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sokkascroptop · 4 years

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traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 13

part 1 | part 12 | part 14

A/N: Here’s a cute little part. Occurs in ‘the headband’ episode, but doesn’t encompass the whole episode, just the important parts :)

Y/N sat there in silence after Aang told her what he had learned in just one day at a Fire Nation school. What did that mean for her education of five years at one? She tugged one of their blankets around her shoulders because even next to the fire she was shivering. She felt like she had been punched hard in the stomach and all the wind was knocked out of her.

“I don’t know about this,” Aang whispered. “It feels wrong to steal someone else’s clothes.”

Katara and Y/N exchanged a look. “I call the silk robe!” Katara shouted as she jumped over the rocks they had hidden behind.

“But I guess if it’s for the good of humanity… I call the suit!” Aang followed her.

The rest of them joined and ran between the lines of clothes looking for anything that might fit. Y/N was reaching for a pair of pants when Katara stopped her. “Pick something else.”

“Why?”

“People are used to seeing you wear Fire Nation clothes. You’ll be more recognizable if you pick something you always wear.”

“Fine.” Y/N wrinkled her nose and pulled a deep red skirt from the clothesline.

“This too.” She whipped a shirt at Y/N’s face. When she caught a look at it she shook her head wildly. “No way!” Y/N worked to keep her voice low so the man they were stealing from couldn’t hear her. “It’ll be hard enough to fight in a skirt, Katara. I’m not wearing it.”

---

Y/N poked at the bare skin of her midriff. “I mean seriously, Katara. I have to shrug this shirt on like it’s a robe and it ties in the back. If a bad guy gets ahold of that I’ll be half-naked.”

Katara pulled her hair out of its braids and hair loopies and didn’t spare a glance at the other girl. “You complain almost as much as Sokka.”

Y/N huffed and crossed her arms. “I don’t.” She unwound the leather tie around her braid and let her hair hang loose down her back, tying a similar top knot to Katara’s. “Let’s just go find the others.”

“How do we look?” Katara asked the other three. Y/N gave a very unenthusiastic twirl. Y/N turned back to notice how Aang’s eyes widened and he blushed as he looked at Katara. Y/N raised an eyebrow and glanced at Katara’s face, who was looking back at Aang with soft eyes. What is going on here? Y/N hummed in thought.

“You look like a girl,” Sokka said as his eyes bounced from Y/N’s skirt to her face.

“Thank you for that astute observation. I am a girl,” Y/N replied drily.

Sokka was blushing furiously. “No, I mean–”

“Oh, Katara. Your necklace,” Aang interrupted.

Katara rubbed the carved bone. “I guess it’s pretty obviously from the Water Tribe.”

“Don’t worry,” she patted Katara’s shoulder. “We’ll get you something else in town so it doesn’t feel like you lost it.”

---

Y/N slid the new bracelet she had bought around her upper arm while she listened to Aang talk. All of them bought something to make their disguises more authentic, while also being able to feel more like themselves; a new Fire Nation necklace for Katara, a flame pin to hold together Sokka’s top knot, a headband for Toph and the bracelet to help hide the burn scar on Y/N’s bicep.

“I used to visit my friend Kuzon here a hundred years ago. Just follow my lead.” Aang confidently turned the corner of the building they were behind and winked at a guy on the street. “Greetings, my good hotman!”

Toph pulled on Y/N’s elbow. “Is this really how they talk in the Fire Nation?”

“Uhh.. you know, I didn’t go into the city much but I’m almost one hundred percent positive that no they don’t,” Y/N whispered.

“Spirits, do not stop him. This is hilarious,” Toph laughed as Aang tipped his head to another man walking by, calling him ‘hotman’.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I wish you could see the looks people are giving him.”

The five of them stopped in front of a restaurant. “Oh, I didn’t know we were going to a meat place,” Aang said a little dejectedly

“Everyone here eats meat!” Sokka exclaimed. “Even the meat!” He pointed over to a cow-hippo who was eating meat off the ground. Y/N’s stomach turned at the sight. Maybe she didn’t want to eat meat today either.

---

Aang left, promising to meet them in the same spot outside after he found something vegetarian. Ten minutes had passed and there was still no sign of him. Katara was beginning to pace with worry.

“He could have gotten lost looking for something to eat, right?” She asked the rest of them.

“We could go look around for him?” Y/N offered. When she noticed the hint of fear in Katara’s eyes, she added, “Nothing happened to him of course. He probably just got lost! Or he’s looking at some shop. How about you and Toph stay here, wait for him to see if he comes back. Sokka and I can wander the town looking for him.”

“We can?” Sokka asked.

Y/N nudged his ribs.

“We can,” he confirmed. He popped the last bit of his elk-caribou kebab in his mouth and threw the stick away. “Aang will come back and we’ll feel silly for being worried about him.”

“I hope you’re right, Sokka.” Katara said.

---

“Ooh, let’s look in this shop,” Sokka marveled, pulling Y/N along with him. It was only a shop full of little trinkets and bags but everything Sokka saw excited him.

“What do you think of this bag?” Sokka tossed the strap over his shoulder and posed.

“You have an Earth Kingdom bag back at camp that looks the same,” she retorted.

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but now that we’re here, I need a Fire Nation one.”

Y/N shrugged and Sokka took that as her statement on what she thought of the bag. He placed it back on the table and picked up a ceramic box. “What about this box?” he asked.

She took it from his outstretched hands and inspected it. It was a black box with a golden Fire Nation flame on top. “What are you going to put in the box?” she asked as she handed it back to him.

“I–um, cool rocks that I find?”

Y/N hummed, amused. “And what are you going to do with the box full of cool rocks?”

“Put it in my bag,” Sokka muttered. “Fine! I won’t get it!”

---

“You’re not very fun to shop with.” Sokka said when they left.

Y/N looked up at the sun to check the time. “We’re supposed to be looking for Aang, not shopping.”

Sokka waved his hands. “Aang is fine. He’s the Avatar, he can take care of himself.”

“I’m assuming by the way Katara reacted that he doesn’t necessarily go off by himself a lot.”

“Katara–” he paused to think of the right word, “–she mother-hens us.” He held up his hands defensively. “Not that I’m saying we don’t need it, because sometimes it’s nice, but she worries entirely too much.”

Y/N stopped a fruit stand and picked up a ripe peach. “I don’t know, it’s kind of nice.” She passed along a few coins to the merchant and handed a second one to Sokka.

“How is it nice?” Sokka asked, then bit into the flesh of the peach.

“I don’t know. The way I grew up there was never anyone worried about when I would come home, you know? I just came and went as I pleased and then when I moved to the palace it was the same way.”

“You lived at the palace?” Sokka blurted out.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Y/N watched as Sokka cut the pit of the peach out with a small knife and tossed it into the road. He nodded at her to continue. “I moved to the capital to go to school and about a year after, I moved into the palace.” She bit into the peach and wiped the juice off her chin with the back of her hand.

“Why though? Why not live with your parents?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Do you always ask this many questions?”

“I’m just trying to figure you out,” Sokka stuttered.

“Why?” Y/N giggled. She abruptly stopped when Sokka blushed and gave her a look she couldn’t decipher.

“I just want to,” he finally said. “We don’t know anything about you.”

“Well, if you must know–it’s embarrassing–but my parents encouraged it actually. They were ecstatic that I was able to get close to the Royal Family and even though we weren’t nobility they had this absurd fantasy that I could marry Zuko.” Y/N covered her face in humiliation.

Sokka shared a look of disgust. “Fire Prince Ponytail, huh?”

She smiled at the joke, but it faded quickly; the hurt of Zuko’s betrayal still heavy on her heart. “He wasn’t always like that.” Y/N ran quickly to his defense. “I knew him when he was still good.”

Sokka collapsed on the ground and leaned up against a wall. “So tell me about it.”

Y/N sat next to him and bumped his arm with her shoulder. “About what?”

“Your palace life, Princess.”

---

The sun was setting when her and Sokka headed back to the cave. The streets were lined with paper lanterns and Y/N could hear lively music being played somewhere. It was busier than it was during the heat of the day and Sokka and Y/N were frequently bumped into from all sides, right into one another. Finally, after losing him twice in the crowd she looped her arm through his. She felt him tense up under her touch, but immediately relaxed.

“Oh, hey, what’s that?” She pointed off in the distance to a wooden board that looked like it had pictures posted all over it. She weaved them around the crowd to stand in front of it. It was a bulletin board full of advertisements, lost items, found items, and wanted posters. Her eyes ran across the assortment of them–The Blue Spirit, an Admiral named Jeong-Jeong–until her eyes landed on one in particular.

“Yeah, they put these out when we first started traveling with Aang.” Sokka poked at a yellowing poster of Aang in his airbender clothes. “Luckily they won’t be hunting for him anymore.”

“Yeah. They aren’t hunting you,” Y/N pointed at the only poster that drew her attention. The one with a similar likeness to her face. “But I think they’re hunting me now.”

Sokka peered around them to see if anyone was watching and ripped the poster down and shoved it in his pocket. “We need to tell the others.”

They only stopped running when they reached the mouth of the cave, the sun low in the sky.

“Where were you two?!” Katara scolded. “We waited for you to come back but you never did!”

“We looked around for Aang but–” Sokka started. He unfolded the poster from his pocket.

“Well did you find him?” She asked.

Sokka and Y/N shared a look. “You mean you didn’t?” Y/N fretted.

“No and Toph and I came back here when we couldn’t find anyone–”

The four of them jumped a noise outside. Y/N reached back instinctively to grab the hilt of her sword just when Aang strode in with Momo perched on his shoulder. His clothes were muddy and there was dirt on his face like he’d been chased through the woods but he was smiling. “Hey guys!”

“Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” Katara raced to pull him into a hug.

Aang sheepishly pulled off his headband. “I got invited to play with some kids after school.”

Sokka’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “After what?!”

“I enrolled in a Fire Nation school and I’m going back tomorrow.”

“Enrolled in what?!” Y/N thought Sokka was going to pass out.

“Let’s just sit down and talk about it,” Y/N suggested.

“I’m learning about all the propaganda they teach–”

Behind her, Y/N knew that Sokka was still talking, still flailing his arms around but she couldn’t hear the words he was saying because–

“Propaganda?”

Everyone froze, unsure of what to do next. Y/N could hear Toph behind her by the fire. “Oh no.”

“Um–”

Y/N wasn’t sure what to think. “No, don't even think about not telling me! What do you mean they teach propaganda at Fire Nation schools?”

---

What did Sokka, Katara, Aang and Toph think of her as they realized that these were the things that she grew up learning? That she had foolishly believed that the Air Nomads–known pacifists–had created an army big enough to destroy the Fire Nation so they had to be taken out first. That the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes, after hearing of the destruction of all the Air Temples and supposedly the Avatar, had joined together and invaded the Fire Nation. That she had believed in and supported the idea that the Fire Nation was doing the right thing, that cleansing the world of troublemakers and creating obedience and peace in the villages was ‘the only way’.

In the back of her mind, Y/N was trying to reason with herself, You knew the whole time. That’s why you left, that’s why you're trying to do good with the Avatar; to right the wrongs of your Nation. But it didn’t matter. She’d believed long enough for it to be harmful.

“Not to take away from the frankly alarming things we just learned but–” Sokka handed Aang the poster. “–we also found this when Y/N and I were in town.”

“What is it?” Toph asked.

“It’s a wanted poster for Y/N,” Aang muttered.

Katara jumped up to join him in reading it. Y/N didn’t need to see it again. She’d memorized it the first time she laid eyes on it.

And suddenly, her day was ruined. She couldn’t remember the taste of the peach she had eaten that afternoon or the feeling of the sun on her face. She couldn’t remember what the music sounded like as her and Sokka wandered out of town or what it felt like to spill her life story to someone who wanted to listen.

“Maybe I should go,” Y/N said numbly.

“What?” Katara said looking up from the poster.

“I’m putting you all in danger by being around you. Without me you’d be free to roam without the fear of being caught in the back of your minds all the time. It would be better for all of you like that!” Y/N was starting to get mad. Why couldn’t they see it? Why couldn’t they understand that this is the best option for everyone? That she was trying to save them?

“Why would you say something like that? How is that better?” Toph argued.

“Because you don’t need me here anyways? How could you want me around after hearing what Aang learned at school. Mind you, up until ten minutes ago, I believed every one of those things to be true!” Y/N stood up and paced around the cave, no longer able to be sitting still. Their campfire threw wild shadows of her form on the walls.

Y/N was beginning to feel like her outburst was due to more than just learning about Fire Nation propaganda but she couldn’t stop her mouth from moving. She stopped in front of them all for a second. “Tell me exactly what purpose do I serve on this mission?”

She took their silence for an answer. “Exactly,” Y/N growled.

Sokka stood up with her. “Not everything needs an exact purpose! You just fit with us!”

“But I don’t!” Y/N shouted. Her eyes and nose were stinging with unshed tears. Y/N rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands to keep the tears at bay for just a second longer. “I need a reason. I need a purpose. I have to have one! I don’t know how to describe this feeling. I’m just... lost. And–and I don’t even know how to explain it to you. How do I try and explain that my life has no meaning when I have no one to serve? I sit here with you guys and I’m wondering how you even wanted me to come when there was no reason for me to be here? I can’t even be your Fire Nation guide because I’ve never even seen most of the cities and apparently, I don’t even know my own history!”

Y/N looked at Katara. She blinked and twin tears traced down her cheeks. “I told you. I’m weak. I care about someone who wants me dead so badly she made me a wanted person. And all I want is to make her better so I can go home and I just can’t get past it all.”

Y/N put her head in her hands and sobbed. She felt two arms wrap around her waist and a head lay on her shoulder. Two more arms wrapped around the both of them. And pretty soon all five of them stood huddled in the cave in a group hug.

Y/N sniffled. “Why are you all comforting me like you’re my friends?”

“You are our friend,” Katara murmured into Y/N’s shoulder. “Don’t you want to be friends with us?”

Y/N whimpered. “I really do. I guess I just needed to hear you say it.”

“If it makes you feel better. I have no problem bossing you around.” Toph’s voice was muffled from the pile they were in.

Y/N smiled through her tears. “Thanks, Toph.”

---

A/N: listen, I don’t care if I made you cry, because I cried while writing that scene more than once and that’s all that matters.

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#atla #atla fics #sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka #katara #aang #toph beifong #zuko #azula #ty lee #mai #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #avatar resurgence #avatar fic #avatar renaissance

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skygirl5 · 4 years

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12 Prompts of Christmas - #3 Mittens

THREE – Mittens

Setting: Castle, Season 7

After stacking the last dish in the dishwasher, Castle squirted soap into the appropriate slot, snapped the lid closed, and then returned the soap bottle to its storage spot under the sink. Then he closed up the dishwasher, pressed the start button, and turned around to survey the counter and make everything had been put back in its proper place. Once that was confirmed he wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and hung it back on the hook mounted on the upper cabinets.

With his post-dinner routine was complete, he moved towards the hallway but then found himself slightly surprised that it was vacant. Just as he started to clean up Kate had disappeared into the bedroom to change into warmer clothes before their walk. He thought for sure she would be done before him, but yet she didn’t seem to be, which he found odd.

A few days earlier, Castle had suggested that the two of them walk around their neighborhood in the evening and enjoy all the light up Christmas displays. While his wife agreed this was a sweet idea, that evening had a wind chill in the low-twenties and she was afraid she would be too cold to enjoy it. Seeing that as a fair point, Castle looked at the weather report and found an evening that would be much warmer so they decided to reschedule. At a practically balmy thirty-four, that evening turned out to be perfect, though he understood Kate would need to wear something warmer than the long-sleeved t-shirt and calf-length yoga pants she’d been walking around the house in.

Walking into their bedroom, he spotted her sitting on the floor on her side of the bed, her head barely visible above the plastic storage containers and boxes that were stack there. A little over a month had passed since they married and she moved into the loft and thus not all of her belongings had been fully put away yet. In part this was because they were still shifting around his things, which had been taking up more than fifty percent of the space, and in another part because she said she wanted to use the move as an opportunity to purge things she didn’t want or need anymore. Castle saw no issue with either of these things causing a delay. Her clutter didn’t bother him especially since he knew he had more than his own fair share of stuff sitting around that he probably didn’t need to hang onto anymore.

“Kate? Are you ready to go?”

“Oh…sorry. Sorry I guess I just got a little bit distracted. I was looking for…and then I thought…” With a huff of breath she shook her head and then rotated her body so she was facing him. Using her hand against the mattress she pushed herself up into a standing position and sidled her way out between he boxes. “Sorry; we’re probably running late now.”

He walked forward. “There’s no time-table for our date, love; I just want to spend time with you. Besides, I just finished loading the dishwasher, so you’re not late at all.”

She nodded. “I just get frustrated every time I see all this stuff piled up. I know I need to take some more time and get though it, but there’s just so much going on—especially this time of year. You must be so annoyed with them sitting here.”

“Not in the least,” he said. When she gave him a look indicating she didn’t think he was being truthful, he continued with, “I’m serious. Every time I see those boxes I’m reminded that you actually live here full time now because you’re my wife—and what could be better about that?”

Castle didn’t care how many reminders he had that Kate was his wife; the more the better! From her stack of boxes (which he knew would ultimately go away) to their wedding rings to the Mr. & Mrs. frame Alexis got him for his desk that held their wedding photo. He loved his wife. He loved that they were married. Every moment of their life together was a joy, so why wouldn’t he want more reminders.

Smiling, Kate leaned in to kiss him softly and said, “You’re very sweet.”

“I know.”

“But look what I found!” She jogged the five steps back to the box pile and pulled a pile of red fabric from the top of one box. Hurrying back to him, she held out the items for him to see.

Castle stared down at them curiously as the wheels of his brain began to turn. “Mittens…I know these. Did I give you these?”

“Yep! The first year we worked together you gave me these for Christmas.”

Rick nodded, remembering the event. They still had a rather tumultuous relationship back then, though it was steadily improving. He had been worried that giving her too much of a Christmas gift for some reason might irritate her, so he went with the very subtle yet practical red mittens and presented them to her with his gratitude for her allowing him to shadow her. “Ah, yes back when you couldn’t stand me.”

She let out a breathy laugh. “I wouldn’t stay that. You…annoyed me at times for sure but giving me these mittens was a very sweet thing to do. I wore them that year, then thought I lost them, but as it turns out they just got shoved back in my closet behind some old shoe boxes. I only found them when I fully emptied my closet to move. So now I can wear them again.”

As she slid them on her hands a rather peculiar expression crossed her face, leading him to ask, “What?”

Shaking her head, she smiled down at her hands. “Oh, nothing…I was just thinking: if the last time I had these on someone told me I’d marry the man who gave them to me, my head might have exploded. Not in a bad way just…back then I didn’t understand the way you made me feel so it probably came out as anger and annoyance more than it should have. I was just…afraid of facing something that could be real because that meant opening myself up in a way I never had before. But I’m so glad I did.”

His heart swelling with love for her for the thousandth time, he leaned down and kissed her gently. “Me too. Now are you ready to go on our walk?”

She slid her mitten-covered hand in his and said, “Yeah, let’s go.”

#castle #caskett #castle fanfiction #12PromptsofChristmas #my fic: 12 Prompts of Christmas

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exactlydeafeningdeer · 3 years

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The Best Drinking Glasses

When it comes to glassware, the sexier vessels — a coupe, a flute, a wineglass — seem to get all the glory. But a simple glass cup (which can be just as appropriate for juice, wine, iced coffee, or yes, a G&T) gets used more than any of those options — and is just as worthy of praise. Whether you’re in the market for a basic, stackable matching set or for something bolder to spruce up your dinner table, the choices are many. To help you in your search, we asked some of our favorite restaurant, beverage, and interior-design experts how they take their H2O (and more). Below, our 19 panelists recommend their favorite water glasses, including a few restaurant-grade styles sold in bulk (that you may want to go in on with a friend or two since you probably won’t need all 72). To make it easier to find what you’re looking for, we’ve categorized their picks by style and size.

Duralex’s Picardie glasses are a favorite among our panelists. It’s easy to see why: They are available in assorted sizes, so you’ll always have the right one at hand if someone wants water, juice, or a stiffer drink. More important, as Tracie Battle, a senior designer at online interior-design service Havenly, says, their “classic look will never go out of style.” She explains that they are made of thicker tempered glass, which “offers more durability and a more expensive look.” Hudson Wilder founder Conway Liao and author (and former Lucky Peach executive editor) Rachel Khong also swear by these glasses, with Khong saying that her set is “still going strong after many many years.” This 18-piece set includes three sizes and six glasses in each size.

Battle also recommends Libbey’s Polaris glasses for their “super-unique shape,” which has a rounded, weighted base that feels hefty while still being sleek. This set comes with eight drinking glasses and eight smaller rocks glasses, offering the best “bang for your buck, at just over $2 per glass,” she says. They’re BPA-free and dishwasher-safe, too.

This set of Dailyware Bodega glasses from Bormiolo Rocco — which includes eight shorter double wall insulated mug and eight taller highball glasses — is interior designer Katrina Hernandez’s choice. She uses the glasses in both her house in the country and her Brooklyn apartment. “They’re perfect for water or a cocktail. It’s a set of two sizes, but both are relatively shorter and more modern,” she says. Hernandez adds that they’re thin, but not “scary thin where you feel they could break in your hand at any moment.” She also appreciates the rounded edge of the lip as well. The Bodega is also a favorite style of Julie Mulligan, the owner and designer of cocktail lounge and restaurant Lot 15, because it’s “versatile and low maintenance but still chic.” She says that it’s “great for all kinds of home drinking and serving” and can even be used for displaying flowers. “They have a great smooth lip to drink from and the price is just right,” she adds.

If cabinet space is limited, shorter glasses may be the way to go. Both Liao and Amanda Spina, the general manager of Williamsburg’s Four Horsemen restaurant and Nightmoves bar, swear by these shorter, stackable glasses by Japanese company Toyo-Sasaki. “I always want precious, delicate, thin baking glassware at the restaurant, but it’s got to be strong enough to fall onto a rubber mat and not break,” says Spina. “And it must be stackable.” These glasses, which are each about four-inches high, tick all those boxes. “They’re a little more unique and contemporary than the ubiquitous Duralex,” she adds, “but just as practical.” Liao agrees, noting their stackable design makes these “perfect for New York apartments.”

Amazon sells Bormioli Rocco’s 12-ounce Bodega tumbler — which is roughly the same height as the Bodega double old-fashioned glass in the brand’s assorted set above — on its own in a 12-pack.

The CB2 Marta glass has a similar feel as the smaller Bodega glasses above, and comes recommended by Athena Calderone, the founder of lifestyle blog Eye Swoon. She likes that they have “clean, straight lines” and are “made of ultra-thin glass.” She also says that “the price is deceiving — they look and feel far more expensive than they really are,” adding that they’re “definitely a crazy-good bang for your buck.” Not to mention:“They look as good sitting around on the table as they do on open shelving, which is helpful because that’s what I have at home,” Calderone says. Interior and event designer Ken Fulk is also a fan.

Mullligan’s go-to “for something clean and classic,” are these tumblers from Duralex. She likes that these glasses are stackable, but more importantly, that “they’ve withstood the test of time in my home, which is no easy feat.” Made in France of tempered glass, they’re also dishwasher-, microwave-, and freezer-safe.

According to Mulligan, Libbey is “an industry standard for style and wearability in the design world.” The petite Esquire side glass water bottle is one of her all-time favorites, and she says that they’re great for the home but also in a restaurant setting. The thin glass, slightly curved shape, and weighted base make it a little more interesting than your standard, straight-sided water glass. Intended for the service industry, these glasses come in a case of 72, which is more than an average household will ever need. But if these appeal to you, consider splitting a case with a family member or friend (or several family members or friends). The cost-per-glass comes out to just a tad over a dollar, which honestly can’t be beat.

Instead of a glass with straight sides, maybe you’d prefer one that has a tapered V-shape. Paul Malvone, a co-founder of Boston Burger Company, says the style is better for stacking. “At the restaurant, we prefer a 9-ounce old fashioned Endeavor rocks glass,” he says. “They’re a little better-looking than a traditional drinking glass, and are versatile enough for water or a soft drink, or even a hard beverage.”

According to Spina, these roughly five-inch goblets “are billed as ‘wineglasses,’ but they’re really not the best for crystal wine glass cup because of their open shape.” What that shape is great for, though, is good-old H2O. “They happen to be perfect for water with lemon.” The shape and the fact that they’re made in Italy make them even more distinguished. (Pictured as a set of four, the price shown is for one glass.)

Shelley Kleyn Armistead, a partner at Gjelina Group who is in charge of the interior design and tableware at all of its restaurants, is a fan of these simple Riedel water glasses. “I love the silhouette,” she says. “At the restaurants, we actually use them for wine because there’s something about them that feels friendly and approachable, a contrast to how wine is so often served.” Of course, they also work beautifully for water. Not too big and not too small, “they feel like glasses that should be used for daily enjoyment,” as Armistead puts it.

Libbey’s highball Impressions glasses hold more fluid than the brand’s shorter Esquire glasses in the section above, but they have a similar curved look and come in a more reasonable quantity (a set of four as opposed to a case of 72). They’re recommended by Decorist interior designer Katy Byrne, who says they’re her top pick for an everyday glass water bottle. ��It’s the perfect weight with an elegant detail that not only looks nice but provides the perfect grip spot,” she tells us.

“At home, I use these 12-ounce Collins glasses, which are tall and a handsome vessel for cocktails” says Nick Rancone, the owner of the Twin Cities–based Twist Davis Group of restaurants. While they’re nice enough for serving drinks like a Tom Collins, gin fizz, or even a mojito, Rancone likes these because “they’re multipurpose enough to use for just plain water, too. I like that it can do double or triple duty.”

These highballs from Luigi Bormiolo come recommended by Battle: “This set is minimal in style and works well for several different drinks, whether a simple glass of water or a mint mojito,” she says. Battle adds that they’re also a great choice if you have kids: “They are a more durable option without having to sacrifice the look of glass.”

If you’re looking for something even more durable, Battle says “this is an almost identical alternate to the Luigi Bormiolo Classico glass, but is made of an acrylic that is BPA, Phthalate, lead and latex free.” They’re another great option “if you want the look of glass but don’t want to run the risk of them shattering,” she adds. They’re also available in a smaller “double old fashioned” style and in a turquoise, which she thinks is “great for summer.”

This stackable highball glass is a favorite of Employees Only co-owner Igor Hadzismajlovic for its convenience. “We use the 9-ounce highball glass by Libbey at home, which is stackable, and is a must for a tiny New York apartment,” he says. “It’s actually the same glass we use at Employees Only, too. They’re thick enough to eliminate breakage, which is especially important for a glass that is most frequently used.”

Sustainable-living expert Danny Seo, the editor-in-chief of Naturally, Danny Seo magazine, loves these glasses that are made from 100-percent post-consumer recycled glass — or “the stuff you toss out in your recycling bin,” as he puts it. Seo adds that “the organic texture and shape lends well to pairing them with clean modern dinnerware.” And we think the slightly bulbous silhouette is a little more interesting than that of your standard highballs.

Anna Polonsky, founder of the food-focused strategy-and-design consultancy Polonsky & Friends, loves to set a dinner table with these drinking glasses. “Hudson Wilder really creates timeless tableware,” she says. “They stand out without being too much. The base makes them special, but they’re also hardy enough not to feel too precious.” She owns a set in amber, which you’ll have to wait till September to get. Or snag these with a just as beautiful smoke-color base now.

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realyouearthing01 · 3 years

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The benefits and advantages of Earthing / Grounding for animals/pets – Grounding to the Earth

As you will discover in this post, pets also benefit from Earthing / Grounding. So here is the testimony of different people who tell their experience with their animals and Earthing / Grounding, the connection to the earth.

When indoors, pets sense something familiar and beneficial when they come in contact with an Earthing mat or other grounding product. They are definitely drawn to Earthing. Although they can’t articulate what they feel, their actions and responses speak louder than words, as these accounts clearly indicate:. Here is a sampling of feedback:

Extending Quality and Quantity of Life

The second edition of the Earthing book (2014) included a report from Sandra Wong, a musician in Boulder, Colorado, about how Earthing was helping her aged Grand Pyrenees dog, “Raffie.”

In 2013, she had first told us that “Raffie,” then 11, was suffering from severe, painful arthritis and multiple structural issues. She had exhausted conventional options, including medication that just made him sick to his stomach. She was reluctantly considering putting him down. Then a friend suggested Earthing and she obtained an Earthing throw for the dog. The results, she said, were striking. “Raffie” began resting and sleeping grounded. His energy amazingly returned, as did his mobility and zest for life.

In April 2014, the dog passed. “He made it to a miraculous 12 years of age, almost unheard of for his breed,” Sandra told us. “Grounding gave him an entire extra year of life and with quality that I didn’t think was possible.”

In early 2015, she told us she has helped other animals with Earthing. “The week before ‘Raffie’ passed, ‘Mosey,’ went into a steep downward spiral and was diagnosed with the lumbosacral disease, among other things. She’s another one of my Pyrenees. Her back legs were going out much of the time. She had full urinary and fecal incontinence. The vets didn’t have much to offer but after several months of using homeopathic remedies and encouraging her to spend more time on the Earthing throw, she has made a rather miraculous turnaround. She has been able to walk to and from the backyard without assistance. Her urinary incontinence and 99 percent of all accidents have stopped in the last three months. ‘Mosey’ is now 13 years old and a few months, and although fragile, she’s going stronger than I could have imagined possible with the only changes being nerve tonic (homeopathic), Traumeel (homeopathic), and her Earthing throw.”

Sandra continued: “A friend of mine has a rescue black Lab/chow mix with severe hip dysplasia. The old dog took a turn for the worse with the coming of colder weather. The pain meds he was prescribed left him lethargic, yelping, and disoriented. My friend put him on similar homeopathic as ‘Mosey’ and installed an Earthing throw, as I had done, in the dog’s bed. Now, two months later, it’s as if the dog was two years younger. He’s clear-eyed, connected, happy, and exhibited significantly less pain.

“Earthing also helped my mother’s dog, my grandmother’s dog, and my other Pyrenees, ‘Serafina.’”

In 2017, we heard from Sandra again. Both “Mosey” (14 ½) and “Serafina” (13 ½) had died the year before, 18 days apart. “However, both of them had a good quality of life up until the very end, despite their advanced age, with the help of the Earthing throw,” she said. “’ Serafina’ had a stroke shortly after ‘Mosey’ passed. I think she missed her sister.

“All this is to say, in my experience, Earthing is incredibly helpful to animals, including older ones with sensitive systems who reactive negatively to strong medications.”

Less Shedding

From Yavor Kresic in Ottawa: “My Siamese ‘Alexander’ loves going on the mat. I’ve noticed that he hardly sheds now. He’s an older cat and rarely goes out.”

More Comfort, Less Itching

From Ambien Hay of Vero Beach, Florida: “‘Jackson,’ my Jack Russell, loved his Earthing mat. It relieved his arthritis and pain due to Lyme disease during the last years of his life. He died at 16. After sleeping on it all night, he clearly felt more comfortable in the morning, as he pranced outside and had his breakfast.

“‘Sailor,’ my 12-year-old Westie, heads for his Earthing mat any chance he gets! He has been Earthing for more than eight years and is healthy and happy. The mat helped relieve his skin allergies and itchiness. He hogs my Earthing mat under the computer desk, his favorite place to snooze.

“All creatures large and small love to be connected to Mother Earth!”

In 2012, Karen Kolczak from Phoenix told us she obtained a mat for her cat after experiencing the benefits of Earthing herself. She said: ��My old cat doesn’t get outside much anymore, but now she is going up and down the stairs much more frequently and curls up to me purring on the bed as if to say ‘thanks mom.’”

In early 2015, Karen reported that her cat had passed away and that she brought a new cat into the house who “loves the mat as well.”

Togetherness

New Hampshire researcher James Oschman sent this picture (below) from a doctor friend who commented: “Here are my daughter’s three cats. Ordinarily, they stake out separate rooms for their morning naps, but this is what they’ve been doing since I came to visit and installed an Earthing sheet on the guest bed.”

More Togetherness

From Linda Olk in Winston-Salem: “I have five dogs and a cat. And most of them, along with me, have been Earthing since 2013. The dogs get their indoor ‘dosing’ at night like I do, and sleep on the Earthing sheet I put over the sofa. Sometimes all of them pile on at one time. From time to time, some of them jump into my bed and onto the Earthing sheet. I have to shoo them off.

“The animals have all been in good health. After I added the Earthing sheet, they absolutely became calmer. Not that they had been rowdy or unruly, but they carried a certain agitation. That changed a lot.

“When the cat developed an infection from a bite, I noticed he spent more time than usual stretched full out on the Earthing mat I placed in the living room under my desk. The cat usually stays outside, right on the ground, under a tree, except when it’s very cold. Then I set the mat out and typically he gravitates to it.

“After I bought an Earthing yoga mat for myself, the dogs, and even the cat, want to lay on it. I sometimes have to shove them off when it comes time to do my exercise.”

It Works in Finland, too

Sisko Pynnonen from Kangasniemi says her dog usually sleeps on the floor during the winter and outside on the ground when the weather is warmer. “After I put an Earthing sheet on my bed, ‘Tahvo’ started to climb up into the bed in order to be able to sleep on the sheet. One night he even brought a bone into the bed. He seems to sigh with relief when he sleeps on the sheet…and sleeps there all night!”

Satu Laitinen, from Siilinjarvi, says her cats love the Earthing plush pad and compete to use it.

Maine Cats Know When They Need Mother Earth

From JJ, in Maine: “My two indoor cats don’t seem unusually drawn to Earthing sheets or their grounded pet beds when they’re healthy. However, when my cat Cleo had an inflamed paw pad, we noticed her resting on my daughter’s Earthing sheet in an unusual manner, with her arm stretched straight out in front of her, the sore paw pad placed gingerly on the grounded sheet.

“My other cat, ‘Pixie’ is an obsessive washer. Since she’s been sleeping grounded (two years), her fur has grown back on her sides and some on her tummy. Grounding seems to relax her and reduce the hyperexcitability of her condition.”

Don’t Get Crushed!

From Deborah Ebbers, Suttons Bay, Michigan: “I have a story concerning my earthing journey, started one and a half months ago. I bought the earthing mat for my bed and the results have been very positive; deep sleep, arthritic pain reduction, calm energy… and now my dog (who sleeps with me) has decided that since I’m earthed that it is perfectly natural for her to sleep on top of me……. there’s one little problem…she’s a Great Dane. Beatrix is 116 pounds!”

They Hog the Bed!

From Tina Morin, a German Shepherd breeder in North Bay, Ontario: “I have 7 dogs and they all try to get a piece of the mat on the floor lol I have a sheet on my bed and sometimes I catch them up on there too. They all sleep on it or on my bed lol as I have a grounding sheet there. They sure gravitate to grounding.”

Golden Retriever in Healing High Gear

Karen Poizin of Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, reported that “Lance,” her Golden Retriever, had surgery to remove a large lipoma in his armpit in December of 2013. He slept on a pet mat during his recovery and, according to the veterinarian, “he healed quickly.”

“Juniper the Rat” − Life after a Stroke

Diane Higgins, of Toronto, is an ardent animal rescuer. “From fish to horses,” she says, and including rats. In 2015, she communicated to us about “Juniper,” her very senior and nearly three-year-old hooded female pet rat. The rodent had had a stroke, a fairly common affliction among elderly rats, and often fatal.

“I’ve become all too familiar with the symptoms but this time I had a new weapon and so I decided to use one of the Earthing bands,” Diane recounted. “Rats, no matter how well we feed and take care of them, don’t live very long, but if this could improve the quality of her life, I was all for it. Often there’s nothing you can do to help them in these situations, the time between a stroke and their unfortunate demise is swift.

“’ Juniper’ is one tough little gal. She had difficulty getting around so I decided to try the band on her and within twenty minutes she was able to raise her head. Within an hour she was able to use her legs again. After a few hours, she exhibited more mobility and was able to lift her head.

“I put her in a safe, warm, and comfortable location with the band attached (she had wiggled out of it once, but I got her back into it) and she settled in and let the band do its thing.

“I got the shock of my life the next morning. ‘Juniper’ had climbed onto the roof of her mouse house ALL BY HERSELF!! She climbed up and ate breakfast! She gave me a bit of trouble getting her into the band this morning but I got her in. She has MUCH better mobility and is much improved.

“She does the rat equivalent of purring (bruxing) when she is in the band. This can also occur when a rat is upset, but she seems to be a happy little rat when she does this.

“On the third day, she was having less problem holding her food, all the red stuff around her eyes is gone. That’s porphyrin, a secretion indicative of stress, sickness, or poor diet. Her eyes look clear and her coat feels silky.”

“On day five, she continued doing well. She has made daily progress. The old girl is now able to get all the way up to the third tier of the cage. She seems to recognize her limitations with ‘down.’ She actually signals me when she wants to come down and I either pick her up and place her on the bottom of the cage or I gently ‘escort’ her with my hand and assist her.

“She has never eaten commercial pet food. She gets filtered water, organic fruits, vegetables, nuts, and seeds, as well as avocadoes, bananas, mangoes, grapes, corn on the cob, carrot, spinach leaves, kale, and chaff from my juicing as well.

“Everything has worked in harmony. TLC without Earthing or Earthing without TLC would not have produced these results. When I first started this therapy with her, I was thinking she might not last another day. But she is doing so well and has been a great surprise.”

A week later Diane reported: “She is doing amazing!! She was able to fend off her younger companion ‘Thea,’ when I gave her one of her favorite treats, a piece of Pita bread. ‘Thea’ does NOT share. ‘Juniper’ is now able to drink out of the water bottle on the second cage level now. Her front paws are no longer tensed up and she is able to wash like she used to. She appears very calm and does that bruxing thing, which is so cute and endearing. OMG, she is so smart!”

“Juniper” lived actively for more than a month after her stroke, and then died peacefully. “I hadn’t expected her really to live another day after her stroke,” reported Diane. “She was a real trooper.”

Sweet Dreams

“I actually had to buy myself a second Earthing mat, because the minute I put my mat on the floor to put my feet on while watching TV, my Golden Retriever immediately would make a beeline for it. He then falls into a wonderfully deep sleep with lots of squirrel chasing dreams. For me, this disproves the Earthing doubters who explain Earthing benefits as a placebo effect. Both my dog and I know that earthing REALLY works!”

For more information, please visit https://realyouearthing.com/

#Earthing / Groundingn #animals #health #home & lifestyle #cat dog

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iliketowrite1996 · 4 years

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Lunch Buddies

Part 1:https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/614617294578089984/his-best-girl

Part 2: https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/614969499334197248/meet-the-music-teacher

TRIGGER WARNINGS AND THEMES- abandoning child, mentioned of dead spouse, moving and starting over, single parenthood

‘’Jasmine. What on earth are you doing?’’

The ten year old freezes in her spot at the sound of Steve’s voice, before looking up at her dad with wide, brown eyes.

‘’Um… I am making you lunch,’’ she responds, slapping yet another slice of bread on top of the sandwich that she is constructing.

‘’Alright, Jasmine. What did you do?’’

‘’I did nothing!,’’ she insists, stepping over to the cabinet and getting out some tupperware and a top.

‘’I guess this wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you got your math test back yesterday, hm?’’

Jasmine looks at Steve with wide eyes before sighing, looking to the floor, and trudging over to her book bag. She returns with her math paper… a giant red ‘’F’’ in the top, right by her name.

‘’Jasmine, come on now,’’ Steve sighs, shaking his head slightly as Jasmine constitutes stare at the floor, ‘’What happened?’’

‘’I studied, daddy,’’ she looks up at Steve, big, brown eyes filling with tears, ‘’Honest, I did! But when it was time for the test, I got so confused.’’

‘’Have you asked Mr. Isaac to help you?’’

‘’Yes,’’ she wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, ‘’But I don’t get it the way that he explains it, either. Deshaw tried to help me and Alexandria tried to help me, but it’s still so confusing.’’

‘’Okay, don’t cry, come here,’’ Steve says, allowing Jasmine to lay her head on his shoulder like she used to do when she was little, ‘’Don’t cry. Everyone makes mistakes.’’

‘’But I KEEP failing!,’’ she eventually wails, and Steve pulls her in for a hug, smoothing her curls down as he does so.

‘’Shh. Sweetheart, calm down. WhenI was your age, I didn’t understand science, and I had trouble with social studies. Your grandma had to get me a tutor. And, you know what? That’s exactly what we are going to do. I’m going to ask Tony if his intern will tutor you.’’

‘’Peter,’’ Jasmine lifts her head up and looks at Steve, continuing to wipe her tears, ‘’From church?’’

‘’Yes, your crush,’’ Steve teases to which Jasmine giggles.

‘’Okay. Do you think that he can help me pass math?’’

‘’I’m sure that if he can’t, he knows someone that will. So, what do you say, kiddo? Ready to get yourself a tutor?’’

‘’You bet,’’ she nods, looking at his lunch, then the time on the clock, ‘’Daddy, we have to get to school! I want to give my music teacher her bracelet that I made her!’’

‘’You’re right. Grab your boots and let’s hit it.’’

September has given way to fall, and Steve and Jasmine crunch the leaves under their feet as they make their way to the school building. Steve has to drag Jasmine along a bit, seeing as they got in late from church last night. But she perks up when he brings up her music teacher again.

‘Daddy, she is so nice! Yesterday, we got to makeup songs about school supplies,’’Jasmine reveals, sticking her arm out so that her dad so that he can guide her across the street through the crowds of people coming and going.

When the duo makes it to the school, they share their customary high-five before going their separate ways.

‘’Good morning, Mr. Rogers,’’ you smile as you walk past him to your classroom.

‘’Good morning. And call me Steve,’’ he beams at your retreating form, ‘’I assume I’ll be seeing you today?’’

‘’Actually, we should be all good,’’ you turn around to face him as he comes closer, on the way to his class, ‘’Unless you just like seeing me.’’

‘’I-I, um, you know-,’’ Steve begins to sputter, causing you to giggle a bit.

‘’Steve, relax. I’m kidding. But I do thank you for being so kind to me these first few weeks. I’ll see you later,’’ you turn around, taking your key to unlock your classroom.

And Steve tries to ignore the slight pang of disappointment that accompanies that statement.

‘’Thank you so much for your help, Olivia,’’ Steve smiles as he high-fives the five-year-old, who beams in response.

‘’Thank you, Mr. Rogers,’’ she nearly whispers, following her kindergarten class into the hallway and back to there room

No sooner than the students leave is Steve interrupted while organizing for the next class to come in.

‘’Mr. Rogers.’’

Steve looks up from where he is placing materials on the tables in preparation for his next art class to see you at the door, dressed in a blouse and professional bottoms…

With a giant coffee stain on your shirt.

‘’Woah, what happened,’’ he questions as you enter, futility scrubbing at the stain with a damp paper towel.

‘’Fourth grader running down the hallway. Luckily, it’s ice coffee,’’ you huff, tossing the paper towel away, ‘’Um, I’m here because Jasmine said that you had a pen to get stains out. I was if I could borrow it?’’

‘’You know,’’ Steve chuckles, walking over to his desk to retrieve it for you, ‘’We’ve got to stop coming to each other when we need things only.’’

Since your arrival three weeks ago, you and Steve stop by each other's rooms frequently. After all, you’re right down the hall from each other.

He needed a stapler, you needed a case of pencils and couldn’t find the janitor. Mr. Smith. He needed to know what time the assembly started, and you needed help with the copy room printer that always jammed and he didn't mind, did he?

‘’Thanks,’’ you sigh in relief, scrubbing at the stain, ‘’I sense you’re prone to messes, too?’’

‘’Not me. Jazzy,’’ he shakes his head fondly, ‘’She’s always moving, always rushing. She gets that from me, but her mom always used to spill on herself, too.’’

‘’I see,’’ you smile gently, pressing the cap back onto the pen before giving it to Steve, ‘’Thank you, Mr. Rogers.’’

‘’Please, call me Steve. We’re cowowrkers,’’ he reminds you, and it takes everything you have in you to bite back the smile that is beginning to form on your lips.

Okay, okay.He’s cute. But you’re his co-worker, you just got here, and you’ve got a lot on your proverbial plate already.

‘’Oh, um, listen. I’d packed Jasmine some lasagna that I made last night, but DeShawn’s mother packed her lunch today. So, if you want, since we have the same planning period…’’

‘’I’d love to. We can eat in my class, okay?’’

‘’Okay,’’ Steve nods, shoving his hands in his pocket.

‘’I’ll see you at 12:30,’’ you agree, exiting his classroom and heading back to your own to prepare for your first graders from Ms. Wilson’s class.

Just in time to miss Steve’s fist pump.

And he doesn’t see you do the same thing in the hallway.

When you first moved to New York from Texas, it was for a fresh start. You’d parked your car, and moved in with your aunt and your uncle. Your uncle is the pastor at a local church, and he was more than happy to let you move into their house in New Jersey with them until you could get your bearings.

and he’d heard about the opening for the music teacher as a way for you to more easily get on your feet. In fact, you have a meeting with a landlord tomorrow to look at a one-bedroom apartment a few blocks from the school.

You’ve been taking time getting used to your new surroundings. Every day, you take a walk right before work, taking in your surroundings and casually absorbing people. On the weekends, you find one new restaurant to try with your ‘’restaurant buddy’’. After church, you say hi to one new person. At work, you make it a point to say hi to one new co-worker each day.

For a while, though,you seem to be making it a point to find any reason to talk to one Steve Rogers.

Steve is one hundred percent handsome, and very kind. He always has a smile on his face, he is so good with the students, and you can see how much he loves his daughter.

‘’Hi, mommy!’’

You’re broken out of your thoughts by a young kindergartner who is waving at you as she clutches a hall pass.

‘’Hey, honey, why aren’t you in class?’’

‘’Teddy got sick in our class bathroom and I’m going to the big kids’ bathroom,’’ she beams, feeling proud of herself.

‘’Oooh, that’s a big step! Now make sure you go and get right back to class, baby. Mommy’s gotta go get ready for ehr new class. And you go with Ms. Potts after school, I’ll pick you up from her classroom at 4:40, alright?’’

‘’Alright, mommy,’’she nods dutifully before trekking off up the hallway to the bathroom.

Your five-year-old daughter is your first, and only child. She started kindergarten here when you moved, and it’s taking a while, but she’s slowly coming out of her shell.

When your daughter was born, you had just finished college with a degree in teaching. Though her arrival was about five years ahead of your timeline, you were ecstatic. You’ve always wanted to be a mom, and this journey just began earlier than you expected. Her dad, your then-boyfriend, Darryl, was less than thrilled at the prospect of a new baby, but he agreed to be there.

That is, until he wasn’t. One day, the texts stopped being returned, the calls went unanswered, and he didn't drop by. A quick visit to his apartment confirmed your fear- only three months after your daughter’s birth, and he had decided that this was not for him. No conversation, no warning, nothing.

And had you not had your faith, your church family, and family and friends, you’re not exactly sure where you would be. The combined forces have helped you get through your first year of teaching, your move, apartment, hunting, and most importantly, raising your beautiful baby girl.

Your next class is milling in now, so you put on your best smile and greet the students, earning high-fives and hugs from the class of second graders.

And so begins another class.

‘’Hey, lunch buddy,’’ Steve appears at your doorway, right on time.

‘’Hey,’’ you smile at him, nodding for him to enter.

‘’I warmed it up for you, hope that’s okay,’’ he speaks, placing your lunch on your desk and pulling up a chair for you as you pull two bottles of water from your bag.

‘’Thanks for sharing with me,’’ you speak up, ‘’Otherwise it would have been peanut butter and jelly again.’’

‘’Hey, nothing wrong with a classic,’’ he grins at you, ‘’I forgot to tell you, and I hope I’m not overstepping… you look really nice today.’’

You’d woken up a little earlier today, so you took care with your hair, slicking it back into a bun and taking the time to gel down your edges. Your favorite, red jumpsuit is on, and you’ve got the red ballet flats to match.

‘’Thank you, Steve,’’ you return the gesture,completing his outfit.

You enjoy your lunch with Steve. The teacher lounge is great and everything, but you like quiet conversation during your lunch. So it’s nice to spend time with your teacher neighbor, and relax before your last two classes of the day, and glee club practice.

‘’So, how long have you been teaching here,’’ you ask after praying over your food, silently reveling in the taste of the pasta that he’s given you.

‘’About ten years. I was hired here the year before Jazzy was born. This is, uh, actually where I met her mom,’’ he reveals, a look that you don’t quite understand crossing his face before he shakes it off, ‘’How long have you been a teacher?’’

‘’Five years ago, I started out in Texas as a grade-school special education teacher. I’m dual-licensed,’’ you move back in your chair, looking out the window, ‘’It’s quite different going from having a classroom full of students that you’re with all day to only seeing students a few times a week for 45 minutes.’’

‘’I imagine it’s also really difficult to come here from Texas. Did you have any family?’’

‘’Yeah, I moved in with my aunt and uncle. They’ve been a great help, but I think I ‘m ready to head out on my own. With their help, of course,’’ you amend, tapping your fingers against the desk, ‘’I don’t know. I just like the feeling of being independent.’’

‘’Well, you still seem pretty independent to me. But, you know, if you'd find a place, you’ve got two people that’ll help you move in. You’re Jasmine’s favorite teacher. She talks about you non-stop at home.’’

‘’She’s wonderful,’’ you shake your head, laughing fondly, ‘’And very headstrong.’’

‘’Always has been,’’ he chuckles, ‘’Just like her mother.’’

Before you can respond to that, they’re calling you over the PA system, and lunch is cut short. Steve follows you out, allowing you to lock your class door and head to the office.

And giving you a minute to feel just a tad bit sour on missing the rest of your not-a-date-lunch-date with Steve.

After the glee club picks up, you’re exhausted. Thank goodness you’re aunt is making dinner tonight, because you plan on crawling straight into bed after dinner.

‘’Mommy!,’’ your daughter screams,rushing forward and leaping into your arms.

‘’Gey, you know we don’t get that loud in the school building. But I’m happy to see you,’’ you smooth down her flyaway curls, ‘’Girl, what did you do to your hair?’’

‘’We were discussing static electricity,’’ Pepper informs you, walking over holding a first grader and a kindergartener's hands. ‘’She was absolutely lovely and so well-behaved. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?’’

‘’Okay,’’ you and your daughter nod before you take her to the parking lot, ready to head home.

‘’Mommy, are we having pizza for dinner again?’’

‘’No, we’re having whatever Auntie is making. And you’re going to be polite, even if you don’t like it. Understood?’’

‘’Yes, momma,’’ she nods, to unlock the car and place her in her booster seat before heading around to the driver’s side.

Your night time routine is, somehow, a bit more chaotic than your morning routine. Baby girls are always tired from school, your aunt is exasperated after dealing with high school students all day, your uncle is tired from whatever volunteer or service he has done that day, and you’re just tired. But you’ve got to feed your daughter, bathe her, do her hair, help with her homework, and send her off to sleep before working on your own planning.

‘’So, honey,’’ your aunt tells you as you send the resident kindergartner to the bathroom to wash her hands, ‘’I’ve got this great guy at church I’d like to set you up with.’’

‘’That’s gonna be a no from me,’’ you sneak a cucumber from the salad your uncle is making, causing him to playfully glare at you.

‘’Leave that girl alone,’’ your uncle jests.

‘’She’s a smart, lovely, beautiful young woman and he’s a good man!,’’ your aunt defends.

‘’I don’t have time for dating! We just got here, I need to put down roots first. Besides… I’m not even sure that I want to be dating right now.’’

In some ways you’re still reeling from your relationship with Darryl. And you’ve been on dates, but nothing serious.

‘’Oooh, have you got sights set on someone at work,’’ your aunt smirks, earning a groan from you, which she laughs heartily at, ‘’You do!’’

‘’My sights are not set on him, but he is attractive. He’s with someone, though, so… there that goes.’’

‘’And here goes your daughter, so pipe down,’’ your uncle whispers, knowing you hate discussing dating in front of her.

Soon, dinner is served and you're grateful to put the issue to bed.

When it’s time to tuck your daughter, she’s smiling at you as she strokes the curls of your hair.

‘’Your hair is pretty, mommy.’’

‘’Thank you, sweetheart. Your hair is pretty, too,’’ you respond, taking her hand and kissing it, ‘’Time for bed, ladybug.’’

‘’Okay. Good night, mommy.’’

‘’Good night, Olivia. Mommy loves you,’’ you speak.

Then, it’s time for you to head in for the night, leaving all thoughts of blind dates, school, work and Steve Rogers behind before drifting off to sleep.

DISCLAIMER- I own no rights to any Marvel characters, places, etc.

@ashanti-notthesinger @destinio1 @afraiddreamingandloving @starsshines-blog @airis-paris14 @syreanne @chaneajoyyy @90sinspiredgirl @shemiahsmelanin @zillmonger @skysynclair19 @marvelpotterlove @constantlycravingtheunknown @imaginewhoever @wakanda-inspired @pocmarvelworks @theunsweetenedtruth @dreampovx @adrioola21 @supremethunda @thisiskayesworld @mcusocialimagines @priya212 @kumkaniudaku @airis-paris14 @alexundefined @fonville-designs @dramaqueenamby @mellowjellow6 @oceanscorazon @nerd-lovely @fonville-designs @akimi-youngblood @yoyolovesbucky @fd-writes

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #black reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfic #black reader insert #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers x reader imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x black!reader #single dad steve rogers #singledad!steverogers

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Not Your (soul)Mate {10/15}

Killian Jones doesn’t like the idea of soulmates. He sees how happy his friends are with theirs, but he still doesn’t like the idea, not when he’s found love and lost it time and time again only to still not know his sign. He has no markings on his skin, no voices in his head, but then one day he meets Emma Swan and everything changes. Because, well, he may not have ink on his skin to tell him who to love, but the very first time that he hears Emma’s voice he knows that she’s the one for him. Then again, that could simply be his desire talking. After all, for every word she speaks, he becomes aroused.

It’s not the worst thing in the world to be incredibly attracted to a beautiful woman, but things aren’t that simple when she doesn’t have any interest in being his soulmate.

He’s screwed. And not in the good way.

Rating: Mature

A/n: Will my posting schedule ever make sense? Probably not. Anyways, thanks for reading, my pals! You guys are the best, and I love love love you all for loving this story and these two crazy people💜

Thank you to @captainsjedi for her love and support and artwork!

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @initiala @snowbellewells @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @emmas-storybook @searchingwardrobes @spartanguard @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @xellewoods @thejollyroger-writer @galaxyzxstark @cssns

-/-

No part of her understands why their cable bill is mailed to her. They’re a cable company. They provide TV and internet and yet they’ve never heard of paperless online billing. It’s ridiculous. And yet the minute she’s late with her payment she gets an increasingly nasty series of emails that shows they obviously know how to use the internet. And since Storybrooke Cable is the only company that provides internet in a sixty-mile radius, it’s not like they don’t have the funds to set up a website. Hell, she’ll take a class and learn how to program the website for them if she has to.

Well, probably not. That’s all a little dramatic, but she really hates having to go down to the mailboxes in the basement to get her mail so that she can go upstairs and write a check and buy a stamp to mail the payment in. It’s not the biggest deal in the world, but she hates it.

She obviously would not have lasted in a world without internet.

The old stairs creak beneath her, a sound that she’s used to when she’s carrying her laundry downstairs (it’s how she knows when she’s on the unsteady step since usually she can’t see over the full height of her clothes which is what procrastination gets her), and she quickly descends downstairs to the row of mailboxes that rest against the wall in front of the washing machines and dryers that work at least ninety percent of the time.

She and Belle need to move to a nicer place. They can afford it, but then again, if Belle moves, it’ll probably be with Will. It’s a constant thought every time Emma thinks about it, so she never quite works up the courage to bring up moving somewhere else. This place is just fine, they’ve made it their home, and so what if she has to walk to a bit of a creepy place to get her mail to pay her cable bill. It’s not like anyone in this town is actually going to do something to her.

They’d have hell to pay.

The stairs could use a little work, though, maybe a few new light fixtures for the hallways too.

Pulling out her key, she twists it in her box, opening it and grabbing the few envelopes that lay flat against the metal. She closes the box, locking it back up, and as she walks up the stairs, she shuffles through the mail, tripping on a loose board as she sees neat black script inked across the white in the upper left corner.

Killian Jones.

What the hell?

What the hell is he doing sending her a letter? Even though her toe is still stinging from how she jammed it, the pain worse than some of her injuries she’s gotten on the job, she stops in the middle of the staircase and rips the letter open.

Dear Emma Swan,

You’ll have to forgive me because it’s been awhile since I’ve written a letter that’s not an e-mail. I’ve been told by a rather reliable source that it’s a bit old-fashioned to write like this, but I do like a bit of a challenge. So, Swan, I’m sitting at my desk writing you a letter on stationary that Ariel found me and with my very favorite pen. And while I don’t expect you to write back, I have included several stamps to encourage you. You wouldn’t want me to waste money, now would you?

Anyways, I find myself wondering about you because you intrigue me. There are things I’d like to know. For instance, how long have you been a secret nerd watching the History Channel and National Geographic? I, for one, have been a fan for years. It’s fascinating to learn about things that have happened in the past. What other interests do you have? Do you enjoy sports? Read any good books lately? What is your ultimate favorite baked good? Do you like cooking them yourself? Are you one of those people who have a favorite flower? I am partial to sunflowers over roses, preferring the brightness of yellow, but then again, there are yellow roses.

I’m simply but a curious man who enjoys knowing the answers to my questions, and in return, you can feel free to ask me anything you want. I’d even tell you what kind of underwear I wear since you seem to be averse to answering that particular question.

Sincerely,

Killian A. Jones

“Oh my God,” she mumbles, scanning over the words one more time before opening up the envelope to see several stamps with pictures of sailboats on them.

A part of her absolutely cannot believe that he wrote her a freaking letter, but then again, she’s not really shocked. That’s exactly something that he would do just to annoy her, and the fact that he included stamps is really over the top. She’s not going to complain. She needs stamps, but damn, the man is persistent.

But she’s not going to write him back.

Absolutely not.

She folds his letter back up and puts it in the envelope before walking up the rest of the stairs and turning in the stairwell so she can get back to her floor, quickly moving into her apartment to write a check so she can send off the cable bill before she gets to work this morning. Belle is still sleeping, so she tries to stay quiet as she grabs her purse and walks right back out the door, all of her mail in the front pocket of her purse.

All day she ignores the letter that seems to be burning a hole through the leather material of her purse that’s hidden under her desk, but it’s more of an attempt at ignoring it than actually ignoring it, because when David leaves to go question a fight that broke out down by the pier, she grabs a piece of paper out of the printer and starts writing something back.

Damn it. Has she lost control of her limbs?

Jones,

You’re ridiculous. Seriously. I can’t believe you took our texts as a challenge, but then again, it is you. I have no idea why I’m writing you back, but you did say that I could ask you any question I want, and, well, I simply can’t pass up that opportunity.

So tell me, what is the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you? And spare no detail.

Sincerely,

Emma Swan.

PS: I am a mean ping pong player, and I agree with you about the roses. If you’re looking for a good book recommendation, though, I suggest Belle. She gives me all of mine.

Oh, and bear claws.

And I want to know what the A in your name stands for.

Quickly, she stuffs the paper in an envelope, seals it, writes his address on it, places a stamp in the corner, and puts it in the mailbox outside of the station so that she literally can’t take it back without tampering with federal law. She’ll bend a lot of rules, but she’s not going to break federal law over something as dumb as a letter.

Two days later, she gets a letter back. There’s no formal address this time, and she kind of likes that…not that she likes this.

Really went straight for the kill then, eh Swan? It took me a bit to remember what exactly my most embarrassing memory is, simply because I’m so suave that I don’t have many embarrassing moments.

However, when I was a young lad of twenty-three, I had the night off and left base to go out to a pub with a few of my mates. This was something we did often, something we’d done for our five years together, but on this particular night I indulged in a few too many glasses of rum. My tolerance wasn’t quite what it is now, even if I do wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck now, and while I don’t remember the night but in a few glances (particularly me telling the lasses that I was the Captain when I was not), I do remember waking up in the flat of a woman I didn’t know without my clothes anywhere in sight. Either she stole them, my mates somehow stole them, or something else happened, but my options to get home were either walking in the streets of Birkenhead in the nude or wearing this lass’s mother’s nightgown. It was this billowing, flowery thing, and while I fully believe I can wear anything I want, let’s just say my actual Captain did not take too kindly to me walking back onto base in something that was not approved. I was written up three times for one incident, and I’d just like you to imagine me having to explain why to my superiors why I was wearing a nightgown when I had no idea myself.

I have to say, though, nightgowns are quite comfortable. Lots of air to breathe. It’s likely a good thing that my mates thought it would be funny to buy me a nightgown when I was promoted. It was much more my taste. Silk is wonderful, though I don’t think I ever wore it. I much prefer my briefs.

So, there’s a story of one of the brightest moments of my youth, and while I’m sure you’ll somehow use it to torture me, it’s yours to know.

My middle name is, Andrew, by the way, and the lovely Belle has recommended me to The Guest Book as reading material. It’s rather good. Feel free to borrow my copy if you’d like. Speaking of Belle, I hear Mr. French makes rather delectable bear claws, but he’s in a fierce rivalry with Mrs. Lucas over who makes the best. Personally, I think they’re using pastries as a bit of foreplay, but that’s simply a theory from an observer.

Now, Swan, I’ve metaphorically shown you mine, so you should show me yours.

Have a good week,

Killian Andrew Jones.

Emma doesn’t realize it, but by the time she’s finished reading the letter, she’s got tears streaming down her face, just a few of them, from laughing at the thought of Killian running around in a nightgown. That’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard, but for some reason, she has no issue imagining him walking into base in a flowery nightgown that hits at his knees and shows off all of the hair on his legs with the shoulders being a little tight. It’s ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous, and she’s glad that Belle is still at the library so that she doesn’t ask what in the world Emma is laughing at.

It would be a little hard to explain.

Well, not really, but she doesn’t want to explain. Because her explaining any of this would make her have to explain other things, and since Belle already knows that Killian sent her the basket of baked goods months ago. So it would be too difficult to explain her...having to explain. This is kind of like some sort of bad inception.

But Belle’s not even here, so it definitely doesn’t matter.

While she’s still laughing, she gets up from the table and heads to the kitchen, grabbing a wine glass out of the cabinets and pouring her a glass of the wine that she and Belle didn’t finish drinking last night. If she’s going to spend her time writing letters to Killian, which is a ridiculous concept in and of itself, she should at least have some alcohol in her.

Not enough to make her have to wake up without clothes and have to borrow an ugly nightgown from the mother of the person she’d slept with but some alcohol all the same.

She doesn’t have any paper here, so she has to shuffle through some of the old notebooks Belle keeps on their bookshelves, and takes out a lined page from the back, settling down on the couch with her wine and paper and pin while Drain the Oceans plays on the TV.

Killian Andrew (Asshole) Jones,

I’ve added the “asshole” because I really did think that was your middle name. You did say you would respond to it, but I guess Andrew is okay. Is that a family name? Your father’s maybe? I don’t have a middle name, didn’t even have a last name, only my first, but I’ve always kind of thought it would be something classic since my first name is.

Shit. I just got wine on the paper. Oops.

So you and that rum, huh? You seem to be a fan of it. And also nightgowns. Are you sure you don’t sleep in one of those? Is that why you don’t have a girlfriend? You scare them all away with your nightgown. I imagine it makes easy access to...things, so really, they should like it better than the briefs. It’s just a great mystery that may never be solved.

Granny’s bear claws are better than Mr. French’s hands down, but Mr. French has better pastries overall. Plus, he’s like my dad, so you implying that they have a thing going on is really kind of freaking me out. I bet Granny wears a nightgown, though, which makes my earlier joke about easy access so much creepier.

Some things simply shouldn’t be imagined. But if you’re going to, make sure to tell Ruby to scar her for life.

I haven’t read that book, but if Belle recommends it, it must be good. I’ll have to check it out. I’ve been very into historical romances lately, which isn’t really on par for me, but there’s simply something about Jane Austen, you know?

Thanks for telling me your most embarrassing story. You’re right. I’m totally going to use that against you, and no, I will not tell you my most embarrassing story. It involves karaoke, though, so it’s a good one.

Emma

If she hadn’t had the wine, she probably would have realized that she revealed a bit too much in her letter, but after she seals it that night and sends it off in the morning, still using the sailboat stamps Killian provided, she doesn’t think about it.

Not at all.

What she does think about is the fact that eight days go by without a new letter. She didn’t even realize that she wanted another letter, that she got a weird sense of excitement over them, until she wasn’t receiving one in her mailbox.

Who has she turned into that she’s checking her mailbox daily?

What decade is this?

But her week has gone by as normal, spending her days at work, reveling in the hour break she gets to eat lunch with David or Ariel, and her evenings at home, sometimes with Belle, sometimes not. On Saturday she, Ruby, Belle, Mary Margaret, and Ariel all spent the day at the beach, waking up early enough to beat all of the tourists there, and settled down with blankets and umbrellas with bags full of food and a cooler full of drinks. They didn’t bother moving, not unless to dip into the ocean to cool themselves off or to run up to the pier to use the restroom, and even if her eyes constantly trailed down to the pier to look at the fleet of ships and boats and what not resting outside of the Jones’ office.

And if her eyes kept checking her texts even if most everyone she spoke to was already there, no one had to know. Though she does think that Ruby noticed.

She wasn’t very subtle in her desperation.

But she didn’t see him, not that she wanted to, and she tried to push it all to the back of her mind to enjoy the day as the sun beat down on her skin so that she got the slightest bit of a tan that she hopes stays with her until the fall.

Okay, so she thinks about the lack of a letter a lot.

However, she wasn’t thinking about it when she was driving home from work, but now that she’s standing next to the door of her apartment with Will holding a stack of their mail, it’s all she can think about.

Shit.

Why didn’t it occur to her that she and Belle share a mailbox and that Belle could see one of these letters? How could she have missed that?

“Hey,” she cautiously greets, placing her keys down, the clanging loud in her ears, on the table and stepping further into the room, “I didn’t know you were coming over tonight.”

“Belle and I are going to dinner. Why do you have a letter from Jones?”

“Huh?” she asks, trying to keep her voice steady even though her heart is beating wildly in her chest, the sound louder than it has been in a long time. She can feel it all the way down to her toes. “I have a letter?”

Will raises his eyebrow, obviously not believing her, and as casually as she can, she steps forward and takes the letter from Will, stuffing it away in the back pocket of her jeans.

“So where are you guys going for dinner?” Emma asks to change the subject.

“Eric’s place. He gives me a discount.”

“Ah, yes, because everyone wants discount fish.”

“Oi, it’s not like he’s giving us the old fish.”

“So you think. If you guys die in a few days, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“We’ll be dead, and you’ll be bragging about it.”

“Exactly.” She steps around Will and sits down on the couch, reaching down to unlace her boots and kick them off. “I guess I’ll miss you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Emma,” Belle shouts, and Emma leans her head back to look down the hall to see Belle standing in the hallway, “can I borrow those teal heels that you wore last week?”

“Yeah, they’re in my bathroom.”

Belle doesn’t say anything back, but less than a minute she comes into their living room wearing the teal heels and a little black dress, fluffing out her hair over her shoulders while Will grabs his coat off the chair, stepping up to her and kissing her cheek, whispering something that Emma doesn’t pick up on, which is good. It’s private, and she doesn’t need to hear things about their private life.

Her hearing thing has been wonky lately anyways. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.

“We probably won’t be back until late,” Belle tells her, and Emma reaches her hand up over the couch to let Belle grab onto it. “Do you want me to bring you back anything?”

“Nah, you two go have fun. Don’t do anything that I’ll have to investigate.”

“Well, that just takes all of the fun away.”

After the two of them leave, she leans up on the couch and pulls the later out of her back pocket, hoping that Will forgets about it and doesn’t mention it to Belle, and quickly opens the sealed envelope, her nerves running over every inch of her skin and making her fingers shake the slightest bit as she straightens the creases out of the paper.

Emma,

I apologize for my late reply, but you seem to have caught me at a bad time. I had a client call and request a refurbishment on his seafaring vessel (his words, not mine), and I’ve been consumed with it. I love this job. It’s a way to keep me connected to the ocean, a place where I spent so much of my life, but this is different. And it certainly didn’t help that my wrist decided to act up a bit this week. It’s the weather and all.

Regardless, I do wish you would have told me your most embarrassing story. I feel like it’s a real ice breaker, and I love karaoke....if I’m drunk. But then again, bad things seem to happen when I’m drunk. So wine? That’s your vice? I always took you more as a tequila or whiskey type, but then again, I’m learning that I know very little about you, love. Though, I like that it’s changing a bit, if I may be so bold.

Jane Austen is bloody brilliant, and it’s nice to hear of someone else appreciating her. Mr. Darcy and I have a lot in common, you know? I, too, screw up with strong-willed women and then have to realize the error of my ways to have them allow me back into their lives. Or, at least, I hope. Tell me, if you’re a fan of historical romances, how are you not a fan of letter writing when that is such a core piece of the story? Is it simply that you don’t like modern day letter writing because it, for practical reasons, doesn’t make any sense? We could have had this entire conversation in ten minutes, but it’s taken eight days. Yet, this is a bit more fun, even though talking to you does incite other kinds of fun.

As to my middle name, it’s my mother’s maiden name. My father’s name is Brennan, and the only thing I carry from him is the Jones name, which is likely a good thing. He wasn’t a good man. He was a drunk, and he abandoned us when I was ten. I’m proud to be a Jones because of my brother and my mum, so like you, I suspect that my last name carries a weight that most don’t.

Anyways, that’s much too much information about me. Tell me, Swan, there’s a Summer Regatta coming up in two weeks. Do you think you’ll be at the festival? I know someone who can get you a free ride on a boat.

Killian.

He’s got a screwed up family too.

That’s what she gets out of all of that. It’s not that he loves the same books that she does, not that he correctly guessed her drinking vices, not that he practically invited her to be his date to the regatta in over Labor Day weekend. It’s the fact that he has a screwed up family, a drunk deadbeat dad and a dead mom. She knew his family life wasn’t great, if only because Elsa never mentions having to take the kids to go see Liam’s parents.

Huh.

She can kind of see it now, can see that he is a bit of an orphan too, and even though he had parents, it breaks her heart. No one should ever have to grow up without having people love them, and she’s thankful that Killian had Liam and their mom. That’s a nice thing for them to have a family, even if it’s not what most people would call complete.

Maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s the fact that she suddenly understands Killian in a way that she knows only a few people can, but she pulls out her phone and lets her fingers move without thinking about it too much.

Emma: So not a fan of karaoke then? Is your voice that bad?

The three dots pop up almost immediately after she presses send only for them to disappear, only coming back every few seconds. He’s either trying to think of what to say or realized that he’s texting back incredibly fast. It’s nice to know some things never change.

Killian: For someone who is incredibly attracted to my voice, that’s a bold thing for you to suggest.

Emma: Touché.

Emma: So it’s not bad then?

Killian: I’ve been told that it’s actually pretty good, but I find that karaoke does nothing but bring embarrassment unless you’ve been drinking all day.

Emma: Okay, but say you have…what’s your go-to song?

Kilian: Easy. Anything Elton John. He’s so easy to understand.

Emma: You’re kidding, right?

Killian: Nope.

He definitely has to be kidding.

Emma: I figured you’d be more of a Queen or Beatles guy. I’m pretty partial to Queen.

Killian: Well, I could do those too. Or pretty much anything from the eighties. I feel old, but I don’t know a lot of the new songs.

Emma: That’s because you are old.

Killian: Being older than you doesn’t make old. And as you can tell, I’ve retained my youthful glow.

Emma: Sure, we’ll call it that.

She takes another sip of her wine and turns the volume up a bit on the television so that she’s not simply staring at her phone waiting for him to text her back. That’d be pathetic. Then again, she’s sitting at home drinking wine and watching the History Channel while her roommate is out on a date. That could be considered pathetic. Or very, very smart depending on who is asked.

Killian: What are you up to tonight, love?

Emma: Watching Drain the Ocean, though I’ll be honest and say I have no idea what’s going on.

Emma: You?

Killian: The same, actually.

Emma: Creepy.

Killian: Believe it or not, I think we have similar taste in television shows.

Emma: Ugh, I know. I can’t believe I have so much in common with an old man.

Killian: If you keep flattering a man like this, he might get the impression that you like him.

Emma: Never.

Emma: At least we don’t like the same foods. Unless you secretly like junk food.

Killian: I enjoy certain kinds, but I don’t think I have the same propensity for grilled cheese, onion rings, and bear claws like you do.

Emma: I also like poptarts and brownies. Oooh and lots of icing.

Killian: You’re a child.

Emma: Oh, come on. You don’t like icing?

Killian: If there’s cake attached, yeah.

Emma: No, no. You’ve got this all wrong. Straight out of the can.

Killian: You also eat raw cookie dough, don’t you?

Emma: Duh.

Killian: I do like cookies, though. And mostly pastries that involve fruit. It makes it all feel a little healthier.

Emma: You’re in shape. I think you’ve got the healthy thing down.

Killian: I knew you liked staring at my ass.

Emma: I said nothing about your ass.

Killian: Just my general body then? The abs? The biceps? My collarbone? What about my left ankle? You’re into period romances. I bet the left ankle really does it for you.

“Oh my God,” she mutters to herself, putting her glass down on the coffee table and standing from the couch, smiling to herself as she reads the message and walks to the kitchen. He’s such an idiot.

Such an idiot.

And now she really wants something sweet to eat, so she presses up on her toes and gets a can of chocolate icing out of the pantry popping open the top and grabbing a spoon out of the drawer so she can at least be a little civilized about the whole thing. Without putting much thought into it, she holds the spoon full of icing up to her mouth and takes a quick picture, not checking to see what she looks like before sending it to Killian.

Emma: See? This is the way to eat sweets.

The three dots pop up before they disappear just like before, and she doesn’t really have time to think about it before the front door is swinging open and Belle is walking inside, an obviously bright red flush on her pale cheeks.

“I’m engaged,” she squeals, holding her left hand up as she walks into the apartment, a small diamond ring resting there.

“What?” Emma gasps, nearly choking on her icing before she puts the spoon and the container down, running her tongue over her teeth to wipe up all of the excess icing. “You’re engaged?”

“Yes! Will asked at dinner. Oh my gosh. You know, I always swore I wouldn’t be one of those girls, but I did the thing where I put my hands over my mouth when he got down on one knee.”

“Of course you did,” she laughs, reaching forward and wrapping Belle up in a hug, squeezing her as tightly as she can while she sees Will walk into the apartment, bags of takeout in his hands and a smile on his face that tells Emma he’s just as happy as Belle is. Good. They deserve all of the happiness. “I’m so damn happy for you. Both of you.”

“And you’ll be so much happier when you know that I brought you earplugs for tonight,” Will tells her when she hugs him.

“That is so gross.”

“I’m simply trying to be helpful.”

“Babe,” Belle laughs, walking over to the two of them and leaning into Will to press a kiss into his cheek, “stop grossing Emma out and give me five minutes to tell her what happened before we can let her put the earplugs into use.”

“Nope, nope, no,” she refuses, putting her hands in the air, “you guys just go. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Perfect.”

“Please ignore him.”

“I promise you I’m trying.”

Will and Belle go back to their room, and she takes the opportunity to grab her phone, her icing, and plant herself in front of the television, turning to volume up so that she doesn’t have to risk hearing anything else. Tonight will probably be the night that her weird hearing thing picks up again.

She is so damn happy for the two of them, a bit of a buzz of happiness spreading over her skin, but she can’t help the little voice in her head that wonders what’s next for her if the two of them are getting married.

She hates that she thinks that.

Her phone dings, and she looks down at it, forgetting that she was texting Killian before Belle and Will came home.

How long were they texting for her friends to get engaged during that time? That’s…a lot of time. Did it really all go by that quickly? She didn’t even notice.

Killian: I mean, there’s definitely something sweet in that picture that I’d like to eat.

Emma chuckles under her breath, unable to help herself, especially when accompanying the text is a picture of him holding a banana over half of his face, the scars on his wrist and the chain around his neck visible even in the dimness of his apartment. And damn it. This was not supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

She likes Killian Jones.

#Not Your (soul)Mate #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #Captain Swan

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newstfionline · 4 years

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Saturday, October 24, 2020

Migration has plummeted during the pandemic (Economist) If there is one thing that people remember about the covid-19 pandemic, it is the experience of sheltering in place. Those looking to move abroad have had little choice but to stay put, too. A new report from the OECD, a think-tank, shows that travel restrictions introduced in response to the pandemic caused migration to rich countries to fall by half in the first half of the year, compared with 2019. The sharpest declines occurred in East Asia and Oceania. Rich countries there have succeeded better than most at stopping the spread of covid-19. This is in part because they were quick to recognise the threat and institute strict travel restrictions. Some countries in the region, including Japan, South Korea and New Zealand have just about stopped accepting new immigrants entirely.

Couples doing fine (Washington Post) While lots of the early pandemic and quarantine led to speculation about a spike in divorces that would ensue following couples being crammed into close quarters for extended periods, couples are actually doing pretty okay according to the latest edition of the American Family Survey: 58 percent of married men and women aged 18 to 55 said the pandemic made them appreciate their spouse more; while 8 percent said that the pandemic weakened their commitment to one another, 51 percent said it’d deepened it. The numbers bear it out too: five states report divorce stats in real time, and on balance filings are down for 2020. Year-to-date, divorce filings are down 19 percent in Florida, 13 percent in Rhode Island, 12 percent in Oregon and 9 percent in Missouri. Only Arizona, as of now, is up.

Faulty password security (Foreign Policy) A Dutch “white hat”—or ethical hacker—claims to have logged in to the Twitter account of U.S. President Donald Trump … simply by guessing his password. Victor Gevers, a security researcher, discovered the vulnerability last Friday before alerting U.S. security authorities. Gevers allegedly gained access using the password “maga2020!” but did not succumb to the temptation of tweeting to the president’s 87 million followers. Gevers attributes the lack of account security to Trump’s age. “‘Trump is over 70—elderly people often switch off two-step verification because they find it too complicated. My own mother, for instance.”

IMF concerned over post-COVID social unrest across Latin America (Reuters) The International Monetary Fund is concerned that social unrest will make a comeback in “lots of countries” across Latin America once the COVID-19 pandemic recedes, a top IMF official said on Thursday. Economies across Latin America and the Caribbean are forecast to contract as a group by 8.1% this year, with an uneven 2021 bounce at just 3.6%, and most countries are not seen returning to pre-COVID output levels until 2023, the Fund said earlier on Thursday. “Some of the determinants of social unease are going to worsen and that generates our concern for the region, for lots of countries in the region,” Alejandro Werner, the Fund’s director for the Western Hemisphere, said in an interview with Reuters. “Coming out of the pandemic, we will have a level of economic activity and employment that will be much lower than before, a level of poverty and income distribution that is worse,” he added. Protests that sometimes turned violent rocked countries including Chile, Ecuador and Colombia even before the pandemic hit, fueled by anger over inequality, corruption and government austerity policies.

In hard-hit Peru, worry mounts over both COVID-19 and dengue (AP) PUCALLPA, Peru—Two of Lidia Choque’s close family members had already gotten sick with the new coronavirus when the mosquitos arrived. The 53-year-old woman lives in a wooden house near the airport of a Peruvian city in the Amazon rainforest. City fumigators usually visit several times during the rainy season to eliminate the pests, but this year, because of the pandemic, they were absent. When she went to a hospital after coming down with a fever and body aches, doctors delivered a double diagnosis: COVID-19 and dengue. “I couldn’t even walk,” she said. As Peru grapples with one the world’s worst SARS-CoV-2 outbreaks, another virus is starting to raise alarm: dengue. Health officials have reported over 35,000 cases this year, concentrated largely in the Amazon. The rise comes amid an overall dip in the number of new daily coronavirus infections, though authorities worry a second wave could strike as dengue cases rise.

French PM says 2nd virus wave is here, vastly extends curfew (AP) French Prime Minister Jean Castex announced on Thursday a vast extension of the nightly curfew that is intended to curb the spiraling spread of the coronavirus, saying “the second wave is here.” The curfew imposed in eight regions of France last week, including Paris and its suburbs, is being extended to 38 more regions and Polynesia starting Friday at midnight, Castex said. It is likely to last six weeks before a review, he said. The extension means that 46 million of France’s 67 million people will be under 9 p.m.-6 a.m. curfews that prohibit them from being out and about during those hours except for limited reasons, such as walking a dog, traveling to and from work and catching a train or flight.

Putin: Russia-China military alliance can’t be ruled out (AP) Russian President Vladimir Putin said Thursday there is no need for a Russia-China military alliance now, but noted it could be forged in the future. Putin’s statement signaled deepening ties between Moscow and Beijing amid growing tensions in their relations with the United States. The Russian leader also made a strong call for extending the last remaining arms control pact between Moscow and Washington. Asked during a video conference with international foreign policy experts Thursday whether a military union between Moscow and Beijing was possible, Putin replied that “we don’t need it, but, theoretically, it’s quite possible to imagine it.” Russia and China have hailed their “strategic partnership,” but so far rejected any talk about the possibility of their forming a military alliance. Russia has sought to develop stronger ties with China as its relations with the West sank to post-Cold War lows over Moscow’s annexation of Ukraine’s Crimea, accusations of Russian meddling in the 2016 U.S. presidential election and other rifts.

China hopes for change if Biden wins, but little likely (AP) Chinese leaders hope Washington will tone down conflicts over trade, technology and security if Joe Biden wins the Nov. 3 presidential election. But any shift is likely to be in style, not substance, as frustration with Beijing increases across the American political spectrum. Both Republican and Democratic lawmakers and their constituents seem disinclined to adopt a softer approach toward China, possibly presaging more strife ahead, regardless of the election’s outcome. U.S.-Chinese relations have plunged to their lowest level in decades amid an array of conflicts over the coronavirus pandemic, technology, trade, security and spying. Despite discord on so many other fronts, both parties are critical of Beijing’s trade record and stance toward Hong Kong, Taiwan and religious and ethnic minorities in Tibet and Xinjiang, where the ruling Communist Party has detained Muslims in political re-education camps. The American public is equally negative. Two-thirds of people surveyed in March by the Pew Research Center had “unfavorable views” of China, the highest since Pew started asking in 2005.

Myanmar’s second lockdown drives hunger in city slums (Reuters) After the first wave of coronavirus hit Myanmar in March, 36-year-old Ma Suu closed her salad stall and pawned her jewelry and gold to buy food to eat. During the second wave, when the government issued a stay-home order in September for Yangon, Ma Suu shut her stall again and sold her clothes, plates and pots. With nothing left to sell, her husband, an out of work construction laborer, has resorted to hunting for food in the open drains by the slum where they live on the outskirts of Myanmar’s largest city. “People are eating rats and snakes,” Ma Suu said through tears. “Without an income, they need to eat like that to feed their children.”

Bloated public salaries at heart of Iraq’s economic woes (AP) BAGHDAD—Long-time Iraqi civil servant Qusay Abdul-Amma panicked when his monthly salary was delayed. Days of waiting turned to weeks. He defaulted on rent and other bills. A graphic designer for the Health Ministry, he uses about half his salary to pay his rent of nearly 450,000 Iraqi dinars a month, roughly $400. If he fails to pay twice in a row his landlord will evict him and his family, he fears. Iraq’s government is struggling to pay the salaries of the ever-swelling ranks of public sector employees amid an unprecedented liquidity crisis caused by low oil prices. September’s salaries were delayed for weeks, and October’s still haven’t been paid as the government tries to borrow once again from Iraq’s currency reserves. The crisis has fueled fears of instability ahead of mass demonstrations this week. The political elite have used the patronage system to entrench their power. A major part of that patronage is handing out state jobs in return for support. The result has been a threefold increase in public workers since 2004. The government pays 400% more in salaries than it did 15 years ago. Around three quarters of the state’s expenditures in 2020 go to paying for the public sector—a massive drain on dwindling finances. “Now the situation is very dangerous,” said Mohammed al-Daraji, a lawmaker on parliament’s Finance Committee.

Israel warms to Sudan (Foreign Policy) An Israeli government delegation visited Sudan on Thursday, in the latest sign of warming ties between the two countries. Israeli officials reportedly met with Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, Sudan’s head of state during its transitional government. Reuters reported on Thursday that Sudan’s Prime Minister Abdalla Hamdok is ready to normalize relations with Israel as long as the country’s parliament approves the move. That approval may be some time in coming, as Sudan has yet to form a transitional parliament.

Gunfire and barricades in Guinea as President heads for third term (Reuters) Gunfire rang out across Guinea’s capital Conakry on Friday and security forces dispersed protestors after results showed President Alpha Conde winning re-election in a poll that the opposition says was unconstitutional. Conde won around twice as many votes as his nearest rival, opposition candidate Cellou Dalein Diallo, with 37 of 38 districts counted, preliminary results from the election commission showed on Thursday night. The president’s decision to run for a third term has sparked repeated protests over the past year, resulting in dozens of deaths, including at least 17 in skirmishes since Sunday’s vote. Conde says a constitutional referendum in March reset his two-term limit, but his opponents say he is breaking the law by holding onto power. Diallo’s camp said it has found evidence of fraud and will contest the result in the constitutional court.

Resentment, smoke linger in Nigeria’s streets after unrest (AP) Resentment lingered with the smell of charred tires Friday in Nigeria’s relatively calm streets after days of protests over police abuses, as authorities barely acknowledged reports of the military killing at least 12 peaceful demonstrators earlier this week. President Muhammadu Buhari in his first comments on the unrest didn’t mention the shootings that sparked international outrage, instead warning protesters against being used by “subversive elements” and “undermining national security and law and order” during a national address Thursday night. Soldiers remained in parts of Lagos, Nigeria’s largest city, on Friday. A 24-hour curfew had not yet been lifted. The protests turned violent Wednesday after the shooting as mobs vandalized and burned police stations, courthouses, TV stations and a hotel. Police battled angry crowds with tear gas and gunfire. The looting, gunfire, and street blockades continued Thursday.

#headlines #news

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fizzyhosh · 6 years

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Binding

Chapter Five

Summary: Remus likes things predictable, orderly, and punctual. His comfort-zone is compromised when he meets (Y/N), a girl who is indifferent, spontaneous, and not outwardly friendly. Despite their obvious differences, he can’t seem to stay away from her, even when they aren’t working side-by-side at the most boring job on the planet.

Word Count: 1269

A/N: HONESTLY it’s been a minute since I’ve posted any fic, let alone a part of Binding. Please forgive me. I’m literally the WORST. I hope this is good enough for you to forgive me ! Also, only ONE MORE PART of this series!!!

•••••

bind·ingˈbīndiNG

noun

1. a strong covering holding the pages of a book together.

adjective

1. (of an agreement or promise) involving an obligation that cannot be broken.

•••••

"You don't have work today," Sirius reminded, glancing over his bowl.

"I know..." Remus said slowly as he bent down and scanned the contents of the fridge.

"Then why are you leaving?"

He stood up slightly and peeked over the door at Sirius. "Am I only allowed to leave the house for work?"

"I mean," he paused to swallow his food before continuing, "you never left the house before you got the job."

"Fair point. It's nice outside today, though."

Sirius frowned. "Are you keeping a secret?" He perked up. "Are you going to see Y/N? Outside of work? Like a date?"

"No." Remus shut him down quickly. "Why do you seem so disappointed by that?"

"You like her and I want you two to hit it off."

"We're friends, Sirius. She has a boyfriend and I'm not a home wrecker. We are going somewhere but it's not a date, alright?

Sirius tried holding back his large grin. "Have fun, mate."

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I'm just excited for you to start living your best life. I also can't wait for her to realize you two are perfect for each other. Just all around excited."

"You're starting to sound likes James. Go back to the edgy Sirius we all know and love. I'll be back later this afternoon."

"Bye, loverboy."

Remus flipped him off and got on his bike, making his way to where he and Y/N agreed to meet up. He waited a while, wondering if he misread the time they were supposed to meet. He pulled out his phone, alternating between rereading "noon" in the text and looking at the time at the top of his screen. It was close to 12:45 and he was about to head home, only partly devastated that the love of his life didn't show up. That was a an understatement, he was definitely heartbroken.

As he got back on his bike, Y/N yelled across the small park. Remus looked up to see her disheveled and upset. He dropped his bike as she approached him and almost knocked him over as a constant stream of words flowed out of her mouth.

"I can't believe you waited, I'm so sorry I'm late, my alarm didn't go off because my phone died and since my phone died I couldn't text you and I was just hoping you were still here because I value our friendship and ohmygosh I can't believe you're actually still here."

Remus put his hands on Y/N's arms, smiling lightly. "First, breathe."

Y/N nodded and breathed deeply.

"Second, of course I waited. I value our friendship too. And considering how many times you've almost been late to work, I figured you'd be late to this as well." That was only a small lie. He did expect her to be a little late, but not 45 minutes. He also was just trying to calm down the sound of raging butterflies at the "I value our friendship" part by cracking a joke, which worked for a moment until she smiled and riled up the butterflies again. Remus dropped his hands, hoping the lack of contact might settle the noise in his head.

"You are really the nicest person I have ever met."

That felt like a friendzone sentence, which really helped the butterfly noise situation because they immediately stopped, an aching heart replacing the wild animals.

"You look like you need a coffee."

"Yes, I do," Y/N said, leading them to the coffee shop across the street. They talked for a while until their presence was considered loitering and had to find a new place to chat.

Remus liked how easy it was to get lost in a conversation with her. Unfortunately, he was so comfortable that he let words slip that he never intended Y/N to hear.

"My anniversary is tomorrow and I still have no idea what to do," Y/N said with a sigh as they walked around the park, admiring the weather and nature.

Remus bit his lip, not a fan of this conversation. Y/N's boyfriend really seemed like a piece of trash. "Well tomorrow is doomed for me too. Lily's party." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and kicked the ground.

Y/N nodded. "We should just convince the world tomorrow is cancelled so neither of us have to do our stupid things."

"There must be something that makes you look forward to your anniversary?" Remus prompted as he looked at her sideways.

She sighed and paused for a long time before asking, "Do you think I should break up with him?"

He was taken aback. Here he had the chance to give great advice that would make her break up with her boyfriend, but instead, he let slip the dumbest thing he could have.

"Well, to be honest, I might not have started checking out so many books in the first place if I knew you had a boyfriend, so yeah." His eyes widened as she frowned.

"What?" she asked with a small, confused laugh.

"Uh.."

"Wait... did you only go to the bookstore because I worked there?"

"Y/N, it's not as weird as it sounds."

"Really, Remus? Because it sounds like you stalked me until I offered you a job."

He shook his head vigorously. "No, it's not like that."

"Then what exactly did you do?"

"Look," he took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Just let me say what I need to say and then you can fire me and block my number and do whatever else you want. I'm going to be 100 percent honest right now."

Y/N crossed her arms, looking insecure now that she discovered Remus didn't just come into the bookstore because he read super fast. One of the only people she felt she could trust these days didn't seem to be who he said he was.

"I've never been very outgoing or friendly or fluent with words. The first time I saw you, I was completely speechless at how beautiful you were. I couldn't think of the right words to say to you so I just left. The thing is, Y/N, I've never had trouble forgetting about random people or getting thoughts out of my mind but you drove me crazy from the moment I saw you. I couldn't even watch The Princess Bride because I could only think about all the things I could have and should have said to you in the bookstore. So I went back the next day, ready to say all these amazing things but you had your hair up and you looked so perfect that all my confidence just erased completely from existence. I know it sounds crazy but I kept checking out books so I had an excuse to go back and talk to you, but I just could never find the right words to say to you. After I found out you had a boyfriend, I swear I never intended to ruin that or anything. I meant what I said earlier. I do value our friendship. A lot."

He waited and scanned Y/N's face for any hint of any emotion. He'd even be fine with her being royally pissed if he could just tell what she was thinking.

"I have to go," she mumbled simply, emotionless. "Thanks for being honest with me."

Remus stood as he watched her walk to her car, running her hands through her hair. He felt a few tears fall as she drove off, wondering in what world would things have been different?

He got on his bike and rode home, trying to make it back before he started spiraling. Remus' spiral of emotions was something best experienced in the safety of a house with his best mates there to look after him.

Permanent Tags: @aheadfullofsherlock @luna-xxxxx @sjriusblck @gabiatthedisco @siriuslyimmoony @young7711 @diggorysghost @niffleurs@flowercrownchic @havecourage-darling @swellwriting @bluemadcnna @jamcspotters @heartbeats-wildly @mayakblack @sleep-i-ness @sly-vixen-up2nogood @mugglebornmadness @thefantasticalfangirl @portkeys-and-prose @weasleyswizardweezes

Remus Tags: @knowledgeisthebomb @the-best-fanfition-ever @harrypotterimmaginaa @stateofloveandvedder @gryffindorprincess379 @finnofamerica @serenefreakgeek @wwhitewwolff @riddikulus-remus

Binding Tags: @wolverinesbeer @ceruleanrainblues @the-apple-princess @acutelittlehufflepuff @oceanaged @coolepowersthings @elfenbensord @blubmachine @fortisfiliae @wolfenbeck @stylespowus @mamapuritysan @golddustcoven @rochelle-the-ravenclaw @marauderskeeper @marauderwolfstarjily

#remus #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #binding #bookstore au #marauders

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fragmented-logic · 5 years

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Australia is Burning

It saddens me that I writing yet another post about devastating fires. As with my last post about the Amazon, this post is to bring awareness and provide readers with true facts surrounding this major, ongoing event. Many posts that get circulated often feature photos from different events or misinformation. Any information provided in this post will be from reputable sources and sited at the end. (Don’t like a source, please, I encourage you to do your own research.) I also just want to say that this is only a snapshot of information. There are so many more articles and relevant information out there, this is only pieces of the news!

Latest updates at the bottom of this post.

Background Info

“Bush fires are an annual occurrence in Australia and deadlier fires have occurred there,” BUT “this fire season began unusually early and is projected to last for months.” (1)

“It’s worth pointing out that Australia’s northern savannah regions frequently experience large fires, and these fires are very different in scale to the bushfires in the southern regions.” (4)

Image:

Smoke rising from bushfires at the coast of East Gippsland, Victoria.Credit...Australian Maritime Safety Authority, via Reuters

“Australia just had its hottest and driest year on record, and December was one of the top two hottest months in the country’s history.” (1)

“The heat and dry conditions have turned the Australian landscape into a tinderbox.” (1)

“The country recorded its hottest-ever day when the nationally averaged high temperature hit 107.4 degrees F (41.9 C) This broke the old record of 104.5 F (40.3 C), set in January 2013.” (1)

“The Bureau of Meteorology reported that the western Sydney suburb of Penrith, which reached a high of 48.9 degrees Celsius, or 120 degrees Fahrenheit, was the hottest place in the country on Saturday. [Jan 4]” (2)

Image: Matthew Abbott for The New York Times

“Climate studies show that human-caused climate change is raising the odds and severity of heat events globally, including in Australia.” (1)

Wildlife

“Fires burning in national forests have severely impacted iconic wildlife, including koalas.” (1) But damage has not been fully assessed.

“In southern Australia, fire tore through a popular nature reserve known for its koalas, sea lions and other wildlife, killing a man and his grown son.” (2)

“ For Australia’s wildlife, the toll has been incalculable. About 87 percent of Australia’s wildlife is endemic to the country, which means it can be found only on this island continent. And a great many of those species, like the koala, the southern brown bandicoot and the long-footed potoroo, have populations living in the regions now being obliterated by the fires. Because the fires this season have been so intense and consumed wetlands as well as dry eucalyptus forests, there are few places many of these animals can seek refuge.” (2)

Image: A kangaroo rushed past a burning house in Lake Conjola, New South Wales, Australia, on Tuesday.Credit...Matthew Abbott for The New York Times

Impact on People and Land

As of Jan 4, 2020: “Since the fires began ravaging the country in October, more than 1,000 buildings have been lost to the flames.” (1) At least 24 people have died. (2)

Since October “at least 10.1 million acres have burned in Victoria and New South Wales alone. This is equivalent to the size of Maryland. It’s also about 8.5 million acres larger than the amount of land charred during California’s 2018 fire season, which featured the state’s largest area of burned acreage in a single season.” (1)

“More than 12 million acres have burned so far, an area larger than Switzerland, and the damage is expected to only get worse in the extremely arid conditions that are allowing the fires to spread. The fires are also so hot and so large that they are creating their own weather patterns, which can worsen the conditions.” (2)

Image: Locals shelter on the beach at Mallacoota on Tuesday morning - Peter Hoskin

(Jan 4th) “Earlier this week, in the tourist seaside town of Mallacoota, the sky had turned pitch black by 9:30am. People fled their homes, taking to water for safety. Some huddled in boats, while others wore gas-masks and sheltered on the beach.” (1)

Read more about the situation in Mallacoota here.

(Jan 4th) In Nowra, a coastal town two hours south of Sydney, the sky went dark as the air filled with choking smoke. (2)

“The bush fires are producing choking smoke and toxic pollution. On Wednesday (January), the air quality index in Canberra spiked to more than 20 times the hazardous level, the city’s worst reading on record.” (1)

“Fire-generated thunderstorms have appeared over blazes in two different places.” (2)

Military Deployment

(as of Jan 4, 2020)

Image:

People evacuated from the coastal town of Mallacoota by the Australian Navy arrived in the port of Hastings on Saturday morning.Credit...Pool photo by Ian Currie

“the [Australian] government announced on Saturday a large-scale use of military assets, a deployment not seen since World War II, experts say. About 3,000 army reservists, along with aircraft and naval ships, are being made available to help with the evacuation and firefighting efforts.” (2) Thousands of people were evacuated, largely from communities along the southeastern coast, where the towns swell with tourists during the summer. (2)

Fire Status

(Jan 4th) “The fire commissioner of the Rural Fire Service in New South Wales, Shane Fitzsimmons, told reporters on Saturday that more than 148 active fires were burning in his state alone, with 12 at an emergency level. Farther south, in Victoria, the authorities counted more than 50 active fires.” (2)

“This is not a bush fire,” Andrew Constance, the transport minister in New South Wales, told ABC radio. “It’s an atomic bomb.” (2)

“ As of Tuesday, Jan. 7, all fires in NSW have been downgraded to advice level, while Victoria has 13 fires burning at "watch and act" levels. Mild rain has given firefighters some reprieve but there is some concern that Jan. 9 and Jan. 10 could bring worse conditions once again.” (3)

(below image as of December 24, 2019)

As of Jan 6, 2020: “At least 24 people have so far been killed - including three volunteer firefighters - and more than 6.3 million hectares (63,000 sq km or 15.6 million acres) of bush, forest and parks have been burned.” (5)

As of Jan 6, 2020: New South Wales has been the worst affected. In NSW, “fire has affected almost five million hectares, destroying more than 1,300 houses and forcing thousands to seek shelter elsewhere. About 130 fires were burning across the state on Monday, in the bush, mountain forests and national parks.” (5)

Fire maps and more information here.

How can you help?

Disclaimer. I did not research any of these places to give or help out with for their validity. PLEASE do your own research to make sure whatever cause you give to is not a scam, that what you give is going directly to the cause you are trying to support. Also consider giving to the future and not just the immediate concerns.

This article listed some possible ways to help or give.

Sources:

1. https://www.washingtonpost.com/graphics/2020/world/amp-stories/australia-fires/?hpid=hp_rhp-top-table-low_australia-stamp-825am%3Ahomepage%2Fstory-ans&tid=a_inl_manual&tidloc=4

2. https://www.nytimes.com/2020/01/04/world/australia/fires-military.html

3. https://www.cnet.com/how-to/australian-fires-everything-we-know-about-the-crisis-and-how-you-can-help/ (wouldn’t hurt to fact check this one)

4. https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/datablog/ng-interactive/2019/dec/07/how-big-are-the-fires-burning-on-the-east-coast-of-australia-interactive-map

5. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-australia-50951043

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agustdef · 5 years

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Here & Now - Chapter 12

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Fluff; Chill romance

Word Count: 2,490

Warning: None.

Banner Marker: @dee-ehn

A/N: Posting this early because it’s my birthday and I wanted to. Another chapter will still be posted tomorrow because it’s the regular posting day (Wednesday).

That lovely urge to burn my manuscript was back and in full force. Everything I read felt like it was already a dumpster fire, so adding actual fire wasn’t a wild concept.

I only had myself to blame for the feeling though. I’d finished the first draft in record time and Ara, the awesome woman she was, allowed me to keep the initial timeline to churn out the book. So when I had so much time left over instead of handing it over, I thought I could rewrite it so it’s less disaster. Told myself I didn’t mind having to do it and then do it however many times Ara or my editor for the series decided.

There was no greater lie.

The first ten chapters were a breeze, nothing major I needed to fix and the words just flowed out of me; better than the first draft. However, work started to hit hard and then before I knew it I’d hit a block wall with it. My music and work on other things were going fine, but the will to touch the particular story dissipated.

I’d finally reached the sixteenth chapter after a week and a half on the struggle bus that was chapter fifteen. And by some miracle, it was all flowing again. For the first time in like a month, I’d been able to pump out a rewrite in a day. It felt like heaven.

So when someone came knocking on my door like they were the police in the midst of the last five hundred word stretch I wasn’t amused.

On the other side of my door was Hals, who pushed her way inside and immediately went to my laptop. She bent down and stared for a few seconds.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Hm…” Another few seconds of nothing and then she turned to me. “The boys got here yesterday.”

“I know that.”

We stared at each other for several seconds, as if waiting on the other to expound on our statements. I was so deep into the fictional world that I couldn’t possibly pick up what she was putting down.

“So… you were texted that this was their day off before things got hectic and you were summoned.”

“Am I a demon?”

She rolled her eyes, clearly fed up with me. “Sometimes, but that’s not the point. The point is that you are also off today, minus the writing which I can see is almost done. Meaning you’re coming with me, since you failed to answer or look at any texts from Yoongi, Joon or the group chat.”

“I have writing to…”

“We both know that it will take less than an hour to finish that and you planned to nap the rest of the day.”

I opened my mouth to interject but had nothing. “You not wrong.”

Hals smiled, grabbing her phone and taking a seat on my couch. “Then I’ll wait and then we’ll go. Oh… you’re driving.”

Sighing, I retook my seat and got back to work. There was little time for me to internally cuss her out as I slipped back into the moment. Making sure that my main character ended the chapter full or rage and holding a knife to someone’s throat was the priority.

Before I knew it my fingers finished typing and the chapter was done. The clock on my computer alerted me it had only been fifteen minutes, which was a rare occurrence with pumping out six hundred and twenty-three words. I was pleased regardless.

“Now go change,” she said without even looking my way.

“Why am I letting you order me around?” I asked as I shut down my laptop.

“Because it would be pointless to argue with me. You’d be wasting time when we both know you want to go, even though you don’t like that I just popped up and interrupted.” The way she smiled so sweetly after made me want to throw a pillow at her.

I ended up just flipping her off and heading to my room to get dressed. With the lack of need to impress anyone, I threw on a pair of ripped gray jeans, a lilac crop top that said ‘The sky is not the limit’ and one of my million dark gray sweaters. My hair was already in two braids, so after laying my edges I grabbed a beanie and reentered the living room.

Halsey was already at the door, holding up a pair of shoes for me. I brushed her aside, grabbed the galaxy Converse I had and slipped them on. I’d swiped my phone and bag on the way to the door.

“Also you’re driving,” I said, shoving the keys into her hand and exiting the apartment.

The entire drive their she grumbled about it. It was hilarious, even more so when we pulled up at the house the boys were staying at when she jumped out without a glance my way.

We walked to the door in silence and before she could even knock Namjoon was yanking it open. The big dork was smiling way too hard when he saw us and without a word pulled us inside. I almost ended up knocking into the small table in the foyer but was able to stop myself last minute.

“Damn dude.”

“Sorry,” he said bashfully.

Shaking my head I just proceeded to kick off my shoes and then follow the two of them deeper into the house. We entered the living room/kitchen/dining room area where there were already five people: Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung.

They were scattered on the couches and chairs, all watching some show on the TV. When Joon clapped they all turned our way, smiles immediately gracing their faces as they got up to greet her.

Nerves kicked in immediately. Meeting people was always awkward as hell for me and I tended to overthink, so meeting five new people was weird.

While hiding I hadn’t noticed Hoseok slink over to me, arms wide and smile bright as ever. “Why are you hiding?”

The smile that tugged on my lips was because his was so contagious. Though hesitant I stepped into the hug. “Hi, Hoseok.”

Though we’d never met in person I’d spoken to him many times. First, when Joon had come over and they’d video chat while we worked. More so when Yoongi and I started, they talked often as well and when he’d returned back rap line tended to speak to me as a group. We clicked well and just like any in-person bonding it solidified and friendship.

“They’re nice,” he stage whispered to me.

We pulled away and I laughed, then realized eyes were on me now. They were all still smiling, waiting patiently.

“Hi.” I gave the most awkward wave of my life.

“Say it with you chest,” Joon said.

Whipping around to look at him I gave what I assumed was a look that said, ‘what the actual fuck.’ The man lacked shame though and just pushed me closer to the half-circle.

Sighing I put on my best, genuine smile and made eye contact with all four boys. “Hi. I’m Kendall.”

Before I knew it all four moved forward and spoke at the same time, but stopped when they realized. After several more seconds, they stared at each other and then tried again.

“Hello, I’m Jin.”

“Nice to meet you, Kendall. I’m Jimin.” He did that cute smile of his and I almost gushed.

“I’m Taehyung. Hello.”

“I’m Jungkook,” he blurted out. “I mean hi, I’m Jungkook.”

In the corner of my eye, I could see Joon roll his eyes and Hals trying not to laugh. I myself wanted to laugh, but Jungkook looked a little embarrassed.

“It’s nice to meet all of you.”

Before I could say anything else there was a jab to my side that made me jump. Whipping around my finger was already raised and inches from Yoongi’s face.

“You need to stop doing that. You pretend it’s a light poke, but it’s like your trying to push that bony finger of yours in between my ribs.”

All he did was shrug and smirk. Then he pulled me into a hug I wanted to reject but didn’t. His hugs were always nice and we always lingered longer than normal, but when I remembered where we are I casually pull away.

Hals, being the awesome person she is, directs attention to her so there’s no weird silence afterward.

“Sorry, would have been here on time but she was writing and I know better than pulling her away without finishing,” she said.

“Writing? I thought you were on a break after finishing the draft?” Yoongi asked in Korean.

I froze. Part of me thought I’d told him, but then I remembered I’d chosen not to. He’d been lecturing on taking a break of some kind because of all the projects I had, and I’d pretended to consider that.

“I’m rewriting it,” I mumbled.

“What did she say?” I heard Jin ask Joon in Korean.

Joon just shook his head, taking a step closer to me. He was only a few inches taller so he didn’t completely tower over me, but it felt like he was; staring down at me menacing. Hell, the same feeling was created when Yoongi also stepped closer and we were just about the same height.

“She said she’s rewriting it,” Joon said.

In the background, I could see Hals watching intently with a smirk on her face. The jerk knew what was coming next for me, I was very sure that the entire situation was a set-up at that point.

“Thought you were going to take a break?” Yoongi stepped closer again and I tried to step back, but Hoseok just pushed me forward again.

I made a mental note to beat his ass at a later time.

“What I said was that I would try to. But then I breezed through those last chapters and thought a rewrite wouldn’t kill me.” I tried to play it cool. Tried.

His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms as he moved closer; Joon doing the same.

“She also is exceeding her producing limit which is three projects at a time to five as of last week. Plus she’s still working on that anthology,” Hals added.

Whipping around I glared at her. She just continued to smirk at me, especially when the boys moved even closer leaving me no escape.

“Why do I tell your punk ass anything? Why?”

Joon tapped my shoulder to bring my attention back to them and while he looked more amused than before Yoongi did not. His brow was raised and he was making that face he made when he was genuinely upset.

I was ninety-five percent sure if I made the wrong move I’d be murdered.

“Wait. It’s not that bad. Yes, it’s a lot but I’m handling it. The projects are at varying stages, two of them almost done. The anthology is just editing and rewriting certain parts of it. And I just finished the sixteenth chapter of the rewrite, leaving me with eight chapters left.”

Even though I was appealing to both of them I focused on Yoongi. I’d even given my little mercy pleading in Korean, though that hadn’t been intentional.

If nothing else showed how close I was to them and how I genuinely cared allowing them to scold me about being a knucklehead did. For over a year Joon had already been like a brother figure, we’d clicked and he’d asserted himself that way. Yoongi had made it clear at the beginning of our friendship how he’d operate if I was doing something slightly stupid. Hell, even Hoseok had grown comfortable enough to call me out on my bullshit.

For a second I thought I saw Yoongi’s expression soften, Joon’s did, but I was proven wrong.

Yoongi huffed. “You overwork your brain too much. You need to rest.”

“I promise things clear up in like a month. My mom and Marcus talked me into making myself unavailable for a month. Most of my stuff will be done by then and I’m restricted from starting new things. Plus it gives me time to truly sit and think about contract stuff.”

For a moment we just stood there, but then he sighed and he shoulders dropped. “Fine.”

With that, I let out a sigh of relief and then was aware of those around us. Most of them wore a confused expression, while Joon and Hoseok were trying not to smile. Halsey was hiding behind Joon was I couldn’t see her.

“So, back to the movie?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence.

Everyone nodded and headed towards the seating. They all gave me brief smiles as they went by, but Jimin had this weird little smirk on his face that I didn’t have time to decipher. Hals tried to run past me quickly, but I pinched her arm and flipped her off as she went.

When Joon went past he paused to throat chop me, which I failed to block. “Stop being hard-headed.”

Hoseok walked by and I immediately punched his arm, to which he dramatically gasped. But he knew what he did, so he went on his merry way. It left me and Yoongi who just stared for a moment and then inclined his head so I would follow. I ended up on a smaller couch between him and Hoseok.

The atmosphere was nice and I got to know the other guys a little better. From my point of view, they were cool and none of them seemed to hate me. I knew I’d been awkward to start, but as time went on it became more comfortable.

We went through a few movies and ordered food at some point because no one was in the mood to cook anything. Everyone tired for one reason or another. Before I knew it though, I was drifting off to sleep on the couch. My body falling to the side and onto Yoongi’s arm. I was aware of it, but sleep had its hooks deep in me and I couldn’t move.

In my half-sleep state, Yoongi had adjusted me so I leaned comfortably on him. And just as I almost went over my phone went off, startling me awake. Fumbling for a bit I pulled it out to see it was Marcus, meaning I should answer. Before I could the phone was taken and tossed to Joon.

“Handle that,” Yoongi said.

I went to protest, but Joon was already on the phone greeting him. The haze of sleep was already reclaiming me, so I could barely make out what they were saying. I tried to shake it off, but then I was pushed back down onto Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Go to sleep, Kendall,” Yoongi said.

It was that last thing I heard before my body finally gave in.

#min yoongi #yoongi #suga #min suga #original character #oc #sugaxoc #yoo #producer!oc #writer!oc #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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jaehyunpeachy · 6 years

Text

i am you // you are me - yoonkook - 5k

some weird soulmate shit happens.

read: yoongi keeps running into this cute cashier boy. and they keep matching?

(music to listen: 1. belief - mabinc 2. i am you you are me - zico 3. soulmate - zico ft. iu)

man, seoul has a completely different atmosphere and air to it - way different than in daegu. literally, the air smells different here and yoongi thinks it’s not necessarily a bad thing, but the fact that he notices this small and random detail just makes him a little more depressed because he longs for his cozy home back in good ole d-town.

he’s lounging in a flimsy lawn chair on his apartment balcony and distastefully sniffs the stuffy seoul air again. his mind wanders back to old, familiar places - the bustling family restaurant, his mom’s soothing voice, his father beckoning him to taste the family’s famous galbi-jjim , his brother’s annoying method of showing affection via noogies when yoongi grudgingly accepts his chores for the day.

the fond memories in his head are juxtaposed with the outside sound and sight of the bustling nighttime atmosphere. everything in seoul is so,fast-paced , even the night life, which he can clearly see from his vantage point. he hasn’t really gotten used to it all, more like, barely tolerating it. he’s kinda stubbornly refusing to settle completely which serves to make him more homesick and then he’s stuck in this cycle of stubbornness and nostalgia and longing and stubbornness and nostalgia and longing.

yoongi breaks his nostalgic reverie when he stands up, the chair loudly scraping against the floor. if he’s going to drown himself in memories and be a sad, depressed sack he might as well do it right - with some alcohol.

he checks the fridge to grab a can of beer but fuck - he’s out. all that’s left is a pack of sliced turkey meat, a sad pile of lettuce, a lone half-empty gallon of milk, and a fully empty carton that used to hold eggs.

damn, his produce is mocking him.

just a few hours ago when he opened his fridge he saw the same turkey, lettuce, milk, and egg carton and the word minimalism smugly appeared in his head. yoongi prides himself on not being wasteful; he’s able to use each and every one of his ingredients until they’re completely gone, thank you very much.

but seeing as he’s in a less than ideal mood to be holed up at home and he has a dire need of alcohol, yoongi tears his eyes away from his sad produce, grabs his wallet and keys, and wrestles himself into a big sweater to combat the chilly night-time seoul air. he grumbles as he steps out of his apartment complex. daegu was always on the warmer side. who knows, maybe the seoul air will help clear his head. maybe.

yoongi finds himself deep in thought as he’s walking, a result of his melancholy mood and the atmosphere of night probably. as a result, he doesn’t realize that he’s actually not walking in the direction of the nearest 7-eleven. when he hears the distant sound of a car angrily honking five times - goddamn, chill - he’s shaken out of his thoughts and glances at his surroundings.

nice. he’s in a random alley.

well, way to go min yoongi. this night is just continually fucking with him and becoming more and more disappointing. he takes a minute to inwardly curse at himself for his obliviousness before he has the smart idea of grabbing his phone out his pocket. he googles the nearest convenience store. the top result is ten yards from his current location.

he rounds a corner and walks a few paces before he spots it. only a single neon sign that reads “ level” adorns its storefront and he assumes that’s what the store is called. yoongi power walks toward it, through the front door, and straight towards where he thinks they should be keeping the alcohol because dammit, he is a man on a mission.

somewhere on the other end of the store, which isn’t actually far from where yoongi stands now, the clock goes from 11:59 to 12:00.

yoongi surveys his surroundings. he’s bombarded with neon colors from every angle, which makes the store feel bigger than it actually is. from the outside, it looked cramped and dull and drab and not colorful. due to this very misleading outward appearance, yoongi immediately thinks that this is exactly the type of store that is empty seventy-five percent of the time and will most likely be out of business within the next month.

okay, it is midnight, but yoongi can tell when a store is being frequented or not, in this case: not. it’s the only possible explanation as to why his sneakers squeak so unusually loud on the unusually pristine tiles.

he strides towards the refrigerated area and for some reason, he feels a strange sense of familiarity, like he’s been here before; a type of vague awareness that comes from something like a dream.

actually, yoongi’s seen stores like this before. namjoon has a very cultured and particular sense of tumblr aesthetic and this store fits the bill perfectly.

yoongi chalks that niggling feeling as a latent reaction to all the posts he witnessed namjoon reblogging to his tumblr, as they sat on the couch on their respective phones. he’s suddenly bitter again because now, with his current situation and location , he can’t even call namjoon out for trying to be hipster because he’s too far away to even see namjoon or his stupid hipster-aesthetic-whatever tumblr in person.

yoongi spots the alcohol, finally, and grabs two - he hesitates and turns around - three bottles of the brand he likes and walks to the checkout station.

well fuck, he was hoping for a some sort of self-checkout machine - this is seoul, the largest metropolis of korea after all - but he should have known not to expect anything when he set foot inside.

god, he’s too impatient and drained and sad to deal with another human being but sucks up his feelings once again as he steps up to the counter. no one is actually there and yoongi spots a bell and rings it twice. a couple more times, more insistently, for good measure. suddenly he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. he checks and sees it’s from namjoon.

at that moment someone stumbles out of the ‘employees only’ door and utters a quick apology for making yoongi wait.

yoongi quickly glances up from the phone and sees that the cashier is a young twenty-something boy. all he sees is a mop of soft brown hair and just under it, a pair of soft brown eyes which he unwittingly makes eye contact with. but suddenly it is broken - the cashier beginning to ring up yoongi’s items, and yoongi looking back at his phone.

dance monster [12:10 am]

hyung

you’ll never guess wat happend today

me [12:10 am]

what

dance monster [12:11 am]

so u kno that tattoo i got a while back ????

me [12:11 am]

joon ur gonna have to be a little more specific

dance monster [12:11 am]

ok ok that one on my wrist !

the moon one !!1!1 !

me [12:11 am]

so...what

dance monster [12:11 am]

idek hyung like

ok fuck

this sounds so weird but like

for some reason i woke up this morning

me [12:11 am]

a goddamn miracle

dance monster [12:12 am]

shut up hyung

anyway i woke up

and now i have a new sun tattoo

me [12:12 am]

wait

what

dance monster [12:12 am]

idk !!! hyung idek wats goin on ajoer

i think it’d be better if u called me

asklejroijga

“excuse me?”

right, yoongi still needs to pay for his things. he jams his phone into his back pocket and fishes for his wallet. he awkwardly fumbles for some bills, “ah, sorry - here you go,” and all but flings them on the counter in his haste to get back to his conversation with namjoon and to go back home and avoid strangers altogether, let alone semi-attractive strangers.

it looks like his original plan of drowning in sorrow will have to be put on hold. nonetheless, he welcomes the new interruption in the form of his dear friend.

right as yoongi’s about to exit the store, the cashier calls out to him.

“um,” he pauses cutely, “nice sweater.”

yoongi looks down. it’s an old number, one that jimin got for him as a christmas present. it’s kinda not his style because it’s colorblocked - well, color in general - but it’s the first thing he found as he left his apartment and it’s oversized and it’s a gift. from jimin. so.

he looks up again and sees the exact same sweater on the cashier.

o-kay. what a coincidence.

at this moment, yoongi gets a really good look at the twenty-something cashier boy. well, as good of a look as he can seeing as half of cashier boy’s body is obscured by the counter.

the cashier is clearly taller and bigger than yoongi but the sweater still looks oversized and his fingers just barely peek out from under the sleeves. yoongi gets a good look at cashier boy’s doe eyes and button nose and his whole look just screams soft. fuck semi-attractive. this guy is possibly the most attractive guy yoongi has ever seen. the most attractive person in seoul, by far. at least to yoongi’s standards. and this is only the visible half - yoongi gulps - doesn’t even want to think about anything lower than that.

he eloquently chokes out a word. “cool.”

real smooth, min yoongi.

well, time’s up. yoongi’s just about done with social interaction and he’s itching to get home and he wants to maybe forget this whole thing because goddamn, he’s awkward and the cashier is cute.

cashier boy blinks and fuck, yoongi can see his eyelashes from here. and then, cashier boy smiles , all twinkling eyes and soft lips, “have a nice evening, sir.”

yoongi bolts out of the door.

jungkook just barely managed to keep his fluster in check. he tried to not to stare at the strange man’s silvery hair, or at his sharp profile, or at his attractive piercings, three silver hoops on each ear - fuck, since when did jungkook find piercings on anyone but himself attractive?

but the thing that caught jungkook’s attention the most was the sweater. not the fact that it was so large that it swallowed the man’s entire frame but still made the entire fit scream effortless and attractive. not the fact that the color palette complimented his silver hair.

they had the same fucking sweater?

taehyung, who is privy to jungkook’s unique tastes, had carefully chosen the very sweater as a christmas present. he claims that he happened upon it in some random thrift store and thought it screamed jungkook and bought it even though christmas wasn't for another three months.

jungkook thinks otherwise. the sweater is just. so nice. taehyung probably bought it at a non thrift shop last minute, which would explain why jungkook ran into another person also wearing it. yeah. that would explain the coincidence. it’s definitely embarrassing, but people are bound to be caught wearing the same clothes, seeing as they’re mass produced for that reason - to be worn.

as he starts cleaning up, jungkook silently thanks himself for choosing the night shifts at level supermarket because 1. he likes staying up late 2. he gets to meet interesting and colorful characters like that one sweet ahjumma with cotton candy pink hair that comes in every day at 9:36 pm sharp to buy a bag of lollipops and nothing else, for example.

jungkook’s checking the inventory for the third time - it always helps to be extra thorough - but his mind begins to wander back to that silver-haired man.

a small - admittedly very small - part of him wants to never see that man again because he was a stranger, a very attractive stranger, and jungkook acted like such a freaking loser. god he’s blushing again. but the bigger- much bigger - part of him wants to see the silver-haired man again. like, he was fucking attractive. but also something about a frustrated looking man coming in a store at midnight that hardly anyone ever comes to just.

he’s like a novel jungkook is itching to read.

jungkook just wants to know.

jungkook wants to know. jungkook wants to know how this man likes his eggs cooked. does he have any tattoos? is he a morning person? okay, maybe not that because he’s up and about at midnight.

what is his opinion on soulmates? does he listen to dean? what does his smile look like? does he like smiling? is he a smiley person? is he doing okay?

because most of all, jungkook wants to tell him that things are going to be okay. something about this man seemed - lonely and jungkook has an urge to reach out and be like, me too, i understand, i hope you’re okay.

but. jungkook shakes his head to clear the thoughts. he’s doing it again. he’s getting ahead of himself and he’s doing that fantasizing thing he tends to do. at his core, jungkook is a very kind and empathetic person and the times he does feel good about himself he wants to meet people and reach out. back at his small hometown, the people were very friendly and accepting, and this made it easy for him. and with the town being so small, eventually jungkook knew everyone and everyone knew him and he was very comfortable with this.

however, this is seoul. and after making the difficult decision to leave the comfort of his town to pursue his dreams in the form of a dance degree, jungkook has learned that not everyone feels the same way in this city.

‘city people’ he thinks with distaste - but mostly - disappointment.

jungkook closes and locks the store’s front door, as well as his hopes for seeing the silver-haired man again. he’s no stranger to how this kind of thing works. nothing good happens when he gives into wishful thinking.

as soon as yoongi is back in the safety of his apartment he calls namjoon. “joon, what’s up?”

“okay, so. like. yeah. i don’t know, hyung!” yoongi goes to open a bottle of beer, his silence prompting namjoon to continue.

“i just woke up and now i have a new sun tattoo on my wrist! honestly, it looks pretty good paired with the one i already have of the crescent moon.”

“well, as long as you’re happy with it joon, i guess it’s cool.” yoongi takes a long gulp, “could’ve been worse. could’ve woken up with the word ‘penis’ tattooed in large letters instead.”

namjoon cackles heartily and yoongi smiles at the sound. “yeah, you’re right hyung.” he laughs again, “this is like some weird soulmate shit.

yoongi elegantly swallows some beer down the wrong airway. “yeah,” he coughs a few times to clear his throat, “come to think of it-,”

on second thought, maybe yoongi will keep cashier boy to himself. what happened earlier that night still felt - unreal. yoongi feels like he’ll break the enigmatic anonymity of the attractive cashier boy if he says anything.

“hyung?”

“no, nothing. nevermind,” yoongi changes the subject, “how’s that new track going?” and namjoon enthusiastically explains his progress.

the next day, yoongi finds himself slouched at his desk, pen tossed somewhere to the side. he’s looking down at what he can only call organized chaos atop his desk. this is usually how his song production process starts anyway. he scans some of the lyrics he just scribbled all over and he sees stuff like ‘ enigma and mystique ’ and ‘ eyes that hold stars ’ and ‘ deer in headlights... i’m struck by your beauty mystery loveliness- ’

uh-huh. yup. okay. yoongi stands up and gathers all those loose leaf papers in a pile and goes to deposit them in the wastebin.

he pauses and throws them in a random drawer in his nightstand.

he needs to get out. he grabs his leather jacket draped across the back of his desk chair and power walks his way out of his apartment.

yoongi finds himself wandering the city again and wait. it’s that store again. what the fuck? did he just subconsciously make his way to back to the store and it’s attractive cashier-

shit. yoongi sees said cashier boy through the front windows, presumably stocking a shelf. he gets up and starts walking back to the counter, but as he’s doing that his body faces the front doors, which probably puts yoongi in his plain sight.

yoongi quickly backpedals, hoping he hasn’t been spotted.

he stands in place for a beat.

he refuses to acknowledge how hard his heart is hammering.

after much internal debate, yoongi decides that fuck it. he’s already here and he sees a huge jar of cheese puffs from where he’s standing and he might as well get that. because. he needs. inspiration.

he walks in, trying his best to put confidence in his steps and not looking at the cashier - who is now sitting at the counter with earphones and bobbing his head to a beat and is he humming?

yoongi walks down the chip aisle, deciding that he needs to have different flavors on hand when he gets tired of the cheese puffs.

over the top of the aisle, yoongi can see cashier boy stretching and fuck. his shoulders look good in that leather jacket too.

yoongi reaches the end of the aisle and is about to stroll into the next one, but almost trips on his shoelaces of his black converse. he kneels down and glances at the counter, seeing that the cashier is now standing. they make awkward eye contact and yoongi quickly goes back to tying his own shoelace, not before seeing a flash of black converses disappearing behind the counter.

when yoongi goes to pay for his items, cashier boy has taken off the leather jacket, leaving him in a simple white tee with a simple supreme logo. and now his incredibly toned biceps are out on display. wow. is it getting hot in here? yoongi sees the veins in cashier boy’s arms when they flex to hold the large container of cheese puffs. yoongi gulps.

it’s too hot - yoongi strips off his own leather jacket and slings it over an arm. eyes looking anywhere but the cashier, he taps his foot and waits for cashier boy to state the price and yoongi can pay and then he can leave.

except. cashier boy hasn’t said anything for a little while. yoongi chances a quick glance upwards. cashier boy is staring at - yoongi’s chest? fuck, did he wear his kumamon jammies out or something?

but like, if this boy has something against kumamon, yoongi has a serious bone to pick with him.

yoongi glances down at his own shirt. then back up at cashier boy. then back at his own shirt.

weird. yoongi’s wearing a supreme shirt. cashier boy’s wearing one too. cashier boy squints, like he’s suspicious of yoongi or something.

yoongi clears his throat, “uh - can i pay for my things?”

this seems to shake the cashier out of whatever stupor he’s in, “ah - sorry.”

yoongi pays for his things and goes to grab the bag the cashier is holding out for him to take. yoongi overshoots a little; okay, maybe he’s a little flustered and accidently knocks his hand against the cashier’s.

there’s a little clink as yoongi’s ring bumps against cashier boy’s.

okay. fuck. they’re wearing matching rings too?

they both face each other with similar looks of shock and confusion. before either of them have a chance to say anything, yoongi books it out of there real quick.

something weird is going on and jungkook doesn’t know what to do.

he’s just minding his own business, listening to offonoff’s new album while doing his math homework at the register to keep an eye on the store in case anyone does come in. it’s midnight but still.

then, jungkook sees movement in the corner of his eyes and realizes that someone has come in without him noticing.

it’s the silver-haired man again. and shit, he looks really good. he’s standing in front of the snack shelf, with his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and he’s wearing this large leather jacket.

jungkook does not salivate.

but wait. jungkook looks down at himself. how is he also wearing a leather jacket?

it must be another fluke. jungkook hurriedly stands up and takes his jacket off, pacing around for a bit.

he looks over at the silver-haired man again and sees him tying his right shoelace.

jungkook looks down at his shoes.

his left shoelace is untied.

a mixture of mild horror and panic starts thrumming through his body, but he refuses to tie his shoelaces and resumes his nervous pacing.

he turns around and jumps slightly. the silver haired man is right in front of him, fidgeting with his hair.

jungkook goes to ring up his purchases, which are all comprised of various family size chip bags. he goes to ring up the last item, a jumbo container of cheese puffs, and pauses. the silver-haired man has taken off his leather jacket and. why. is he wearing a supreme shirt. like jungkook.

jungkook stares dumbfoundedly at that stupid supreme logo and the man’s prominent collarbones before he clears his throat and asks for jungkook to ring up the total.

right. jungkook hurriedly bags everything and thrusts them towards the man, hoping he’ll leave quickly.

the man accidentally knocks his hand against jungkook’s and this time jungkook does not hide his shock.

you've got to be fucking kidding. they have matching rings. it's like they're a couple or something.

what. is happening.

the next night after his shift at the local coffee shop, yoongi actively seeks out level convenience store, as well as its resident attractive cashier. he’s wearing this ostentatious, bright yellow, furry thing. it’s so. loud. and lowkey ugly. hence the reason why he’s out at night.

however, yoongi swears his sweater is bright enough that he’s probably glowing in the dark.

but, yoongi also needs to prove a point. whatever cosmic fuckery is going on, whatever deity is fucking with him, yoongi just wants to prove to himself that this is all bullshit. running into a cute stranger repeatedly is enough, and yoongi doesn’t need any other unexplainable shit happening.

jungkook is tapping his foot, a habit of his that surfaces only when he’s nervous or anxious. jungkook is definitely focusing on math homework and definitely not looking out for a certain silver-haired stranger.

he rubs his nose with the sleeve of his sweater and almost sneezes. geez. jungkook had asked taehyung to lend him his craziest article of clothing at the moment, seeing as taehyung’s fashion style is overall - crazy. so, taehyung tossed him the first thing he laid eyes on in his closet, and it was this gucci sweater. gucci my ass, jungkook thinks. this sweater is just a very good excuse to cosplay as big bird.

jungkook just wants to figure out what is going on. like, he meets some cute stranger and-

holy shit. he sees said stranger standing outside on the sidewalk.

okay, somebody up there must hate jungkook because - he looks down at himself just to make sure - both of them are once again, matching.

like, how does the stranger still look striking in such an ugly sweater?

jungkook can only stare as the stranger swiftly turns around and bolts down the street.

yoongi slams the door of his apartment closed, breathing heavily. he looks through the peephole to make sure no one had followed him. he’s not taking any chances.

that’s it. something is up and yoongi’s solution is to - hole himself up in his apartment.

wait, can he do that? oh yeah, it’s friday. and he doesn’t have any shifts until monday. fantastic. he can devote himself wholeheartedly to his unfinished tracks over the weekend.

yoongi wakes up saturday afternoon, but allows himself the luxury of lounging around in bed for a few more hours. this effectively brings the start of his day well into saturday evening. he fishes around for some spare instant ramen packets, and begins working as soon as he gives himself some salty sustenance.

his weekend goes by like this: immersing himself with writing lyrics and producing elementary beats for a few straight hours and then taking short naps in between. he eats if he remembers. or if namjoon reminds him.

all in all, he does a good job of not thinking about the weird stuff that’s been going on, and especially about the soft-looking cashier boy.

except.

yoongi stumbles out of his bedroom, finally succumbing to his stomach’s urges, as well as namjoon’s rapid texts.

he fumbles around for a cup of ramen - his last one, he’ll have to refill - and goes to find a scissor to cut off the plastic wrap.

his fingers slip and he ends up cutting himself.

he sighs as he looks down at his bleeding finger. he dabs at it lightly to try to clear away the blood, but it just keeps oozing out. he grabs a tissue and presses on the fresh wound, waiting for it to clot, but the blood just keeps coming.

what the heck? he didn’t cut himself that hard.

ah, shit. he doesn’t have any bandaids.

he checks his phone. 2:55 am. is there a store open at this hour-

there might be one.

before yoongi thinks about it too hard, he wraps a clean tissue around his finger and books it out of his apartment. he’s not about to hold a tissue around his finger for the rest of the night to keep it from getting infected.

as he fast-walks to level convenience store, yoongi thinks about cashier boy again for the first time in awhile (a couple days.) maybe whatever matchy-matchy curse or spell or shit is over, since yoongi hadn’t seen or even thought about the boy. wow. an achievement.

cashier boy probably isn’t even there, seeing as it’s so late.

whatever, yoongi just needs to grab some bandaids and then he’s out.

he heads into the store, notices that the register is unattended, and goes to grab a box of bandaids. while he’s at it, he stops by the ramen aisle to refill his stock.

as he makes his way to the register, he sees someone now sitting behind the counter. yoongi stops in his tracks. it’s cashier boy. he looks as stunning as ever. and he’s fiddling with one of his fingers, which happens to be bandaged. he looks up and only then does yoongi continue walking towards him.

none of them say anything as cashier boy rings up his items, but he does raise his eyebrows slightly when he notices the blood-soaked tissue around yoongi’s finger.

after he pays, yoongi doesn’t leave right away. instead, he rips open the box of bandaids and slaps one around his finger.

“how did you hurt yourself?”

holy shit, even cashier boy’s voice is attractive - what the fuck - with a soft, lilting tone to it.

“uh, i cut myself trying to get some ramen.” god he sounds stupid.

“wait, really?” cashier boy’s doe eyes widen - yoongi sees his eyelashes, - “me too! i was doing inventory and had to refill some ramen for the shelves and yeah.” he gesticulates with his injured finger.

yoongi is silent for a moment. they even have matching wounds.

“this shit is real, isn't it?”

cashier boy tilts his head. “oh. you mean the weird clothes thing-”

the lights in the store flicker and then suddenly fade out completely.

yoongi panics for a second as his eyes adjust to the darkness, but that initial shock instantly goes away as soon as he sees cashier boy’s big eyes reflecting the street lights outside.

he finishes cashier boy’s sentence. “...yeah. the weird clothes-matching thing.”

“well, my best explanation is that the universe continually derives pleasure from fucking with me.” cashier boy pauses, “n-not that it's always a negative thing! i mean, this time wasn't so bad!” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “i-you - sorry! i didn't mean to make that sound like an insult to you.”

yoongi chuckles, “hey, it's fine. the universe likes fucking with me too.”

cashier boy shyly ducks his head.

yoongi looks around the store, now shrouded in complete darkness. “should we maybe find the fuse box or something..?”

cashier boy sits down on his stool. “nah, it’s fine. this happens quite often, actually. i don’t even know why you bother coming here when there are plenty of 7-eleven’s,” he sighs, “this store is pretty shitty and rundown.”

“i don’t know. i kinda like the warm, colorful vibe.” yoongi thinks, also, it’s because you’re here.

“well, the longest the power’s been out was like, thirty minutes.” cashier boy unlocks his phone and begins scrolling through, “um - you’re free to leave..? i have everything under control.”

yoongi makes no move to leave and hops up to sit atop the counter. in doing so, he’s inevitably brought himself closer to cashier boy. when yoongi turns his head, he sees cashier boy up close, ensconced in moonlight, the contours of his face highlighted by shadows.

yoongi stares at cashier boy’s dark eyes, and at his eyelashes as they fan across his cheeks when he blinks slowly.

yoongi’s eyes are immediately drawn to his lips when he worries them between his teeth. if they begin leaning into each other’s orbit, none of them are the wiser.

suddenly, yoongi feels a sharp sting on his forearm. at the same time, cashier boy jerks away, hissing in pain.

something is etching itself into yoongi’s skin and he squeezes his arm to try to take away some of the pain.

his arm is still searing when the lights flicker back on.

“god, what the fuck was that-” yoongi looks down at his right arm, all red and puffy, and sees a tattoo.

it's a lock.

yoongi looks up in shock.

cashier boy has a similar look on his face. and on his left arm, is a tattoo of a key.

there's still specks of blood on cashier boy's fresh tattoo and yoongi grabs a nearby napkin and slowly dabs on it.

cashier boy flinches slightly, but yoongi places a hand on his upper arm to comfort him, to ground him. yoongi traces the boy’s tattoo lightly with his thumb and looks back at his own. a perfect match.

“i’m yoongi. min yoongi.”

cashier boy smiles softly. “jungkook.”

me [12:01 pm}

joon

quick question

so like

did anything weird happen

before ur tattoo appeared

dance monster [12:15 pm]

i mean

not that i can think of ??

hyung just cuz u and jungkook had some storybook soulmate romance doesn't mean smt like that happened to me

me [12:32 pm]

well what happened that day

dance monster [12:44 pm]

nothing really

i just had a study session with jin

me [12:49 pm]

‘study’

what exactly were u two studying

dance monster [12:50 pm]

hyung

need i remind u that jin is my metaphysics and epistemology tutor and wait wat were we studying ?

oh yea !!!

~metaphysics and epistemology~

me [1:00 pm]

you think he's cute, don't you

dance monster [1:05 pm]

im not answering that

me [1:06 pm]

im sensing a blush

dance monster [1:10 pm]

actually

now that i think about it

i came into that session late that day

as i was leaving my apartment i somehow

hit my knee on the doorframe

and fell

and dropped all my stuff

left a nasty bruise

also got a paper cut across my right palm as i was tryna pick up all the books in a hurry

me [1:16 pm]

you would

i fuckin bet smt like that happened to jin

hello

joon?

yoongi is rudely awakened by big bang’s ‘bang bang bang’ - why did he let his boyfriend pick his ringtone?

said boyfriend stirs in his sleep, burying his face deeper into yoongi’s shoulder and wrapping his arms tighter around yoongi’s waist. “mmph - hyung. make it stop. let’s nap more.”

yoongi turns his head and places a kiss atop jungkook’s forehead, “sorry baby. just let me take this real quick.”

he blindly grabs around for his cell phone and sees namjoon’s caller id lighting up.

“what.”

“hyung! what the fuck. what is happening.”

yoongi groans. “yes, what is happening. please enlighten me.”

“me and jin have matching bruises! even cuts and everything! i met up with him today and remember that cut i got on my palm? he had one too, and then we realized we have the same injuries!”

yoongi tries to process this information as fast as he can with a sleep-addled brain. “so, he’s a masochist?”

“no! god, no. he’s the one with the sun tattoo! remember how my sun tattoo appeared? well, he’s the one that had it, and he said that a moon tattoo appeared on him! like mine! hyung, we’re matching!”

“well, congratulations.” yoongi sounds grumpy, but he means it. “though i feel bad for jin. you’re a fucking klutz. don’t kill him before you ask him out officially.” he yawns. “i’m going back to sleep.”

with that, yoongi hangs up and turns back to wrap himself around jungkook.

“hyung, what was that about?” jungkook murmurs with his eyes still closed.

“nothing. just some weird soulmate shit.” he buries his nose in jungkook’s fragrant hair. “let’s go back to sleep.” ~

#bts #bts fic #suga #yoongi #jungkook #soulmate #soulmate!au #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoonkook #sugakookie #mine

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deertrackgolfclub · 6 years

Text

Tiger Woods’ strong finish, Jordan Spieth and Patrick Reed squash their beef and a costly rules controversy: What you missed this weekend

Welcome to the Dew Sweeper, your one-stop shop to catch up on the weekend action from the golf world. From the professional tours, trending news, social media headlines and upcoming events, here’s every golf-related thing you need to know for the morning of Jan. 28.

Rose continues historic tear Justin Rose became No. 1 for the first time in his career last season. Don’t expect the Englishman to cede the title anytime soon.

The 38-year-old turned in a three-under 69 to win the Farmers Insurance Open by two over Adam Scott.

It was far from a Sunday stroll on the front, with Rose stumbling to the tune of three bogeys in the first five holes, and a par on the par-5 fifth did little to alleviate concerns. However, he righted the ship with birdies on the seventh, ninth and 10th holes, subtracting any drama from Torrey Pines’ closing stretch.

“A couple things that didn’t go my way and then it starts to look and feel a bit shaky for sure,” Rose said. “But I always felt somewhat in control. I did a good job today of staying patient and never panicking. I think that was probably a bit of experience coming through that wouldn’t have been the same.”

Experience is putting it lightly. This sounds bombastic, but the numbers back it up: Rose has been downright Woods-ian since the end of 2017. Torrey Pines marked his 15th top-3 finish in the last two years, and his 13th top-10 finish in his last 17 starts. The only thing missing from his 24-month tear is a major, his 2013 triumph at Merion enduring as his lone victory on the big stage.

Of course, he’s currently the Masters favorite. You better believe Jim Nantz is practicing, “A Rose blooms at Augusta!” victory calls.

Tiger finishes with strong Sunday in first 2019 start There was rust, which was to be expected. And his putter didn’t get the memo that hibernation was over. But Tiger Woods’ first outing of the 2019 season, while not memorable, was constructive, highlighted by a final-round 67.

“I think this whole week was good, very positive,” Woods said. “I didn’t quite start out the way I wanted to this week, wasn’t as sharp as I wanted to be, but each and every day it got a little better.”

On the surface, a T-20 finish for Woods should be of little consequence. This was Torrey Pines, after all, Tiger’s de facto stomping grounds, and off that breathtaking finish to 2018, the 43-year-old’s continued comeback is past the point of moral victories.

In that same breath, save for the flat stick, his performance was impressive (10th in strokes gained/tee-to-green), especially so given he had new sticks in the bag. That he hit over 55 percent of fairways on the week, versus 30 percent in his return last year (worst in the field), underlines he’s coming out of the gates in a more formidable fashion than a season ago.

Besides, as Woods noted, the goal is to build towards a certain tournament in the spring.

“If you look at where I was Thursday and look at where I’m at now, Sunday, I got a little bit better,” Woods said. “I drove the ball better, hit my irons a litle bit cleaner. Again, I hit some good putts. Just continue with the track. I have a couple more months of prep before April [and the Masters], so things are heading in the right direction.”

Woods is off the next two weeks before his next scheduled start in the Genesis Open at Riviera.

Spieth, Reed squash beef Fans were expecting—perhaps even hoping for—an icy exchange. At minimum, it promised to be awkward.

Instead, the tension quickly surrendered to a show of détente.

Jordan Spieth and Patrick Reed were paired together on Saturday, the first time they’ve teed it up since the reigning Masters champ took a flamethrower to the three-time major winner in a post-Ryder Cup interview. The strained relationship, with an origin story straight out of a comic book, ostensibly gave golf something it hasn’t had in quite some time: a genuine villain, and discord between two of its stars.

While the former holds, the latter was distinguished by Spieth, who greeted his former American teammate with a hug on the first tee:

Jordan Spieth and Patrick Reed.

Hugging it out. pic.twitter.com/NiMx9IawC1

— PGA TOUR (@PGATOUR) January 26, 2019

Frazier-Ali, this is not.

“Yeah, I laughed,” Spieth said. “I think he did, too. It was more sarcasm towards y’all (media). We’ve seen each other plenty of times at Sony and here and everything’s been the way it normally is. We knew the cameras were on and we knew people were interested in that, so I just thought it would be kind of funny.”

Added Reed: “Literally when we got off the plane (from Paris) it was old news and we all moved on from there.” Granted, that doesn’t jive with what Reed said in December—he told the New York Post that if Spieth wanted to smooth things out, “He has my number”—but hey, all for revisionist history in the name of love.

In one sense, probably for the best that this strife, real or imagined, was defused. It makes for a juicy narrative, yes, particularly in a sport that’s guilty of being overly neighborly. But a player of Spieth’s prestige doesn’t need to be riddled with such nonsense, the acidity outweighing any possible benefits to the rivalry.

And rest assured, a potential Spieth victory at Augusta National—remember, Reed would be the one awarding the green jacket—remains just as tantalizing.

Bryson wins for fourth time in nine starts On Saturday, Bryson DeChambeau claimed he was “just not 100 percent with my golf game.” This after acknowledging on Friday he didn’t have the right sensations and “proprioception”—for those sans dictionary, that’s the the sense of the relative position of one’s own parts of the body and strength of effort being employed in movement—over his shots.

That lack of symphony matter nada.

The World No. 5 cruised to his fifth victory in the last eight months—and fourth in his last nine starts—in Dubai, dropping a Sunday 64 to win the Omega Desert Classic by seven shots. A display even the Mad Scientist had to appreciate.

“Today I was happy with my game. I executed a lot of great shots,” DeChambeau said. “It’s a lot of hard work with my caddie, really grinding and trying to figure out how to take account of all the variables out there—air pressure, firmness values, mile-per-hour on the speed, putts and ball speed, spin rates. We’re trying to figure out as much as possible so I can be as successful as possible, and obviously it’s shown.”

Has it ever. This time last year DeChambeau was barely inside the top 100, his curious ways mostly ridiculed. Now he’s one of the game’s biggest names, a marquee attraction for all the right reasons.

His detractors, of which there are many, still deem his divergent methods fit for a looney bin. Or maybe they’re just blinded by the glare off DeChambeau’s ever-growing trophy case.

A costly, and dubious, rules controversy Even by the notorious rigidity of the Rules of Golf, this is cold-blooded.

In his final round in Dubai, Haotong Li was hit with a two-shot penalty on the final hole because…his caddie was lined up behind putt. A new rule specifies that from the time a player “begins to take a stance for the stroke” until the stroke is made, a caddie “must not deliberately stand on or close to an extension of the line of play behind the ball for any reason.” As Ryan Herrington notes, Li could have avoided the penalty had he backed off the stroke and retaken his stance.

However, video puts the validity of that penalty into question, as Li is barely into the stance in question:

@EuropeanTour this is a marginal interpretation of the new Rule 10.2b @haotong_li good playing. pic.twitter.com/jNxT0aokxj

— Brian McKinley (@brijon5555) January 27, 2019

And you thought the Saints-Rams refs were bad.

The penalty dropped Li from a T-3 to a T-12 finish, which translated to loss of $100,000 in earnings. Li did not speak to reporters afterwards. Not that he needed to; that replay idiotically speaks for itself.

Source: golfdigest.com

The post Tiger Woods’ strong finish, Jordan Spieth and Patrick Reed squash their beef and a costly rules controversy: What you missed this weekend appeared first on Deer Track.

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gamesmakers · 6 years

Text

Shadows and Light

Katniss Everdeen wants nothing more than to wait out the latest galactic conflict, to someday leave her days of smuggling behind to go home to Panem. But when the Confederacy puts a bounty out on her sister and childhood friend, she finds herself at the center of events she never could have imagined. Star Wars AU.

This is an old story that I’m hoping to get back to very soon. Cross-posted on FFN and AO3.

Prologue

She laid the cards before her with a grace that only years of practice could provide. The leftmost came first. The Evil One. Flipping the center revealed the Destroyed Starship. The air suddenly went cold around her. The woman blew out the candle beside her, for the galaxy held some things the light should never touch. Lit only by the sliver of moonlight that crept into her room, she reached for the last card, her hand trembling.

"The Evil One, the Destroyed Starship, and the Queen of Air and Darkness," she whispered into the night. "The Evil One, the Destroyed Starship, and the Queen of Air and Darkness." The woman repeated it again and again, backing away from the cards, her fingers tangling in her dark hair. When her back hit the wall, she sank to the ground. "The Evil One, the Destroyed Starship, and the Queen of Air and Darkness." As her knees came up to her chest and her whispers morphed into hysterics, the moon slipped behind the clouds, leaving her with only the darkness for comfort.

The Evil One

Kuat City, Kuat

Rough hands pulled her back, and she felt the cool metal of a blaster barrel against her forehead. "One wrong move, Everdeen, and I'll blast your brains out." The alley had been a bad idea. If she had to get shot, she could at least get shot in a place that didn't reek of fish and where every shadow did not house a different species of vermin.

"I don't have the money, Clove."

"Just the answer I was hoping for." The grip tightened, fingernails digging into the skin of her upper arm, but the woman still did not shoot. Clove always had liked to play with her food.

Katniss' hand crept down towards where her own weapon was stored in a thigh holster. "I'll have it soon, though. We've got this run set up, nice and easy, quick money. We can pay your boss as soon as we -"

"Touch that blaster, and you die."

She raised her right hand. This would be easier if she could see the bounty hunter, but Clove remained behind her, one arm keeping Katniss immobilized while the other kept a blaster at her temple.

"You're out of tricks. That's what you said last time," the bounty hunter continued. "You get the money to me now, today, or you're not gonna live long enough to make that run." Her finger tightened on the trigger, and for a moment, Katniss was certain she was about to die. She steeled herself as best she could, but the shot never came. "You're dealing with dangerous people, Everdeen, and you're way out of your league. You can't really think Cray's going to let you rip him off like that, can you?"

Clove stood a few inches taller than Katniss, and she had a bit more muscle to her as well. Katniss would have a hard time fighting her off. But perhaps, if she played her cards right, it wouldn't come to that. "The job's worth more than I owe. Tell Cray I'll pay him an extra ten percent."

"And how do I know you're not going to run off with the money? I don't even know that this is a real job."

"Would I lie to you about something like this?" The woman spun her around so that they faced each other. Much to Katniss' disappointment, through the entire process, Clove never let go of her arm. She responded with a lopsided grin."Tell you what. We can make an easy ten percent extra for Cray. I know he wants to crack down on people, but he's a businessman first. He won't wanna lose out on a chance like this one. See, Gale and I'll take a loss on this one. Eat the costs ourselves, pass the extra on to you personally. Three thousand, way more than Cray'll pay for me."

The woman wasn't wearing her full armor today. Katniss could understand that. This part of Kuat was far more genteel than the areas she had become accustomed to these last few years. In neighborhoods like this one, where the city planted flowers along the paths and the only places you could get a drink were trendy wine bars with nothing for less than twelve, maybe fifteen credits, body armor did tend to make one stick out. So did carrying two BlasTechs and wearing a chest plate, but Katniss wasn't about to point that out to her. "You'd better be honest about –"

She heard the shot being fired and the scream at the same time, and for a precious few milliseconds, she wasn't sure which had come first. But Katniss' instincts had been honed through years of living on the edge of the law, and her body moved without her mind's conscious involvement. She swung for Clove's unprotected abdomen, her elbow connecting with the soft flesh there. Before she fully realized what she was doing, Katniss began to scan the area, blaster in hand, searching for other potential attackers. Spotting nothing, she turned back to see Clove lying on the ground, her face already ashen and still.

"Katniss!"

Ignoring the man's voice, she kicked away Clove's two blasters before kneeling down next to the other woman. She watched her face for any trace of motion and, seeing none, grabbed her wrist to check for a pulse. "Gale, you didn't have to do that. I had it under control."

"She had you immobilized and staring down the end of her blaster. I don't think that counts as being in control." He had just killed a woman. He shouldn't sound so collected and in control.

"I was going to buy her off!"

"And now you don't have to. Come on, let's get out of here. If Clove's here, Cato can't be far behind."

He tugged on her sleeve, and Katniss pushed him away. "Don't touch me."

Gale shrugged. "Fine, Catnip. But I'm not going to apologize for killing Clove when she had her blaster to your forehead."

"Then you can apologize for the fact that neither of us will be able to show our faces anywhere in the system again. This isn't some seedy tapcaf. The people that live here keep flowerbeds in a city where land goes for ten thousand credits per square meter. You really think they don't have holocams watching us right now? Think the authorities haven't been alerted already?"

"Then that's all the more reason to get out of here. Come on."

She couldn't argue with that, so she followed him, almost having to run to keep up with his brisk pace. Already, she could see well-dressed Kuati watching them, a few of their mouths hanging wide open while children or pets begged for their attention. More worryingly, she spotted a handful with tall, muscular non-humans behind them. Given how paranoid the Kuati could be, she would bet anything they were bodyguards. Though, she supposed, considering that their most recent run had been for a Kuati judge high enough up on the food chain that she could afford to have close to three million credits worth of high-quality glitterstim delivered directly to her, maybe they were right to be concerned. What mattered right now was that one or two pointed hand-held holocams in their direction.

Katniss nodded to Gale, and they turned down a side street. Her knees pounded and every strike of foot against duracrete made the split in her side scream, but they couldn't stop yet. "Find a speeder to hotwire, and let's get out of here," she gasped.

She had hardly finished her sentence when Gale grabbed her arm. "This one. C'mon." He hopped into the driver's seat of the roofless model, and a few deft movements later, he had the engine roaring to life beneath them.

District 12, Panem

The lines of the ledger sheet ran together as he studied the document. Peeta tapped his pen against the counter in time with the whirring of the fan above. Though he kept every window open, the summer always brought weeks of heat and humidity to the district, and the oven only made the heat even more unbearable.

An excuse to look away from the ledger came when the bell above the door rang. "Good afternoon."

"Afternoon, Peeta." Darius tossed him a lazy half-salute as he stepped inside, allowing the screen door to slam shut behind him. "How you doing today?"

"Hot, but I'm doing all right. How 'bout you? What can I help you with today?"

The Peacekeeper peeled a piece of flimsi off the top of the pile he carried and handed it to Peeta. "You got a place to hang this up? I've got to get them up in all the businesses in this part of town."

EXTENDED CURFEW HOURS

2000 TO 0600 HOURS

INCREASED PENALTIES STRICTLY ENFORCED

Peeta did his best to keep his voice steady. "Sure, will over there work?" He nodded towards the far wall.

"Yeah, I think it should. Mind if I use the glue, or do you have something else you'd like me to use?"

"The glue's fine." Peeta watched as Darius got to work. "Can I get you something to drink? I've got some lemonade, if you'd like any."

"Yes, please. It's like a furnace out there. I don't know how you stand it in here all day."

"You get used to it after a while." He fetched the pitcher of lemonade from the cooler, savoring the blast of cold air it released when opened. When he returned to the front, Darius sat at the counter, waiting for him. Once two tall glasses had been poured, the real conversation could begin. "Two hours on both sides is sure going to be a pinch on us. Think you'll be making some exceptions? I need to be at the bakery by five hundred hours at the latest to get the ovens up and running."

"Can't you old man do it? He's still living upstairs, isn't he?"

"He is, but my mother hasn't been well, and he can't leave her alone for an hour. Rye and I have been pretty well running the place for the last few months." He took a long drink of lemonade. Outside, he could hear children playing. Peeta couldn't help but wonder how soon that sound might become foreign.

"Sorry to hear that, mate. I wish I could help, but I'm not allowed to grant exceptions. You could try and bring it up with Commander Thread."

"Do you think it'd help?" The look on Darius' face told him the answer. Instead, he tried a different approach. "It says there are increased punishments. Are they raising the fines?"

Darius winced. "Don't be out past curfew, and you won't find out." He drained the rest of his glass. "Thanks for the lemonade, Peeta, but I've got to get going. The commander wants all of these in place before the formal announcement tonight. Take care of yourself, all right?"

"You too, Darius." He showed the man out, waving to the children that played tag in the square. Though it was only early afternoon, he flipped the sign from open to closed and locked the door. He read the sign over once more before he returned to the back to start the day's clean up.

Im'g'twe Hills, Geonosis

The rocky hills not far outside Geonosis' capital city held many secrets. Orange spires dozens of stories tall stabbed into the sky, while at their bases, meter-long, six-legged lizards scurried into the shadows as she passed. With their collective love of blood sports, the Geonosians had hunted the most dangerous beasts of these hills to extinction hundreds of years ago. But as Johanna had learned over the last three days of trekking, even without its native monsters, Geonosis could still be deadly. Winds that reached ninety, perhaps a hundred kilometers per hour whipped at her face, sending sand and dirt hurtling towards her eyes and mouth. She sported hundreds of tiny cuts where the jagged pieces had ripped at both her clothing and the skin underneath.

Though her throat was parched, Johanna hesitated to drink the few precious drops of water that remained in her canteen. She had found a spring the first day, but since then, there had been no water to be seen. There had to be water somewhere, because otherwise the lizards would not be able to live here, but it was well-hidden.

At the low, dull roar of an engine, Johanna pressed herself into one of the crevices in the rock formation. The ship flew low over the hills, far lower than there should be any reason to. According to her maps, there wasn't another settlement for eighty kilometers in that direction.

But maps, particularly official ones, often neglected to mention the most interesting features. Seven years in Intelligence had taught her that. She grabbed her macrobinoculars from her equipment belt and trained them on the ship. Johanna watched in amazement as a hole easily a hundred meters wide opened up in the ground, easily swallowing the freighter before disappearing again.

She typed a short request for backup into her datapad. Johanna had little doubt of her ability to get into the facility, but nobody hid hangars underground and kilometers away from civilization if they wanted them to be found. Getting out - and living to tell the tale - might be more of a challenge. She had better get on with it, then. Johanna pressed her cheek against the cool stone for just a moment, savoring the partial relief it gave from the sun, tightened the straps on her supply pack, and stepped out of her hiding spot. The hangar couldn't have been more than six or seven kilometers away. She could be there by nightfall and off this Force-forsaken world by morning.

By the time she reached the clearing, Johanna's legs quaked beneath her with every step. Though she was burning up, she hadn't sweat in hours. Johanna knew the symptoms of dehydration, had sat through hours of lectures on what to do in these situations, but she couldn't stop now. Air patrols swept the area at least every half hour, and she had dodged more than one ground force in the last two kilometers. She took that as a sign that she was honing in on her target. Excellent.

She stopped when she reached the clearing. This was going to be the tricky part. Though she couldn't spot any obvious holocams or guard stations, there had to be eyes watching, guarding this place. Nobody would build a hangar out here if they weren't going to protect it from prying eyes. Her vision swam, and unconsciousness beckoned to her, inviting, but Johanna forced herself to focus on the area before her. One couldn't make a perfectly invisible hangar. There must be a seam, a crack, a control panel, something that a well-trained eye could pick up on. And perhaps, had dusk not been fading into night around her, there might have been, but she could see nothing.

Johanna had largely given up on finding the entrance before her backup arrived when she noticed movement on the far side of the clearing. Making sure she was well within the shadow of the spire above, she watched through her macrobinoculars as eight Geonosians emerged from an entryway that had appeared the ground. The eight filed out two by two, maintaining their formation as they headed out in the opposite direction from where she sat. That'd be the next set of guards, then. Good to know.

She waited until they disappeared, then edged her way along the perimeter of the clearing. It took her several minutes to make her way to the entrance. Now that she knew the door's location, it seemed impossible that she had not noticed it earlier. From this angle, the seam in the ground was clearly visible, and it took her only a moment to locate the button that opened the door. A blast of cool air hit her as she descended down the pedramp, and after spending three days out in the heat, she was tempted to stay and enjoy it. Maybe she could find some water down here and…

No, the mission came first. It was a miracle the Geonosians hadn't discovered her presence already; she couldn't tempt fate by wasting any time.

She wandered through long, meandering hallways of the same red stone as the rock formations above. Created for the insectoid Geonosians, even a small human like Johanna had to stoop in the tight space. She kept hold of her blaster at all times, ready for any signs of movement. In the distance, she heard clanging, grinding, the sounds of industry, heavy manufacturing. After rounding one more corner, the cramped space opened up into a huge cavern. Johanna found herself on a catwalk above an enormous assembly line. Workers poured liquid metal into molds in time with a mechanical stamp. The chamber stretched on for as far as she could see in every direction, and the entire area was consumed in a hive of activity. Johanna traced through the steps of production, from wiring to stamping to molding, back for another round of wiring, and so on. With the exception of scale, it was nothing she had not seen before. But when she craned her neck back, she could see rows upon rows of the final product, and it made her blood run cold.

Battle droids, hundreds of them. And that had to be just today's creations, for as she watched, fifty, a hundred more came off the assembly lines. How many could this facility produce in a week, a month? No world needed those kinds of forces for self-defense alone.

Johanna grabbed the holocam from her belt. With fumbling hands, she turned it on and trained it on the lines below. "This is Agent Johanna Mason, reporting from the Im'g'twe Hills region of Geonosis, coordinates one-seven-niner-niner-three-eight. I have found an unregistered underground factory that produces battle droids." Right now, even the act of talking made her stomach churn, and she worried she would collapse where she stood. Not certain what else to say, Johanna guided the lens towards the finished droids. Her hand froze of its own accord.

Her eyes widened, and she tried to retreat back into the shadows, but her body remained frozen. A horrible buzzing filled her mind, insectoid chittering that drowned out any rational thought besides the searing pain in her hand. Johanna's knees crumpled beneath her, and the last thing she remembered was the pool of liquid metal that had once been her holocam burning through the flesh of her palm.

District 12, Panem

After that day, the new decrees came quickly. Longer hours in the mines. Increased quotas. Lower pay. Limited permissible travel between the main town and the outlying villages. Frictions rose along with the temperatures. Old disputes between neighbors, unpaid debts that hadn't been mentioned in years, any excuse for a fight got tempers flared up in the once-peaceful district. Peeta tried not to think of the daily scuffles as foreshocks, but everyone realized the big one had to be coming soon.

The situation had been bad for business. Before the pay cuts, a few of the better-to-do miners had bought their bread from the bakery, and a handful even made a weekly habit of picking up a treat or two. But when you never knew if today was the last day you'd be able to afford to feed your family, bakery bread seemed too large a luxury for anyone. Still, Rye showed up as early as he could in the mornings to fire up the ovens, and Peeta stayed late every evening to get every customer they could. Today he'd baked only five loaves, less than a tenth what he would before the decrees, and at closing time, three of them still sat before him.

He ripped a chunk off and stuffed it into his mouth. At least it tasted good. Peeta wrapped one of the others up in a clean cloth for Rye in the morning. The third, he took with him for his parents as he headed upstairs. The new decrees had made it impossible for him to fulfill his obligations at the bakery while continuing to live on his own. It saved him some rent money. Maybe he'd have a little cushion built up by the time things calmed down.

While he wiped down the counters, he heard noises outside. A quick look at the chrono told him it was well past curfew. A flash of orange light joined the shouting.

The Seam. The neighborhood of ramshackle huts where the miners lived. It had to be. And if that place lit on fire, with all that fine layer of coal dust they never managed to quite clean away…

Peeta was out the door in an instant, consequences be damned. As he raced towards the Seam, he saw other townspeople emerging from their houses and shops. A few ran towards the scene as well, but many stood, taking in the curiosity of the faraway flames and screams. He wanted to drag them along, but Peeta couldn't stop now. He remembered all too well the last fire they'd had in the Seam. Clothes left too close to an open fireplace, the official ruling had been. Completely accidental. But that hadn't stopped it from killing eleven people, three entire families. And compared to the flames that danced in the sky tonight, that thing had been tiny.

The bang of a gunshot echoed in his ears, and for the first time, it occurred to Peeta that the fires might not be accidental. But he refused to stop now, when so many people were in danger, and –

The scene that greeted him was one straight from hell. Flames burst from the windows and ate at the roofs of the few houses left standing. In the smoke, he could make out only outlines of the flailing bodies. Only a few meters away, a woman lay, bleeding from a wound in her face. Peeta started towards her, but a young girl got there first. Satisfied that she would be well taken care of, he began to look for the other wounded.

"Step away from her." At the cold voice, Peeta stopped, only to realize the words had not been intended for him. "I said step away."

Peeta turned to see a Peacekeeper level his blaster at the girl and the old woman, and without thinking, he hurtled himself towards the man. He hadn't wrestled in years, but once you learned the basics, you never forgot them. With the man pinned under him, Peeta managed to grab the gun away. One shot, and it was over.

"Peeta?" the girl asked, questioning.

He didn't tear his eyes away from the face of the Peacekeeper. Romulus Thread. It had to be. The world dropped out from underneath him, and he was falling. This was it. They wouldn't let him live after this. Dad, Rye, Mom, they were all practically dead already. He shouldn't have come. He should stay here and let himself and the body burn so nobody would ever have to know what happened. He should –

Small hands grabbed him, pulling him up. "Peeta, come on! We need to get out of here!" The girl, Prim, he remembered dully, Katniss' sister, dragged him along, and eventually, he ran to keep up with her. "We need to get out of Twelve. Your family has a speeder, right?"

"Yeah."

"We're gonna need it." Together, they raced towards the bakery. He could still hear the screams. He could go back now, save them, die with them. But Prim kept him moving back into town, part of an exodus from the Seam as everyone who could still stand evacuated.

It took only a few minutes to reach the shed where the Mellarks kept their beat-up old speeder. "You get in and get it started. I've got to grab something."

"Hurry."

He raced up the stairs two at a time. "Dad! Get Mom ready to go. We need to get out of here." Peeta ran into his bedroom, grabbing the sack of credits he'd been saving these last few weeks. "Dad, come on!"

"Go on, Peeta. We'll only slow you down."

"Dad, no, you don't understand. You'll die if you stay here."

"And if we go with you, we all will." His father had never looked older than in that moment. Blue eyes so much like his own met his. "Go." Daniel Mellark flinched as one of the downstairs windows shattered. "Go!" He pushed Peeta towards the stairs, and with one last look at his father, he hurried downstairs to where Prim and escape waited for him.

Abernathy's Cantina, Coruscant

Haymitch leaned back in his seat, the booth creaking with his weight. Over the last twenty years, his cantina had become a hotspot for smugglers, thieves, bounty hunters, and the other lowlifes that lurked about in the midlevels. If you were down on your luck and looking for work, you came to Abernathy's. Simple as that. "Seems to me like you've got an easy way out of this mess you got yourself into."

Katniss watched him over the rim of her glass. "I'm listening."

"Sell her off. The money'll be enough to pay off Cray and have someone smuggle your sister and mom out of Twelve. Or you could try your luck and see if you can get 'em out yourself."

"And then what do I do?"

"Settle down and go straight." Haymitch took another swig from his glass, finishing off his whiskey. Katniss was surprised it had lasted him this long. Though, she supposed, she wasn't sure how deep into his cup he'd been when she showed up. It was hard to tell with Haymitch. "It ain't fun, sweetheart, but we all have to give it up eventually."

That was rich, coming from him. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not selling the Mockingjay. Cray can take her from my cold, dead hands."

"You think he won't? For a smart girl, you can sure be pretty stupid." He motioned for the waitress droid to grab him another drink, and she slapped one down on the table in front of him. "Thank you, ma'am. Hey, Rosie, why don't you grab another one for my friend here. Maybe she'll be a little more reasonable once I get her liquored up."

Katniss waited until the droid was well out of earshot to respond. Haymitch wouldn't bug the droids in here to eavesdrop, and he was smart enough to regularly check them for listening devices, but some caution in these situations never hurt. "I came here to see if you knew about shipments that needed delivering, not so you could tell me how to live. Trust me, if I was looking for life advice, you're the last person I'd ask." She should be glad the man had a soft spot for young smugglers from Panem, and grateful that the man had kept an eye out for her these past few years, but that didn't mean she had to appreciate his tendency to meddle in her affairs.

"I'm still alive, aren't I? The way you're going, you'll be lucky to make twenty-five. I don't think a single one of the idiots here'd take bets on thirty."

He had a point there, but Katniss wasn't about to give in so easily. "And if you stop, you might even stay that way for a little longer."

Rosie, or RZ-68, returned with another glass of whiskey for Katniss. "There's a message for you in the back, Haymitch," she said. A thick Coruscanti accent that surely hadn't been in the droid's original programming flavored her words. When he didn't get up fast enough for her, she added, "It said it was urgent." No droid had that much personality programmed in, but given Haymitch's tendency to not memory wipe his droids, it wasn't hard to believe Rosie was as much a person as anyone else here.

Katniss couldn't help but smile as Haymitch staggered back into the small office space. Habit made her check her surroundings. Neon signs lit up the bar area and the seats right next to the single, grimy window, but Haymitch allowed the rest of the cantina to remain dark. It'd been a good business decision, for the types of deals cut in this establishment were ones neither party would want brought up in the courts. In the shadows, she could make out only shapes. A few humanoids played sabacc in the corner, and in two of the booths, beings leaned in towards each other, doing their best not to be overheard. A man at the bar eyed her, but when Katniss glared at him, he turned back to his drink. Good.

Haymitch not so much sat as collapsed into his seat, his face pale. "They burned the Seam."

Those words hit her with more force than a physical blow. "Is Prim all right? My mom? Who did it? Did everyone make it out?"

"Katniss, you need to calm down. I don't know what happened to your mother."

Kriff him. The hell was wrong with him that he could keep calm when someone had kriffing burned their home to the ground? Haymitch might still think of himself as a Seam man, but Coruscant had changed him. Nobody with any real allegiance to Twelve or its people would be able to sit here, nice and calm, and just take what had happened. No, they had to fight, had to stop this from happening again, had to make them pay for what they'd –

Then, it hit her. "Do you know what happened to Prim?"

"There's a warrant out for her arrest. I don't know anything else."

Her body went terribly still, but her mind raced a thousand different directions, none of them good. Katniss' heart pounded against her chest, and she wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like, because wasn't it shock that caused those? And it wouldn't really matter if she died, not right now, now that Thread had Prim, was going to kill her, and Katniss didn't have much use for life after that.

Haymitch's hand on her cheek pulled her away from her thoughts. "Katniss, think about it for a minute. They have a warrant out for her arrest. What does that mean?" He waited a moment for her to answer, but all she could think of was Prim. Haymitch leaned in closer, grey eyes intense. "They don't know where she is, Katniss. If they did, they'd already have her."

"And we need to find her before Thread does," she supplied.

"There's my girl on fire." Any other time, she would have kicked him under the table for using that old nickname, but right now, it felt appropriate.

Intelligence Headquarters, Coruscant

"You think I made it all up." Johanna searched the three faces for any hint of sympathy, but she found none. One, she couldn't get much of a read at all on, and given that the other two appeared downright hostile, she doubted she was going to get very far with this group. Standing in the center of the small room, with the three strangers seated before her, blocking her path to the door, she was trapped. "You don't think any of what I saw was real."

"You have been put through an extensive array of screenings, Agent Mason," one of them, a gaunt female Ishi Tib Johanna knew only as Captain Ishgard, said. "We have no doubt that you believe that you saw a manufacturing plant on Geonosis. But all the other evidence presented to us suggests otherwise."

"I know what I saw."

This time, it was the Bothan to her left that spoke. "And perhaps you believe you do, but your report states that you collapsed inside the facility. Agent Blight found you outside in the desert only two hours after your last comm call, unconscious due to severe dehydration." She had never liked Captain Kan'fey, and given how this meeting had been going so far, Johanna doubted that was going to change anytime soon.

This meeting had toed the line between debriefing and interrogation from the very beginning, but now, Johanna felt that it had shifted too far towards interrogation. "How do you explain this, then?" She held out her hand, still bandaged after a week spent in a bacta tank. The medics said she might regain full use of it someday, but only with months of bacta treatments and physical therapy. The only part of that message that had really sunk in was the 'might'. She had seen too much of the galaxy to ever bet on the good outcome.

"There are many ways you could have injured your hand without entering a secret underground factory." The Bothan delivered his words with the same slow, patronizing tone that one might use with a small child.

Ignoring the pain that blazed up her arm, Johanna undid the bandage. "Then tell me, how did this happen?" Captain Ishgard winced at the sight before her. Underneath the bandage, the skin was puckered, scarred red and violet all the way across her palm and up onto her wrist. "Tell me, huh? How did I manage to get liquid metal poured all over my hand? Because even while I was dehydrated, I'm pretty kriffing sure I would have noticed that happening. And no hallucination would've been able to do that by itself."

At this, the human woman before her smiled. The only one of her interrogators that Johanna had not known before today, she had remained silent through the entire debriefing. Johanna was about to ask her what she wanted, if she thought that her wound and the circumstances surrounding it were funny, but something stopped her. "Do you mind if I see for myself?" the old woman asked, her voice both soft as a whisper and strong enough to carry to the corners of the room.

Johanna shook her head and held out her arm. Her eyes widened when she felt something brush against her mind. "Don't be afraid, Johanna. I'm not going to hurt you." Without conscious thought, the events on Geonosis replayed themselves in perfect clarity. Johanna relived the landing, the hike, finding the factory, the holocam melting in her hand. Kriff, it hurt as much this time as it had the last, and maybe she had hallucinated it, because this type of pain could only come once, and –

As suddenly as the flashback had begun, she returned to reality. "What did you do?" she asked, breathless.

"If you don't mind, Johanna, I would like you to return to Geonosis as a guide to my former apprentice. Whatever the wishes of Republic Intelligence might be, the Jedi Order will want this matter investigated further."

One-Eyed King, en route to Corellia

His stomach grumbled. It had been what, thirty, forty hours since he'd last eaten? Longer since he'd slept. Peeta rubbed his temples, doing his best to fend off what had turned into one hell of a headache.

"Peeta?" Even Prim's whisper made his head pound. "What are we going to do after this?"

He had to think about that one for a moment. For the last day and a half, his every thought had been consumed with trying to survive the next ten minutes. Getting out of Twelve, the speeder ride to Eleven, securing transport off world before the Peacekeepers locked down the district… none of it had left time to make a long-term plan. But now, safely aboard the One-Eyed King and en route to Corellia, they had to think further ahead. "Do you have a way to get ahold of your sister?" he asked. The girl paused. "Prim, I need to know. You can trust me. I'm not going to turn her in."

"I know the comm code for Uncle Haymitch's cantina on Coruscant. He'll be able to get ahold of Katniss."

Peeta nodded. "We'll call him once we land on Corellia, have her come get you there."

"How are we going to pay for it? I don't have any money." She was what twelve, maybe thirteen or fourteen at the most? Children, even capable ones like Prim, shouldn't have to worry about such things. The Seam made them grow up hard and far too soon.

He thought about the rapidly-dwindling supply of credits in his pocket. There should be enough in there for a comm call. Not much after that, but he would be all right. A grown man could fend for himself a lot better than a teenage girl could. "Don't worry, I'll pay for it."

"And what will you do?"

"Still figuring that one out." He laid back against the metal floor. "Get some sleep, Prim. I know the floor's not comfortable, but it's as good as we're going to get for a while."

Jedi Temple Hangars, Coruscant

The weird little old lady who turned out to be a Jedi Master and her tall, sun-bronzed prot égé made an odd pair. Mags leaned heavily on her cane as she spoke to him in hushed tones. Johanna knew they intended for this to be a private moment, but Intelligence had trained her too well for her to not listen in. The hangars beneath the Jedi Temple must have been designed by an eavesdropper. They lacked the constant activity she'd come to associate with docking bays all over the galaxy, and the acoustics

"Be careful, Finnick. Darkness surrounds us."

He nodded, absolutely serious. Gods, they were sickening. "I will be." Finnick Odair looked like he had come straight out of some Jedi holodrama. With the robes, the perfectly disheveled hair, and those brilliant green eyes, he was probably some casting director's wet dream brought to life. If she was dumb enough to judge on looks alone, she would have bet he could help her. Lucky for the universe, she wasn't quite that stupid. Nobody, Jedi or not, could be prepared for their first real mission. She didn't care if he'd been in dangerous situations a million times with some Jedi Master or another. It wasn't the same as being stuck in a tight spot with nobody but yourself to rely on.

"Are we ready?" Johanna butted in. The sooner they finished their little lovefest, the sooner they could get to Geonosis and end this kriffing nightmare.

Mags nodded. "May the Force be with you," she said to Finnick.

"And with you as well, Master." With a pat on the cheek, Mags nudged him towards where Johanna waited. "Ready?" he asked.

She didn't bother to answer that, instead hoisting her bag onto her shoulder and heading up the pedramp. He followed close behind. Johanna knew Finnick planned on piloting the shuttle they'd been provided for the mission, but she plopped herself down in the pilot's seat. He didn't argue the point. "So, this is your first time away from home, huh?"

"I've been on missions before. Don't worry about me." Cocky. Just her luck.

Fine, she could work with this. She'd just have to whip him into shape. "Not worrying about each other is how mission partners end up dead." Johanna busied herself with the pre-flight checklist, but she could still feel his eyes on her. "What?" she snapped.

He gave her a wide grin that had to have melted hearts from here to the Outer Rim. "Trust me. What could go wrong?"

Jedi Temple, Coruscant

"You believe that the Intelligence agent's worries have merit?"

She nodded. "I have seen what she encountered there. The mind is powerful, but no delusions are so detailed. Whatever Republic Intelligence may choose to believe, Agent Mason did stumble across a battle droid factory." Thoughts such as these had no place in the meditation chambers. Hundreds of such rooms littered the Jedi Temple, furnished with soft chairs designed to accommodate thousands of species and gentle lighting. The Temple's designers had envisioned them as chambers of peace and tranquility, not war.

Master Woof, her colleague of over eighty years, watched her carefully. "And when you peered into Agent Mason's memories, did you find any indication of the motivation behind this army's creation? Snow already holds absolute power over his Confederacy. He has little use for so many battle droids within his own territories."

"And we are so certain it is within his own territories that he plans on deploying them?" she asked.

Woof shook his head. "The Masters have not foreseen such an event."

"The Masters also failed to sense that Snow was creating a droid army large enough to subdue an entire star system. We can no longer put any faith in what we do or do not sense. The dark side clouds everything, and it is only moving closer."

"Always in motion, the future is," Woof said, adopting the tone and style of their long-departed former master. Mags smiled at the mimicry, a relic of good times unfortunately long since passed. But in times such as these, moments of lightness had to be fleeting. Woof's voice reclaimed its usual soft, serious edge. "It would be in the best interest of all to proceed with caution. You should not have sent Finnick without first consulting the rest of the Council."

The meditation chambers were not a place for sparring, verbal or otherwise, and she did not take kindly to being scolded as one might a disobedient padawan. "The Council," she replied, "would have wasted time debating the matter for hours."

"Avoiding mistrust within the Council is hardly a waste of time."

"Would it have been a waste of time if, as we have so often of late, we had asked the Supreme Chancellor what she wished for us to do? You know how Chancellor Coin would have reacted. The woman doesn't believe in the power of the Force, would have said I was looking to broaden the powers of the Jedi through making false claims. Even though the droids make a direct threat to Republic security, she would not have wanted to risk angering Snow by sending Jedi in. By the time we managed to get Finnick off-world – if we managed to get Finnick off-world, there's no guarantees on that – he could have an army large enough to topple the Republic!" Mags realized she was ranting, and she stopped herself. She felt a rush of guilt at the thought of arguing in the meditation chambers, but in the face of evil, conflict sometimes had to replace quiet contemplation.

Woof stayed silent for a long moment before nodding. "I understand your frustrations, but what would you propose as a solution? The Council governs the Jedi, ensures that individuals are kept accountable for their actions. Even as Council members ourselves, we cannot disregard its collective authority, for -"

"For without it, we are no better than the Sith, just individuals more powerful than others and with a will to shape the galaxy in our own image," she finished for him. "I know, Wolf. There's no good solution. But there is a very real problem."

"That, I think we can all agree on."

Abernathy's Cantina, Coruscant

Dried blood crusted under her fingernails, and her hands stung, but Katniss could not stop picking at the skin around her nails. The first two hours, she had braided and unbraided her hair, but it had started falling out, first only one or two strands at a time, then three, four, five. She would have to find something else soon, hopefully before she did any real damage.

These were the thoughts she allowed herself to think. The ones that hovered at the edge of her consciousness were the ones that could really bite. Six hours, and Haymitch hadn't been able to locate Prim. Katniss would owe him a lot after this. Comm calls halfway across the galaxy didn't come cheap, and to reach Panem, which officially allowed no information to flow out or in became very expensive very quickly. She had long since lost count of how many favors he had cashed in tonight. For a barkeeper in a seedy neighborhood, he had friends in very high places. And his network reached deep into the Confederacy's government. Every few minutes, the datapad before her would ping with a new message, and she would grab it before the man could, and each time, she was disappointed. She swore they now had the location of everyone in Panem except Prim.

Gale had paced behind her for the first few hours, to the point where Katniss had wondered if perhaps he had worn a path into the cheap linoleum flooring. She had been annoyed enough to snap at him once or twice about it, early on. She had her habits too, but at least they were quiet. Now, she wished he would start again. Nobody should have to hear that news.

"No Everdeens, huh? How about Mellark? The bakers, you know them?" She heard garbled voices, the other end of Haymitch's conversation. "Peeta, the youngest one, maybe nineteen or twenty. You heard anything about him?" More noise. "That's the older one, Rye, I think. Yeah, yeah, I know. Hard to tell 'em apart. Listen, you hear anything more, you get ahold of me all right? You know how to find me."

"No luck?" she asked, more to check that she could still talk than because she would learn anything new.

Haymitch shook his head. "No luck." He peered around her, towards the back exit, always handy in these types of establishments. "How's Gale doing?"

"Not sure. He left 'bout twenty minutes ago. Didn't say anything about where he was headed."

"And you let him go after what he just heard? The hell are you thinking, Katniss?"

Her face flamed. Still, she refused to admit fault, even to Haymitch. Especially to Haymitch. "Gale is an adult. He can do what he wants."

The man snorted. "And is that what you're going to tell the security forces when they ask you to identify the body tomorrow morning? Kriff, Katniss, it's admirable to care about your sister, but you can't let your friend jump off a pedwalk because you've got your head to far up your –"

"Stop it, okay? Stop it. You could have stopped him too. This isn't just my fault."

"I've been trying to find your sister for the past –"

"Fine. I'll find him," she said.

Haymitch watched her warily. "You have no idea where he went, remember?"

Katniss shrugged. "I'll manage. If anybody knows how to find Gale, it's me." Somehow, she managed to sound a lot more confident about that than she felt.

"You know your way around this level? Got a way I can get ahold of you?"

"I'm not an idiot, Haymitch."

"You sure?" She snorted at his comment and grabbed her jacket from where she'd left it next to the door. "Sure, fine, you've got a decent head on your shoulders, and sometimes, you even use it. But you're also a pretty girl walking around the midlevels at night. It doesn't hurt to check."

"Save your worrying for someone who needs it." Even with her jacket on, the blast of cool air when she opened the door surprised her. It would be summer back home, and though she hadn't been back to Twelve in years, it still felt wrong that it was what passed for winter here. Katniss stepped out, then ducked her head back in. "You'll call me if you hear something, right? You've got my comm code?"

"You'll know the second I do, sweetheart." Kriff if he couldn't make even endearments sound like insults.

There had not been a reliable survey of Coruscanti population trends in centuries, perhaps millennia. Every few years, some professor at some prestigious university would undertake the project, armed with millions in government grant credits to do what no one else had managed. But when it came to this project, even brilliance, the latest, most advanced methods, and a generous helping of good intentions were not enough. First off, the population was a moving target. Beings moved in and out of Coruscant at a rate that could empty and repopulate average-sized planets in a week. Certain species proved difficult to count. Did Echinae, which wandered about as seven seeming-individuals during their youth but bonded into one hyper-intelligent being only weeks into their year-long lifespan, count as one being or seven? What about hive-minded beings where one queen achieved sentience while her workers were little more than low-functioning organic droids?

But those were drips in a proverbial pond compared to the sheer size of Coruscant. What must once have been merely urban sprawl had crawled over the surface, bricking over lakes, leveling mountains to make way for building upon building. Now, few of the super-skyscrapers that covered the city-planet's surface touched bedrock, instead building their foundations on top of the ruins of older, smaller structures. All the professors ever managed were estimates. Some said nine hundred billion, some went as high as two trillion. Though the second figure seemed high to most experts, no one could prove it wrong. Most books went with the nice, round one trillion figure.

In any case, Coruscant had become a sea of living things, the perfect place to hide and never be found. And Gale, it seemed, planned to make excellent use of it.

Half an hour of looking later, she had managed to comb through perhaps five or six blocks, and that included only the publicly-accessible streets and establishments on this level. He easily could have gone a few up or a few down on one or another of the turbolifts that dotted the sides of the buildings.

She would know if he jumped. Katniss told herself that again and again as she searched. She had known, deep in her gut, when the mine collapsed, burying her father. Even before the search teams had managed to dig out the tunnel, she knew that Lark Everdeen wouldn't be returning to the surface except in a body bag. No, she couldn't think about that, not now. The dead were beyond saving; Gale needed all her attention.

Katniss gave up conscious thought and let her feet take her wherever they willed. Why not? Being deliberate and methodical hadn't gotten her anywhere. She knew this part of the city from years of coming to Abernathy's, so getting lost wasn't going to be a problem. She didn't really note where she was headed as she went through narrow, winding alleyways and crossed busy pedwalks so high that one could see nothing but city and sky when they looked down from them. Alien languages danced around her, animated and lively. Some, she could understand, most she didn't. Once or twice, she'd catch the eye of some shady being, but a glare was always enough to send them scurrying back into the shadows. Though it was counterintuitive, the streets here got safer as the night went on, for the beings really itching for a fight had already made their ways to the lower levels.

And she found herself in an outdoor café, closed at this time of night, but not at all securely guarded. Katniss stepped over the rope that separated it from the boulevard to join the figure hunched at one of the cheery yellow tables.

"Fancy finding you here," she said in her best attempt at lightness.

Something akin to a smile pulled at Gale's cheeks, but he said nothing.

"I'm really sorry about what happened to your family. That's terrible."

"Yeah, me too."

Hugging him felt off, for they had long avoided any kind of physical affection, but she gave it a try anyway. With any other two people, it would have been warm and comforting. The hug only managed to make her feel even more inadequate of a friend. "Want to get back to Haymitch's? He's worried about you."

"You can. I just want to sit for a while."

Silence moments felt longer than loud ones. Maybe it was a fundamental rule of the universe, maybe it was just human perception, but you couldn't do anything to convince Katniss otherwise. But in that time, she kept returning to the same thoughts again and again until she could no longer keep silent. "I'm going to make him pay for this."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm going to make Snow wish he never so much as thought about the Seam."

Gale snorted. "And how are you going to do that? One woman and a beat-up ship against the Confederacy? I don't think I could talk anyone into taking odds on that."

Solid reasoning, at least on the surface, but she had to point out the flaw. "I've got a copilot too, right?"

He smiled, and hell if that wasn't worth just about anything. Now, all she had left to do was figure out how to make a half-baked dream of revenge into a very satisfying reality.

Im'g'twe Hills, Geonosis

"There's something down there, that's for sure."

"You really thought I'd made the whole thing up, dragged your sorry skin halfway across the galaxy for it?" she snapped back.

Finnick shrugged and gave her one of those smiles she had learned to hate over these last few days. "A healthy dose of skepticism has never hurt anyone."

"Says the man who believes in magic."

"The Force isn't magic. It's an all-encompassing energy field created by life itself." These Jedi types sure got defensive when someone suggested their sorcery was something less than a perfect science, didn't they?

Johanna rolled her eyes. "Okay, sure. Whatever you say, pal." With that, she turned her attention back to the controls. The Geonosians had to have some kind of defense system in place, or at the very least some type of air traffic controller that should have gotten ahold of them by now. No world, particularly not a world that had enormous, secret manufacturing complexes, would take security so lightly. She had come in through the usual public channels the first time, and so hadn't encountered much scrutiny, but now? She didn't put a lot of faith in luck in general, but in situations like this, such coincidences and oversights became even more suspicious.

Finnick, though, hadn't seemed to catch on yet. "And it's what's telling me that the hills are teeming with life that, according to the official records, shouldn't be there. But don't you worry. I knew you were telling the truth." He added a wink at the end. Kriff, he could really be too smug for his own good sometimes. And now, after almost a week of sharing a space that included only two cramped sleeping bunks, a tiny 'fresher, and the cockpit, she was starting to think that 'sometimes' might actually be 'all the time.'

No matter, none of that charm was going to get to her. Johanna could promise that much. "And if you want to present your magic knowledge to Intelligence as proof that the Geonosians are making battle droids, I'm not going to stop you. I will tell you, though, that command's made up of way bigger skeptics than me, and they'll laugh you out of the room." And they would, too. If they had refused to believe Mags, who had been a respected member of the Jedi Council for longer than Johanna had been alive, when she'd tried to tell them that Johanna's "hallucinations" were nothing of the sort, they surely wouldn't believe Finnick.

"I think I could win them over." He winked, and that urge to smack him reared its ugly head again. At some point, she would have to give into it. If she could limit her observations about Finnick Odair to one point, it would be that people didn't smack that pretty face of his often enough. She would really be doing him – as well as the rest of the galaxy – a huge favor. "What do you think about setting down there?" He nodded towards an area just north of the hills.

"If they'll let us, I suppose it'll work."

"Well, then, let's say hello and ask them." He flicked on the comm unit. "Would you like to do the honors, or should I?" She shrugged, and he leaned in towards the mouthpiece. "Vessel six-five-eff-oh-seven-five, calling Geonosis control. Come in, control." He waited several seconds, looking over to Johanna worriedly when he heard nothing from the other end. Such a delay was commonplace on busy worlds like Coruscant, but they hadn't seen more than a handful of other vessels enter the system. "Vessel six-five-eff-oh-seven-five, calling Geonosis control. Are you there, control? Do you copy?"

The unit fizzed for a moment, and then, finally, a response came. "This is Geonosis planetary control," a female voice, almost certainly a droid for no sentient would be so cheery about a job in space traffic control, replied. "Requesting identification and the purpose of your visit."

"We'll send you our identification information right away," Finnick answered. "And tourism."

Well, there was her confirmation that the controller was a droid. Nobody would believe that Geonosis, with its enormous colonies of insects that rejected all outsiders and inhospitable climate could attract tourists. It was a pretty world, full of beautiful, towering stone spires and red-gold sand, and she had to give it that. Still, there were plenty of other beautiful things to see in this galaxy, and a lot of them didn't require risking one's neck to see. Personally, she would prefer to ooh and ahh over a few pictures of Geonosis then spend her actual vacation time somewhere with five-star resorts and no bugs.

"Verification received. What city would you like to dock in?"

"We'd prefer to be out in the hills, if that's possible. We've heard there's some great hiking out there."

She held her breath at the pause that followed. This could be it. The controller could call them on their bluff, send in the fighters or orbital weapons that they had to have, and there would be pieces of them floating around the system for millennia. "Permission granted. Have a pleasant visit."

"Thank you very much, and have a great day." Finnick grinned at her as he plotted a course for the hills.

The instant he stepped out onto the planet's surface, Finnick was hit with a blast of hot air joined with grains of sand that scraped at his skin. Nice place. From Johanna's descriptions, it was only going to get better. "How are you doing?"

"Just great." She might as well just growl if she was going to take that attitude.

He really shouldn't, but what was fun than poking at an animal that might just bite in return? "So, are you having a good time?"

"You know, Odair? I'm kind of getting a weird feeling about this place."

"Wait, really? What?"

"Well," she put on a perfectly innocent face, which really should have been his first clue something was off, "It's almost like I've been here before."

He snorted. "Any other feelings I should know about?"

"You put too much emphasis on your feelings. Sometimes they aren't intuition, they're just feelings. Everyone's got 'em, and most people know not to put too much thought into them. You Jedi should try it sometime."

"We do have feelings," he protested. "We just don't allow them to govern our actions like most beings do."

"Trust me, if I was governed by my feelings, I would be getting the hell out of here right now."

Johanna obviously wasn't listening, so he let the matter drop. He could always bring it up again later if she seemed more responsive. "How much further until we get to the clearing?" he asked, starting their conversation on a different path. It didn't really matter at this point, since they had to be at least a couple hours away still, but talking would make the time pass more quickly.

She checked her datapad. "Eight and a half kilometers. We've got quite the hike ahead of us."

"Sounds like fun." He adjusted the pack on his back, filled with enough supplies to last the average human male five days. With his Jedi training and careful rationing, Finnick estimated he could stretch it to at least two weeks, maybe three if he kept still.

"Keep up that attitude, Odair, and I'm sure it will be. Just keep your mouth shut and all those lovely thoughts to yourself, and I bet it'll be even better."

They walked in silence for over an hour after that. Every minute or two, he would calm his mind and allow the Force to guide him towards the factory like a homing beacon. Thousands of lives buzzed with constant energy only a hive dedicated to a cause could conjure. They were close now, closer than Johanna's map said they should be. He had little doubt the coordinates she had recorded during her last visit were correct, for she was efficient, if often a little less than friendly. But she had seen only one of many entrances, and if his feeling of where the plant began was anywhere close to accurate, this operation was far larger than Johanna had realized. Stretching his consciousness further, he estimated that it might be as long as four or five kilometers and almost as wide. What Johanna had described to him was big, but it couldn't begin to compare to the entire plant. Hundreds of new droids created every hour, enough to topple entire star systems ready within a month. It had been weeks since Johanna was last here. How many more droids had been built because Intelligence refused to believe one of their own agents? When it came time for those droids to be used – and they would be used, he had no doubt of that – how many more beings would die because they were too stubborn to just listen and act?

So caught up was Finnick in his thoughts that it took him a moment to realize that something had changed. He felt a flash of danger in the Force, and more out of instinct than conscious thought, he grabbed Johanna around the waist, pulling her flush against the cliffisde. "The kriff are you-" she began, but he clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Something's coming," he whispered, scanning the area for any hint as to what had triggered the sensation. Nothing stirred, and for an instant, he wondered if it was just nerves, if the creepiness of the hills had gotten to him. Then came a deep rumbling from beneath them. Red-gray dust rained down on them, and not twenty meters away, a hole in the ground appeared, dilating open like the pupil of some enormous eye.

Fascinating, but he didn't intend on sticking around to watch it. "Run!" he shouted, and Finnick bolted down the canyon, lightsaber in hand. Johanna was in the excellent shape required of an Intelligence field agent, but she couldn't keep up with his Force-augmented speed for long. When she began to slow, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her along, catching a glimpse of the hole behind them as he did. It was as large as their ship now, and he could just spot the tops of a few battle droids emerging from it. "Brace yourself," he warned Johanna only heartbeats before he pushed her into a crevice in the wall. His green lightsaber flared to life, and he batted back two bolts before he even heard them fire. Now that he could get a good look at them, Finnick could get an idea of the severity of the threat. Two dozen droids, and none of them had the yellow markings of the officer class. They must not have been expecting a Jedi. Good.

"Stay here." He wrapped the Force around him like a cloak, feeling that power, warm and seductive, crackle inside him. It took one leap, during which he deflected a handful more shots, to take him behind the droids. He had six on the ground in sizzling pieces before the rest managed to turn around. Finnick sent a few a few more blasts back their way, and they were down a third of their original force. He allowed himself a grin. This was going to be easy.

Johanna had moved out of the crevice and had started to contribute to the blaster fire. With all the noise around him, Finnick didn't even notice until a droid dropped before him for no obvious reason. When he saw the smoking hole in its back, centimeters away from where the heart would be on a human, he chucked Johanna a sloppy salute. Nineteen down, five to go. With any luck, they'd have enough time to get out of here before reinforcements arrived. Intelligence would just have to take his word for it that the factory existed. These droids were falling like dominos, but the two of them wouldn't be nearly as effective against a much larger force.

One more twist of his hand, and the last one crumpled into a twisted ball of durasteel. Finnick kept his lightsaber on for a moment more, half-expecting another droid to come out from the shadows, but only the music of the wind in the canyons greeted him. "Johanna?" he asked as she reached back into the crevice.

"One moment." She pulled out her holorecorder and shot him a wolflike grin. "I think this is all the evidence we'll need." She tucked the device into her belt and started sprinting down the canyon, back towards their ship. "Come on, Odair, what are you waiting for?" her voice echoed back towards him.

He shook his head, taking a moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead before starting after her.

Three more squads attacked them on the hour it took them to run back to the ship. A shot managed to graze Finnick's thigh, but otherwise, they were unscathed. He stood guard as Johanna entered the key code with fumbling hands, and after a few false starts, he raced up the ramp only steps behind her.

He slammed into the pilot's seat and immediately started the launch sequences. "We've got company!" Johanna shouted, too loud for the confined space of the cockpit, and he glanced up to see another squad of twenty-four battle droids emerging from the hillside.

"Get the shields up. I should be able to have us out of here before they get in range."

"On it." Half a second later, a blast rocked the ship, and a dozen sirens started going off. "It's the hyperdrive and the shields. Get us out of here. I'll see what I can do."

He wanted to argue with her, there was fire on the wings for kriff's sake, but she was already gone. Three seconds left in engine warmup, two seconds, one. "Hold on!" he shouted back as he lifted off. The controls shook underneath him, but most of them still seemed to be working, at least. He'd take getting off to a wobbly start over being stuck on the surface with thousands of battle droids any day.

Finnick heard a muffled oof from the back as he took them through the bumpy upper layer of the atmosphere. "Johanna, you need to get your crash webbing on. We're going through the asteroid field for the extra cover."

"Just when I thought this day couldn't get any better." Still, she sat down next to him and engaged her webbing. "I can't do anything for the shields or the hyperdrive until we land. Even then, the hyperdrive's probably going to need a professional."

He nodded, focusing on the asteroid belt before them. "So what you're saying is that we'll be lucky to get through this in one piece."

"We were going to have to be lucky to get through an asteroid field even with shields."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." He jinked and twisted the ship through the outer layer, managing to avoid the bigger rocks. The little ones, smaller than his hand and some only millimeters wide, did their own damage. It wasn't what he would have chosen to do under ideal circumstances, but he couldn't risk going into the denser part of the field, and even the smaller particles should give them enough cover to dissuade pursuit. As it was, the ship couldn't take more than the bare minimum of abuse. The ship buckled beneath them with every collision, and even dust-sized particles getting into the damaged hyperdrive unit ensured they wouldn't be getting out of the system anytime soon. Johanna stayed uncharacteristically silent through the entire affair, and he braved a quick look to find her white-knuckled, holding onto the arms of her seat for dear life, her face a stomach-churning shade of green. "Don't worry. We're almost out."

Perhaps it was the Force punishing him for his moment of inattention, or fate for tempting it, but at the crack that reverberated through the ship a half-second later, Finnick knew some higher power was against him. Dimly, he could hear Johanna retching, but he focused on the diagnostic screens. It had been the landing gear and stabilizers. Fantastic.

As well as he could with the navicomputer half-dead, Finnick plotted a course for the outermost world in the system. He couldn't swear by it, but he seemed to remember that the world, whose name eluded him, had both a small population and enough oxygen that he and Johanna should be able to breathe without masks. They should also manage to get there in only a few minutes. For now, that would have to be enough.

"How are you holding up?" he asked once he was confident they had escaped both the asteroid field and the danger it presented.

"I'm trying to."

"That's all I ask." Finnick reached over and patted her on the shoulder.

"And if you don't keep your hands to yourself, Odair, there'll be pieces of you spread all over the system."

He chuckled at that. Good to see Johanna was feeling better. Now, if he could find a way to keep her that way, he'd be a very happy man indeed. Too bad they were in for what was shaping up to be a crash landing any minute here. "You still got the holorecorder?"

She nodded.

"Keep ahold of it. This is going to be a little rough." He prayed that he wasn't lying, there would only be a little roughness. A bit of turbulence, a few bumps, and they'd be fine. Get much more than that, and Finnick couldn't make any promises. He took a deep breath as the plant expanded before them, growing to take up more and more of the viewport until all he could see was a solid plane of green, which he hoped corresponded to a grassy field on this planet, or perhaps an enormous algae bloom. Something soft and spongy was probably too much to hope for, but he couldn't bring himself to care right now.

The atmosphere was always a little bumpy, that was to be expected, but they should be going slower. He tried to slow them, but the controls were useless, and the Force could only do so much. Johanna screamed, and an instant after he realized that the texture before them had to be grass, pain raced up his spine, his vision exploding into thousands of blindingly bright lights as his entire body screamed in agony for a long moment before everything disappeared.

#star wars #thg #i haven't updated this story in TWO YEARS #but star wars day inspired me to dig up my outline #and i want to get to work tonight!

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junker-town · 3 years

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The Chicago Sky are peaking at the perfect time

Photo by Chris Marion/NBAE via Getty Images

This is the Chicago Sky team we thought we’d see at the beginning of the season.

The Chicago Sky announced to the WNBA they were serious about going from a plucky upstart to a legitimate title contender when they signed living legend Candace Parker away from the Los Angeles Sparks at the start of the offseason. In adding Parker, the Sky didn’t just acquired a hometown icon (Parker grew up in suburban Naperville) and one of the most versatile players in the history of the sport. They also took on the burden of raised expectations.

When WNBA general managers were polled at the start of the year on who would win the championship, the Sky were tied for the second most popular pick after the Las Vegas Aces. While the Sky had a tantalizing mix of proven veterans and ascending talents on paper, they quickly learned how fragile contender status can be.

In their season opening win against the Washington Mystics, Parker went down with an ankle injury. The Sky had enough to win their next game against the Atlanta Dream, but the toll of losing Parker quickly set in. Chicago lost seven straight games without Parker, and didn’t break the streak until she returned three weeks later. Once it happened, the Sky couldn’t lose: they followed that seven-game losing streak with a seven-game winning streak, and showed signs of what the could team look like at its best.

It was that kind of season for the Sky, one defined by bouts of inconsistency. Chicago ended the year at 16-16 overall with the league’s No. 7 offense, No. 6 defense, and No. 6 net rating. In the 12-team WNBA, that is the definition of average.

The Sky have looked anything but average since entering the postseason, though. Chicago won two single elimination playoff games — first against the Dallas Wings, then against the favored Minnesota Lynx — to crash the semifinals. Waiting for Chicago was the league-best Connecticut Sun, a team that won the most games in the WNBA, finished with the best net rating, and also boasted the league MVP in dynamic big Jonquel Jones.

If the Sky were intimidated, you couldn’t tell from Game 1. The Sky won a double overtime thriller, 101-95, to give Connecticut only their second home loss of the season. The Sun responded by suffocating the Sky offense in the fourth quarter of Game 2 to even the series 1-1.

The Sky have their work cut out for them if they’re going to reach the WNBA Finals. Connecticut is that good. But after so much offseason hype, the Sky finally look like the team they were promised to be. With two Hall of Fame veterans, arguably the greatest shooter in the history of women’s basketball, and a pair of athletic wings flying up and down the court, the Sky are a team that’s hard to take your eyes off of. Here’s what makes them so much fun to watch.

Courtney Vandersloot is the Point Goddess

Courtney Vandersloot has a case as being one of the greatest point guards in the history of women’s basketball. If you think that sounds overly ambitious, just check the numbers.

Vandersloot has spent her entire WNBA career with the Sky after being taken No. 3 overall in the 2011 draft. She finished her college days at Gonzaga at No. 3 all-time in total assists. Now 32 years old, Vandersloot only seems to be getting better every year. She’s led the WNBA in assists five straight years, and is routinely putting up almost 100 more assists than her closest competition. She averages the most assists per game in league history by almost a full assist of No. 2 Ticha Penicheiro.

Game 1 against the Sun was Sloot at her best: 12 points, 18 assists, 10 rebounds, four steals, and two blocks in 44 minutes. It was only the second triple-double ever in the WNBA playoffs.

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The greatest point guards seem to have a gift to pass their teammates open — not just pass to open teammates. Vandersloot has it. She sees the game two steps ahead of anyone else on the court. Having another basketball genius in Parker on her team has created some beautiful moments of symmetry all year.

This might have been the best of her 18 dimes with the Sky needing every bucket in overtime.

There have been some great passes in this game, like this Vandersloot feed to Parker pic.twitter.com/uaB1nO9syi

— Internet #BlackLivesMatter (@cjzero) September 29, 2021

The Sky posted the third highest assist percentage in league history this season, and Vandersloot’s imprint is all over that number. She has total control over every possession and a true gift for getting her teammates the ball in position to score. To watch her as a floor general is to see a master at work.

Candace Parker still has it

Parker has been a phenom since she entered the basketball world. She won the dunk contest at the 2004 McDonald’s All-American Game. She finished her career at Tennessee with two national titles, two Wooden Awards, and one very memorable dunk. She was the first pick in the 2008 WNBA Draft and won Rookie of the Year and MVP in the same season — something only Wilt Chamberlain and Wes Unseld can say. She won another MVP in 2013, and her first WNBA championship with the Sparks in 2016. There’s also her two gold medals, her nine All-WNBA team selections, and her Defensive Player of the Year Award in 2020.

I think you get the picture: Parker is an icon in the game, and will be a Hall of Fame inductee as soon as her career is over. Now at 35 years old, she’s showing she still has a lot left in the tank.

At 6’4, Parker is the total package on the floor. She can handle like a guard.

Nasty crossover by Candace Parker in transition. Her layup extended the Sky lead to 3. pic.twitter.com/mBJkFIvOuq

— Positive Residual (@presidual) September 29, 2021

Pass like a guard.

watching this candace parker pass on repeat for foreverpic.twitter.com/ZdaQMhP1He

— whitney medworth (@its_whitney) September 29, 2021

Shoot like a guard:

Protect the rim like a center:

How many players in the history of the game can block a shot like this and immediately throw an incredible outlet pass the way Parker did in the first game of the season against the Mystics?

THIS CANDACE PARKER BLOCK AND PASS MY GOD pic.twitter.com/toG5kqCe77

— whitney medworth (@its_whitney) May 15, 2021

Parker is still so dynamic even late in her career. It’s not just her historic combination of size and skill that makes her so effective — she’s also one of the great basketball minds around.

Without Parker this season, the Sky struggled to win a game. With her, they’re going toe-to-toe with the league’s best team in the semifinals. Appreciate her while you still can.

Allie Quigley is a knockdown shooter off any action

Quigley is another Chicagoland legend who played her high school ball at Joliet Catholic and her college ball at DePaul. She’s a long-time staple on the Sky, and like her wife Vandersloot, she also seems to be getting better with age.

Now 35 years old, Quigley is a three-time All-Star (2017-2019) and two-time Sixth Woman of the Year. She’s also one of the best shooters in league history. She has three Three-Point Shootout titles to her name, and wowed fans with her run in the event in 2018.

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Like so many of the greatest shooters ever, Quigley is extra difficult to contain because of her ability to off motion. The Sky run her in an endless loop of actions to free her from three, and she’s able to hit with just a tiny bit of daylight.

Watch how quickly she gets the shot up coming off this pindown:

Allie Quigley’s just so quick to her shot. She’s being denied under the basket, so she escapes and gets a pindown, which is all the space she needs to launch the 3. pic.twitter.com/UMTSHF6C6K

— Positive Residual (@presidual) September 26, 2021

All Quigley did in her age-35 season is hit 45.4 percent of her threes on 4.6 attempts per game. Playing off two historic passers this season has made Quigley even more dangerous.

Diamond DeShields and Kahleah Copper add athleticism on the wing

The Sky are led by their three veteran stars, but it’s a pair of younger players on the wings who give the team an added boost of defense, athleticism, and on-ball juice.

Kahleah Copper came to the Sky in the Elena Delle Donne trade. After being a bench player in her first three years, Copper made a star turn in the bubble by more than doubling her scoring average. This season, she earned her first All-Star team selection, and led the team in scoring.

Copper is a 6’1 wing who can pressure the ball defensively, and fearlessly slash to the basket on offense. Her jaunts to the lane have been incredibly fun to watch all season.

KAHLEAH OMG @kahleahcopper | #skytown pic.twitter.com/fY4wM7PONX

— Chicago Sky (@chicagosky) October 1, 2021

As Copper has ascended, Diamond DeShields has taken a small step back. There was a time when DeShields looked like a future star — now she’s coming off the bench where she injects energy into any lineup.

At her best, DeShields can fly all over the floor and make highlight reel plays on both ends. There aren’t many wings in the league effortlessly elevating for a block like this:

Diamond DeShields said NOPE pic.twitter.com/T2gzBUi7rz

— ESPN (@espn) October 1, 2021

Just look at the explosion on this drive:

Diamond did THAT. @diamonddoesit1 pic.twitter.com/brbD2PHjry

— Just Women’s Sports (@justwsports) September 29, 2021

DeShields isn’t always the most efficient scorer, but when she’s on top of her game, the Sky are the best version of themselves. On a team with such a solid veteran foundation, it’s Copper and DeShields that have the potential to take the Sky to the next level.

For as talented as the Sky are, Connecticut can be even better

Jonquel Jones is a dominant offensive player in the middle who can bully her way to points inside, stretch the floor with her jumper, and attack the glass for tip-ins and put-backs. Alyssa Thomas is a physical force and somehow seems to be back at the peak of her powers after tearing her Achilles in January. Brionna Jones is a load as an interior scorer, and DeWanna Bonner is a 6’4 wing who can score from all three levels. It’s no fluke the Sun were the best team this season.

Sun vs. Sky is a wonderful stylistic clash with great players all over the floor. It was a winding road to get here for Chicago, but this is the team the Sky thought they had all year long.

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patriotsnet · 3 years

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How Many Registered Republicans In Pa

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/how-many-registered-republicans-in-pa/

How Many Registered Republicans In Pa

The Numbers Bear Out The Dominance Of The Democrats

Republicans Gain Statewide And Locally In Voter Registration

According to gallup.com about 42% of voters claim to be independents. Nationally, the democratic advantage in the party registration states approaches 12 million. Many other republicans, as noted, lean in either the conservative or highly religious direction. Overall, targetsmart found that 42.6 percent of the new voters registered this year lean democratic, and only 29 percent lean republican . There are about twice as many registered democrats living in passaic county than republicans. The counties with the 10 highest percentages of democratic party, republican party, and no party preference registered voters are: the percentage of voters registered with the republican party decreased from 27.1% to 24.0%. 4,600 fewer republicans after the riot. In the week from jan. Currently, republicans have 51 seats, and democrats have 47 with two races still undecided. The biggest spikes in republicans leaving the party came in the days after jan. Their partisan affiliation was roughly split between three groups: Gallup.com says 31% of voters are democrats.

How The Gop Could Win Pennsylvania

Hello, party leaders, potential candidates, lifelong donors, and long-suffering base voters. Its me, the guy who constantly asks about Pennsylvania. The guy who drives people to muting me on Twitter because I wont stop talking about Pennsylvania. Who is already showing flashcards of Collar Counties to his seven-week-old son.

Recently, I received an email from a follower of the Decision Desk, the gist of which was asking me, yes or no, do I really believe the Keystone State is winnable.

Well, heres my answer: Yes.

Yes, this state, which hasnt gone for a Republican president since H.W. Bush in 1988, is absolutely winnable. But not for the reasons often cited . In fact, the thing has driven me along in my obsessive quest for the great beast east of Ohio is an article Nate Cohn, now with The New York Times, but then with The New Republic, wrote on the eve of the 2012 election: Romney has a problem in Pennsylvania: Math. This passage, in particular, has stuck with me for three years:

Its easy to understand why Romney would invest in Pennsylvania.;Like Missouri or North Carolina for Democrats, Pennsylvania is what I call a spreadsheet state. When you start plugging in favorable numbers for the traditionally disadvantaged party, its too easy to get up to 48 percent of the vote, or even more. But those final hundred thousand votes are incredibly difficult and require something extraordinary.

Illinois: Error Registered A Possible 545 Noncitizen Voters

CHICAGO An error in Illinois new automatic voter registration system led to a possible 545 non-U.S. citizens being registered to vote, 15 of whom cast ballots, state officials publicly acknowledged this week.

Illinois Secretary of State Jesse Whites office, which oversees drivers licenses, said the data of 574 people who self-identified as non-citizens was erroneously forwarded to elections officials to be registered to vote. Election officials confirmed Tuesday that 545 of them were ultimately registered.

It was a computer error, White spokesman Dave Druker said Tuesday. We moved to correct it and contacted people involved.

As Illinois Republicans called for an immediate hearing over a serious breach of voter protections, election officials worked to determine how many of the registrations were indeed invalid. Over 150 registrations had been canceled, said State Board of Elections spokesman Matt Dietrich.

Dietrich said it was possible some people indicated that they werent citizens by mistake. When Illinois residents get standard drivers licenses, they have to confirm they meet the criteria to vote, certifying they are 18 and a U.S. citizen. Only those who meet the criteria are supposed to be sent to election officials for registration.

The 15 people cast 19 ballots in elections in 2018 and 2019.

It was not immediately unclear what would happen to the individuals.

Follow Sophia Tareen on Twitter: https://twitter.com/sophiatareen.

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The Secret Is Unregistered Voters

So is there a path to winning the Keystone? As I said before, yes. The secret lies not with the current number of registered voters, where Democrats dwarf Republicans by a cool million, but in the number of citizens of voting age not registered. Finding them and goading them into registering wont be easy, but they arent a rare breed: per current registration figures provided by the Department of State, and the Census estimate of current voting-age population, there are more than 1.6 million such untapped voters residing here. Heck, some of them may have already registered once before, but it lapsed.

Attesting to the sheer power of that Democratic voter drive that started a decade ago, only 14 percent of them reside in Philadelphia or Allegheny County. A clear majority, 62 percent to 38 percent, of this untapped mass resides in counties that went to Romney. I broke down the numbers and converted it into a simple diagram, where the counties have been re-sized according to how big a share of the untapped vote they account for:

As A Successful Republican New Mexico Governor 2016 Libertarian Party Presidential Candidate Gary Johnson Pronounced That He Had Slashed Taxes More Than A Dozen Times Balanced The There Are Many On The Left Who Support The Libertarian Partys Proposals To Legalize The Liberal Use Of Marijuana

39.66 percent of voters are registered with that party. The most recent poll at the time of writing gives a d+11 advantage. Even if youd rather not commit to any particular party, you may find yourself wishing to support a specific democrat candidate when primaries come around. Once you know which party you belong to, it will be easier to decide which candidates to vote for during elections. This quiz will ask you questions about your political beliefs. However, registered republicans outnumber democrats in six of the states 21 counties, and there several other counties that are pretty evenly split. Over 60% of black voters are registered democrats compared to just 3% that are registered in surveys, more than half of seattle voters identified as democrat or leaning democratic. The answer may surprise you. Are you a democrat or a republican? Are there more democrats or republicans who top that list? The election of 2010 gave republicans the majority beginning in january, 2011. These are broadly generalized opinions; There are still way more registered democrats;

The election of 2010 gave republicans the majority beginning in january, 2011. Hello and thank you for registering. It was a more natural association. related: Are there more democrats or republicans who top that list? The republican party has waxed and waned in popularity and membership over the years, never quite having as many registered partisans as the democrats.

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Republicans Had Been Making Voter Registration Gains On Democrats In Pennsylvania For Years Stats Show 2020 May Have Changed That

PENNSYLVANIA Fraught with turmoil, judicial anxieties, violence, and uncertainties which shook democracy to its core, the 2020 election season in Pennsylvania was unlike any other in history.

And the fallout from the events of the past few months is only just beginning to unfold, with repercussions likely to be felt for years to come.

While it’s too early to tell exactly what will happen to the Republican Party after President Donald Trump’s loss, a glimpse at shifting voter registration patterns provides a glimpse at how the electorate is responding to recent events.

Democrats Have Been Getting Out There

Committed partisans are the most reliable participants in elections, and often vote more than 90 percent of the time with their stated party. Independents, on the other hand, are mostly lying , and when truly independent, are incredibly unreliable as a bloc from cycle to cycle. If they are the true pox on both houses types, and that terribly undecided, they may not even bother to vote. To win a major election, greater emphasis must be placed on finding, registering, contacting, and turning out new voters.

This is exactly what Democrats did throughout the country after 2004, and they certainly gave Pennsylvania a good one-over. From 2000 to 2014, Democratic and third-party efforts tipped the scales of registration even further to the Left, expanding the blue teams edge over Republicans by almost 650,000 voters. President Obama received more votes in 2012 than Sen. John Kerry did eight years prior, even with a drop-off from his 2008 high, a testament to his teams incredible turnout operation.

Despite that sizable shift, the actual impact on elections from 2000 to 2012 was miniscule: the presidents margin in the Keystone in 2012 was only about 105,000 votes wider than Gores had been. How does his performance over Gores stack up with other states he carried?

In Virginia, the margin swung by over 379,000 from 2000. In Colorado, 283,000. Wisconsin, 218,000. Iowa, 88,000. Nevada, 89,000.

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It’s Always Blue In Philadelphia And It’s Getting Bluer

There’s been a saying for decades that you can’t win Pennsylvania without winning the Philadelphia suburbs. Trump proved that untrue, at least for one year, when he won in 2016 without winning Philadelphia and its suburbs.

But the old adage became;true again in 2018, when a five-county region in southeastern Pennsylvania sent a record number of women to U.S. Congress and state offices.;

In 2019, history was made again. Democrats were elected to all five seats on the Delaware County Council, which had been held by a majority of Republicans since the Civil War. That same year, Democrats won the Board of Commissioners in Bucks County for the first time since 1983.;

This year could yield a record Democratic turnout in Philadelphia, Montgomery, Bucks, Chester and Delaware counties. As of Monday, the five-county region had added 75,574 more registered Democrats than in 2016. The biggest increase was an addition of 20,214 Democrats in Montgomery County since the last presidential election.;

In the same time period, the region has shed 31,384 Republicans from its voting rolls. The biggest loss was in Delaware County, where there are 16,981 fewer Republicans than in 2016.;

Past Jumps In Party Affiliations

Republicans In Pennsylvania Changing Party Registration Following Deadly Insurrection At US Capitol

The bump in Democratic affiliation following Bidens inauguration mirrors that of former President Barack Obamas first term, Jones said.

That was really the high point that weve seen; kind of the 2006-2009 period, when really the majority of Americans either identified as Democrats outright or were independents but they leaned toward the party, he said.;Our data on this only goes back to the 90s, but its pretty much the only time we consistently had one party with the majority of Americans on their side.

Republican advantages, though rarer and more short-lived, followed the Gulf War in 1991 when George H.W. Bush was in office and the 9/11 terrorist attacks during President George W. Bushs term, according to Gallup. More people also reported GOP affiliation after the 1994, 2010 and 2014 midterm elections.

Whether the Republican Party can regain advantage during the 2022 midterm elections may rely on the successes of the Biden administration, according to Jones.

A lot of it is going to depend on how things go over the course of the year. If things get better with the coronavirus and the economy bounces back and a lot of people expect Biden can keep relatively strong approval ratings, then that will be better for the Democrats, Jones said.;But if things start to get worse unemployment goes up or coronavirus gets worse; then his approval is going to go down. Its going to make things a lot better for the Republican Party for the midterm next year.

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Are You Surrounded By Democrats Or Republicans How Jersey Breaks Red And Blue In All 21 Counties

Here is a county-by-county breakdown of which political party rules in each of New Jerseys 21 counties and how much each party gained since this time last year.

New Jersey is a Democratic-leaning state, and its getting bluer by the month.

Democrats have registered voters at a faster pace than Republicans in the Garden State. But the GOP still maintains pockets of control in some counties.

Republicans are outnumbered by registered Democrats by nearly 1 million people , according to the latest statistics from the states Division of Elections. As of the end of September, New Jersey had 2,307,937 registered Democrats and 1,331,102 Republicans.

Over the past year, Democrats added more than double the number of registered voters compared to the GOP , according to the data.

However, registered Republicans outnumber Democrats in six of the states 21 counties, and there are a few other counties that are pretty evenly split. Also, Republicans out registered the number of new Democrats in six counties from this time last year, including in three counties where the number of Ds outweigh the Rs.

The largest number of New Jersey voters 2,378,040 to be exact have not formally claimed any party affiliation.

Twelve years ago, Democrats had a 290,000 vote plurality over registered Republicans statewide, said Ben Dworkin, director of Rowan Universitys Institute for Public Policy and Citizenship.

There Are 644835 Inactive Voters In Pennsylvania

Pennsylvania could rock;the vote a little harder.

There are 644,835 inactive voters in the state, including 418,777 inactive Democrats and 226,058 inactive Republicans, according to voter registration records.

The state defines an inactive voter as someone who has not voted in five years or has moved and not registered to vote in their new Pennsylvania county.

Think of a Penn State football game. Imagine a sellout crowd at Beaver Stadium. Multiply it by 6. Add 5,403 more people. That’s how many registered voters in Pennsylvania;are not actually voting.;

That includes 80,862 voters in southcentral Pennsylvania throughout Adams, Cumberland, Dauphin, Franklin, Lancaster, Lebanon and York Counties.;

A closer look:;

Lancaster County: 20,040 inactive voters

Cumberland County: 18,662 inactive voters

York County: 16,926 inactive voters

Dauphin County: 12,508 inactive voters

Franklin County: 5,282 inactive voters

Adams County: 3,943 inactive voters

Lebanon County: 3,501 inactive voters

While those numbers pale in comparison to the more than 6.6 million active voters in Pennsylvania, every vote matters; especially in a battleground state. The 644,835 inactive voters here could easily decide the election.;

Remember, in 2016, it was 44,000 votes that decided the winner.;

The USA Today Network is working to register every voter, make it easy for voters to check their registration and find their polling place. You can find all of that here.;

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We Dont Know How Many Mail Ballots Wont Count

Under state law, counties can only accept mail ballots that arrive by 8 p.m. on Election Day. But last fall, anticipating unprecedented voting by mail and U.S. Postal Service delays, the Pennsylvania Supreme Court ruled officials could count ballots that arrived up to three days after the election.

That grace period is gone, and ballots had to arrive at county election offices by 8 p.m. Tuesday to count. Its too soon to say how many ballots will come in after that deadline, but in last years general election about 10,000 ballots arrived during that three-day period.

Most Counties Finished Counting Mail Ballots Tuesday Night

The states universal mail voting law gave Pennsylvanians a new way to cast a ballot in 2020, but it also put increased pressure on county election offices. Local officials repeatedly pleaded with lawmakers to pass a bill giving them time before Election Day to begin processing, or pre-canvassing, these ballots.

But in the end, no such change was made, and it took some counties days to get through millions of ballots, giving former President Donald Trump a window to falsely claim the election was stolen from him.

County election departments once again couldnt start processing mail ballots until 7 a.m. Tuesday, but many were able to count most or all of their mail ballots by the time polls closed, thanks to low turnout.

Some counties, including Beaver and Monroe, chose not to begin counting mail ballots until Wednesday, with election officials saying they wanted their staff to focus on running the in-person election.

Mercer County Election Director Thad Hall said his staff will count the countys approximately 4,000 ballots Wednesday and conduct an audit by hand with the two major political parties on Friday.

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Poring Over Party Registration

This is not the best of times for the Democratic Party. No White House; no Senate; no House of Representatives; and a clear minority of governorships and state legislatures in their possession. Yet the Democrats approach this falls midterm elections with an advantage in one key aspect of the political process their strength in states where voters register by party.

Altogether, there are 31 states with party registration; in the others, such as Virginia, voters register without reference to party. Among the party registration states are some of the nations most populous: California, New York, Florida, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Arizona, and Massachusetts.

The basic facts: In 19 states and the District, there are more registered Democrats than Republicans. In 12 states, there are more registered Republicans than Democrats. In aggregate, 40% of all voters in party registration states are Democrats, 29% are Republicans, and 28% are independents. Nationally, the Democratic advantage in the party registration states approaches 12 million.

Still, Republican Donald Trump found a route to victory in 2016 that went through the party registration states. He scored a near sweep of those where there were more Republicans than Democrats, winning 11 of the 12, while also taking six of the 19 states where there were more Democrats than Republicans a group that included the pivotal battleground states of Florida, North Carolina, and Pennsylvania.

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