which should be impossible but being by his side seeing how insane the multiverse is… Good for him for believing in something so hard he’s found himself even a third chance to do it.”

“I hate that you’re being too kind about this situation.” Lyla paced around you.

“I love him so deeply Lyla. You know that very well. It’s so hard to suddenly hate him. I am angry, but I’m also emotionally drained I can’t do this.” You let out a deep sigh. “I’ve watched him long for this family when we just met. For some stupid reason when things worked out for us I thought I would be enough… When we got engaged and he would spend some days at home with me not even coming to HQ. I thought he was finally moving on not just from his grief and past but from the weight of his work. I saw a bright future for us.”

“You can still have a bright future with him! You moving here gave him a new canon event, another chance at life in his timeline. Here in his own universe! He’s just too obsessed and he’s lost himself in that.” She exclaimed with her hands up.

“Our canon event was our wedding.” Your frowned deepened. “But the universe didn’t say anything else after. It doesn’t say our canon event means we are suppose to live happily together forever I guess.”

“I’m just trying my best to be optimistic. I rooted so hard for you and Miguel when you joined the team. I know you can remember the amount of times I would force you both in rooms.” Lyla recalled.

“And I’m grateful for it… Even if this didn’t work out. I was given precious memories, not just working with you and being on this team but falling in love with Miguel. I know I’m being all depressed and hopeless but I feel like even if I move on I’ll never be able to replace him and find a relationship like this again. However he threw me away so easily and maybe he never valued me as much as I did to him.” You felt your emotions bubble. “I became who I am here. I’m going to miss everyone so much.”

“You can still stay here and work with us.” She edged on.

“I can’t just sit around here begging at his feet to return to me or moping around doing missions while watching him with someone else. I want to hate him so badly. I know he’s your boss and you’re basically hardwired to do everything for him and you’re trying your hardest to fix what you think is his right path. But think of me a little more and how miserable it’ll be. I’m the only one hurting here.”

Lyla paused and stared at you with an almost glossy-eyed look. While she worked she could see the inner term-oil Miguel was hiding and the emptiness he was turning to since trying to start new in the other universe. It just wasn’t her place to hold this conversation and he was the one who needed to get a grip of himself and really think and talk with you. She can’t be the one trying to mend the pieces for both of you together. What Miguel did was so wrong. She knew you were right and she didn’t want to see any more damage be caused to you.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looked up at you sincerely. “I hate this outcome for you. Not only are you loosing your husband but your home. When was the last time you’ve even been in your universe?”

“Like a year ago for a mission…”

“Exactly! Even if things are over with Miguel, you have all of us here! I wish you could stay. I understand you leaving, I really do. I know a lot of us will try visiting you but I’m tied to Miguel…” You started to see how it clicked for her too that it’s most likely you might not see each other for a long time. “Even if a spider-person is visiting you I can’t just show up on their watch… It’ll go back to him and I know you wouldn’t want that. I know I’m an AI and I can’t hold real emotions but I mean it when I say I’m going to miss you.”

Tears poured down your cheeks as her words hit you. Going back to your universe is going to be a struggle. You have nothing there now. However nothing can compare to the pain of the outcome you’ve had with Miguel, and you needed out of here ASAP. Your mental health getting worse the longer you stay. Even the other spiders you have come to love can’t bring that spark back right now. You needed genuine time for yourself, even if it’s self destructive, instead of putting on a fake smile everyday here.

“Bye, Lyla.” You whispered. She nodded and waved her hand goodbye at you before disappearing. You took your watch off your wrist placing it on a nearby desk. With it you pulled the divorce paperwork out of your pocket neatly sealed and already signed on your half. Opening a portal you took your last glances at the place you spent so many loving memories in.

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped through the portal. Once your legs landed on a rooftop of a building in your dimension, you racked out full sobs falling to your knees.

You were always just the other woman.

—————————————————

Thank you so much for reading!! I know it was a longer one ~

would anyone like a part 2? If so anyone want a angsty or happy ending? I think it’ll be more in Miguel’s perspective as well!

EDIT: You can now read PART 2 here

[eltingvilleclubconfession]

I have headcanons of video games the Eltingville Club members would play:

Bill: Any Marvel games like Marvel Rivals with the rest of the guys, he would play a lot of competitive games and get voice chat banned for harassment and blame it on his “ranked teammates” although he’s the one that’s either a sweat or always dying.

Josh: Destroy All Humans, Atomic Heart, the Fallout franchise or any games relating to Sci-fi or post apocalypse. He’d also play a lot of open world games and grind on World of Warcraft while watching Star Trek on another monitor (Multi tasking lol)

Jerry: He’d have 500+ hours on Baldur’s Gate 3, favourite Elder Scrolls series is Oblivion, obviously plays Final Fantasy and Zelda and is a big fan of Nintendo games, would also play World of Warcraft but likes Wizard 101 more. Also enjoys cozy games like Stardew Valley and Sims but gets bullied by the others because it’s “games ment for girls”. He was also a club penguin player before it shut down.

Pete: Oh god. He would play those edgy newgrounds flash games like Picos school or sandbox torture games like people’s playground. He’d also enjoy Postal, Manhunt, Hatred and Doom and horror game franchises like Silent Hill and Resident Evil. Loves l4d2 but complains that fast moving zombies are not accurate. He’d also play a lot of horror Jrpgs like Corpse Party, Mad Father etc and get very invested in the story too.

[zeichannnnn]

⚠️ In regards to the natlan controversy (and Sumeru by proxy)

Do NOT accuse people of being racist just because your skin colour cannot be found in a game. Learn to know that people don't live in the same situation as you.

Please read this fully for the reality of things I'm sorry for getting political, skip if you don't want to interact

I’m kinda sad at the fact that a lot of people are quick to hate, judge, and scrutinise Hoyo without understanding the situation.

With recent teaser of Natlan characters, people are rightfully upset at the fact that the characters shown to hail from Natlan… don’t exactly look the part. With characters lighter than my own skin tone (I’m a Chinese Southeast Asian by the way, heya) people are calling hoyo bullshit and accusing them of being a racist for failing time and time again at giving us characters with POC shades of skin. Now I’m not here to defend Mihoyo for their actions, or to tell you to stop being mad at the situation being the way they are. No, I’m here to shed you some light of how life is as a game company under the rule of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and Xin Jin Ping (XJP cause I won’t be bothered to type his whole ass name)

I've highlighted points of each section

Any pages that requires translations, I recommend using DeepL instead of google translate because you can check the meanings of specific words and it's translation are better (imo)

Skip to the last part if you just want a summarised version

Before we get into the nitty gritty that is Genshin drama, I'll give you a run-down on what and how China works.

check the part "In relation to Genshin's design choices and how China's beauty standard influences it" if you want to go straight on to the point

People’s Republic of China

is a Unitary Marxist–Leninist one-party socialist republic. This means that China is under a one-party (Chinese Communist Party) rule with communism ideology on how they rule and govern the country and socialist standards for how they manage their economy and everything else. [.]

The CCP holds a very nationalistic view

[.] which is commonly used as propaganda [.] for them to garner either sympathy or control over the people of China. These nationalistic view, in its raw and most rudest form, simply states that Chinese people are pure by upholding traditional Chinese culture (that's not even traditionally Chinese, more or less more catered towards communism and the CCP's ideologies which are that they're great and everyone else is wrong) and not mixing themselves or tainting themselves with things that are not pure (i.e. anything that isn't Chinese, from China, belongs to China) This nationalistic views, which glorifies China and detests anything foreign (i.e. culture, language, people, etc.) have led to a lot of xenophobia being built and nurtured inside of China's society [1] [2] [3]

Aside from the CCP's nationalistic views,

China's society is very censored and monitored by the CCP

[.] Google, YouTube, or more specifically, the internet itself is heavily banned by the government, electing the people to use the CCP's private internet that allows them to be monitored 24/7 through IP location and private information. [1] [2] [3] [4] Aside from heavily monitored and controlled internet access, people in the real world are also actively being watched and monitored through CCTV with facial recognition features and an AI that can predict people's action (yes, exactly like the akasha, and yes, Sumeru arc is based on reality, I won't talk about it here but feel free to read between the lines and compare it with the sources and news articles I'm about to drop on you) [1] [2. Behind paywall] [3] [4] [5]

With its censorship in mind, let us talk about what brings us all here:

the gaming censorship in China.

In order for a game to be published in China, whether it's made by an indie or a multi-billion dollar company, the game has to go through a complicated preliminary test made and assigned by the CCP to play, test, and go through your game before publishing it anywhere in Chinese media [.] This test includes you company's paperwork, your game's paperwork, the things you're displaying in your game, and the story it's trying to tell. There are not that many rules on what should and should not appear inside of your game, such as: polyamory, the undead (in both graphic and non-graphic manner), etc. That should be considered tame and should cause no problem, however, we do have a problem with one of the rule given which is: Emphasizing Cultural Sensitivity.

Emphasizing Cultural Sensitivity

in the article I've mentioned before, describes it as "Games should impart “correct” information on politics, law, and history, as interpreted by the authorizing agency." Now what does "correct" information entail? Who fucking knows because truth is relative. Facts, when in the eyes of the CCP, are relative to what they believe is to be right and what they want us to believe is right.

Now with that out of the way, let us get into the main deal.

MiHoYo

(not to be confused with Hoyoverse/Cognosphere which is their international branch) is a is a Chinese video game development and publishing company, founded by three classmates from university Cai Haoyu, Liu Wei, and Luo Yuhao [.] That means that Genshin Impact's development, ever since it was at its infancy, first-established days, and updates until the near future, are all subjected onto that game censorship law that I mentioned earlier. Now you might all be wondering, what does all of those rules have to do with genshin characters having dark skins? To that I point you towards the fact that MiHoYo and the CCP are and have been actively working together ever since around September 2021. [1] [2]

Cooperation between MiHoYo and the CCP

Ever since Genshin Impact's massive hit both nationally and internationally, its massive fanbase has hit the internet no one has ever seen before. It is the first ever Chinese game that has gotten world wide acclaim and with that, new eyes begin to look upon China. It is no surprise to anyone that Genshin is very particular about showing and promoting Chinese culture to the outside world. Genshin has somehow become the face to Chinese culture in just a year, with limited events such as Lantern Rite and Moonchase festival to showcase China's cultural beauty. With world-wide acclaim comes a price, wherein the CCP no longer treats Genshin as "another game" but a tool that they can use to promote and advertise themselves into the global population.

Begin the censorship and micro-manipulation of things in Genshin

New gaming censorship dropped after the Genshin Impact became a hit in the industry, with even Venti and Gorou as examples of characters that should not appear in media published in China (effeminate man) [.] In additional to the list I've linked in the "the gaming censorship in China" section, a lot more additional rules have been added to that list, such as: queer representation, morally grey character, but I what I want you to look at more is the section where "historical elements, including characters, maps and clothing, should conform with mainstream accounts." in addition to that, a self-regulation pact was made between game companies and the CCP that bans any and all content that is deemed "politically harmful" and "historically nihilistic." Now focus more onto that "historically nihilistic" point, what does that mean?

Historical nihilism

is a term used by the CCP and many Chinese scholars to describe research or discussions deemed to contradict an official state version of history in a manner perceived to question or challenge the legitimacy of the CCP [.] TLDR; it's a term used for when what you're saying clashes or goes against what the CCP said. Why is this important you may ask? It's because that now, at this point, if anything Genshin does something—whether that'd be plotline, design etc.—that the CCP thinks shouldn't exist or be represented, they have the lawful right to block or stop it from reaching the final product. Now this, this is what happened to Genshin's Sumeru and Natlan cast.

In relation to Genshin's design choices and how China's beauty standard influences it

white has always been a predominant part of modern Chinese beauty culture, for some reason (I don't know and I'm not going to go that deep into it, research it on your own if you're curious) In fact, it's not only China but also Asian culture in general. White skin has always been hailed as pure and beautiful here in Asia, where the line "as pale as the moon" is a common compliment to give to someone. Skin colour that are tan or even darker are connected to being dirty or stinky. Despite the younger generation not really adhering to that view, the older generation (calling out the CCP here) upholds that standard till this day. Pin straight hair, round eyes, pale white skin, and a thin figure are the standards put upon those born as female. Their male counterpart are not that different, with lean and fit being the preferred body type rather than big muscles or bulky forms.

The reason behind why this is the case is because of Asia's strict social code in rules and appearances. We must appear prim and clean, that means no dyed hair, no tattoos, no piercings, and minimal make-up. Anyone that goes against those rules are regarded as delinquents or deviants that usually break the rules and do criminal activities (despite it not being the case) Having a bulky stature also applies to that list, regardless of what gender you are, and especially for men. You're regarded as dangerous, criminal, bad influence if you look like that in public (this is why we don't have that much bulky characters gang and why we were robbed of heavy muscles Itto orz) (he deffo was very bulky in the original design, probably similar to the Nobushi but it got nerfed in final product)

Given all of that in mind, it's no wonder that Sumeru's and and Natlan's casts are mostly white... but were they always that way?

The original skin colour design for Natlan cast might've been darker than what we have in the final product.

As a lot of people have mentioned (especially with the many beautiful edits I'm very fond of) the character designs for Natlan's new up-coming rosters looks better with darker skin tone. Take for examples this edit right here:

taken from @ rarepairz on twitter [source]

Their designs (with darker skin tones) seem to pop more, giving highlights onto their clothes and accessories in comparison to the original design. Here are more examples of this happening:

taken from @ Wabs_nabs on twitter [source]

It is especially clear to anyone with basic colour theory that the colour used for designing the clothes and accessories and highlights in the hair look better with darker skin colour. There is *intent* on making it this way in comparison to woeful ignorance of making them look white as hell. If they were to intentionally to make the characters look white, they would've chosen a better colour for the clothes, less bolder ones and eye-popping ones to contrast with the already luminescent light that's emitting from the skin.

And this is not the case for only Natlan, by the way! The same thing happened when the Sumeru cast was first leaked. Case in point this:

taken from @ animuswonder on twitter [source]

and my personal art of Cyno and Nari:

Look at how much contrast there is between their colour palette or how much resonance there is, with Cyno his more cold-colour attire and hair, in comparison to his deep dark warm skin or Tighnari that's the epitome of a "spring girl" like come on man. There's INTENT in those designs, to have more darker shades than they are in the game. Sadly, they just can't do it due to censorships. Why? Because, as I have mentioned before, darker shades of skin are represented as dirt here in Asia as we glorify pale skin more.

The representation of uniqueness and differences in Chinese game is not common due the fact that most Asian countries are homogenous, which means they prefer everyone and everything to be the same, to look the same, and follow and do the same things. They do not advocate for uniqueness, they do not advocate for individuality, they advocate for us to conform and to follow like a sheep in a herd. Because of that, most people spend their whole life trying to whiten up their skin, keeping them light, and those who are darker than most are shown prejudiced and scrutinised.

Mentioning again the fact that MiHoYo and the CCP are working closely together, Genshin Impact is currently being used as a cultural weapon by the government. With MiHoYo showing numerous time that they've donate and support Chinese cultural heritage, the CCP is using that fact and holding control over Genshin as a way to promote and advertise sympathy towards Chinese culture and the Communist regime by proxy. It's like how your parents are getting you to eat broccoli brownies in hopes that you'd eat normal broccolis and other vegetables by proxy. Everything and anything that Genshin shows in its game are now under close inspections of the CCP and colourism especially will not fly-by their radar.

In conclusion

Your anger and hatred towards the new characters’ designs are justified, however the person you aim those anger and hatred should not be towards Mihoyo, or Liu Wei, or any of the staff members but towards the situation and the laws and the local government MiHoYo has to adhere to.

We're already lucky to have MiHoYo even wanting to represent and shpw different cultures from different parts of the world, telling us engaging stories, and incentivising us to think more and to be be more of us instead of following the crowd and to judge those in power (if you are literate and have the ability of a 6th grader, you know the theme Genshin Impact is showing in its story). In a world where they aren't able to live as freely as people outside of mainland do, they shouldn't have to put their life at risk by creating a game that goes against the CCP's laws that will lead to a deduction to their social points (yes, those actually exist, WAKE UP). Yet they do, they update every month, telling stories, creating characters with many characteristics that goes against Chinese gaming laws, just for us to enjoy.

Do NOT accuse people of being racist just because your skin colour cannot be found in a game. Learn to know that people don't live in the same situation as you.

You are right to be mad, you are right to be upset, but do not condemn them for something they hold no power to. It's between their lives and your fantasies and if you choose to value your delusion over their livelihood then that just shows what kind of a person you are.

Where's this conviction towards other game companies aside from MiHoYo? Where's the rightful air when it comes to companies that breathe much fresher air? Do they not have the same responsibility? Or is it because you actually do not care and merely want to point your unbridled emotions towards something or someone? If so, you're pointing at the wrong person.

[reyaint]

criminal minds case concept/idea for drs

bc @cyb3rl0v asked. @iamsoldierpoetandking

the post

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

date: June 17 2025.

started: 12:28am. ended: 2:22

i'm not gonna make it very aesthetic bc yeah. anyway. i'm doing this on my phone so it's probably gonna be ugly

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WARNINGS. psychological torture, death game, mentions of death, suicide and kidnapping. 🤷 this is criminal minds idk what you're expecting.

this idea was created by me, as well as the characters i'll mention. so if you use it just @ me. but you're free to use it just like any of my other ideas as long as I get credit. I worked on this earlier today in the car so it may be a bit messy. also I'm very indecisive so of anything isn't all matching it's bc I changed stuff while working on it and was too lazy to fix it. so

inspirations: alice in borderline, alice in wonderland, rafscrap's chorus battles A-L1, A-L2, A-L3.

episode concept: "The Gauntlet"

the case overview

case name: The Wonderland Games

location: abandoned textile factory, outskirts of Mobile, Alabama

victims: 50 young adults (ages 19-25), organized into 25 pairs

survivors: 14 individuals (7 pairs)

duration: 72 hours

the game

50 kidnapped individuals (25 groups of 2) wake up inside an abandoned multi-story warehouse-turned-kill-labyrinth.

each group is fitted with collars — either explosive or injective (with paralytics or toxins), synced to one another. if your partner dies, you die, now or later.

objective: make it through a series of trials. Only 5–7 groups can survive. no one knows how many groups there are, or what the exact end is.

the teams

each team is based on a Wonderland character motif — it reflects their dynamic or design (either ironically or truthfully).

the factory was converted into a multi-level maze with themed rooms representing different Alice in Wonderland scenes. each pair was assigned a Wonderland character identity and given weapons that ironically contrasted their backgrounds or beliefs.

some teams if one is injured they mercy kill or have a mutual sucide because they're gonna die anyway (I got nothing.)

structure

the factory was divided into five main levels, each representing a scene from Alice in Wonderland. the UnSubs monitored everything through hidden cameras, live-streaming to paying customers on the dark web while collecting psychological data on extreme stress responses.

each pair was given a Wonderland identity and color-coded bracelets that couldn't be removed:

- Alice (White) - amadrya & vincent: the main victims being followed throughout the episode(s)

the BAU gets involved

a livestream link is sent anonymously to local police and federal authorities. It’s disturbing — live footage of two terrified young adults in a bloody warehouse.

so far, four similar videos have been leaked in the last 72 hours. At least three confirmed dead.

BAU is called in when the fourth stream features a local college student whose parents had reported her missing two days ago.

Initial theory: black market red-room content, or a psychopathic cult-like game.

the UnSub profiles (BAU)

victims share age range: 19–25. varied backgrounds, but many are college-aged, socially active online, and had some level of recent mental or emotional stress.

garcia finds they were all lured or manipulated to disappear willingly — a "party," “escape room challenge,” “audition,” etc.

the team starts suspecting an inner circle of recruiters — not all players are random targets; someone they trust got them into this.

some rooms involve psychological riddles, others involve moral choices (“You can save your partner if you agree to lose a finger” — that kind of thing).

the UnSubs

primary UnSub - "The Mad Hatter"

dr. markus roberts, 45, former child psychologist who lost his license after unethical experiments on minors. Brilliant but deeply disturbed, he orchestrated the psychological framework of the games. his obsession with Alice in Wonderland stemmed from his belief that only through extreme trauma could people achieve "true clarity" - his twisted interpretation of Alice's journey through Wonderland.

secondary UnSub - "The Queen of Hearts"

rebecca shields, 38, former military logistics coordinator with expertise in surveillance and tactical operations. she handled the technical aspects: cameras, building security, victim transport. her military background made her ruthlessly efficient at the operational side.

tertiary UnSub - "The White Rabbit"

yes I looked up a different way to say third and that came up.

david chen, 32, a tech entrepreneur whose social media company went bankrupt. he managed the live streams, sold access to wealthy buyers on the dark web, and recruited the "betrayers" through financial manipulation and blackmail.

live stream & audience

- average of 2,000-5,000 concurrent viewers paying $500+ per hour of access

- betting pools on individual survivors and pairs

- private chat rooms where viewers request specific challenges

- total revenue exceeded $2 million over 72 hours

- viewers could "sponsor" weapons or challenges for additional fees

audience psychology

the BAU's analysis revealed viewers fell into three categories:

1. thrill seekers: wealthy individuals seeking extreme entertainment

2. sadists: people who enjoyed watching others suffer

3. gamblers: high-stakes betting on outcomes

technical infrastructure

- professional-grade streaming equipment with multiple camera angles

- encrypted servers in multiple countries

- cryptocurrency payment systems to avoid detection

- backup systems to prevent interruption

the games

FLOOR 1: "DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE"

(25 pairs → 22 pairs survive)

duration: 6 hours

each pair wakes up in identical 8x8 concrete rooms with their assigned weapons and character names. the rooms are soundproof but equipped with cameras and speakers. a riddle appears on the TV screen that can only be answered through inflicting harm.

sample riddles:

- "to find the key that sets you free, one must bleed for all to see. The deeper the cut, the clearer the way, but hesitate too long and here you'll stay."

- "trust is earned through sacrifice shared. Show your bond through flesh that's bared. only when both have paid the price, will you roll the loaded dice."

weapons by character assignment:

- Alice & Knight (Amadrya & Vincent): sharpened cross & dull knife

- Mad Hatter & March Hare: broken teacup shards & wooden mallet

- Cheshire Cat & White Rabbit: razor wire & pocket watch with sharp edges

- Queen of Hearts & King of Hearts: playing cards with sharpened edges & decorative scepter

- Tweedledee & Tweedledum: identical curved daggers

- Caterpillar & Dormouse: hookah pipe (metal) & letter opener

- Red Queen & White Queen: chess pieces (sharpened) & mirror shards

FLOOR 2: "THE POOL OF TEARS"

(22 pairs → 18 pairs survive)

duration: 8 hours

the surviving pairs are released onto a flooded floor where the water level varies from ankle-deep to chest-deep. they're handcuffed together and must navigate through a maze of rooms, some containing other pairs. each room has only one exit key, but multiple pairs may enter.

Room Types:

- drowning chambers: water level rises every 10 minutes. pairs must find the key before the room fills completely.

- current rooms: strong artificial currents try to separate the handcuffed pairs. if the chain breaks, both die.

- choice chambers: two pairs enter, but only one key. they must decide who lives.

- trust falls: one partner must go underwater to retrieve a key while the other holds them up. if trust fails, both drown.

psychological elements:

- speakers play distorted children's lullabies underwater

- floating objects include photos of the victims' families

- some rooms have false floors that give way unexpectedly

- mock rescue scenarios where voices call for help from sealed rooms

FLOOR 3: "THE MAD TEA PARTY"

(18 pairs → 12 pairs survive)

duration: 4 hours

all remaining pairs are brought into a large dining hall with an elaborate tea party setup. the room has 18 chairs around a massive table, but only enough food and water for 12 people. a giant clock on the wall counts down from 4 hours.

the rules:

- food and water are distributed around the table

- pairs must remain seated until the timer runs out

- if anyone stands or leaves their chair, poisonous gas fills the room

- the catch: there are only 12 portions, and everyone can see exactly what's available

psychological torture:

- the food is elaborate: roast beef, fresh bread, clean water, fruit - the first real sustenance in 24+ hours

- place cards with victims' real names and photos of their families

- speakers play recordings of loved ones asking them to "come home safe"

- some food is visibly poisoned (marked with skull symbols), creating doubt about all food

The Breakdown:

- hours 1-2: Tense standoff, pairs whispering, planning

- hour 3: First violence erupts when the "Mad Hatter" pair tries to take food from the "Caterpillar" pair

- hour 4: all-out brawl as starvation and desperation take over

I redid 4 because I didn't like it so if the format is different it's bc I didn't look at the other ones and just yapped. I'm tired now so I'm done.

FLOOR 4: "THE QUEEN'S CROQUET GROUND"

(12 pairs → 8 pairs survive)

duration: 16 hours

the surviving pairs enter a twisted maze designed like a croquet court, with high hedgerows creating narrow corridors and dead ends. unlike previous challenges, this is a psychological game of cat and mouse where pairs must navigate through "wickets" while avoiding or confronting each other. everyone keeps their original weapons - no upgrades, no additional tools.

Arena Layout:

- massive hedge maze with 15-foot walls

- nine "wickets" positioned throughout that must be passed through in sequence

- each wicket can only be used by one pair - once passed through, it seals behind them

- central "Queen's Court" area where multiple paths converge

- dead ends contain essential supplies (food, water, medical supplies) but create traps

The Croquet Rules:

- pairs must pass through all nine wickets in the correct sequence (marked with playing card suits)

- only one pair can use each wicket - it permanently seals after passage

- if a pair encounters another pair at a wicket, they must "duel" for the right to pass

- pairs can choose to go around blocked wickets, but this adds hours to their journey

- the first pair to complete all nine wickets and reach the exit wins food, water, and 8 hours of guaranteed rest

The Psychological Trap:

the maze is designed to force confrontations. multiple paths lead to the same wickets, and the hedge walls amplify sound - you can hear other pairs approaching but can't see them until you're face-to-face. the scarcity of resources and the one-way wicket system creates desperation.

Maze Elements:

- speakers hidden in hedges play whispered excerpts from victims' betrayers: "She was always too trusting... I had to do it... they said they'd kill my sister..."

- mirrors embedded in hedge walls at turns, forcing victims to see their deteriorating state

- some paths lead to alcoves with photos of victims' families and recordings of loved ones pleading for them to come home

- false wickets that lead nowhere, wasting precious time and energy

- the hedge maze shifts - some passages close or open randomly, separating pairs

Vincent and Amadrya's Navigation:

they use Amadrya's pattern recognition to map the maze and avoid other pairs initially. vincent's protective instincts keep them moving efficiently. they encounter Marcus and Jenna (the "Dormouse & Caterpillar" pair) at the seventh wicket after 12 hours of navigating.

The Confrontation:

Marcus and Jenna have been in the maze longer and are more desperate. they've been surviving on minimal water and no food. when they see Vincent and Amadrya approaching the seventh wicket:

"You think you're so smart, don't you?" Jenna snarls, exhausted and desperate. "Always one step ahead, always surviving. Well, this wicket is ours."

I love descriptive words (end me). I'm better at writing essays and things than dialogue.

the fight happens in the narrow corridor leading to the wicket. there's no room to maneuver, no escape route. It's brutal, desperate, and exactly what Vincent and Amadrya had been trying to avoid.

eliminations:

- two pairs die from dehydration after getting lost in false passages

- one pair eliminates another in a wicket confrontation but both partners are mortally wounded and die before reaching the exit

- Marcus and Jenna are killed by Vincent and Amadrya in the encounter described

- the remaining eight pairs (including Vincent and Amadrya) are too exhausted to continue fighting effectively

The Aftermath:

by the time the surviving pairs reach the final wickets, they're moving like zombies. the maze has broken them psychologically - they've heard each other's most intimate betrayals, seen themselves become killers, and lost all sense of time and direction. the hedge walls seem to close in, and several survivors show signs of severe claustrophobia and panic attacks.

FLOOR 5: "THE FINAL JUDGMENT"

(8 pairs → ? pairs intended to survive)

duration: Indefinite

the final room is a circular colosseum-style arena with tiered seating (empty, but cameras everywhere for the live stream audience). weapons line the walls - everything from the previous challenges plus new options like crossbows, swords, and maces.

The Final Rule:

"Only one pair may leave Wonderland. Prove you deserve to return to the real world."

What Actually Happens:

by this point, all survivors have been awake for 48+ hours with minimal food and water. they're running on pure adrenaline and survival instinct, but their bodies are shutting down. when they enter the final room, instead of fighting, they simply... stop.

the standoff:

- Amadrya can barely stand; Vincent holds her upright

- other pairs lean against walls or sit on the ground

- no one picks up weapons

- some survivors are crying, others stare blankly

- the silence stretches for over an hour

UnSub reaction:

the UnSubs expected a final battle royale for their paying audience. the passive resistance isn't part of the plan. they begin pumping in stimulants through the air system.

breaking point:

just as the UnSubs are about to flood the room with adrenaline-inducing drugs to force violence, the BAU breaches the facility.

the main victims being followed

amadrya tavens - ALICE

- age: 19

- height: 5'6

- nationality: american (greek-native american)

- occupation: dancer

- betrayal: stabbed by her friend after being led away during a party

- her weapon: a cross with a sharpened tip. amadrya is pagan, not Christian (ex- Christian due to religious trauma.)

I'm not hating on christians. I used to be one myself. People with religious trauma exist

seen as the "reluctant heroine" — calculating, quiet, and observant.

Initial reactions: silent fear masked by cold logic. tries to find puzzles or clues instead of violence.

her guilt trigger: she was betrayed by someone close. Religious trauma complicates her morality.

first kill triggers her spiraling — she dissociates, tries to make sense of it through rules, logic, pattern recognition.

in later rooms, she becomes the one who executes hard choices if Vincent hesitates.

lee vincent - THE KNIGHT

- age: 19

- height: 5'6

- nationality: american (korean-white. wasian)

- occupation: mechanic

- betrayal: held underwater by his friend but not killed. he was knocked unconscious.

- his weapon: a dull blade

Initially takes on protector role — logical, practical, emotionally detached.

but it’s Amadrya that keeps him grounded.

moment of humanity: after their second kill, he notices Amadrya’s hands shaking and physically grounds her (hand on shoulder, forehead to hers, soft-spoken).

his inner wound: He feels disposable — betrayed by a close friend. now he's clinging to survival not for himself, but because Amadrya needs someone who stays.

The "Alice" Theme:

they're navigating a twisted wonderland where logic is warped, but Amadrya's pattern recognition helps decode the madness while Vincent keeps her grounded in brutal reality.

[ambunyun]

Doctor Who x Honkai Star Rail Prompt (1)

The Doctor discovers another universe, and new people to bother.

The Thirteenth Doctor dashed back and forth before the TARDIS' control console, skidding across the floor every now and then as she maniacally pulled and flipped switches and levers.

"Okay, old girl, this is not what I meant when I said 'surprise me'!" The Doctor yelled at the console, which spewed back mechanical noises in indignation.

The Doctor groaned and rolled her eyes. A particularly strong rumble caused her to stumble backward onto the handrail. "Ugh!"

She powered her way against the increasing quakes of the temporal storm surrounding the TARDIS' path. Usually, the TARDIS' shielding was more than enough to ignore such issues, but this time the old girl was acting up - and for no apparent reason!

The Doctor grabbed tightly onto the monitor screen - the coordinates were all wrong! She hadn't even known a section like this existed within the Time Vortex! Oh god, Yaz was gonna be so mad at her.

"This looks like..." The Doctor wished she had her glasses with her right now as she stared at the display screen. "A cluster of parallel universes branching off, yet connected to the same source. Classic multi-world theory, but I've never seen Vortex Energy having this kind of pattern before. Almost like leaves on a tree," she mused and then spouted out floods of scientific jargon, before realizing she was talking to herself again.

The unmistakable cyclic wheezing sound of the TARDIS' dematerialization field could be heard, accompanied by the ringing of the Cloister Bell. Well, that was another Tuesday.

"We're gonna crash!" The Doctor yelled, to no one but her in particular.

"Ahem! Attention all passengers." Pom-Pom announced with a clear tone, reverberating throughout the familiar halls of the Astral Express.

The Trailblazer remained seated on the Express' comfy lounge, head pressed against the window reflecting the sea of stars.

They had just made a detour back to Xianzhou Luofu to participate in the Wardance. After defeating Hoolay and settling the borisin invasion, and at the Traliblazer's begging request, the crews will again return to Herta's Space Station for the testing of the Simulated Universe, as well as preparations for the upcoming school festival from Penacony.

"The Express is about to make the jump — The Express is about to make the jump — Please be seated and hold on!"

March knew better not to stand around this time.

"The train is about to make the jump!"

The Trailblazer closed their eyes.

"5! 4! 3! 2! 1!"

The Trailblazer expected the familiar vomit-inducing sense of dizziness to wash over them.

But nothing happened. Not even the blue light of the warp engine could be seen.

"H-Huh?" March 7th seemed befuddled. Even Dan Heng came out of his room to check. "What's the hold-up?" March tried to ask but quickly stopped when she realized that Welt and Himeko were nowhere to be seen.

"Conductor?" Dan Heng directed his voice to the empty air, but received no reply.

Suddenly, the entire Express shook over. Objects and people were knocked down to the ground from a particularly strong impact.

"Something just crashed into the Express!" Dan Heng yelled.

"Ughh, is this the Knight guy again?" March whined while covering her head.

"Everyone," a voice rang out from the PA system. It was Himeko. "Please stay calm, the Express has just encountered an unknown burst of Imaginary energy - which had crashed the Star Rail."

Welt chimed in. "We theorized that this is caused by a sudden imaginary leakage phenomenon. However, we do not know what caused the phenomenon in the first place."

"We do see a blue box, however." Himeko continued, although her tone had a degree of incredulity behind it. "A blue, rectangular, wooden box to be exact. And I advised all of you to be extremely careful right now, because it had just crashed into the Engine room.

[shubblelive]

— PAGES TURNED

summary : wilbur is a quiet guy, but there’s so much more to him than he shows. over swapped shifts, post it notes and paperback novels, you unravel him bit by bit.

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of alcohol/drinking

pairing : musicianbur x fem!librarian! reader

pronouns : none (i think) reader is described as a “girl” and using other feminine descriptors

featuring : cc!wilbur soot, musicianbur, college!librarian! wilbur

word count : 2.6k

note : sorry this took. one million years. i had my exams and i turned 17, and then i went out of state to visit family, but i’ve had this in my drafts and i’ve been working on and off for a while. i hope you enjoy this, i’m thinking about maybe making it multi part? if people are into that? @starsyoubreaklikesugardust <333

You sincerely regret covering for your coworker. The campus library has a consistent, albeit small, staff. You work the same days every week; Monday morning, Tuesday afternoon and Thursday morning. The head librarian, Theresa, was more than willing to give you extra shifts whenever you needed. The library was where most of the richer students’ parents donated, and you were insanely lucky to get your job there. As a result of the consistent schedule, you work with two people regularly; Henry, who shares your major, and Janine, who’s one of the sweetest people you know. The rest of your coworkers, you knew exclusively through Theresa and her insistence of having staff get togethers at any opportunity.

There’s Chastity, who lives on your floor, and her girlfriend Kate. You got a front row seat to their first kiss after three months of egging them on with Janine at Henry’s 20th birthday. There are three more workers that work during the week on alternating shifts to you; Sam, the newest member of the term; Hae-Won, the only person who had worked there longer than you and Theresa; and Wilbur.

Wilbur, who was currently your new coworker as you started working five days a week. Hae-Won’s mother was sick, and Theresa had begged you to cover for them while they flew interstate to go take care of her. You’d been working at the campus library since you were a freshman, and they’d always been good to you. You had agreed, and now you were needing to rush from class to the library after every single one of your lectures. Sam, Henry and Theresa had all assured you that if you were late because of class you wouldn’t lose your job, but you felt bad leaving them with all the work.

Wilbur has barely spoken a word to you since you’d started working the same shifts. He’s not rude or angry, just quiet as far as you can tell. You like him. You both keep to yourselves, and Wilbur doesn’t snitch on you for smuggling your sandwiches out of the office when you browse the stacks during your breaks.

He doesn’t get mad at you for being late when you are, and he always puts stuff on the top shelf whenever you ask. He’s soft, and incredibly smart. You learn about him through hushed evenings in the office, both of you dead on your feet after you’ve locked the doors, neither of you wanting to leave quite yet. The low light gives his eyes an amber glow the same colour as sun as it peeks through the slats in the blinds of the office, surrounded on all four sides by large windows. The fishbowl, the kids call it when they come in on Friday afternoons. Not quite, you think. You’re both too boring to be fish, you make a joke when you hear a young boy say it. Wilbur gets a look in his eyes that he keeps for the next hour until you confront him. “Sometimes people don’t look a fish ‘cause they’re interesting,” he all-but whispers when you ask, eyes aglow and top row of teeth pulling on his bottom lip. “Sometimes they’re just pretty.”

You get to know Wilbur over campus coffees, and handmade bookmarks inspired by the paperbacks he checks out every week. Through his handwritten post-it note on the corner of the main monitor at the front desk, a stack of books with a cat perched on top, his writing slanted but mainly kept between the spines of each book. A request for a novel you’ve never heard of, but vow to search for. Theresa is the one who handles incoming books, but that’s not going to stop you from finding it yourself.

You begin to find those sticky-notes around more and more. There’s one resting on top of your backpack for you to find as you return from the bathroom. That’s a pretty skirt, the first one says. You should wear your hair like that more often, one three days later on the stack of returns he’s asked you to reshelve. There’s one a week after that forces a smile on your face. This made me think of you. It’s resting on a tiny journalist style notebook, one where you flip on the top. It’s got a quote from your favourite novel on it, and you slip the sticky note inside it gingerly, tucking it into the front pocket of your backpack. That afternoon during your lunch break, you go to the craft store instead of staying in and get yourself some post it notes. Yours are in the shape of a lemon, and when Wilbur goes into the fishbowl to grab his stuff once your shift is over, he finds one stuck to the side of his bag. Two words, ten numbers, all in your handwriting. Call me.

So he does, he calls you that very night. Despite the late time, you guys stay on the phone for nearly three hours. The next shift you two share, you tease him. “I thought you were meant to be the quiet type,” you giggle as his ears turn pink, him intentionally facing away from you to shield the smitten grin on his face as he pretends to write something on the staff calendar. “You had a lot to say the other night.”

It continues that way for a while, nightly phone calls in which you finally get to hear him talk unabashedly about the things he’s interested in. He’s in a band, he confesses shyly one night when you’re both on the verge of sleep. You don’t reply for a second, and he thinks you might have dozed off. You pipe up after a moment, voice heavy with sleep and Wilbur thinks he can’t possibly like you more. “Your first gig’s Saturday, right?” He nods, even if you can’t see him. You keep going anyway. “I’ll be there.”

He wishes you hadn’t told him, because he spends the next three days stressing. Performing always makes him a little anxious, a healthy amount of butterflies, as his friends say. But this is too much. He changes his shirt three times on Saturday night, twice because he wants you to like it, and another time because he sweated through the third one. He blames it on the intensity of the lights, when the drummer asks him if he’s okay, but they can all see the way his eyes are locked onto your frame, tucked into a little corner of the underground bar they’re playing. They play for about forty minutes, and you’re a little embarrassed to admit that you’ve never heard a single song they did.

Wilbur goes into the little backstage area after their last song, and his bandmates will swear he’s never moved so fast in his life. He’s chugging a bottle of water while trying to wrestle his guitar off his back, his glasses fogged up from the sweat covering his face. there are a few bothersome strands sticking to his cheeks, but he doesn’t care about that. He just wants to see you.

He gets to your corner and the table is empty. No, the table has things on it. Your chair is empty. There is something on the table. He reaches it and flops down into the chair you were just sitting in. A waitress brings him a glass of lemonade that you ordered for him and he gulps it down gratefully. He allows himself a few moments to bask in the post-show high. You might not be there, but that only brought his mood down slightly. He did it.

He is a little hurt that you didn’t stick around, but it’s nearing 10 and he knows you have a test on Monday. He takes another long swig of his drink, and reaches blindly for the one other object on the table; a paperback novel. It’s his favourite. He didn’t even remember telling you it was his favourite, but somehow you knew. His heart hammers inside his chest and he has to remember how to breathe for a second. He’d looked everywhere for that, even going as far as to see if he could order it online.

He flips open the cover, just to check, and he finds a scrawled message beneath the title page. Heard you were hoping to get your hands on one. I hope you enjoy. You’ll have to tell me all about it.

And he does. It takes him less than a week to read the entire book, and he comes to you on a random Thursday, eyes sparkling with a glint you’ve only ever seen that one night he was performing, and he leans over the front desk where you’re standing and before you can even process it he’s taking your head in his hands and pulling you into a firm hug. You’re not as tall, so you’re on your toes as you lean over the desk, struggling to wrap your arms around his torso as he hugs you.

And then he’s talking, loud and clear, and if the library was open people would be giving him dirty looks for how unashamedly he’s speaking to you. You revel in it. He keeps his hands enclosing yours and you lean over the desk to get as close to him as you can, wanting to absorb every single word out of his mouth. Wanting to breathe it in and keep it between your ribs.

Eventually he lets you go to go do some work, but you decide at that moment that you never want him to shut up again.

So, he doesn’t. With constant encouragement from you, Wilbur becomes more outspoken. Of course, there were the phone calls, but he was still reserved in person. He seems to take up more space over the next few weeks, unfurling slowly like an old painting, perfectly preserved with so much beauty to show once he was out in the open. It starts as small things, the way he calls out to you across the library after closing instead of approaching you to tell you softly. You’re almost in mourning, feeling like you’d lost that closeness with Wilbur that only you seem to have. The notion that once you put something out into the world it no longer belongs to you. Not that he ever did, not like that at least.

You’d feel like that and then Wilbur would do something so small, so sacred, that your heart would ache. Whispering jokes in your ear, fingers brushing yours when he passes you a book he thinks you’ll enjoy, grabbing onto both of your hands when he got so excited about something that he needed a physical tether to you to stop himself from floating away, into the air that he was now filling so wonderfully.

The others started noticing it too; Theresa mentioning to you how much more confident he seemed after he’d left the room, Sam, who brightened now that Wilbur seemed to return his enthusiasm, even the bassist of Wilbur’s band, who you ran into at a coffee shop, said he was different.

His band got another gig at a bigger bar, and of course you were invited again. This time you planned on sticking around for the whole thing, letting him wrap you in a sweaty hug once he ran off stage. “You were so good,” you gush, your breath on his ear sending shivers down his spine. His hands ghost up and down your arm, and you can’t bring yourself to let go of him. “But, Wil. Seriously, enough is enough.”

He pulls away just enough to get a clear picture of your face, shadows covering one side, the dim lighting in the venue not doing enough to take away from just how pretty you look.

“You guys need to start playing songs I know the words to.”

Your fake annoyance makes him laugh, one of the most genuine laughs you’ve ever heard from him. Warm, and thick, like caramel. Like his eyes when the two of you are huddled together in the fishbowl and he’s laughing, like there will never be enough time to spend with you. Because there isn’t.

His hands stop in their motions, and he notices your bare arms. “You’re freezing, lovely. Here.” He steps away from you and shrugs off his button up, leaving him in just a white-sleeved tee as he guides your arms in. The sleeves cover your hands and he goes as far as to roll them up delicately. His face is an inch from yours as he unwraps his hands from your wrist, and your fingers toy gently with a stray curl that bounces when you release it from your grip.

This time it’s you who takes Wilbur’s jaw in your hands, fingers running over his stubble. He’s drunk, hasn’t had a drop of alcohol the entire time, but well and truly intoxicated as he pulls you into him again, nose pressed to your hairline. “I’m so proud of you.” You mumble into his shoulder, and for a second, time is frozen.

You’re both brought out of it by rousing cheers from Wilbur’s bandmates, the guitarist and drummer both bullying Wilbur for not introducing you to them earlier. The bassist greets you warmly, and the three of them try to convince you both to go out for a drink. Wilbur’s the one who ends up ushering you out, arm around your shoulders as he placates his bandmates. Throwing a “We’ve got an early morning tomorrow at work,” over his shoulder as he steered you towards his car.

He’s only half lying. You do both have work the next day, however the library’s closed and Theresa’s hosting a party to thank everyone for their hard work. It starts at two, so you’re revelling in the fact that you get to sleep in. That doesn’t stop you from inviting Wilbur up to your apartment, though. Nor does it stop the two of you deciding to watch a movie together on the couch in your living room. It doesn’t even stop Wilbur from whispering to you while the credits roll. “You look so lovely tonight.” You flush, tearing your eyes from his face, looking down at where his hands are on your waist instead. “Can I kiss you?”

It definitely doesn’t stop you from nodding your head emphatically, your hands delving into his hair as he presses his lips to yours for the first time.

He tastes like spearmint gum and the mango of your lip gloss, his hands steadying you both and gripping onto the couch cushion. He pulls away just enough to murmur, “You’re wonderful,” and suddenly you’re so happy you’re laughing. He laughs too, taking your head in his hands until you’re kissing him again, and when he leaves nearly two hours later he’s gripping your hands so tight your breath hitches, promising he’ll see you at the party later.

And hours later, when you’re sipping on lemonade and leaning against one of the windows of the fishbowl, he sidles up to you and leans his head on top of yours. “My pretty girl.” Your hand wraps around his, and the two of you stand there for a few minutes in a comfortable silence, watching your coworkers mingle. He’d never been so outward in his affections, not when surrounded by people you both worked with. He was a reserved man, preferring to let loose around his family, his bandmasters, and you. But of course, that doesn’t stop him from pressing a kiss to your hairline, the two of you inside the library office, gazing outside into the rest of the library. “So so pretty.”

[mythical-illustrator]

A little bit ago- for a Valentine gift on discord I made this lovely Boba Fett drawing for

@wings-and-beskar and totally forgot to share it here 😂

So it's a little NSFW but still lovingly censored (no bits are exposed but I'm putting it under the line Incase Boba angers the monitors

So .... enjoy 😊

Master list

Tag list

@clonemedickix @anxiouspineapple99 @dangraccoon @sev-on-kamino @wizardofrozz @dystopicjumpsuit @secondaryrealm @dickarchivist @multi-fan-dom-madness @starrylothcat @523rdrebel

[penny-anna]

hey guys!! its saturday and i'm off work all next week! have some new bttf fic recs:

So, Your Brother's Befriended a Mad Scientist by Knickynoo

Working as assistant for the town's most mysterious inventor isn't exactly a job Dave would've expected Marty to get, but it sure is an interesting one.

brand new fic set for 2 more chapters!! im really enjoying this so far, love stuff w marty's siblings and this looks like a good un

The Waiting Hours by Enterthetadpole, WritingOutLoud

When Marty gets back from his various adventures with Doc, he is alone. At first, he’s sure the Doc will come back, but as time passes, he isn’t so sure.

some bangin' post canon stuff. will tug at your heart strings.

Accidental Timing by HaMandCheezIts

Marty's injured in an accident, and for once it's not Doc's fault. But he is the first person Marty thinks to ask for help.   The woman at the ER desk had finished with her phone call, and she was now regarding Doc. “Can I help you, sir?” “Yes, yes.” Emmett leaned in closer, his nervousness renewed now that he was so close to finding out what exactly was wrong with his young friend. “I’m Emmett Brown. An Officer Ryan contacted me, and said that my fr – my nephew is here. Marty McFly. He’d been in an automobile accident?” The woman consulted a clipboard on her desk, then typed a few characters on a keyboard and studied her computer monitor. “Martin McFly?” she said, after a moment that to Doc felt like an hour. “Fifteen years old?” “Yes,” Emmett repeated. “Can you tell me where he is, please?”

surprised to realise i haven't rec'd this one already!! love love the h/c here love the whole atmosphere of the story. i go crazy for this kind of pre canon stuff im eating it up delicious food <3

r/ThePinheads: Guys, Marty McFLy really *is* a time traveller!!! by Notime33 (Professor_Saber)

Did you know that it's a meme that the lead guitarist and vocalist for the rock band The Pinheads, Marty McFly, is a time traveler? Well, some guy on the Pinheads subreddit thinks he's found definitive proof…

DELIGHTFUL bit of multi media work here. absolutely adore it. go check it out right now.

[hayffiebird]

Taste of Strawberries, chap. 44

Hayffie Post-Mockingjay (Canon divergence) Multi-chapter, Rated M SUMMARY: Four years have passed since the end of the war when Effie becomes a fixture in Haymitch’s life once again. An old friendship is rekindled. Will it lead to something more? Meanwhile, Panem has entered a new era. The rebellion’s over, the borders are open but in the shadows, anger and mistrust are smoldering. Something which will affect Haymitch and Effie’s life in a way they never saw coming. READ MORE

Chapter 44

Haymitch’s lullaby

Night again. Midnight.

Cleo, June and Annabel’s bearded dragon moved quietly in her tank. Her claws rattled against rock and root in her shadowy world, illuminated only by the pale shafts of moonlight.

Haymitch peered inside the living room, half-hidden by the doorway. Effie had yet to come back to her room. Not that it was any of his business. If she was restless tonight she had good reason.

But an hour passed, an hour-fifteen, and finally he followed her.

Not to try and make her reconsider. About Twelve and all. Her mind was made up. He’d certainly done everything in his power to cement her belief that the children were better off as far away from him as possible. Even if she was too polite to say so.

All he wanted was to check on her. Make sure she was OK.

As OK as could be expected.

And there she was. Curled up in the old armchair. Eyes closed, knees under her chin. Breathing softly.

Their trusty side-kick – the baby monitor - stood on the table, next to a half-finished glass of milk. Goat milk probably. She bought a bottle just the other day. Some local farmer, downtown.

Maybe she misses Twelve, he thought. Katniss and Peeta and … all the rest.

That or she just needed something sweet to help her sleep.

If so, it did the trick.

He watched her pale face, framed by soft strands of strawberry blonde hair. That special hue from the Trinket family tree that she passed on to her children. Their children.

In just a couple of hours, they’d all be gone. Effs, the kids. She already bought the tickets. One for the Capitol. One for Twelve.

He couldn’t even follow them part-way. Not when they were going in two completely different directions.

He’d hinted, several times, at the solution of him setting up camp in her house while she and the twins moved to the Victor’s Village. But every time he tried to open that door, Effie closed it again.

Didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

He would have joined them for the whole trip. Gladly. All the way to the Capitol and home again. It still wouldn’t feel like enough time.

But who wanted to lock themselves on a train for 24 hours with a dumbhead in withdrawal? Not Effie. Especially not when she already had two young children to take care of. The liquor was gone. No hair of the dog available. He’d be a wreck, not two districts later. He couldn’t do that to her. Wouldn’t expose her or the children to any of that bullshit.

Yeah, the booze really was gone. The hip flask. The bottles. He poured all of it down the drain. Something he’d done maybe never in his lifetime

While he waited for news on Effie.

A feverish act. A mad frenzy. Nothing but a desperate man’s desperate pact with … whoever might be listening. Bent over the sink – blood pounding in his ears, his pipes clenched to what felt like half – he just snapped one seal after another.

As if his tossing the lot would somehow make Effie return home unscathed.

Unscathed? Fuck. Effs hadn’t been without scars in decades and definitely not these past couple of years. Or days, for that matter.

With bated breath Haymitch stepped over the threshold. Occasional splatter of rain drip-dropped down the misty windows as he threaded soundlessly across the carpet.

He wasn’t always a bull in a china shop. Katniss would be amazed (or maybe not) if she knew how quiet he could be still. When he had a mind to. And was sober.

He plucked the baby monitor from the table. Turned it off and slipped it in his pocket. His empty pocket.

Effie only mumbled something in her sleep when he spread the blanket over her. Tucked her in. He touched her cheek with a feather-light hand.

“Sleep well, princess. See ya in the mornin’.”

The brisk breeze elbowed the house in the side. Over and over. Made it creak and groan on Haymitch’s way upstairs.

Just like my place, he thought. It too was a talker. Course, had this been his house and his hour he wouldn’t have noticed. He’d already be three sheets to the wind by now.

Or four or five.

He stopped by Effie’s bedroom. Polished the wood with his ear, listening for anything out of the ordinary. Hand against the handle, he hesitated. Then pushed inside. One inch at a time.

Just to check on them.

The kids usually slept through the night now. Thanks to the tireless hard work of one ms. Effie Trinket. And like a drop’s effort on his part.

So no wonder his heart jumped – like a cat off an electric fence – when Amy turned her head the moment he walked in.

Wide awake. Sitting upright in her side of the travel crib. Not an ounce of fatigue in her Seam gray eyes.

Mostly, when the girl woke up at odd hours – sleepy and overtired – she had no problem making herself heard.

But for whatever reason she only blinked her long lashes. A look in her eyes like “Do you have an appointment?”

Haymitch crouched before the crib.

“What’re you doin’ up, sweetheart?” He whispered the words because Ian was still sound asleep. Eyelashes dark against his chubby cheeks. The beloved binky propped in his mouth.

Haymitch caressed his daughter’s silky hair.

“This is bedtime”, he said. “Not playtime.”

Maybe it was the word. “Play”. That or simply the cadence of his soft dad voice. But Amy instantly put both hands up in front of her, palms facing him. Expectantly.

When he didn’t immediately respond with the double high five (or something equally enthralling) she let out a bright bird squeak, like he was a little slow and she had to spell it out.

Haymitch’s lips curved upwards. But it was a smile that couldn’t quite quench the sadness in his tired red eyes. He flopped down on the floor, cross-legged. Held her perfect little hands between his shaky, timeworn thumbs and forefingers.

“Tomorrow”, he said. “Now’s night-night. OK?”

Amy shook her head violently from side to side. A bull’s eye coincidence but enough for him to flash a hint of teeth.

“No. You gon’ need your energy in the morning. Come on. Lay down your head. And close your eyes. Just like it says in aunt Katniss’s song.”

Ever so gently he helped her down on her back, but Amy’s body had no sooner touched the mattress before she struggled back up again. Shot him a look that was so Effie-like he half-expected “Manners!” to be snapped his way.

He tried it a second time. Put her down. Scanned the room for the pacifier.

Big mistake.

Amy’s bottom lip jutted out. Eyebrows creased, her face turned a darker shade of pink as it crinkled up dangerously.

“No, no, no ...”, said Haymitch hastily. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry, girlie.”

Too late.

Fucking hell, he thought as he reached inside the crib. Lifted out his wailing child. When would he learn? Almost a year in and he still made these clueless first dad mistakes.

“There, there, I got ya”, he mumbled into her hot temple. “No need to work on my deafness. I got ya.” Her arms clutched his neck and he rocked her, speaking the same soft words as many a night before.

And, of course, her cries had not yet subsided before her brother stirred. The boy rubbed a fist into his eye, the pacifier slipped out onto the mattress and from him came a few pitiful whimpers.

Before long Haymitch had both arms full of his two cranky children.

Got no one to blame but himself. Why didn’t he just sit with her? Read a bedtime story or hummed some of the songs they liked. Girl would’ve passed out eventually, without him pushing and prodding her.

He gave them both a kiss.

“Whatcha say we go back to my room, hm? Don’t think you’ve ever been there, like once, this whole trip.”

Said and done.

“His” quarters weren’t nearly as neat as Effie’s, obviously. But he put in the effort to make the bed at least. The fact he’d hardly slept in it this whole time helped of course.

Guided by moonlight, he unloaded his precious cargo onto the embroidered bedspread.

And there they felt right at home. Because if there was one thing his little cubs had always enjoyed, it was beds. The bigger, the better. Here, in the Capitol, in Twelve. Everyone’s but their own really.

Their whining instantly stopped, like turning off a tap. Ian flopped forward against the pillow with an excited huff.

“Don’t fall off”, Haymitch warned, head inside one of the wardrobes. “Can’t return you to mama with any bumps. She’ll wring my neck.”

“Aa-mm-uh!” squeaked Amy eagerly, clutching her toes with both hands. “Mmm-amm-amm-amm!”

“Mama’s sleeping”, Haymitch said. Hangers creaked when he nudged the jackets and sweaters and raincoats aside, looking for his secret further in. “Long day. We just gotta look after ourselves for now, yeah?”

Getting a good grip he carried the box out. Just a regular-sized cardboard parcel. Big enough to carry … what? A dozen bottles of beer?

He lifted it onto the bed, before Amy and Ian’s mildly curious gazes.

“I know it should be tied up with strings and all that fancy-schmancy.” He climbed in with them. “But I can’t wrap for sh… A drunk orangutan would do a better job.”

Not like Eff, he thought. Seriously, what’d she do? Apply for a gift wrapping certificate alongside her escort courses?

The old man could’ve probably fixed it. When Haymitch called in the order. But it just didn’t occur to him at the time. To ask the favor.

Ian tugged at him. The usual cue when he wanted to be picked up. Haymitch settled him on his left knee. Amy, on the right.

“Think of this like it’s mama’s cooking”, he said and inched the box closer. “Just cause it doesn’t look right doesn’t mean you won’t like what’s inside.”

The seal was already broken. Earlier. Not with his knife. Effie would have had a fucking asthma-attack had he brought it here. Just a regular pair of scissors with ring handles made out of hickory wood.

He flipped open the flaps. The outer the inner. Reached through the bubble wrap.

It was heavier than he remembered. He needed both hands to get it out of the box. The twins watched with peaked interest as he placed the object, the present, before them.

“You were supposed to have it when you were born”, Haymitch said quietly. “And then again the other day. I messed up but … better late than never.”

Ian reached a hand out. Gingerly grazed his five tiny fingernails against the left one of the three.

Three goslings sitting on a patch of grass.

Amy followed her brother’s example. Touched the bird on the right. The soft down. The pearly eyes. The little beak. Babbled something, questioningly.

“Nah, it ain’t real goslings”, Haymitch said. “Don’t worry, I already made sure. It’s called a music box. I want you to have it. Take it with you when you …”

His voice faltered.

“Crazy day that was.” He kissed the top of her head. Kissed Ian’s too. “First time I ever met ya. Feels like a hundred years now. You were so squished. Both o’ ya. Got these … purplish lil’ monkey faces. Hollering at me like I’d broken your grandmother’s china.”

He smiled at the memory.

“And I knew I’d never seen anything more beautiful in all my life. And yeah, that’s including your poor mother. I was a goner. From the start. Never been more proud, more terrified, of anything. Ever. Lucky too. Cause out of all the people in this world, I get to be your dad.”

Eyes shiny, he swallowed hard against the painful lump in his throat. Caressed Amy’s cheek with the back of his fingers. Dropped a kiss to the dimples of Ian’s knuckles.

“But I can’t be a good dad to you now. Not the kind you need and deserve. Tomorrow when it’s time for bed I won’t be there. I don’t know when we’ll see each other again. Properly. But if you ever feel sad and anxious and can’t sleep cause I ain’t there, mama can play you this song and wherever I am or whatever I’m doing I’ll be listening with you. No matter what happens, we’ll always be a family. In here.”

He touched the spot right over their hearts.

“And whenever you look out on the night sky, remember that even though we’re far away from each other I’m looking at the same moon you are. The same stars. OK?”

He tilted the goslings over, carefully, having a look at the underside.

“So, watcha say?” he asked, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. “Wanna try and play some music? See what kinda song it’s got?”

There was something engraved in the metal. Haymitch squinted at it, ran a thumb over the old letters.

“’Someday’”, he read. “Never heard of it. Have you?” He looked at the twins. “Maybe mama knows … and there’s the key …”

He grabbed a good hold. Gave it half a dozen twists. Just like Paulus Bell had taught him.

The music box came to life immediately.

But what Haymitch first noticed wasn’t the tinkles, the chimes, the melody itself.

No. It was the goslings themselves.

They were glowing.

All three of them. Carried within some kind of light, burning right where their hearts would be. Warm and comforting.

A night lamp. Not painful to the eye but warm. Ember-soft. Like a campfire. But not the fire you lit with cold-stiff fingers in the arena. Fires that got you killed.

No. The kind you lit on your own hearth when it was time to eat, time to sleep. The shadows cast: not frightening. Not dangerous. Just … playful. Calming.

This, he’d already sensed of course. Back at the Forum, when Paulus Bell first demonstrated the music box to him. It had a light of some kind, sure.

But in the vivid and bright cascades of artificial bullshit that the Capitol spewed all over you – spotlights, billboards, fairy bulbs – this tiny little source was all but drowned out. Leaving only glimpses.

But here, in the quiet and the dark, it was different. Now they burned strong and steadily. Unswerving. Always had … course … It’s capacity to shine never changed. Never went anywhere. Even if he was too distracted to realize it.

And then the music. He strained his ears; once again, tried to place it. Where it came from. He’d always had a remarkable memory. That was his curse. One of them, anyway. And as for songs and melodies, he was a living breathing archive.

Sae said he reminded her of Katniss’s grandmother in that regard. She never forgot anything with a tune either. One hearing was all she needed.

The song was simple enough. He could easily find it on the piano – if he’d had a piano at his disposal. A lullaby, obviously. Soft and gentle, like the light it emitted. Kind, if that made sense? Tenderly merry. Like a kiss on the cheek. One of Effie’s kisses.

Someday. Someday, what?

The twins had fallen completely silent. Marble-eyed. Sitting very still, as always when they were really into something. Mesmerized, either by the light or the music or both.

His good, sweet children. How odd to think they weren’t always in his life.

So many more things he wanted to say to them. While there was still time. Not that they understood what he was telling them or even if they did, they wouldn’t hear a word he said, being so awestruck by their new present.

He ought to just let them enjoy the show. Have it lull them to slumber before he carried them back to Effie’s room.

But one thing he had to say. Couldn’t let them leave without it.

”I love you, little uns.” He kissed their soft, goose-downy hair. “I know I don’t say it a lot. Not like mama does. I never got to keep anything to call mine and I know it’s silly but … it’s like if I say it too often someone will pick up on it. Like a frequency on the radio. They’ll know and then … But I do. So much. You’re the best thing I ever did with my life.”

Heart aching, he rested his chin against the top of Ian’s head. Cupped his hand around Amy’s little foot.

“I’m really really gonna miss you.”

Author’s note: Now they’ve all gotten geese for a gift, did you notice? Haymitch has the origami goose that Effie made him, Haymitch gave her a porcelain goose on the December Fair before knocking her up and the twins now has their music box goslings.

“Someday” is a real song. There’s even an actual music box version of it on Spotify and YouTube played by Nibble Pig. And if you’ll wonder, just like I did: “Where the hell have I heard this melody before?” it’s because it’s a roll credits song from “The Hunchback of Notre Dame.” Go check it out! The Alan Menken version. It’s got the loveliest lyrics ever! Very “Deep in the Meadow” and “What I need is the dandelion in the spring” themed. ;)

Also, the sentence “You’re the best thing I ever did with my life”. I can't take credit for that cause it’s a variation of a line (said by another addict) in “Riding in cars with boys”. A movie (and book) I was obsessed with when I was 15. If you ever get the chance, watch it on dvd. That way you can also enjoy Drew Barrymore’s beautiful voice-over commentary!

[ru5t]

(Tech's Annotated) Map of The Zones

There is an official/presumably canon map that was created and circulated around the time of the music videos (viewable here). However, after playing around in this sandbox it quickly feels deeply and entirely too small (the city only around 3 miles across, and then around 15 miles from the city to the edge of the zones — it's simply not enough space) for all of the madness going on inside of it. So here's the headcanon/blog canon version of things!

The zones of the west coast center over Battery City, and are roughly 300 miles in diameter, making for over 30,000 square miles of potentially habitable ground.

Note: "Old world" locations visible purely for irl reference, the city names wouldn't still be in wide use or marked on an official map. The annotations are approximations in some cases, based on info I got from people who made up the locations — if it belongs to you and you're thinking 'hey that's not where that is' please let me know! I will scooch. I absolutely recommend opening this in another tab for better viewing, as it is massive and maybe slightly unreadable at tumblr dimensions. (Oops.)

The roads -some old, some new- are generally passable, but many are very rough. Detours are common as the desert, and killjoys, shift obstacles around. Moving straight east from the city, it would take a person about 5 days to get to the edge of zone 06 on foot, 1-2 days on a bike, 6-8 hours by motorized vehicle, and less than 2 hours by helicopter. Since Better Living patrols are almost never moving in a direct line unless they're hunting specific quarry, they tend to pack heavy, and take multi-day or multi-week patrols that sweep the zones, looking for 'rescues' to make and hostile settlements to squash. There are also a number of Better Living outposts in the inner zones: permanent encampments where employees are left to watch over particularly desirable or troublesome locations, such as the robotic dumping grounds in southern zone 02, and the borders of the annex.

A lot of the livable area is characterized as desert or steppe, partly due to the regions natural inclinations, partly due to the environmental devastation wrought by the wars. To the west and south, the old coastline now marks the start of the salt flats: empty stretches of ground that end at the current coastline some miles out from where it once was, turning the former channel islands into a spattering of rocky, mountain-esqe outcrops surrounded by hard, packed earth too salty to bear much life. Many settlements and travelers prefer the north and east, where the terrain protected some of the valleys and so echoes of the forests and other natural resources remain — as well as echoes of the wildlife. To the south(east), conditions start dry and get drier, providing massive challenge to anyone who doesn't know the way to carve out safety and make use of the weather.

BATTERY CITY

Ten miles in diameter, closed off by a barrier wall with fixed entry points, all of which are heavily monitored.

Battery City is a self-contained and somewhat* self-sufficient city. In the early days -before they built the walls- the plan was always to expand, crawl outward and establish a new world from the rubble of the old. However, conflict with early rebels led to the division of city from 'zones', and the heads of the corporation at the time chose a ten mile diameter to lock behind their main wall. Largely prevented from expanding and lacking the room for urban sprawl, the city has gone vertical to keep up with the demands of its population. Buildings and entire block levels extend both up and down, in sky scrapers as well as some subterranean levels (the latter of which are mostly used for synthetic farming and detainment.) Rather than divide by production, the city is designed so that, in the event of failure or invasion, no one zone of it can be commandeered to cut off the rest. Factories and power plants are interspersed with dwellings and other means of production, and the divides dictate the city's class system more than occupation. The outer wall is dozens of feet thick; the only roads in and out are tunnels guarded around the clock by S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W task force. For more detailed city notes [I will make another post which I will come back and link here.]

It can be easy for things to seem small, with the city so dwarfed by the zones as it is on this map, but the city inside the wall alone covers roughly 320 square miles of land [compared to L.A. (503), New York (469) or Chicago (234)] and hundreds of thousands (if not millions) of people live in Battery City. Many of them are descendant of people who never left, and the walls went up around them; many others migrated there, in out of the wild and destruction. Of the three remaining (official) settlements in the US, Battery City has the largest civilian population.

*Battery City does do its own farming, but is supplemented by resources from Fort FISK and the Fishery, another Better Living establishment in the southern US. In a crisis situation where FISK was unable to send supplies, the city could sustain without lifestyle changes for approximately five years.

ZONE 01

Ten mile wide band around the city, marked and separated from the other zones by a series of border walls and fences. Regularly patrolled.

There are many buildings, most of them crumbling, that were once urban sprawl and the suburbs. Thanks to the city's tampering with the weather, zone 01 shares most of the benefits, and can rely on slightly lower temperatures, regular safe rainfall, and even a four-season year (while the outer zones tend to have more like two seasons, dry and wet.)

Despite the city's attempts to section it off from the other zones, 01's borders aren't secure, and a small number of killjoys regularly move through the wreckage of the area. These are the most hostile and often least recognized killjoys — extremists even by the standards of arguably violent killjoy culture. They launch attacks on the city, the walls and patrols and citizens alike, and keep the rubble of the suburbs too unstable for the city to continue to expand. Many die young and unrecognized.

Zone 01 also contains the city's two expansions, as acquired in 2020: the Neon District and the Annex. The Annex is largely agricultural in nature, a proto-version of the much smaller greenhouses the city tried to establish in later years. The Neon District is an expansion of the outer city, mostly containing civilian dwelling. Where once the slums and Neon were the same, now the slums are at least inside the main wall, and Neon has become adjacent to the city. Neon houses almost exclusively registered neutrals, many of whom commute into the city to do undesirable jobs for low pay. On BL/ind paperwork, the Neon District is both a neighborhood in the zones and the expanded dwelling, but among citizens, the Neon District "Slums" of the city and the district's expansion, "Neon", are different places entirely. [Also more details for this in the city post.]

ZONE 02

Fifteen mile wide band around zone 01, marked off in some places by (often unmaintained) border fences. Regularly patrolled.

As in zone 01, what remains of the old world's sprawling boroughs make up most of the landmarks, though here in zone 02 they're less stable. More spread out, and prone to one day shaking apart for no entirely clear reason. The landscape begins to shift in the north and northeast, turning hilly. The city's weather control effects taper off within this zone, so that the inside mirrors a lot of zone 01's weather, while the outer sections reflect more of the desert. Overall, the two often clash, and weather in zone 02 changes at the drop of a hat. It's rarely dangerous in and of itself (typically no acid rain or poisonous fogs) but the speed and frequency of the changes make attempts to travel through and settle in zone 02.... interesting.

Scattered around zone 02, amidst the crumbling infrastructure, there are both Better Living outposts, where patrols sent out from the city stop or bed down, as well as some more permanent installments. The unlucky are sometimes shipped out for a few weeks at a time to man these watch points, such as the Better Living building that overlooks the robotics dumping ground south of the city, just beyond the old coastline. Just as equally, there are killjoy encampments dotted across the zone, populated like a forward front, often taking in anyone who manages to escape the city, and serving as an early warning system to the rest of the zones. Zone 02 is often considered a "buffer" zone: too chaotic for the city to really want it, but too valuable to leave untouched — too controlled and close for the killjoys to claim it, but too dangerous to let it be absorbed. Thusly, it sits as something of a no-man's land, and is arguably the most dangerous part of crossing the zones in either direction.

That is, it's the most likely place to get killed by a person in the name of the grand conflict, anyhow.

ZONE 03

Twenty mile wide band around zone 02. Occasionally patrolled.

Many of the old buildings are gone, dusted away by the bombs of the wars or scorched up by the fires or crumbled away in the time since. Those left are the most sturdy, or else the ones rebuilt by dedicated zone dwellers. There's a few old neighborhoods, but mostly things aren't so closely or neatly laid out as the old-world neighborhoods used to be. Weather takes a turn for heat and dust and desperation: desert standard from here out.

As the beginning of proper killjoy territory, zone 03 is the most densely populated, and what most people think of when they're imagining the chaos of large groups and the vibrant party scene. Despite a decent number of permanent settlements, Better Living patrols don't sweep though very often, in part because they almost never find any actual killjoys, only the signs of life. (The rest, because it's simply too large and push back is too strong for the company to dedicate the resources to trying to lock it down.) Rebels living in 03 are heavily interconnected, and experts at avoiding patrols. With a whole system of bells and whistles and warning phrases, entire trading grounds empty in minutes ahead of patrol warnings only to go right back to their dealings the moment the coast is clear.

Popular destinations include Tommy Chow Mein's place, an old motel repurposed into a trading market in the east, Regal Riotess's Battlegrounds, a sparring and entertainment venue in the north, and the Hyper Thrust, a club and musical venue to the south. The Sun Sandbox, a music and event venue famous for its reflective quality, shines out in the west here. Many other traders center themselves in 03, coordinating into pop-up markets or setting up more permanent locations -such as the Wind Stop on the fence to the northeast- as killjoy movements across the zone support or demand.

ZONE 04

Twenty-five mile wide band around zone 03. Rarely patrolled.

Another fairly populated zone, though things spread out as the terrain and crumbling structures demand and groups become more distinguished. Drier, often flatter terrain means dust storms pick up in frequency here, and, though rainfall is typically sparse, flash floods run the risk of sweeping straight over things without much obstacle when they pour down out of the ridges in the northwest.

As opposed to the tight-knit nest network of zone 03, groups in zone 04 tend to be more distinct from and less trusting of each other. Turf disputes aren't entirely uncommon, though conflicting groups usually prefer boxing rings (one 'champion' from either crew battling it out) over all out brawls. Growing distances between settlements means radio contact becomes more important. It's thought, though it hasn't been proven, that Dr. Death runs the WKIL out of zone 04. Better Living patrols only ever cross into zone 04 if they're on the hunt for a specific target, and as such they're usually more hunting parties (colloquial "murders") than route 'patrol' parties.

04 houses a diverse mix of groups and locations: the infamous Fabulous Four's Diner sits to the north, while in the east a neutral settlement, Jasper, has planted their roots into an old lake bed. There's a little less of the party scene here, but it includes the Fuck You!!!! House, an establishment that promises bloodshed every evening, one way or another, and out in the flats there's Electric Starlight, part bar for their regulars who dwell around the old Channel Islands, part destination venue for the massive rave-like parties and shows that take place there as often as can be put together by the owner.

ZONE 05

Thirty mile wide band around zone 04. No patrol schedule.

Ambient radiation levels are a touch higher in zone 05, and pockets of danger exist that travelers and those trying to tame the outer zones should be wary of. Rainfall also takes a turn for the worst, as it becomes more common for it to be toxic to consume and/or cause burns to exposed skin from this point further (a happening not impossible but more rare, in the inner zones.)

To go with growing environmental dangers, there's a sharp drop-off in cooperation around this zone too. Groups tend to be less generous with their supplies, and while the waves remain a vital tool for communication and keeping ahead of things, crews that come face to face aren't likely to trust each other very much, if at all. The stakes are simply too high, the margin for error too narrow. Bad news is all too common: contract killers and more radical groups are easier to find, and easier to bump into.

Somewhere near or perhaps even within the Dead Zone to the northeast, a particularly vile and violent group of DESTROYA worshipers has set up permanent residence. They journey out from whatever base they have to attack others, city and zones alike, without prejudice. They're known to descend on churches or shrines of other desert deities with greater regularity and more demonstrative end results, but won't say no to fucking anyone up just for fun. The wise give them a wide berth, and heavily vet individuals who might only be posing as lost and looking for help...

ZONE 06

Thirty-five mile wide band around zone 05. No patrol schedule.

Sights include sprawling vistas of desert skies and plenty of odd happenings, but not much else goes on in 06 on the regular. The terrain gets tougher, less tame and more churned apart by the wars and the rattling of the ground since. Radiation ticks up a little higher, and the places where it really clings will have an unwary journeyer dizzy and good-as-dead before they can even guess what's going on. It's easy to stumble into a gruesome death, out here.

Many zone dwellers don't go this far. Those who do are often the spiritual (or crazy) type, drawn by the odd sightings and phenomena such as lights in the sky, voices in the air, and landmarks that move. Any of it may or may not be real, depending on which story gets told and who is doing the telling. The other dustkids who travel through 06 are typically only there to pass along messages:

Several churches to various zone deities are tucked away here and there, ready to welcome the lost or, in the case of the unmanned shrines, offerings to the likes of Papa Sol and the Phoenix Witch. The mailbox sits in a little valley due east, and marks the outside border of the zones — "the end of the world".

ZONE 07

Isolated location also called The Anomaly located in the western quadrant.

Plopped down on the coast like something that crawled up out of the ocean and gave up on trying to walk across the flats, 07 is a mystery of a thing. It is consistently drenched in heavy fog no matter the surrounding weather. On approach, the ground quickly gives way to a soggy, sticky mess typically found in bogs or marshes, and it's presumed the ground within the fog cloud is the same.

Presumed, because no one goes into 07. No one who wants to return, anyway. Even Better Living has stopped sending investigative probes, manned or otherwise. The readings never make it out, and the people only rarely do, and only do so greatly changed. Often, reduced to vague shadows of their former selves, or else entirely delusional, sometimes even violent.

The superstitious types often refer to zone 07 as 'the mist', 'the veil', or 'the thin place', believing it to be a location where the world of the dead comes into contact with the living. This rumor is largely fueled by the human-like shadows often seen in the mist. Whether they are spirits or simply shadows or something else entirely, no one can say.

Pursuing answers in the matter of what, exactly, 07 is never ends well.

ZONE SEVEN

An approximate 'safe' band of 5-10 miles around zone six.

So named because the city had already designated the anomaly on the coast as "zone 07", meaning that killjoys could refer to something by that name and it wouldn't immediately set off any alarms. This zone seven is mapped almost exclusively by word of mouth, it does not feature on Better Living maps ((it's only on this one for visual aid)), and is rarely written down by killjoys to better guard their knowledge of things that just might begin to be out of the city's reach.

A hostile terrain pitted with unstable ravines, there is little shelter, even less water than the established zones, and further threats of radiation spikes, electrical & sand storms, and a variety of hostile wildlife drawn in from the wilds by the potential for someone to eat. Even those that know the landmarks, where to find shelter and make use of what little water can be found, take risks going out into this area. So they tend not to, unless things are bad enough.

As things are now, The Haven is the only known establishment of any kind within zone seven. It is, technically, a lighthouse, a location that will offer aid to anyone who finds their way to it, but as you can imagine they don't typically get a lot of outside traffic. (In other words: it was absolutely bananas cage mad behavior to set up a permanent encampment of this size out here. Anyone who doesn't know the Haven for trade reasons probably only hears rumors and thinks they're all insane for trying.)

THE EMPTY ZONE

Officially, anything beyond the edge of zone 06: which is to say, “nothing.”

The perfect truth is that the lines aren't so rigid as is convenient to mark on a map, and there's all of seven to account for, with more gradually being explored, word of more safety spread as it's found. But it's dangerous work. Unforgiving work. Few people dare to push the limits of the outer edge, believing instead that the way to true freedom lies in dismantling Better Living, not running from it. As things are, the empty zone beyond the end of the world, the untamed wilds, really is nothing but nothing. In theory there are livable lands, ways to cross the old cities, looting or building, striking out. In theory there could even be settlements that don't and never did belong to BL/ind, people who survived and continue to scrape their way along, or maybe even thrive. In practice, there's no guides and no guarantees, no promise of anything. In practice, to push beyond zone seven is all but certain suicide. Very few dare try it. Even fewer return, and it's been many years since anyone attempted a major excursion.

Even Better Living goes under the earth to cross the distances between their cities.

[nescaveckwriter]

Moonflowers & Werewolves - Chapter Four💞🐺

Words: 1805

A/N: Hope you enjoy this chapter, y'all 💞 this one is something, let me know what you think 🐞

Warnings: Hospital, angst, swearing words(just two) abusive relationship, anything else let me know 💞🐞

Chapter Four🐺💞

"No! Tom No! Please Tom...! I... I'm sorry okay, I won't talk to him again" she whimpers

"Every single time you do this, talking to your male colleagues, would you rather want to be married to them?" He shouts

"I... It was about work I promise Tom" crying now, knowing what comes next.

"Your not even Beautiful Madison, I'm doing you a favor, being your husband" he grins

Before she could reply, his fist met her face, then her ribs hearing the crackling noise, he doesn't stop when she fell to the ground, just kicking her now, shouting about the pathetic, worthless human being she is, by the time he was done, she could hardly see through her black eyes, her delicate face was just a bloodied pulp, as for her she, just layed there, in a curled up ball, struggling to breathe, trying too silent the frantic sobs, not to make Tom even more mad.

Melissa stood next to this vulnerable looking women, listening to the words, that she whisper-screams in her sedated state "No! Tom No! Please Tom!" Noticing the spike on the heart rate monitor, its enough to send shivers down her spine, she's been a nurse for long enough to know how it sounds when a woman is afraid of getting beaten up again. "Whoever Tom was, was definitely abusive" thinking out loud.

Glancing over at the hallway where the other nurses and doctors runs towards the ER doors, wondering what is going on, striding closer, that's when she hears there's been an accident, multi persons getting rushed in, but her heart sunk when see saw Chris Argent her ex, with gunshots, ''wait what'', there's Eli, Malia, Jordan and even Peter, they all look pretty bad, but she's not worried about them knowing, that they can heal themselves, she's worried about Chris, as his just human, even if he thinks his invincible.

Melissa walks closer towards Madison's bed, its been a few days, since that dreadful evening, but Chris is going to be okay, he is resting, in ICU, as for the others there at least fine, all healed up and back at whatever there doing, this hospital, have stopped asking questions, as they all have an idea what's going on, except for this woman. 

Derek hasn't really left her side, every now and again, he'll hold her hand, of course he'll say its so that he can take away some of her pain, but she really knows, deep down he must feel a connection with her. ''Hey Derek'' her voice soft

He looks up towards her, ''Hey Melissa, why hasn't she woken up yet?''

''The doctor, wanted to keep her in a sedated state, she had some blood loss, and so he wanted to let her body heal a bit, but the sedation is lifted today'' she assured

He just nods his head, sitting back down in the chair next to the bed side, his eyes widens as he whispers underneath his breath ''how do I tell her, I'm a monster, I'm the reason she got hurt''

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, knowing its Melissa, he doesn't even look up, he hears her motherly voice ''Derek, she'll understand, and you saved her, remember''

Not a peep from him, as he just gently squeezes Melissa's hand, as a way to say thank you.

...

Eli walks through the doors of the hospital, knowing his father, is most probably at Miss's Wells bedside, why his not really sure, but all he knows in this short period of time, he has grown fond of her. ''Hey dad'' 

''Hello son, how was your day?'' a smile on his lips

''The usual'' he pouts 

''What happened son?''

Eli just shakes his head ''nothing just tons of homework''

''Let me see, with what I can help'' he gestures for him too come closer,  the two of them sit there busy figuring out math together.

As her eyes starts to open, the sight of the dark - haired man and his son, sitting in front of her, warmed her heart, but wait a minute, where is she exactly? Inspecting the room, realizing she's in a hospital room, then feeling the pain in her upper chest area, what the hell? What happened? Trying to recall what happened, but it's all so blurry, she's pretty sure, Derek got hurt as well? But he looks fine, as she hold her inner dialogue, trying to figure what exactly happened, a woman's sweet voice breaks her thought.

''Welcome back Madison'' Melissa smiled

Derek and Eli's heads swing towards her, ''Hello Miss Wells'' the boy's voice sounds soft and low

''Maddie, how do you feel, are you okay?'' concern in his smoky voice 

Her voice brittle ''w.. what happened?''

Derek was surprised to hear she doesn't remember a thing, but he is a little relieved to be honest. Its Melissa, who said she's been in accident, and after awhile Melissa send father and son, out of the room, closing the curtain, she went to sat at the end of the bed.  ''My name is Melissa McCall, I was your nurse, honey I'm going to ask you a question okay, I need you to tell me the truth''

Searching the older woman's face, with her beautiful curly hair, hanging on her shoulders, just nodding letting her know she can ask, but she weren't expecting the following.

Assuring, sweet smile tugging at the corners of her mouth ''Sweetie, who's Tom''

Shock and fear on her face ''Is, is he here'' her voice shaky

Shaking her head, ''No honey, its just I heard you talking during your sedation, and the way it sounded'' pausing for a second as she sees the woman, with her delicate face, is being replaced with fear and anger, clearing her throat, ''well it sounded as if he was abusive''

Shocked by what the nurse, just said, she sat right up, the anger and shame creeping up in her chest, ''how could you assume he was abusive, do I look like the kind of woman, who'd put up with that?''

Trying to calm her down, ''Okay, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, please, I was just worried,''

Her eyes spitting fire, ''no need to worry, it's my life, leave me alone now''

''Listen I didn't..'' she couldn't even finish her sentence when the woman said ''I said leave me alone, you don't know me, LEAVE NOW! without a word Melissa stood up and leaves. 

Holding her shaky hand in front of her mouth, trying to silence the frantic sobs, escaping her body, her thoughts racing, ''why'd I have to talk in my sleep, no-one knows what he did, how he used me as his punching bag, of course I wanted to leave him, for a while, but I was too afraid, afraid he was going to kill me, but the day I walked in on him and that blonde, I knew it was my way out, as he would much rather want too hold his good man, image in front of the new woman, so as soon as the divorced papers where signed, I made the excuse I had too leave, I never told anyone what happened behind closed doors, though I tried to warn the new woman, saying he has a short temper, but she just made like I was making up stories, Tom had this posh image, that his a good man, helping the community but in all honesty he was a monster. I never even told my mom, and by asking , how does she ever trust again or how is she supposed too get over the heart break, wasn't because I loved him so, its was merely bout how do I stop feeling so ashamed, so heartbreaking of letting him beat me like I'm worthless, like I don't matter,'' lowering her head in shame, both hands covering her face,  ''I was good at covering up more than just the bruises, busted lips, or pain, I'm a expert in covering up really, how worthless I feel, how, unloved and how ugly, how useless, why did all this feelings, memories have to come too the surface again, and how the hell, did that women know, what she went through, without even knowing her, but her parents, her friends, no-one could notice anything''.  

In frustration she takes a pillow and throws it somewhere in the room, not even taking notice of the footsteps coming closer and the man slightly opening the curtain, to see if he can enter, he strides closer towards her. The man hovering over her, making her flinch a little, when she glanced at him. Her eyes bloodshot, her cheeks stained with tears and her body trembling, her breathing shaky, her voice brittle ''Derek, please leave''

His eyes locking with hers, ''you don't really need me too leave, you need someone, to tell you, its all going to be okay''

''I wish I could believe you'' her voice breaking

His not really sure, what is wrong, is it what happened or is it something else, but it feels like his heart are being shredded by the sadness of this beautiful woman. Without warning he places his arms around her trembling body, holding her close to his chest.

Surprised by the comforting hug, she closes her eyes, sort of savoring the moment, trying to still her breathing, she realizes the pain, she felt in her chest a few minutes ago, is almost gone now, as if its leaving her body, but how is that possible? Opening her eyes slightly, not saying a word, just peeping at the muscular arms, covering her body, but what catches her attention is the way his veins isn't the normal light blue color, no, its like his veins are this dark, liquid pulsing through, from where his hands is wrapped around her arm, till up, under his sleeve, she glances up at him, his eyes are closed, but his face is stricken with pain. 

Gasping for air, ''What the hell are you''

Leaving the embrace, he stood back, the veins in his arms turning back too normal, shock on his face, ''Maddie, I can explain''

Shaking her head, her eyes widened, ''This, this is crazy, how, how do you do that''

Sighing now ''I wished, you could knew me better, before I had too tell you''

''Tell me what'' she questioned 

Clearing his throat, his eyes searching hers, ''You got hurt, because I failed to protect you, because hunters came looking for me, how they knew where too look, I'm not sure, I'm sorry''

Confused '' Why would hunters come looking for you?''

Running his hands over his face, his voice low, his green-hazel eyes turning into a shocking blue.

Surprised ''How, did your eyes change color like that?''

''Maddie,'' he starts, ''I'm a good person, or at least I try to be'' letting out a nervous giggle ''I can't believe its so hard telling you this, I've never struggled like this before'' his eyes pleading now with hers. '' I'm a Werewolf...'' 

@cutedisneygrl

Chapter Five Here :)

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Dawn of the Duelverse - (an alternate Post-Crisis DC Historia)

by IGeo An alternate history of the Post-Crisis DC Universe. The Anti-Monitor's mad dream of erasing positive matter from existence has been dashed. By all accounts, The Multiverse should've been made one. Instead, by some unknown means, mitosis occurred. Now what was five is only two. In the aftermath of the crisis, with the worlds of the Justice Society and Justice League dividing the spoils of the other surviving three between them, the new "Duelverse" finds itself settling into a new paradigm. Worlds have lived, worlds have died, and nothing will ever be the same. Words: 1205, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: DCU (Comics), Justice Society of America (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Justice League of America (Comics), Infinity Inc. (Comics), Kingdom Come (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics), Superman (Comics), The Question (Comics), Power Girl (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen, Multi, Other Characters: Judy Garrick, Jay Garrick, Alan Scott (DCU), Kent Nelson, Al Pratt, Kal-L | Earth-2 Superman, Bruce Wayne, Vic Sage, David Sikela, Kyle Rayner, Karen Starr | Kara Zor-L, Sandman (Character), Nathaniel Adam, Christopher Smith | Peacemaker, Jared Stevens, Jessica Cruz, Simon Baz, Doomsday (Superman), Ultra-Humanite, Amanda Waller, Ted Kord, Michael Carter (DCU), Peter Cannon, Sonia Sato, Sparkington Northrup, Yolanda Montez, Lyta Trevor-Hall, Koriand'r (DCU), Wesley Dodds, Jim Corrigan, Mar Novu | The Monitor, The Childminder, Matthew Tyler, Courtney Whitmore, Diana (Wonder Woman), Iris West II, Olivia Queen | Oliver Queen's Daughter, Avia | Scott Free and Big Barda's Daughter, Jennifer Pierce, Mar'i Grayson, Helena Wayne Relationships: Helena Wayne & Original Character(s), Kara Zor-L & John Constantine, Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Mary Batson | Mary Bromfield & Freddy Freeman, Dinah Lance/Oliver Queen, Jennifer-Lynn Hayden/Kyle Rayner, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Pre-Crisis, Post-Crisis (DCU), Earth-2 (DCU), Earth-1 (DCU), Justice Society of America (DCU), Mentioned Teen Titans (DCU), What If? (Marvel Comics), Elseworlds, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Parallel Universes, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Earth-22 (Kingdom Come Comics), Documentation, Alternate History, Worldbuilding, Super Squad (Legacies), Superheroes via https://ift.tt/SdfeWmI

[kisskissbanggang]

Jumpspace Renegade - ep. 13 ✨🚀

[3.8k words, 15min. read - Stray Kids Multi Fic, Scifi!au, Choose Your Own Adventure - Minho x Fem. Reader, Seungmin x Fem. Reader, Chan x Fem. Reader - SFW/Smut in Other Chapters/SOME Spice - Navigating Feelings, Platonic(?) Intimacy, Surprisingly Sweet, Surprisingly Intimidating, Time to Question Some Ethics, Emotional Vulnerability is Hard, Ominous Plot Hints, Forming Alliances, Loyalty Crisis, Delicious Banter and Flirting and Tension, We Finally Left the Ocean Planet, Mentions of Drugging, Always Check the Tags]

[Episodes on Fridays 7pm pst, Polling closes Saturdays 7pm pst]

[Series Masterlist | Come Say Hi!]

The scent of seawater on your skin was bittersweet while you patted a towel over your damp clothes, still dripping in your cabin. To tell the truth, you were so mad that you were surprised you weren’t steaming. Your impromptu swim left you feeling a little filmy to the touch. So now you weren’t just considering venting all your garbage to Minho, but maybe taking a shower as well, just leave the salt air behind and move on.

But you were still really pissed. 

Much to your chagrin, Minho was right. Jisung was such a dick. But was Minho even in a place to talk? You figured he must’ve been wondering what was going on in the time it took for him to get locked in his cabin until it was almost time to launch. As far as you were concerned, asking first was simply a courtesy. You surveyed the room, remembering that Chan had dramatically sealed the hatches to Minho’s cabin. Both the access under the port and the one in the closet would be off-limits. You could just let yourself in, but that seemed intrusive. And what about the cameras? The security cameras around the ship helped you get into hot water with Chan in the first place. If you could avoid the cameras, that’d be even better.

You checked out the closet again. The hatches may be closed, you figured, but that wall inside the closet was still shared with Minho’s cabin, and may even be the closest to it, judging by how it was recessed. You changed into some dry clothes once you were no longer soaked, and then approached the closet. When you pressed your ear to the furthest back wall, there was no hint of activity, but you also weren’t sure what you were expecting. You tapped your fingernail against the brushed metal surface and waited.

Half a minute passed, and a tap responded to your own.

“Hey,” you grinned, “you got a minute? I want to try something.”

“Try something?” Minho repeated, amused. “Sure, just let me kick out all my dinner guests.” His voice was surprisingly clear through the wall, or at least clearer than you’d expected. 

You hung up your towel and remembered to put on your sneakers again, sullenly remembering that you’d be re-entering artificial gravity soon. The garage was cold and empty when you poked your head into the alcove that contained your and Minho’s cabins. Sure enough, there was the camera, out in the top corner of the workshop, furthest away from you. For a moment, you wondered how you could temporarily disable it, when the ship rumbled to life. This was a good development, you realized. Chan would be too busy monitoring the launch to be watching the cameras.

The keycard was slipping between your sweaty fingers while you tiptoed over to Minho’s door. Sure enough, it beeped open right away.

God, Chan was dumb. Of course the keys were universal.

But, you internally admitted, you did take advantage of a pretty dire situation to not so much steal the card as keep it. The key working on all the locks could very well be an open secret.

Inside the cabin, you expected Minho to be lounging on his bed, since that was what was on the other side of your wall. Instead, he was inspecting his chin in the mirror inside his closet. “I’m kind of glad I never could grow a beard like I used to before the Marines,” he nonchalantly remarked. “I haven’t been able to shave in days since I got grabbed at the spaceport–”

“Well, you were right,” you blurted heatedly. “I’m pissed at Jisung.”

Minho looked at you, his eyes lit up. “Is that what you’ve been up to?”

You were about to answer, go on a full tirade, when the ship rumbled underfoot again. According to the view outside, the ship was taxiing to the one boost lane in The Hatchery. The intercom must’ve been muted or deactivated in this cabin, because you could hear it muffled in your own room next door, beginning the countdown, but not in here. Minho sat on his bed.

“So you’re pissed at Jisung,” he echoed you. “What’re you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully. “I don’t know what it’s going to be like at Sentury yet, or even how long we’re going to be there, so–”

You were interrupted twice. First, Minho blinked at you, clearly confused.

Then the ship launched. You didn’t quite internalize what that countdown was for, you realized. 

Minho caught you when you went flying, breaking your fall onto the bed and preventing you from slamming into the back wall. 

He was a little distracted, judging by the way he softly smiled. “You smell like the ocean. Did you have fun?” 

“I loved it,” you smirked back. 

“So, wait,” he interrupted with a shake of his head, getting you both back on topic, “I thought this was all going down at Victory Meridian.”

You watched clouds slowly turn into space outside Minho’s window. “That’s not exactly what I heard,” you clarified. “How did you get Jisung to spill anyway? All I remember is you left the port authority before us and ended up back at the ship after us.”

Minho shrugged. With how he’d caught you, he was now basically lying beside you in bed. “Jisung was being cagey so I pulled over into an alley and Hyunjin kept watch.” 

Your apparent look of horror made him pause.

“Calm down; I didn’t hurt him. I just gave him an idea of what could happen if he didn’t talk.”

“Fine,” you accepted. “So he talked.”

“Well, he clearly didn’t tell me the truth,” Minho huffed, agitated.

“I don’t think that’s the case,” you argued. “At least not entirely. Jisung told me this is going down at Sentury but the payday would be in Victory Meridian.”

Minho stroked his chin. Annoyingly, from here, he looked gorgeous in the light of the jumpspace stream. “Interesting,” he ruminated. “Anything in particular?”

You were about to answer him, tell him all about the nightclub and the safety deposit box but – at that precise moment – the door opened.

Chan stared at both of you, a tray of food from the galley in his hands. He didn’t yell, he didn’t curse; he only raised an eyebrow. The captain simply walked over to Minho’s desk, roughly set the tray down, and returned to the heavy cabin door, tongue poked into his cheek in clear frustration. He silently waited, leaning against the door with his arms folded until you warily climbed out of Minho’s bed. You were about to leave when he stopped you, expectantly waiting for you again with a hand outstretched. At this, you pulled out the keycard and spitefully dropped it into his hand.

Satisfied, he let you exit before he swung Minho’s door shut and went on his way, not even taking any time to berate you.

“Hey!” you stopped him. “Don’t you want to know what was going on?”

“No,” Chan stubbornly replied while he headed back toward the galley. “I was just wondering what you were up to since you weren’t on the bridge for launch. Sorry for interrupting.”

You almost scoffed when Chan roughly closed the workshop door behind him, and you returned to your cabin. There was a tapping sound at the back of your closet. When you approached and tapped in return, the noise stopped.

“Hey,” came Minho’s voice. “Be careful about this lead, okay? We don’t really have enough info.”

You wondered if Jisung was being careful, if that had ever been a thought in his mind when he told either of you any of this, when your stomach voiced a wretched grumble at you. Chan had been holding a tray of food, so it must be time to eat, and now your hunger caught up with you. But the thought of sharing space with either of those assholes, Chan or Jisung, was killing you. Especially Jisung. You wrinkled your nose at the conclusion that leaving to grab food would probably mean running into the pilot’s stupid face.

As if he read your mind, your intercom crackled on. “Hey,” Jisung greeted, “I know you’re pissed at me, so I just wanted to tell you I already grabbed my food.”

You felt a little ridiculous, side-eyeing the intercom as if it were Jisung himself.

“I meant it, by the way,” he added. “I bet you already talked to Minho somehow. And if you did, I’m sure you figured out I didn’t give him the whole story. I really did tell you first, just like I wanted to and just like I told you.”

There were those feelings again. You really did hate how much this complicated things.

“Hey,” came Jisung again. “You know I can activate the Talk button on your intercom, right? I better hear you leave in the next ten seconds to go get some food or I’m going to annoy the shit out of you.”

You rolled your eyes and pettily blew hard into the receiver on your intercom when you walked past it, swinging the door shut behind you for good measure to make sure you provided a good racket on Jisung’s end. Passing through the workshop, the seal of the galley door blew more chilled air at you and you were thankful you changed into some dry clothes, but now you were living with crunchy, salty hair. By now, you were bemoaning the idea of having to spend time around anyone when you’d already had such a long day. Thankfully, however, it seemed everyone felt similarly, with Hyunjin breezing out of the kitchen carrying a plate and heading right back downstairs. Jisung was upstairs, and you assumed Chan was too, and it made sense to you that Felix and Changbin were nowhere to be seen. Jeongin was busy washing dishes, assumedly having also helped take over cooking duties since Felix was indisposed, but he seemed to hear you nonetheless. He peeked over his shoulder, waving when he caught sight of you and drying his hands so he could hand you a plate he apparently had saved for you, just like Felix had begun to do. 

And despite all this, you were surprised when Seungmin emerged from the kitchen behind him, his glasses still smudged with Azure and dressed down into a sweatshirt with some joggers.

For a mortifying second, you wondered if Seungmin still liked you.

Of course he didn’t, not after Chan humiliated you at the beginning of the day, outing your escapades to everyone but especially to Seungmin, the one person who cared, apparently. 

“Hey!” the navigator acknowledged you, eyes lit up and everything. “I was just thinking about you.” 

Oh?

He sat down in the booth in the common area and waved you over. You tried to compose yourself while you sat down beside him.

“So, how was your meeting?” you tentatively asked, even though you thought you might know the answer already. Minho had mentioned something about the navigator likely dealing with some minor memory loss.

Seungmin self-consciously laughed into his coffee. “I wish I remembered it.”

“You don’t remember?” you implored. “What do you remember? From anything? From this morning?”

He held up his hand, thumb meeting his fingertips to make a “0”. “Nothing,” he chuckled. “I’m betting you already know what happened, because Chan told me when I woke up the first time, and he made sure to tell me that everyone knows. Well, I mean, everyone but me. I remember yesterday, at least. Changbin and Felix are fighting? The last thing I remember was hanging out with Jisung and Hyunjin after we landed.”

“Changbin and Felix aren’t fighting anymore…” you dazedly informed him, trailing off while you wrapped your head around this. Assumedly, from what you could tell, the last events Seungmin recalled were the two of you getting frisky on the bridge during landing and then getting ready for customs afterwards. Nothing from that morning. Nothing about Chan outing you. Seungmin didn’t know you slept with almost half the inhabitants of the ship.

If you wanted, apparently, you were in the clear. You didn’t obliterate your chances with Seungmin. 

He still liked you, and it was obvious from the way he was eager to hear more.

“What?!” he laughed. “What do you mean, they’re not fighting? This was, quite literally, the worst fight those two ever had.”

“Well,” you laughed, still trying to ground this whole revelation about Seungmin’s memory, “Felix got tagged when we were on the surface–”

“WHAT?!” Seungmin blurted again, gobsmacked.

It went back and forth like this. First, you informed Seungmin about Chan’s ridiculous punishment with the gun. You did fudge a detail or two in your retelling, mostly leaving the sordid cause of the whole debacle out of it. Instead you opted to frame it as simply Chan getting back at you for talking to Minho since you came on board.

“What a dick,” the navigator commiserated. “I don’t know what he has against you, but Chan is such a dick sometimes. It makes sense that you’d talk to Minho; he’s the first person that you met on board and you both got picked up on T’kaarm. I assume there’s some mutual interest there.”

You could think of a couple reasons Chan had it out for you. First and biggest of all was how he did not trust your interactions with Minho. That was pretty justified, but there was something about it that felt a little… personal. But that wasn’t what stood out to you most.

For some reason, it never really occurred to you that Minho hadn’t been detained long when you stumbled into the Ambler in the first place, but that instead he’d only recently been bagged. It suddenly seemed strange that you’d never run into him before then, but you pushed past this, instead regaling everything that had gone down in The Hatchery for Seungmin, from Minho saving Felix to all of you finding Jisung when you went to go spring Hyunjin out of jail. You did decide to leave out Jisung’s lead, however. Like Minho said, there still wasn’t much information surrounding it. Nevertheless, Seungmin was enraptured, following every word you said until you decided to share what Changbin and Jeongin could recall of his meeting with his clients.

Seungmin’s cheeks rouged for a minute. “I wouldn’t put it past me to mess up a drop like this,” he explained. “I’ve been a little stressed ever since I realized I needed to get those guys physical charts so I’m not surprised that I probably made it look like I was about to pull something. Can’t say I’m even mad. But Azure? I haven’t messed with that stuff since Academy and I hated it.”

“I’m glad you’re alright, though,” you worried. Feeling a little brazen, you reached for his glasses and used your shirt to wipe the remaining blue dust off the lenses. It was admittedly hilarious, feeling bashful about this when the last time you’d been close like this had been spent with you and Seungmin engaging in much more than innocent little gestures.

“I’m glad you’re alright, too,” he smiled. “Sounds like you’ve had a crazy day.” He had the kindest eyes behind those glasses. You mused for a second that this must’ve been what it was like to date normally.

In a moment that caught you viscerally off guard, Seungmin combed your hair back behind your ear with his fingers.

“You still smell like the ocean,” he sweetly observed, inadvertently echoing Minho from earlier and making your heart thump embarrassingly in your chest. “What else are you doing tonight?”

“Me?” you dumbly asked. “I was thinking a shower. Crazy day and all, like you said. And you?”

“Oh,” Seungmin shrugged flippantly. “I was thinking of turning in... Still pretty tired.”

This whole exchange felt incredibly loaded. Was Seungmin trying to see if you’d proposition him? He was expectantly lingering in the booth, his arm slung on the back of the seat where he faced you. You came to the realization that this might’ve even been an opportunity to kiss him.

But was now even the time?

You may have had a clear slate, but of the seven souls on board besides you and him, you still had the knowledge that you’d fucked three of them.

Not to mention they all knew, too.

Literally the only person who didn’t know was Seungmin.

Jisung’s remark that Seungmin was an all or nothing kind of guy was gnawing at you.

And you didn’t know how to feel about that.

Which, regrettably, meant you had to leave this be.

“I should let you get going to bed then,” you begrudgingly decided. You managed to put on a gentle smile, but that didn’t stop Seungmin from looking a little crushed.

Fine. Maybe you could cut it halfway.

You leaned forward, softly kissing his cheek. “Goodnight, Seungmin,” you smirked. You pulled back before he got any ideas. 

That same, warm smile returned. “Goodnight, Nova,” he bid you farewell, watching as you slid out of the booth and got up to your feet. 

You giddily headed back to your cabin, caught between feeling like you got away with something but also feeling the rush of having any sort of positive effect like this on a guy like Seungmin. And it wasn’t even like you were lying; you did still want to shower, the idea of some warm water really on your skin to clear your head was sounding especially refreshing after the whole day. 

The act of grabbing your toiletries was automatic, drifting through time and space and only coming back into consciousness long enough to note that Seungmin already went back upstairs by the time you retreated into the central head on board the ship. Your shower shoes did a terrible job as usual keeping you magnetized to the floor, but all that mattered was the soothing sensation of physically washing off all this action so you could recenter yourself for whatever was coming next. 

Mainly, there was the headache of this lead that Jisung had given you. Club scenes were never really your thing, but you figured they were pretty similar anywhere you went. Assumedly, if there was a hidden treasure, someone had to hate whoever was keeping it enough to spill where it was being kept and how to access it. In a club or casino setting, this was almost always some employee, but you could figure it out if this was someone in management, too, or even someone connected on the outside.

And, of course, there was the bigger headache. Did you even want to work with Jisung on this?

He stole your shit and risked losing it and went to jail for it – all for this lead.

But he also made sure to only tell you the whole truth.

Allegedly.

Following this trail of thought, something Minho had said earlier suddenly stood out to you, plain as day, lit up in neon lights:

Hyunjin was standing watch while Minho coerced Jisung into telling him the partial truth that he ended up getting. 

What exactly did that look like?

Keeping watch in an alleyway could’ve meant that Hyunjin had been meters away… or maybe right next to them.

Your mind raced when the seal of the door to the washroom hissed, making you jump.

“Hyunjin, that better not be you. I know you hate jail but if you’re wasting the filtration system again I’m gonna–”

Of course.

You and Chan stared at each other, the captain walking in on you for a second time. His eyes blew wide open upon this realization and he clapped his cybernetic hand over his eyes before he turned around. Unlike you, who preferred to walk in and out of the showers fully dressed, Chan only wore a towel secured around his hips.

“Do you want to say sorry?” you jeered. “Not very fitting behavior for a captain, walking in on a lady.” 

“Some lady,” scoffed Chan. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on between you and the bounty?” He still wasn’t looking at you from the doorway to the shower stalls.

You turned off the water, leaving the annoying hum of the vent as background noise for this confrontation. Chan’s Adam's apple visibly bobbed when you grabbed your towel near the doorway, taking your sweet time to dry off.

“You’re too paranoid, Captain,” you coolly dismissed him with a roll of your eyes. “I thought we were friends. Or at least potential friends, as you phrased it. Why are you so convinced something is going on?”

“Look,” he huffed, a hand still covering his eyes, “I need to know. Not even as a friend, not even as a potential friend, but as Captain. This guy is fucking dangerous and I need to know if anything is putting my crew or ship at risk.”

“Your ship?” you immaturely questioned.

“Jisung’s ship,” Chan grumbled. “And just because you fucked the guy doesn’t mean you know him.”

You reached for Chan’s cybernetic arm. He stubbornly closed his eyes instead, wrenching them more tightly shut when he felt you hook your used towel on his fingers. “Likewise, handsome,” you refuted. “I don’t know you because we fucked, just like you don’t know me. What’s so dangerous about him anyway?”

“You’re impossible,” the captain bit back, glaring at you until he caught sight of you still standing naked in front of him. He shut his eyes again. “I’m just asking for some fucking respect and loyalty if you’re going to be on the crew.”

“And who says you don’t have it?” you laughed, taking extra long to pull on your clean clothes. “Who says I’m not playing him?”

You finished getting dressed and teasingly pulled at Chan’s own towel. He dropped yours and immediately saved his from falling, eyes flying open in the process. There was that look again, like he could eat you alive and enjoy every minute of it. For hating being called a pirate, he pretty firmly embodied the reputation such a title would have.

But maybe the role of bounty hunter and intersystem trader carried similar connotations. Chan seemed like just as much of a scoundrel as Minho did. You respected it, at least a little.

“If that’s the case, Miss Nova,” mocked the captain, rolling his neck before he squared his shoulders across from you in the doorway, “if you are playing him, then why not make an alliance? Not to the crew or anything, just to me. Just so I know you actually have my back, no matter what you do, or who you fuck.”

Lucky for Chan, he finally cracked you. You hadn’t considered that the captain would hit you with the exact proposition Minho had, and you needed to think about this. A hint of a smirk tugged at Chan’s lips. If you took him up on this, you could approach the whole arrangement exactly like you were with Minho: say yes, and do whatever the hell you want later if it came down to it. But, obviously, there was the very real possibility that this could all blow up in your face. 

[prankyclown]

"Did Elon Musk’s SpaceX Starship Explosion Cause Flight Disruptions at Florida Airports?"

SpaceX’s highly anticipated Starship launch on March 6 turned into an unexpected “prank” on Florida’s air traffic system when the rocket decided it had had enough of this planet and self-destructed mid-air. Or, as SpaceX put it in their classic engineer-speak:

“During Starship's ascent burn, the vehicle experienced a rapid unscheduled disassembly and contact was lost.”

Translation? Boom.

A live stream captured the moment when, about eight minutes into the launch, engines started cutting off like they were quitting their jobs. The booster had successfully returned to the tower, but the main spacecraft apparently took one look at the situation and said, “Nope.” It spun out of control before ghosting the entire SpaceX team.

So, What’s This Got to Do With Florida Airports?

Apparently, Starship didn’t just explode—it scattered space debris like confetti at a surprise party, leading to flight delays at major Florida airports, including Miami International, Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood, and even Philadelphia (which, to be fair, has enough travel chaos without help from Elon). Smaller airports in Orlando and West Palm Beach also got caught in the madness.

FAA Steps In Like a Hall Monitor

The Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) jumped in, declaring a Debris Response Area (a fancy way of saying, “Uh-oh, stuff is falling from space”) and slowing down air traffic until things settled.

But What If This Was Actually… a Sackman Prank?

Think about it. What if Sackman had somehow infiltrated SpaceX and “accidentally” switched a few controls? Imagine Musk sitting in mission control, watching his multi-billion-dollar spacecraft pull a disappearing act like, “Wait, that wasn’t supposed to happen…”

Or better yet, what if Sackman had been onboard Starship the whole time, only to realize halfway through the ascent that space isn’t his vibe? Cue emergency exit.

Moral of the story? When launching the most powerful rocket in history, double-check your engine settings—and make sure Sackman isn’t lurking around mission control.

Your Thoughts?

If Sackman was behind this, what would be his next prank?

Should Elon Musk hire Sackman as SpaceX’s official “disruption consultant”?

More importantly… would Sackman survive re-entry from space?

One thing’s for sure—Florida wasn’t ready for this level of chaos.

[trendilyyours]

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