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echonidae · 3 years

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let’s talk commission stuff!

hey folks !! so i’ve been reorganizing myself to get commissions back on track, and i’ve got some things i’d like to get your input on, if it isn't too much trouble !! ;v;

it’s a long one, so under the cut it goes sdfghghj

a slightly too long tl;dr because apparently this is a 10min read (i'm so sorry): commission revamp on the works! no date for it yet. gonna be easing myself back with just icons for a while at first (no date for that either thoug, not yet), then the revamp will be in full swing with all the other commission options, and the pricetable for them will be changed in the future as well.

some questions:

1) i’m rethinking commission types, is there anything you’d like to see as a new option? 2) considering i tend to open only a handful slots every batch, i'm thinking about implementing a waitlist (with a bit of a twist: it's split between Current Batch and Next Batch; a little more complicated than a regular ol' waitlist, allows me to get through some of the waitlist queue as work gets done). would that interest you or is it too much of a headache? 100% open to suggestions! 3) i’m organizing a board on trello for commission stuffs !! any suggestions or specific things you’d like to see there?

so! it’s already been over a year since i last opened commissions and i’d very much like to get back to them ;o; it’s been way too long! i miss working with you folks aaa

i don’t have a reopening date yet, but i’m planning on opening only icons for a while to ease back into the process. later on, i'll open the other commission options too. you see, i’m working on a full revamp of the whole thing, including the terms of service and that info image with the examples (because looking back, i think it no longer really represents my current style and how i really do commissions in terms of just... plain old rendering and polishing), so i’ll be working on new drawings and a new layout too, and all that good jazz :D

for full disclosure, along with this overhaul of the terms and such, i will be updating prices too c: i’m still working on the new values though, since i need to figure out what commission types/options the overhaul will have. which brings me to the first question here: what would you like to see as a commission option? for reference, here’s the og options:

(hoo i need to redo those examples *sweats*)

also, one more thing i’d like to note about this revamp situation: there isn’t a whole lot that’s changing really haha it’s just been a long, long time since i last did commissions, so i’m reviewing terms and i might change stuff that’s become outdated, or that needs clarification. if you’ve commissioned me before, the process itself is still the same so no worries! once the revamp is out, i’ll point out anything that has changed too c:

in regards to price changes, those first icon-only batches will be in their original price, and the new prices will only take effect once the revamp with the other options is out. it will be quite a while before until that, but if you have any concerns, feel free to message me any time ! either way, i’ll keep you folks posted !! i guess i also could post the new prices before implementing them, if that helps!

so, moving on! now to the waitlist situation <:3c as in, i’ve never had one, a while back someone asked if i did, and now that i’m reorganizing things, i’m wondering if it would be good to implement one :3c feel free to send any questions !! or suggestions!! i'm all ears!!!

usually i only open a handful of slots for each batch, right, and once they're all claimed, the commissions are closed until all the slots are finished. folks who missed the slots have to wait until the next batch, and sometimes those batches take a while to come back, and i usually just message those who missed the opening once the new batch is announced.

what i'm thinking for the waitlist is, i'll open it along with the batch of commissions, and limit it to a specific number of spots or close it by a specific date, whichever comes first. to apply for it, people would just need to send the form and i can tell them immediately whether or not i can draw their request, and then they'll be placed on the waitlist in the order they’ve been accepted c: pretty standard stuff.

here’s the important bit: that list is basically split in two. the first handful of people on the list, corresponding to the amount of slots for the current batch, will be reached out to as i finish working on the claimed slots, and then anyone else on the waitlist will be contacted shortly before the next batch. if, by the time the list closes, not all the opened slots have been claimed, folks on the list will simply be moved up the queue accordingly c: all of it would be discussed individually, of course, and very well disclosed in the commission info!

there are other points to it as well: anyone would be able to request a spot on the next batch's waitlist instead of the current one, and anyone can leave either list at any point. folks who had already claimed a slot when it first opened would only be able to apply for the next batch's waitlist (to give everyone a chance of getting one), and people on the list, either for the current or the next round of commissions, can be skipped up to a limit if they're unable to continue the order once i get to them.

oh and, before i forget, with the waitlist in place, i think i’d no longer be able to put slots on hold as i used to (as in, before paying the first invoice), as it’d be unfair to folks on the list. in that case, the person would be placed on the list as well if they want to, and contacted as soon as possible : )

also the "up to 2 slots per person" thing would be on thin ice too haha

anyway, this is kind of what i intended to do back then, with reopening slots as work gets finished, but never got around to. i want to make sure i don’t swamp myself with work, but also have it so that folks who want slots have a good chance of getting them, whether for the current batch or the next, as there's only so many slots i can open and work on at once, and time zones and irl things are to be considered too for anyone interested c:

it also makes it easier for me to keep track of messaging folks about new slots and such, and the list would be made public and easily available for consulting too : D more on this later!

so how's this looking? i've never done waitlists before and barely knew how they're supposed to work before starting to reorganize things, so please do feel free to voice your thoughts !! i’m 100% open to suggestions !!! do you think this system would work out for you? any concerns? if anything is unclear feel free to point it out, i'll do my best to explain the process or change stuff that doesn't quite work!!

so!!! now to the very last thing i wanted to talk about ! trello!

i’m making a little trello board for updates on commission stuff! my commission info page here on tumblr and on deviantart both have this little section for updates on each slot’s progress, but i admittedly didn't do a good job keeping them updated (and constantly updating two things in different places just. kinda sucks.), so i’ve been diving into trello to unify that update section in one place and keep things nice and organized and transparent : ) it would be super useful for keeping track of the waitlist too, if that becomes a thing, or for updates on commission status and such!

so far i’m only testing things out, so it’s looking like this right now (sorry for the tiny image!):

(the board is lying btw, commissions are very much closed haha) (also if it’s basically unreadable, here’s the upload on sta.sh)

with all those little lists, the “available slots” and “sketch” and “lineart” and whatnot, i would be moving the card along the process : D and adding the appropriate labels, of course

this way i can have those halfsteps labelled too (working on/halfway through/finishing), since there’s only so many colors i can use without making it confusing (and tbh i’m already not too thrilled about color labels as it is, but it beats typing each individual status, and i’d imagine it’s more readable for folks consulting the list as well)

i really like how this looks so far in terms of organization but i’m unsure if the horizontal scrolling is anything but annoying, specially to folks on mobile (with the way i divide my screen on desktop, it certainly isn’t ideal either), so if you have any experience with that, feel free to let me know your thoughts!! there are a thousand different ways to organize this, and this is all a work in progress too c:

so! anything specific you folks would like to see on trello? i know this is a fairly common tool for commission queues and info and such but i’m super new to this platform, so please feel free to send suggestions! ♥

anyway yeah! that’s it! ;0; !

i’m sorry for the super long post, i’ve just been thinking about a lotta stuff haha i feel like i don’t interact a whole lot as it is, and since commissions are very much a team effort, i do want to get input from you folks on it c: it’s good to get a fresh perspective as well!

thank you so much for reading this far !! let me know your thoughts !!! :D ♥

#oh boy.txt #:3c #;;yeowline #the word batch can be found 28 times in this post #waitlist is present 24 times #slot = 32 times (28 being the plural)#commission? 46 times #phew!#also!#doodlesketch stuff #eye strain #for the art there haha

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jungstruly · 4 years

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Stupid Cupid || 02

< Previous || Next >

You’ve ought to believe that you have a curse when it comes to love after a handful of disastrous dates, but when a certain baseball captain Lucas Wong finally looked your way, you were done with having that curse. The little love God can fuck himself anyways.

Or where in,

Best friend Haechan’s playing cupid and doing cupid’s dirty work behind your back to drive away your potential lovers all because of a pinky promise the both of you shared during high school. It’s only a matter of time until he blows his cover off. Until then, the stupid little cupid’s crazy plan to stop you from falling in love will be his top priority.

Genre || Rom-com, fuff, crack, slice of life, angst in the future, Uni!AU, Baseball!AU, Band!AU

Pairings || Business student /bassist!Donghyuck x Architecture student!Reader x Engineering student/baseball captain!Lucas (A side of Nursing student!Jeno, Business student!Renjun and Engineering student!Hendery)

Word Count || 3.5k

Taglist || @lelenoir, @nzeeten, @emvrd, @badwithten, @4-sun, @bl--ankhaeji, @sunhyuck, @hyuckiesoftie, @hoshitaro, @in-my-neofeelings, @chenleschurros, @deuxvous, @renjunluvr119, @neostains, @lovelyvitamin, @melxmay, @cherry-jaemin, @eyypeach, @shotoshortcake, @apollohyucks, @flirtyhyuck, @moonmystv, @princessaecha, @theprincessofuwus, @seungminh0, @dogghawaii3, @shyshybabyy, @jaeveil, @immasoftiee, @chocolattees can’t tag @dlndreamie & @mimika-28 for some odd reason :<

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist!

PART TWO

If there was one thing Donghyuck would wear for the rest of his life, that would be this multi-colored bracelet that you made him during high school. It's like having a small part of you wherever he goes. Along with that part was your good ol' high school years that you spent mostly with him.

You don’t really have that many friends during the first year because of a classroom fiasco that Donghyuck caused, of course. It was homeroom time. He ignored you the moment you flash him your braced teeth. You thought that there was something in your teeth and or your breath was awful. It turns out, Donghyuck was trying to hold his poop back. The smell was horrendous. It was horrible.

You knew that it’s him when he was the only one breaking a sweat in the middle of an air-conditioned room, trying to look calm as everyone panicked. At that moment, you noticed that he’s about to cry. You can’t help but feel sorry for the poor boy. Before the bad turns to worst, you immediately shouted at the class that you were the one who farted and that you had diarrhea because of something you ate last night. Of course, you asked the teacher for your seatmate, Donghyuck, to accompany you to the clinic to cover up for him.

With a tight smile, she waves both of you off. You were Donghyuck’s tissue dispenser that day. You handed him tissue overhead as you prayed that no one would come in. After that bathroom fiasco that both of you vowed never to talk about again, both of you were inseparable.

Not even a single girl wanted to be your friend because of that incident. They thought that you have poor hygiene. Along with that, a weird nickname circulated in your batch. You were Y/N-shit-me-not. It was you and Hyuck against the world and you couldn’t pick a perfect partner other than him.

As a simple token of thank you, you decided to make him a multi-colored bracelet. He found it stupid at first, even scoffing at it as he refused to wear the bracelet for it would ‘ruin his image’ throughout high school (as if it wasn’t already).

Oh, now the tables have turned. Who would have thought that the college student Donghyuck would appreciate the bracelet even more. It’s as if the bracelet was an extension of his soul. There wasn’t a day that he won’t wear it. The colors faded through time along with the 'FS' letter beads but Donghyuck cherishes it like a limited edition Cartier bracelet.

One time during baseball practice, he forgot to place it inside his bag. Donghyuck almost flipped the whole field just to find that old bracelet after training. Even though it was ten in the evening on a Saturday night, Jeno, Renjun, and Donghyuck were still searching the place for the missing item. It was the last straw for Renjun when the field’s LED lights turned off, making the two lamp posts on each side of the area the only source of light.

“It’s just a bracelet.” Renjun scratched his mosquito bites tainted arm before hitting his neck to kill the blood-sucking insect. He just wanted to go home and rest after a long day of debate training for the upcoming regionals. “Hyuck, let it go.”

Donghyuck, who was drenched in sweat and still in his white jersey, couldn’t look up from the grass. He shone his cellphone’s flashlight in front of him as he walked to the other side of the field. “You don’t understand. It’s not just a bracelet.”

Out of frustration, he huffed. He knelt on the grass with his phone, on the other hand, while the other skimmed the grass. “It really means a lot to me.”

“Just buy one or whatever,” Jeno grumbled as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Of course, he was slightly annoyed at his friend. If it wasn’t for Donghyuck’s carelessness, then he won’t still be on school grounds.

“I can’t,” Donghyuck snapped at them. The humidity of the evening air, along with the insects that bit them made everyone irritable.

A small pout is evident in Donghyuck’s lips as his eyes softened, throwing both of them an apologetic look. He made sure to shut his mouth this time. It was the least he can do to Jeno and Renjun, who's helping him find his bracelet. He licked his lips as he mumbled. “It’s irreplaceable.”

Donghyuck wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost it. Their search went on for another ten minutes until Renjun’s loud voice broke the silence.

“I found it!” He raised the faded bracelet above his head.

“Thank God! Now let’s go.” Jeno went to the bleachers to grab his training bag, completely uninterested with it. He tried to massage the stiff area on his shoulder.

To say that Donghyuck was about to cry out of happiness was an understatement. He tackled Renjun with a huge bear hug, almost making them lose balance. Donghyuck felt like his chest was about to burst because of too much joy. A laugh of relief left his lips as he tried to grab the bracelet from Renjun’s grasp, only for Renjun to pull it away.

“You owe us a week of good lunch.” He pointed a finger at him, walking to the parking lot so that they can all go home. Like an obedient puppy, he nodded happily. A soft glint of enthusiasm was evident in his eyes. Renjun shook his head in amusement before he threw the bracelet to Donghyuck.

“Oh God, I can kiss you right now!” He squealed as he caught the bracelet, looking at it in awe. Donghyuck pulled the bracelet closer to his chest, laughing in relief. A huge grin was painted on his lips as he caught up with Renjun. The bracelet already on his hand, where it truly belongs. “Thank you!”

“Welcome, but please don’t.”

Donghyuck was so close to almost repeating the same mistake twice when he got excited that you were there to watch him train. Your presence gave his ego and serotonin a boost as he beamed with pride inside the field. His eyes caught a glimpse of the faded bracelet on his hand while they were jogging. He can’t help but smile, reminding himself to give you his bracelet later before they start.

“Hyuck,” as he tied his shoelaces, he heard Jeno beside him. Jeno was resting the metal baseball bat on his shoulder. His other hand held a brown leather mitt along with a ball that he, later on, pushed towards Donghyuck's chest the moment he stood up. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

Donghyuck was about to ask when he saw Lucas’ toned back near the bleachers where you sat. Quick to his feet, he motioned Jeno to go to your direction.

“What are you even trying to do?” Jeno chuckled. He noticed that they were going in the opposite direction from their teammates who were starting to play catch in pairs.

“Just go,” Donghyuck squinted his eyes, motioning Jeno to his left before he gave him a thumbs up. “Whatever you do, don’t hit the ball.”

“What do you mean do-,”

With a huff, he raised his left leg to earn momentum before he threw the ball from where you were seated. Jeno was caught off guard with the speed of the ball, craning his neck to see where it went. With wide eyes, he dropped the bat the moment he saw your body on the grass. Donghyuck can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, trying his best to fight the smile off as he worriedly ran to you.

And this is why ladies and gentlemen, you don’t mess with the best pitcher in the team.

* * *

Lucas snapped his finger in front of you, in an attempt to bring you back to your senses. Your eyes roamed around the people encircling you before it finally rested on Lucas.

“Y.N?” He tried again.

Your hand went flying to your face as you stifled a laugh. “You know my name?”

He was about to reply when Jeno finally came with a folder along with Donghyuck, who was opening his water bottle. The two boys kneeled on your other side.

“Are you okay? Did it hurt?” Jeno started to fan you using the folder from his school bag. His eyes tried to roam around your body as he inspected you from bruises and scratches.

“Of course it did,” Donghyuck deadpanned, nearing his water bottle near to your lips. You snickered as you took a small sip. It must’ve been your mind playing tricks on you but you swear that you saw Jeno give Donghyuck an eye-roll.

The baseball team’s coach broke the commotion as soon as he arrived. “Are we going to train or are we going to huddle together here like an army of ants? Get back to your training!”

The whole team scrambled back to the field except for a handful of people. Lucas and Donghyuck lifted you to your feet. You immediately winced when Lucas touched your left wrist. You must admit, he looks extremely dashing be it day or night. Stars dotted the sky but tonight, you'd rather stare and get lost in his eyes.

“Someone accompany her to the clinic.”

Donghyuck saw the golden opportunity. He was about to open his mouth when someone beat him to it.

“I’ll do it!” Hendery exclaimed from the bleachers. His hand swiftly grabbed your belongings from your seat. The boy elbowed Lucas. “I might need Lucas, coach. Y.N seems quite heavy. Ya know, we don’t want another accident to happen, right?”

“I’m not that heavy.” You grumbled with a pout.

“You again Kun-Hang.” The coach’s eyes lingered on Lucas before it went to Jeno with a head shake. “Jeno, why don’t you go wi-”

Donghyuck tried again. “I’ll do it coa-”

“We’ll be quick. We’ll just drop her.” Hendery argued, elbowing Lucas beside him. “Mr. Captain here will be back in no time, I swear.”

With one last glance to your pale face, the coach sucked in a breath before finally caving in. “Fine, but five laps for Lucas if he took half an hour. Understood?”

“Yes coach!”

Donghyuck scoffed, witnessing his plans backfire on him. Jeno jogged back to the field with a displeased look. The bracelet on Donghyuck’s hand was still there as he watched everything from afar.

It’s just a crush. He tried to remind himself. A crush, yet the idea of you walking away from him with another man, made him feel a small tug on his heart.

* * *

To say that the walk to the clinic was silent and awkward was an understatement. The pain in your wrist along with the fact that you’re with Lucas made your heartbeat race. Your mind turned into a mess as you walk beside him.

Hendery shook his head, face-palming himself beside Lucas. Sure, the big guy is charming and handsome but behind his front, he’s this shy baby who wears his heart on his sleeve.

Wasting no time, Hendery cleared his throat as he lightly gave a giddy Lucas a small push to you. Hendery's actions only earned a playful glare from him. The two boys had a mini staredown as they tried to communicate with too little to none actions.

Do something. Hendery’s head tilted to Y.N’s direction.

I don’t know what to do. She smells so good, holy shit.

Stop smelling her and give her a piggyback ride or something. He glared at Lucas who undeniably turned into a love sick puppy around you who's just doing the bare minimum.

I-I can’t. I think I’ll burst. Wait, how is she so pretty up close? I swear I-

“Y.N, I think Lucas wants to say something to you.” Hendery stopped in his tracks as Lucas’ widened his eyes. It went back to normal when you looked at him as you slowed your pace.

You slowly breathed, making sure to take deep breaths to calm yourself. “I’m all ears.”

“Uhm,” Lucas bit the inside of his cheek, chuckling nervously to himself as he scratched his nape. You can’t help but to look at his muscles with every flex. The white baseball jersey made Lucas incredibly cute in your eyes. A gasp left your lips when he crouched in front of you. His surname along with his number, was painted in black on his jersey’s back.

With a grin, he patted his shoulder. “Hop on,”

“That’s quite nice of you but-”

“The clinic is quite a walk from here, Y.N.” A sudden surge of confidence coursed through Lucas. It’s now or never.

He flashed you a kind smile. “Trust me. I got you.”

You hesitated for a bit before finally caving in. Besides, Lucas would get in trouble if you take too much of his time. “Fine, just tell Hendery I’m not that heavy.”

Lucas chuckled, lowering himself for your comfort. Your arms warily wrapped on his shoulders as you put your entire weight on him. He gave you a minute to settle down before he slowly stood up. His arms securely hooked on the back of your knees as he started walking. You can’t help but get a whiff of his hair that smelt like faded pomade. It took your entire willpower not to run a hand through it.

Lucas tried to focus on the path that he was taking. He can’t help but smile, basking with honor and glory as everyone who passed by threw the both of you a jealous look.

The both of you were in dreamland until Hendery talked once again. “Oh, would you look at that. I have to pick up my sisters.”

He immediately grabbed your canvas bag from his arm, taking ahold of Lucas’ bicep to sling it on him. Hendery shot his best friend a playful wink before he quickly walked in the opposite direction. Lucas was about to open his mouth when you giggled at Hendery.

“The parking lot is that way.” You pointed at your right before your chest vibrated in laughter. It stopped Lucas from begging Hendery to stay.

“Ah, right. Of course!” Hendery waved at the both of you before finally going in the right way.

The walk was silent, of course. You just wished that no one could hear your loud erratic heartbeat as you and Lucas walked on the lamp post illuminated sidewalk of your uni grounds. It was night time already but still, students flocked here and there as they mingle with one another in their respective clubs and organization.

“I didn’t have the chance to introduce myself properly earlier before the ball tragically hit you.” You heard Lucas said which earned a chuckle from you. “I’m Lucas, by the way.”

Your lips curved upward. Thank God he can’t see you and your huge grin. You bit your lip. “I know,”

Lucas almost drops you. His knees turned weak with every step. He was grateful that you couldn’t see his burning cheeks.

“I’m Y.N,”

With a huge grin, he answered shyly. “I know,”

Both of you had the same wide grin plastered on your faces. Nobody talked after that. Surprisingly, you and Lucas enjoyed the comfortable silence. You savored each passing moment of this dreamlike event. Bless that person who threw you the ball. If it wasn’t for him, you might not be with your crush, much more being piggybacked by him. Lucas wished that he walked a bit slower the moment he found himself in front of the clinic door. He carefully set you down, immediately missing your warmth.

“Thank you, really.” You tuck a piece of stray hair behind your ear.

Lucas gave you a playful salute, handing you your bag. “It’s a pleasure ma’am. Now go inside. It’s already getting cold.”

“I’ll repay you, Lucas Wong.” You waved at him as you went inside the small clinic. “Just wait. Now go be the best baseball captain.”

He let out a chuckle. A permanent smile etched on his face. He was running back to the field when he caught himself stopping. Now or never, Lucas. Now or never. Without hesitation, he went back to the clinic.

Your wrist was almost done getting bandaged by the nurse, due to sprain, when you heard a knock on the door. Lucas’ head popped out.

“Hi,” He panted with a smile, licking his plump lips. “Can I borrow your arm for a sec?”

His request made you giggle. You shrug as the nurse finished bandaging your wrist. “Be my guest.”

Lucas excitedly beamed, borrowing a sharpie from the Nurse’s desk before standing in front of you. His fingertips felt like fire on your skin as he grabbed your other hand as if you were porcelain. You gulped at the proximity between both of you. His familiar scent mixed with sweat filled your senses once more. Lucas looked up. His eyes met yours for a second before you tear your eyes away from him, too scared that you’ll stare at his lips like a creep.

“Done,”

Curious with what he wrote, you checked it before shaking your head in laughter. “You do realize that you can save your number in my phone right.”

“I know,” He winked at you before heading to the door, making sure to give you one last glance. “But where’s the romance in that?”

* * *

Donghyuck’s mind was elsewhere during practice. It was running into different directions. Now, when Lucas Wong finally arrived with the broadest grin he’d ever seen. He knew that something happened between both of you.

“You do realize that you can kill her, right?” Jeno gave him an earful once practice ended. He swung his Herschel backpack behind him. A black tee replaced Jeno’s white jersey. The boy pushed his glasses up his nose after keeping up with his annoying contact lens during practice.

“That small ball alone can cause a concussion. Worse, a ruptured blood vessel! That's a brain hemorrhage Hyuck, a brain fucking hemorrhage!”

Donghyuck spotted Renjun’s car, throwing his bag on the back seat. “But I didn’t.”

Jeno was about to go all out if it wasn’t for Renjun’s car loud honking. With a huff, he opened the front seat's door, making sure to give Donghyuck a glare. Donghyuck couldn’t help but sigh. Panic and guilt wrapped his whole being as he sat silently in the back of Renjun’s white sedan.

“Ice cream or shots?” Renjun excitedly asked, adjusting his rearview mirror only to realize that you weren’t at your usual place. “Where’s Y.N?”

“Clinic,” the boy on the front seat answered with eyes closed, trying to relax.

Renjun’s car immediately drove away from the parking lot without even an explanation coming from Jeno. He went on panic mode, chuckling dryly. “I assume Hyuck has something to do with this. He’s been incredibly quiet.”

Donghyuck sighed in defeat, leaning on his seat with arms crossed. “I know I’m wrong. Alright? I didn’t mean to hit her with the ball. I didn’t even hit her, okay? She just toppled down the bleachers and-”

“If something happens to her. You’re dead Lee.” Renjun warned him. His father mode kicked in as he turned the steering wheel with one hand. “Why the fuck did you even hit her with the ball?”

“Lucas,” Jeno snickered from his seat as he dials your phone. The clinic was just a couple of feet away from them.

Renjun parked the car in front of the clinic. Upon waiting, he twisted his body to look at Donghyuck. “Hyuck, what the hell! You put her at risk just because of a boy? This is getting out of hand!”

At times like this, Donghyuck chooses to remain silent. His mouth pressed into a thin line as he cuddled closer to his large gray hoodie.

Renjun scoffed in disbelief, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You’re unbelievable.”

The dense air inside Renjun’s car was a surprise as you sat on the backseat. Your smile faded, looking at everyone’s faces. “I guess three boys didn’t get laid tonight.”

You were about to make a joke when Donghyuck’s arms went to your shoulder, pulling your whole body into a tight embrace. Your face completely mushed on his chest.

He buried his face on your hair as he mumbled his sincere apology. “I’m an asshole. I’m so sorry Y.N.”

Much to everyone’s surprise, your giggles filled the car. Donghyuck pulled away, inspecting your face with raised brows. You playfully hit his arm.

“So it was you! You’re the one I should be thanking.”

“Yes. I’m so so sor- wait, what?”

“I have a sprain but I’m fine.” You raised your injured hand almost excitedly. Donghyuck shrunk on his seat, obviously feeling bad with what he did. Renjun and Jeno’s full attention were on you with worry in their faces. They gave the boy beside you a hard glare. “I’m fine! I swear, I’m fine. It’s just a sprain. I’ll live besides,”

With a squeal, you raised your other hand where Lucas’ messy handwriting came into view. “Lucas Wong gave me his number!”

Well, shit. Donghyuck thought as he tried to squeal with you.

Now, the match has finally begun.

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evqnbuckley · 3 years

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Chapter 1: Hopeless

Okay so i wrote my thoughts on what I wanted the finale to be and this got out of hand...this is like almost if not 6k and i’m not even finished. If this is popular enough I’ll continue to post on here but I’m gonna continue to update on ao3! @princesscas

Sam awakens from his nightmare, disoriented. The visions of seeing himself grow old, having a family and dying feel all too real. The beginning of his nightmare is fading and somewhat fuzzy but he remembers Dean making an appearance. He remembers seeing himself fight alongside his brother, killing some vampires, a normal hunt. Then his memory clears and the image of his brother impaled against a wooden pole catches his breath.

He wipes a hand across his face, trying to erase the images of Dean saying goodbye, of Dean's hand dropping as he took his last breath, and the image of lighting his own brother's pyre.

Sam pulls the covers off and walks toward the kitchen for a glass of water. The bunker is quiet, peaceful even. He still hasn't gotten used to calling it home, not really. The thing about a home is, four walls don't constitute it. Family is similar. It's not based on who you're related to but who loves you and has your back. Family, a home, whatever they are things you build around you. He had learned that long ago.

The wooden floors creak as he walks through the library. The silence is deafening yet comforting. It's a reminder that, for once, the world isn't ending. The linoleum sends shivers down his spine as he enters the kitchen. Sam replays the nightmare in his head while he downs a glass of water from the sink. The images slowly become distorted and misplaced in his memory. He eventually cannot picture it in his mind.

Sighing, Sam places the glass in the sink and walks back to his room. His feet make a pit-pat noise, approaching the hallway. Dean's door is cracked open slightly with faint light seeping through. Sam turns toward the door and peers in. His face softens, taking in the scene. Dean is cuddling a pillow adorned with a worn, rough, blue pillow case. The light emits from a lone lamp on his desk. Some type of paper for a mechanic position sits atop a few books from the library. Sam eyes the paperwork, puzzled. Dean never told me he got a job. Underneath, one of the books has a bookmark in three different places. There are a few crumpled up papers on and around the floor. Sam picks one up and unravels it.

Cas I know you're in the empty and you probably can't hear me….why did you do it? Why didn't you tell me about the deal before? I know I messed up and Billie was about to kill us both but….we could have died together found another way.

Why didn't you tell me?

Sam picks up another one. This time it's the one closest to the trash can. The markings are a bit sharper than the paper before. Almost more angry. It appears some words are smudged but still legible.

I try to move on and put on a brave face for Sammy. He needs to know now that Chuck is gone we can move on. We have to. I have tried to find a way to bring you back Cas. None of the books are fucking useful. I can't read Enochian. I don't even know if Enochian text is the key to saving you. I've tried contacting Rowena but i think she's busy. I'm at my wits end. I haven't gotten much sleep to be honest. As I'm writing this I have looked through 28 books all based on portals to other dimensions, hell, sacrificial rituals and reverse rituals. Even Astral projecting. I don't know what to do….

Sam swallows past the dry lump caught in his throat. He glances at Dean, making sure he's still asleep. Dean briefly shifts, pulling the pillow closer. Sam relaxes and picks up one more crumpled up paper. This one appears fresh, as if Dean wrote it tonight.

I tried praying to the angels. They didn't listen. No one is listening. Jack isn't even listening. He took himself out of the story, I know but this is you I'm talking about. How can he just sit by while you're suffering. I guess I'm on my own.

Why did you say that now?

The last sentence confuses Sam. He burrows his eyebrows as he studies the three entries. Dean is searching for a way to save Cas. To bring him back. And he didn't tell me? Sam quietly crunches the papers back up and places them back where he found them. Dean doesn't move. As Sam switches the lamp off, he feels the heaviness of the dark engulf him. I have to talk to Dean tomorrow.

Dean rolls over as the aroma of burnt bacon fills his room. He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he sits up. Realizing that Sam is about to burn the bunker down, he slips on his robe and jogs to the kitchen.

"What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Well good morning to you too," Sam replies a bit offended. He's flipping bacon as Dean yanks the tongs out of his grip. "What- I am making breakfast. Can I not make breakfast?"

"I don't know what you think you're making but it definitely, definitely ain't breakfast," Dean smarts. He trashes the burnt bacon and starts a new batch. "Sit. No, why don't you make some coffee."

"Already did. Here ya go," Sam slides Dean's mug across the island, "your highness," Sam says under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah, me too," Sam perks up. "I think I found something that screams our kinda thing. We should head there after we eat breakfast. It's not too long of a drive." Dean finishes as he places the cooked bacon on some paper towels and grins from ear to ear. Sam just watches as his brother starts on some scrambled eggs. This might be more challenging than I had hoped.

"So when you said our sorta thing you meant pie?"

"I meant pie," Dean confirms with a satisfied smirk. "Now, I'm gonna go eat me some of that pie."

"Didn't we-Dean we just had breakfa- nevermind," Sam gives in and follows Dean through the crowd.

Several families are participating in the pie fest. Some are gearing up to find out who can eat the most pie, who makes the best pumpkin pie, and some are just making whip cream pies and pieing each other. Sam observes those around him with a small smile. A life he desperately wants someday but knows he can't have. Or can I?

Dean approaches Sam with a big box and almost runs into some bystander. "Hey, watch it."

"What is that?" Sam raises an eyebrow.

"I couldn't pick just one! Come on, Sammy we're at a pie fest. What do you take me for?"

"An idiot."

Dean ponders his answer and let's it slide. He picks up one of the pies and offers it to his brother. Sam declines. "Dude, you gotta at least try it."

"No, really I'm good."

"Alright, what is it? What's got you so down today?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," Sam replies.

"No, see I know my baby brother. So I know that is your sad Sam face. Fess up, what's wrong?"

"I'm not-" Sam begins, but Dean gives him a look.

"I don't know. I'm just thinking about Cas, about Jack."

Dean's expression falls. He looks down and places the pie back in its spot. "Yea me too. I think about them too. Every day. But we have to move on, Sam. Live our lives. Or else that sacrifice, it will all be for nothing," Dean looks at Sam. "So help me finish this pie."

Dean reaches down for the same pie again but his face is met with a cold surface. Sam smothers the pumpkin pie in Dean's face, laughing. "You know what, I do feel better!"

Sam shakes his hand to free the whip cream, watching Dean rake the remainder of the pie off his chin with his fork. Suddenly, Sam's temples begin pulsing painfully and he has an immense sense of deja vu. His smile falters and he feels out of place. Almost, as if he's reliving this moment. It's similar to the feeling he had this morning.

"Hey, Sam. You okay?"

"Uh, yeah." He's not honestly sure if everything is okay.

Sam texts Eileen and tells her he wants to make up for the date they missed months ago. She agrees it has been too long and tonight would work for her. Sam doesn't want to make promises, as the day is still young, but they plan for their date tonight at 7. Dean teases Sam about it even though the two are already a couple. Saying things like, "don't do anything I wouldn't do" or "make sure you use protection." Sam just sighs and shakes his head.

It's 6:35 pm and nothing has come across the wire. Social media is quiet, so Sam texts Eileen that the date is a go. She replies five minutes later, ready to go and excited to see Sam. Dean offers to let Sam take the Impala out to pick Eileen up. For once in a long time, Sam is excited. When he reaches the garage door, Sam glances back at his brother and sees him nursing a brand new whiskey bottle. Sam frowns at the sight. Dean deserves to feel excited, to be happy. Sam will go on this date with Eileen, tell her about Cas, and they will come back to help Dean. Help Dean get his best friend back. Our best friend back .

Dean waves his brother off and slumps into the chair in the library. It's not very comfortable. In fact, the wooden back is digging into his thoracic spine and causing some pain. But it's better than the alternative. The alternative of thinking about what he's lost, who he's lost, and how he lost them. That pain will never go away. Right now I can focus on this acute pain and center my thoughts on it. Keep myself from sinking into the dark hole of nothing I've been trying to climb out of since I lost - since I lost

Dean finishes the whiskey bottle before Sam gets home and he's still not drunk enough. He rises from the chair and walks to the liquor cart. All the bottles are half empty or nothing but drops of whiskey, gathering at the bottom of the glass. He picks up one empty glass bottle and stares at it for several moments. His vision becomes distorted from the small glass textures, his left ear begins to ring from the silence as he falls into a trance like state. Then, a glint of sapphire reflects in the textured glass. It catches his eye; Dean swallows. Suddenly, he's thinking of Castiel. Cas. He's thinking of "I love you's" and "Goodbye, Dean" and black goo. He's thinking of how the image of his best friend disappearing into a black mass of nothing is seared in his memory forever. He's thinking of how he didn't get to say goodbye, or anything really, and now he never will.

He grimaces at the bottle, squeezes the neck so hard his knuckles blanche, and throws it across the room, into the kitchen. It lands by the island, shattering to pieces, with a deafening crash. Dean feels his eyes burning and hot tears gathering at the corners. Before he realizes, Dean is grabbing all the glass bottles and throwing them into the kitchen. In his fit of rage, Dean throws one bottle too high and it shatters against the side of the kitchen table. Glass spreads across the floor. He doesn't even register the intensity of the mess until one bottle knocks off another, shattering it at his feet. He stops throwing the bottles, breaking from his trance.

"I tried everything! I can't save you! There's nothing left! How could you do this to me, you son of a bitch," Dean cries. He places his hands on either side of his head, thinking. "Jack! How can you just leave us? We need you. Cas needs you! Fuck this all powerful, all knowing God bullshit. We're family!" Dean tosses the cart over. "Isn't that enough?" He pauses and glances around for a moment. Nothing. "Dammit, Jack. Why won't you answer my prayers? I need some help!" He cries out and slowly sits down. "I can't do this on my own," he whispers between his sniffles. He begs over and over again please please please in his head for a few moments. But he's met with silence like every other time. Dean accepts this and wipes his tears away, picks the cart up, grabs the broom and dustpan from the kitchen and picks up his mess. He can't have Sam see what a hypocrite he truly has become.

Dean cuts himself on a few lone pieces of glass, but it's nothing he can't handle. In fact, for a brief moment, the pain gives him something to focus on. He mindlessly watches the crimson slowly drain down the sink as he holds his palm under the running water. He wonders what it feels like to float down the water, through the pipes, through the darkness, into nothing. What is wrong with me? But that's where Cas is right now. A bunch of nothing. Dean grabs a hand towel and wraps it around his left hand before returning to the broom. The kitchen is just about clean. Within about 5 minutes, all the glass and spilled whiskey is gone. Almost as if it never happened. Dean places the broom and dustpan back in the corner and trudges through the hallways.

There is a secret stash of whiskey in his man cave that Dean hid for emergencies. And this constitutes an emergency. He walks to the wall, removes a Star Wars poster from the fifth movie, and pulls out a few bricks, revealing the beautiful brown bottle of Jack Daniel's. Not his favorite but Dean was in a rush when he bought it a couple of weeks ago before they defeated Chuck just in case anything went sideways. Also, in case Sam found his stash at least it wouldn't be his good whiskey. Popping the cap off, Dean takes a long swig as he stumbles toward the couch. Sam should be home soon. I'll be done with this bottle by then and be able to forget anything blue for a while. Except all he dreams of is blue.

Bright blue swirls fill his dreams as he drifts off. He feels immense warmth as the blue wraps around him like a large ribbon and he floats above the grass. The ribbon caresses Dean like a soft, silk cloud, holding him in place. A slight breeze causes the ribbon to ripple in harmony and alternate between hues of blue. The colors circulate between indigo to azure to cobalt to cerulean to teal and finally midnight blue effortlessly. Dean sees dark angels wings above and feels safe. He flies higher as the ribbon ascends toward the wings. Flashes of cerulean eyes skip by, sad and yearning, before Dean is pulled down into dark azure ocean water by the wings. The ribbon of blue dissolves into nothing. Dean feels alone. In dreams, people don't usually have their sense of smell, but Dean swears he smells hints of sandalwood, a campfire, and honey. Then, he sees Castiel materialize before him with his wings extended, long and wide. Beautiful. They're untouched with no sign of rebellion or impurities. Just as Dean had first seen them. Before he met me. Before he rebelled and lost everything for me. I cursed you, Cas. Green eyes lock with blue and Castiel smiles at Dean. Then suddenly, Castiel's wings begin to dissipate and burn away. He appears to scream in pain. Dean reaches out just as soon as the water darkens and swarms around Castiel. He thrashes against the thick water but cannot break free. Dean is frozen in the water and at once cannot breathe. He screams out to Castiel but no sound comes out. He, instead, inhales the water. Castiel disappears within the black, thick water just as soon as he appears. He's gone.

Dean's eyes slowly open. This is a recurring nightmare he's had since Castiel sacrificed himself. Since he left. Dean had hoped the alcohol would impair his subconscious enough to avoid the nightmare. Beer hasn't been strong enough, nor tequila, or vodka. Whiskey is his last resort and apparently it does jack-shit. I need something stronger, if I am to get any sleep. Although the whiskey does not keep the nightmares at bay it does keep him numb. That is enough to continue drinking. He reaches for the bottle and misses. I may be seeing double. After a few tries, Dean successfully retrieves the bottle and downs the remaining third of the whiskey. His head feels heavy and his chest feels hot. Dean can feel his fingers tingling and toes numbing against his socks. This is the sweet spot of feeling drunk, he thinks.

Sam returns from his date, unnoticed, and walks into the room, seeing Dean spread out on the couch. He eyes the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table and sighs. Sam remembers the other whiskey bottle left on the library table. The same one Dean had been nursing before Sam left. Dean is on a bender again. Eileen shuffles up next to Sam and glances at the couch. She looks at Sam with a sad look. At dinner, he filled her in with everything he knows about Castiel and his sacrifice for Dean. But Eileen didn't realize it would affect Dean this badly. She walks over to Dean and pulls the blanket from on top of the couch and covers Dean. He's passed out again and is slightly twitching. His eyes are racing back and forth.

"We will regroup tomorrow and discuss Plan SOC," Sam whispers while signing.

"I'm still not sure about the code word," Eileen signs with a grimace.

"We'll work on it," he signs with a shrug.

The next morning Dean wakes to his Jack Daniel's replaced with three ibuprofen pills and a glass of water. Grateful, he slowly takes them one at a time due to the agonizing headache. Usually he doesn't have headaches or hangovers but the nightmares don't give him much rest. He really isn't able to sleep off the alcohol. Pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes to push back the headache, Dean sighs with exhaustion. He doesn't even know what time it is. His watch reads 4:32 but Dean is unsure if it's AM or PM.

Suddenly, he feels his stomach growl and Dean realizes he hasn't eaten since about noon today. Yesterday? He sloppily rises up and makes his wake toward the kitchen. Nothing really sounds appetizing except for some string cheese. Only, they don't have string cheese. Of course. So, Dean settles for the two day old pepperoni pizza in the fridge. Not too bad, and he will never say no to pizza. Dean isn't sure how long he was passed out but the effects of the whiskey have certainly worn down a bit. He can't walk a straight line, but his vision is more clear. He clumsily carries the pizza box over to the library table next to his laptop and sits it down. Quietly, he pulls the chair out and takes a seat. The hunter in him wants to make sure everything is quiet out in the world. The clock on his laptop confirms its 4:38 AM.

A few clicks and searches show there's a local mysterious killing. Our kinda thing. Dean smiles, knowing that this case will help keep his mind busy. And he will be able to save someone. At least this way he will feel like his life was worth saving. Ironic. I feel like I've said that before. Why do people feel the need to jump at any chance to save me? I don't deserve saving. Dad sold his soul for me and now Cas. I don't deserve it. He shakes his head and munches down on cold pizza in silence.

Dean finishes the last three slices of pizza, underestimating how hungry he had been. He watches a few dumb YouTube videos for a while, to keep his mind off things, waiting for Sam to wake up. Dean is tempted to grab a beer from the fridge but decides against it. He needs to be as sober as possible for the hunt, for Sam. If Dean were to go alone, he would not care. Not at this moment anyway.

Dean has realized his mood swings are ridiculous lately. At one moment, he's super depressed and doesn't care about anything. He honestly doesn't care if he lives or dies. The next moment he can't wait to see what life has to offer. It's as if his brain doesn't know how to comprehend what Castiel's sacrifice means to him. His thoughts can become so tangled and incoherent Dean doesn't know how to act - what to say. That's why he started writing down some of his thoughts, and then thought how much of girl that made him and crumpled the papers up. Right now, he can really use a moment to write down his thoughts.

He grabs the notepad and pen on the table and scribbles away. I hate this feeling. What am I supposed to feel? Anger? Sadness? Relief? Emptiness? Frustration? All of the above? Others? You left me with so many unanswered questions and I left you with nothing in return. How am I supposed to go on knowing this? Cas, how can I go minute to minute, hour to hour, knowing what I know now? I fucked up. I had a chance to say what I've been wanting to say for a while and I couldn't. I didn't. Did you even know? I mean do I even fucking know? I can't even hate you to make myself feel better. I can't bring myself to say I hate you for doing this to me. Because I could never hate you. The paper becomes wet with a few tear drops. I will find you, Cas. Just wait for me.

Dean places the pen next to the notepad after a moment. He wipes his nose with his flannel sleeve. Not many tears fell but his nose is running pretty good. Out of all of his thought entries, this one felt the most cathartic. He sometimes pretends that Castiel can hear him read the words to himself or even hear him as Dean writes the words. Just as Castiel heard his prayer in Purgatory. But he doesn't. He won't. The empty is a dark and torturous place. My prayer and words will be the last things he'd focus on.

Dean lays his head on the table from exhaustion, but doesn't shut his eyes. He won't risk falling asleep. Instead, he focuses on counting the books on each shelf to his right. Then, once he's done with those he counts the ones on his left. Dean notices some of these books, he nor Sam even use. He doesn't know half of the content in these books. Unfortunately, Dean underestimated how counting can cause drowsiness no matter the subject at play. His eyes begin to drift when Sam walks in with loud footsteps.

Yawning, Sam says, "What are you doing in here? You should be in bed."

Dean jerks up, shaking his head from thoughts of sleep. "I found us a case," he replies.

"Mhm. Is that all you were looking for during the early morning?" Sam asks, eyeing the covered notepad. Dean notices and quickly turns it over.

"Sam," he warns. "mind your business."

"Good morning," Eileen joins the boys in the library.

Dean isn't too surprised to see her here but is happy for Sam nonetheless. "Morning, Eileen. I hope sasquatch here didn't take up the whole bed."

Eileen blushes and laughs at Dean. "I don't kiss and tell," she winks at Sam as she kisses him on the cheek. "Who wants breakfast?"

"Yes, please!" Sam signs.

Sam joins Dean at the table and a long beat passes between them. Sounds in the kitchen of water running, the clinking of plates, and banging of pans fill the silence instead. Dean repositions himself in the chair, still not making eye contact with Sam. Sam, however, is studying Dean. He appears disheveled, bags under his eyes, day old stubble and crust around his lips from dried whiskey. He's a wreck.

"So this case-" "We need to talk-" They start simultaneously.

Dean glances up for the first time. "You first."

"I know about Cas." Dean's eyes widen slightly. "At least I know there's more to the story. You didn't tell me everything and I know whatever happened is eating away at you." Dean gestures to dismiss Sam. "Dean, I know you. I can see it. I know when you get like this it's because of something close to you." Sam pauses. "I also read some of your crumpled up papers." A dark look crosses Dean's face. Almost like he wants to punch Sam.

"You did what?" Dean says.

Sam continues, ignoring Dean's comment. "I know you're trying to bring Cas back. I want to help," Sam offers.

Dean sighs, looking to the side. He knows the many dead ends and how disappointing it is trying to save Cas. He doesn't want to subject his brother to the very same thing. "It's no use, Sam. Everything is a dead end. I've tried everything I can think of. Cas is gone," Dean resigns, defeated. "All we can do now is save people, hunt things, and live our lives. It's what Cas would want. It's what everyone, who we have lost, would want."

"Dean," Sam starts. "You're giving up way too easily. There is always another way. Don't you always say that?" Dean doesn't respond. "I know how it may seem hopeless but we have options. We have the resources to continue the search to save him. You can't give up now, Dean. This is Cas."

"I've tried everything I can think of, Sam. Everything! Praying, research, calling Rowena. She doesn't answer. Jack is off grid. I've tried! There's nothing. He's gone!" Dean's voice cracks. He swallows down the pain. "We have to accept that. And however I deal with it is my business. So don't give me those judgy eyes like you are now." Dean says pointedly.

"But, Dean-"

"I said no Sam."

Dean gets up, signaling he's done with this conversation and takes the notepad with him. He doesn't even acknowledge Eileen as she brings breakfast to the library. "The case is pulled up on my laptop. I'm going to get ready." Dean turns the corner and is gone before Sam can reply.

Eileen's face falls as she holds a plate of french toast, bacon, sausage, and lots of syrup. Then one plate of regular scrambled eggs with toast for Sam. She sits the plates on the table and watches Dean leave. "Is he not hungry? I made his favorite." She says.

"It's not that, he's dealing with some, he's just-" Sam doesn't seem to know how to finish his sentence, or fully explain his brother's behavior.

"Cas?" Eileen offers. Sam nods.

Sam reads the case on Dean's laptop and begins to feel nauseated. He has a bad feeling. He, again, has a sense of deja vu. Two days in a row, it can't be a coincidence. It's like there is an itch at the back of his brain, crawling to the surface, wanting to show him something. He feels a headache come on and the pain is similar to when he used to get visions as a young adult. The pain grows stronger as the itch continues, pulling toward his frontal lobe.

Then, a flash of images of Sam and Dean dressed in their normal FBI threads quickly blink by. Another image of them at an abandoned barn fighting some strange, masked creatures. Sam recognizes the mask from Dad's journal. And then a burst of images, showing Sam and Dean fighting these creatures appear. They're vampires! The brothers are winning, slicing the vamp's heads off one after another. The last image shows Dean pushed against something sharp and… Oh no, Dean Sam thinks.

He grabs his head and shakes the images away. Groaning in pain, he sees he's on the floor. He must have fallen while the vision took over. Eileen is at his side, freaked out. She's signing, "Are you okay?" over and over again.

Slowly, Sam regains his thoughts and tells Eileen he's okay. Dean rushes by Sam's side by this point after hearing the loud thud from his fall. Dean places his hand on Sam's shoulder, in concern.

"Dude, what the hell happened? Say something. You alright?" Dean glances over Sam, and around the bunker, checking for any intruders.

"Yea, yea. I'm fine. I feel like I just got hit by a freight train. Like how my visions used to feel." He pauses. "I actually think I just had a vision." Sam looks at Dean with bewilderment and Dean returns the look.

"I'm sorry. Did you just say you had a vision?"

"Yea." Sam breathes.

"You haven't had one of those since you were like in your twenties and yellow eyes was after you. Why the fuck now?"

"I-I don't know. I thought it was a nightmare, but last night the same images played in my mind. I went all day yesterday feeling a sense of deja vu. The pie fest, reading the case, even eating breakfast."

All three are silent for quite a while. Their breakfast grows cold but no one pays it any mind. "What if it's a sign?" Eileen questions.

"Like from God, uh, Jack?" Sam offers.

Dean huffs in response. He knows damn good and well Jack is staying out of everyone's business. There isn't any possibility Jack is interfering. "I doubt it."

"It's possible," says Sam. "Maybe he has taken himself out of the narrative, but what if he's helping us still by guiding us through this vision?"

"He hasn't answered any of my damn prayers since two months ago. Why would he start now?"

"I don't know, change of heart?" Sam offers, half-heartedly.

Dean stands and laughs with a bitter shake of his head. "You honestly believe that? Come on, Sam. The kid has a new sense of almighty. We, you, me and Cas, we are now left in the dust. He said so himself. You're just having some freak migraine."

Sam stands, with Eileen in tow. She helps him up by the arm. "You're wrong. I know he's not like Chuck, and stays away, but he still cares. I know he sent me this vision to help us. All of us," Sam stares at Dean's glare of hopelessness. "I have faith, Dean."

"How can you be so sure? How can you be so positive that this is from Jack and he's trying to help us? Doesn't make a lot of sense that out of all the times I've asked for his help, to save Cas, or help me bring him back, he's now warning you of an ordinary hunt?" Dean says frustrated.

"Because in this hunt you die, Dean," Sam blurts out. Dean stays quiet. "You die and I have to go on without you. You leave me and I have to live a life without my brother."

Dean's gaze falls to the floor. He's quiet for a moment, processing this information. "You live a happy life?" He barely says.

"What?"

"After I die, do you go on having the whole white picket fence, apple pie life with the 2.5 kids?" Dean clarifies, calmly.

Sam searches Dean's face for any kind of sign of self actualization or will to live. "Why does it matter? I can still strive for that with you alive. We both can," he adds.

Dean smiles, that tired, sad smile. "No, Sammy. You and I both know as long as I'm alive you will always be in this life." He looks at Eileen. "You two will never have a chance at a happy, normal life with me around. Besides, hunting is what I do. There is nothing else for me. Not anymore.”

"That's not true," Eileen says, with tears in her eyes. She reaches out and places her hand on Dean's cheek, pleading for him to understand how wrong he is.

"It is. I'm the one that dragged you back into this life, Sam. I'm the only one keeping you here. Let me give you an out."

"Stop. Okay just stop. We are not going on this hunt. If you want to be suicidal, fine, but I'm keeping you out of danger. You are always so quick to jump in front of a gun or blade. Do you still care that little about yourself, Dean?" Sam searches his brother's eyes. "What about that job paperwork on your desk? You must have cared at some point. Wanted to live!" Dean is quiet. Sam sighs. "Cas wouldn't want you to die. He died to save you, remember? So, what I am going to do is bring Cas back. Are you going to help me?"

Dean ponders Sam's offer for a moment. "What about the people that will die, if we don't save them?"

"I'll call some hunters and give them a heads up on what to look out for when they go there. It'll be taken care of," Sam reassures.

Dean glances between Eileen and Sam. Fiddling with a loose string on the end of his flannel sleeve, he sighs. On one hand, he'd love to see Castiel again. He'd do anything- to hug him and tell him all the things he didn't get to say. But on the other hand, he's so tired. So very tired. There are no leads. And he's lost all faith in his search to save Castiel.

"Dean?" Sam starts.

"Okay. Let's bring Cas home."

#man i dont even know what to put in the tags #who do i tag #my writing #destiel #this is gonna be a journey

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af1899 · 3 years

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FEH - My free summons on 9/17/2021 + data mine thoughts

Hey, what's good?

So, the banner based on the [Cindered Shadows] DLC from Fire Emblem: Three Houses (with Múspell on it) + its respective data update is finally out.

First, my free summons in the banner mostly weren't anything of special, prioritized blue as planned but nothing. In the round with the fourth free summon though, was forced to pick the fallback category (colorless) and...

Heh... nice, that's my second Leila, I won't complain at all, it's always nice to get a 5★ with valuable fodder or an unexpected merge on a project. I'll try to max her [HM] then fodder to Legendary Lilina for [Life and Death 4] as well as [Rally Atk/Spd+], fortunately these will be easy to get.

Nothing else but that's OK. I'll just move on and at least I know I'll eventually run on the other skill I want on Legendary Lilina, which is [A/R Far Trace 3], since it's going to be in the regular pool after this banner is over.

Now, onto data mine stuff, you can find the thread by redditor u/MrGengar123 right here, but feel free to read my thoughts onto what we've gotten (there'll be no talk about story spoilers and the like).

So... the thing that probably interests players the most when a data mine rolls out would be stats on the Heroes that come with the update.

Múspell doesn't really play so differently from what we've possibly experienced on [Ice & Flame 3] with him as an enemy, he's more of a dual-phase unit that focus his strength on a single blow, is durable both physically and magically (but slow as hecc) and prevents the foe from healing. Noteworthy is that he brings [Dragon Wall 3] to the regular pool, which you should definitely prioritize from his fodder if that's your plan and got him.

Also, more or less expected the statlines on the other three banner units, nothing too special to stand out in those but Yuri is probably going to give us new worries in nowadays metagame in PvP.

But Balthus has a similar statline to Mustafa (45/38/25+/36/28-) but Balthus's statline is superior, as you could have imagined, just being one point slower than Mustafa, but the rest, Balthus has the upper hand. About him there's also the skill choice, I didn't realize before that his weapon indeed looked like an {Instant} one, and it is, it's a good one and we're getting it for free, so, be sure you got your 5★ Balthus (check in-game inbox with Feh)! But I.S. just ruined it up with the passive skill choice, why do we have [Close Guard 3] still as a 5★ skill? It's just stupid specially since [Brazen Atk/Def 3] is already on Ares at 4★ and there's like nothing that should justify it staying locked to that rarity nowadays.

And Aelfric just got the worst treatment out of this batch, while his class seems to make sense due to how he's designed as a unit in his home game, his kit just feels completely lacking in creativity and also, he's just one of the several free red tome users we've been getting this year, his statline is basically a slightly beefed up Arete but without a horse, it's also our second month in a row with a red tome infantry user, their statlines are different (comparing to Pelleas) but this doesn't change he's the fourth unit in the year with that class, with not much to make him stand out compared to the other ones except for maybe the post-[CYL 2021] statline boost benefit, but chances are Pelleas will do better for you and his starting weapon is better too, {Rabbit} weapons in general are mostly terrible Imo, they're okay for short battles but generally, there are better options, including good ol' {Blade} tomes. At least his rarer skill is at 4★, it's [Threat. Def/Res 2], which you can use to get [Def/Res Menace] and another skill from Zeke's fodder ([Atk/Def Catch 3] if you plan to fodder a Legendary Sigurd with the Lv.4 version + [Fatal Smoke 3] or [Lull Atk/Def 3]).

Anyway, my plans on them would be:

Aelfric: fodder of [Threat. Def/Res 2] to users of physical weapons (thought of Legendary Lucina and Ephraim) after maxing out [HM], will keep one copy at 5★ for rerun quests.

Balthus: fodder of [Instant Axe+] and [Close Guard 3] for Groom Zealot, also after maxing out Balthus' [HM], working on that as of writing date of this post.

Now, next [Hall of Forms] lineup consists of these units from Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance:

Bridal Sanaki: green tome flier.

Ashnard: sword flier. ([GHB] unit)

Halloween Ilyana: blue tome armored. (!!!)

Soiree Nephenee: colorless bow infantry user with ability to refresh an ally. (And she's currently summonable and obtainable for a limited time as a [Combat Manual])

Now this is a really well balanced team, no healers but you get a refresher and one unit of each color, two that use physical weapons and two that use magical ones, which should make things more workable in the event as it goes on and you fill everyone with skills that suit them. It's a nice line-up indeed and Halloween Ilyana is great for [A/R Far Save 3], if you'll go for her, [Atk/Res Unity], [Pact Blooms+] (go for another seasonal weapon if you already have (or can get) Valentine's Veronica!) and an enemy-phase oriented {Fighter} B-skill such as [Slick Fighter 3] are also excellent to take along (if you take these, remember [Atk/Res Unity] and [Slick Fighter 3] are counterproductive, you'd like [Crafty Fighter 3] instead!).

Two of them happen to be my Tellius favs (Ilyana and Nephenee) but sadly can't purchase them and only got 1 [Celestial Stone] out of 3. Still, I'll build them as best as RNG allows it to, I specially adore Ilyana and I'll do what I can to make her great.

Bonuses in [Arena]... hmm... not much of interesting, at least I got Scion Julia but I'll use Scion Nanna so that I can balance the team color distribution in the team I'll use and have a healer (Idoun, Sonya and Ninian are the rest of the members).

In [Aether Raids] I got better luck with Mila and Naga, both of which are projects and characters I actually appreciate, so I'm set for two weeks there.

The End

That's all! I do apologize if the post was too long for you, I often need more words to express properly what I mean while also palcing some extra things for convenience.

If you've made it this far, I appreciate you took the time to read my thoughts, I hope you found something helpful in this post and good luck in your summons!

#feh #fe heroes #fire emblem heroes

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saleintothe90s · 3 years

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427. Super Bowl 1991 Commercials (1/27/1991)

(I love that this carefree ad ran in the WE’RE AT WAR issue of my local paper, Daily Press, ten days before the Super Bowl):

I believe my mom would save the papers from the war, and send them to my dad who was out to sea at the time. That’s the only reason why we still have this copy that’s in my collection right now (I took this pic back in 2017 when I re-found it).

So, anyway, just like 30 years ago, Super Bowl 2021 is being held during an uncertain time in the country, and just like in 1991, advertisers were hesitant. Diet Pepsi pulled a “call this number for your chance at a million dollars” ad days before the game, citing “world events”, and the fear of “Disrupting our nation’s ability to communicate” 1:

New York Times on wartime Super Bowl coverage the following day:

Even the commercials were affected by events in the Gulf. In most Super Bowl telecasts, the messages are slick and expensive. This year's batch was somewhat toned down because of the war, most notably the ads of Coke and Pepsi, which abandoned ambitious promotions and made sure the viewer knew it. (And didn't Pepsi have to love that halftime shot of a soldier drinking its product while watching the game in Saudi Arabia?) 2

(source)

Before we get started, I have to mention Whitney Houston’s Star Spangled Banner from that year. Every Monday morning in elementary school, we had to stand for the Star Spangled Banner along with the Pledge of Allegiance. For weeks after the game, we always stood for the Whitney version. I always refer to this Super Bowl as the “Whitney Houston Super Bowl”.

Ok, now to the “subdued” (?) commercials, beginning here:

Look, I know that Jay from the Purple Stuff Podcast said he loved this commercial in the Super Bowl Commercials episode, but I think this Bugle Boy commercial with the GoGos is so lame. I mean, I’m going to say it, were the GoGos still relevant in 1991? Was Bugle Boy clothes still a thing in 1991?

Are picture-in picture TVs still a thing?!

Bud Bowl 3 with Bud Dry this year! I predict Bud Light will win this year.

At 4 minutes in, Advertising History happens. Yes, it’s the Ray Charles Diet Pepsi UH-HUH commercial! I was seven when this aired, so this was one of the first big commercial campaigns I really remembered. I have this strange memory of seeing a TV interview with the Uh-Huh girls (Meilani Paul, Darlene Dillinger and Gretchen Palmer) , and they said they were coming out with an album soon, and little me was like, “I’m going to buy that album”. It never came out.

Ray made an appearance on Pepsi cans in 2018. I never got my hands on the Ray can, I always got Britney or MJ when I got a pack of Diet Pepsi that Summer.

I’ve been meaning to watch the John Goodman critical flop King Ralph for months now.

Is wielding around a giant bottle opener legal at the Bud Bowl?

Part 2 starts with an upset at the Bud Bowl -- Bud Light hid the football in his label? what? So many questions with the commercials this year.

Peter Jennings updates us during the commercial break about the war. The Air Force was using smart bombs to disturb the oil flow into the Gulf, started by the Iraqis. It was 3am and quiet in Saudi Arabia.

Earlier, I mentioned that I was just a little kid when this was going on, and I don’t remember much. However, I do remember thinking “Iraq” was spelled “Arrack”, until I saw the word “Iraq” in a newspaper headline.

Peter will be back at halftime for another update. Yup, you heard me, no halftime show was broadcast that year. If you were at the stadium in Tampa that year you saw the show with the New Kids on the Block and an “all kids Super Bowl”, but if you were watching it on TV, you got the news, and maybe after the premiere of Davis Rules after the game, you saw the show, pretaped, but most people didn’t see the show. There’s a great video by Secret Base about the “worst halftime show ever”. Peter Jennings was “the Beyonce of 1991″. It looks like from Secret Base’s video that we didn’t miss anything. i mean a small bowl-cut haired boy sang “Wind Beneath My Wings”, which I’ve mentioned before, is the saddest song ever:

(that little kid has major hair roots)

The original World Football League only lasted two years. I found an early game on YouTube.

McDonalds thought that neon clad skiers could sell its steak sandwich with onions, mushrooms, and sauce that looks little McRib-y.

Here is a Harlem Globetrotter dancing with Miss Piggy.

Karl Malone had some jazzy LAGears. Did you know that there are some LAGears on the Payless Shoes website?

I have more questions, what is that popping out of that Panasonic TV? A remote control? Way back in the beginning of this website, I asked another question about a Panasonic Commercial that aired this evening.

Bud Bowl update at the end of part 2:

Part 3

Oh, give me a break with this elementary school garbage, Hertz. This is the Super Bowl.

All the goodwill I gave the Ray Charles Diet Pepsi commercial is out the door after hearing Jerry Lewis sing murder the song.

A 40 oz of Budweiser crushed and murdered some Bud Light bottles. Game’s tied.

Part 4

~the new Panasonic portable laptop word processor~ Nope, this wasn’t a computer, it just handled word processing.

Eriq La Salle played an olympian in a Budweiser commercial. ~America~

Ok, Boomer. But seriously, l’m 37, and I still want Reebok Pumps.

Diet Coke dumped their Leslie Nielsen commercial, and instead ran a commercial stating why they didn’t feel right airing it? I don’t think this commercial would hurt anybody’s feelings or offend anybody, Diet Coke. In 1994, The New York Times mentioned it as an ad fail:

In 1991 the Persian Gulf War overshadowed the cola wars, forcing Coca-Cola and Pepsi-Cola to reassess plans to promote contests with humorous commercials.

Coca-Cola went ahead with its contest, but replaced its silly spots, starring Leslie Nielsen as a bumbling police detective, with serious spots, including one announcing a $1 million donation to the U.S.O. There have been few more surreal moments in advertising history than when a somber-voiced announcer in a no-frills Diet Coke commercial asked consumers to play the "Crack the Code for Real Refreshment" game.

Pepsi, by contrast, scrapped its contest but stuck with its funny commercials, featuring Ray Charles warbling "You got the right one baby, uh-huh!" for Diet Pepsi. The result: Diet Pepsi trounced Diet Coke -- and Coca-Cola has yet to return to the Super Bowl. 3

A sense of relief washed over me when I saw my bbys, Jon Lovitz and Dana Carvey in an American Express commercial.

Jon couldn’t shop at Needless Markup.

Budweiser is cheating again.

(part 5)

Bud Light won fair and square!

1. “Pepsi Promotion Fizzles Out.” Broadcasting, January 28, 1991. 26. https://worldradiohistory.com/Archive-BC/BC-1991/BC-1991-01-28.pdf

2. Lapointe, Joe. “SUPER BOWL XXV: TELEVISION; ABC’s Coverage Stays in Perspective.” The New York Times, January 28, 1991, sec. Sports. https://www.nytimes.com/1991/01/28/sports/super-bowl-xxv-television-abc-s-coverage-stays-in-perspective.html.

3. Elliott, Stuart. “Super Triumphs and Super Flops.” The New York Times, January 30, 1994, sec. Business. https://www.nytimes.com/1994/01/30/business/super-triumphs-and-super-flops.html.

#super bowl #superbowl #1991 #persian gulf war #operation desert storm #peter jennings #old commercials #diet coke #diet pepsi #ray charles #randy quaid #bud bowl #jon lovitz #dana carvey #eriq la salle #america

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tk9336 · 3 years

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My Curatorial Internship at the Museum of Science and Industry, Chicago!

I began my Curatorial Internship on 6/7/21 bright and early as I drove my first day waking up at 5AM as I live in Wauconda, IL a northwest suburb of Chicago. MSI is in the heart of downtown Chicago, so the drive is usually an hour and half accounting for traffic. That sucked big time, so I took the train for the rest of my time so far. Luckily I only have to be in the office Monday/Tuesday which is bittersweet: my train ticket is $10 a day, parking at Barrington Station is $3.50 daily but what kicks my wallet in the teeth if my Lyft bill, usually around $50 from Ogilvie Transportation Center in downtown Chicago to MSI and back. Thankfully my internship is paid thanks to Studio Institute which is my sponsor, a grant MSI received and SI how I found out about the position for the summer. I thought I would be working with a team of interns since this is a big project I am a part of, but believe it or not I am the sole Curatorial intern! It felt good to know that I did well in my interview and it wasn’t just a hunch, and to have the honor of being the sole recipient! Its been a number of years since there was a curatorial intern and with this in mind I knew I was going to work hard to pay them back for their faith in me. I do not say this lightly, as I am 28 years old now and opportunities like this I have learned are not offered to just any one off the street.

The Project? MSI is digitizing roughly 1,000 artifacts to be shown online on their website (COVID was a strong motivator for this as it hit Museums all over the world. They are passionate about reaching their audience!) Collections has over 35,000 artifacts to keep track of, and all it’s history is just written or printed in a large Accession’s Archive, and there is digital archive to work with. I am going to help with what I am assigned with gaining invaluable professional research experience, with a strong focus as well in writing for labels and anything else that is thrown my way! I am also making this blog conjunction for my school, Loyola University Chicago of which helped me get this position. This will be a long post, so buckle in as I share my weeks to bring you, and me up to date for next week, 7/19/21!

Week 1: 6/7-11/2021 | This position is 4 days a week, for a total of 28 hours. Part-time. My round-trip however with commuting turns a 7 hour work day into a 12 hour day from when I wake up until I drive home from Barrington Station. Thankfully the two days I work from home is a bit easier on commuting from upstairs to downstairs!

Monday: HR/Orientation/Introduction to Collections by Alexis, the talent manager at MSI. Your standard job introduction, but my first at a Museum.

Tuesday: In-depth Museum tour/explaining the research and writing work I would be doing/assisting Kathleen (Collections Director) in the vault*(storage, vault sounds cooler) cataloging.

Wednesday: Photographing Bike exhibit for transcription/beginning research work on first Accessions project on Firefighting artifacts by find corresponding files in Accessions archive, reading the materials in each folder to find relevant material to write in description about the item to put online. I scan the documents I find relevant, so that I can do that additional research and writing at home. This will be the plan going forward (research/cataloging the vault on Monday and Tuesdays) but there are plans to have me assist on additional projects and duties within the department and MSI as a whole.

Thursday: With the information gathered from scanning documents from each accessions folder, then at home I can look over each stapled bunch of materials of each item and then add bullet points of relevant information in a word document. That can then be shared with the Director, Curator and assistant curator to help them use the most relevant materials to weave the labels needed to put online for this historic artifacts.

Week 2: 6/14/18/2021 | Fridays are not included as that’s when I attend Zoom meetings with the program directors and liaison for Studio Institute which has over 40 interns around the country in Museums across the United States. I won’t lie... I got the best assignment in my opinion! This was tailor made for me! As an older student I am FULLY aware of what a incredible privilege it is to be paid to do something you truly love down to your bones.

Monday: I start at 9:15 but my train was late to unforeseen circumstances. I emailed my supervisor I would be in a hour later than usual and she appreciated the heads up. I continued pulling folders from the accessions archive, then scanning relevant materials. I would then staple the gathered materials and kept my work in order to mirror the worksheet log I was given for the artifacts in the fire fighting exhibit.

Tuesday: Getting in at my normal time I continued, and finished the worksheet log I was given for the Fire Fighting exhibit. I now have a large amount of material to review on my days working from home to provide bulleted points of relevant material that will assist the Collections team create the labels needed when selected materials are uploaded online. I would do five files at a time to stay organized and not bite off more than I could and get "lost in the sauce" as we would say in the Army. That way, a steady rhythm was established and I could better gauge my time per batch.

Wednesday: I worked from home continuing my task of added bulleted information points on artifacts. I am assuming that the items that have a extensive amount of reference materials will be those making the cut to be uploaded online once the project gets to that point. Made up the hour lost on Monday due to my train out of Barrington, IL running late.

Thursday: Still grinding away by going through the research materials I assembled from the archives in MSI to add bulleted points of relevant information on artifacts to make the lives of the Director, Curator, and assistant easier allowing them to focus on more advanced research and other duties.

Week 3: 6/21-25/2021

Monday: Continued transcription of the Fire Fighting Exhibit. Nearly finished with it. Working from home is getting better as I am getting a better pace of work and less distractions.

Tuesday: I was able to get some opportunities for front-facing guest interaction and educations as I gave my first MSI tour. Two individuals from my organization, the 501st Legion, came down from Green Bay for a Chicago vacation. They had seen my positive posts about being at MSI and wanted to come see it for themselves. I asked Dr. Saridakis if I could learn how to give a tour on my own, to which she agreed. In my inaugural tour I took them around the great hall's exhibits, being careful to focus on items of which I had some background in to better give a small education on the artifacts. My strength is in the Hall of Transportation in which houses the Spitfire, Stuka and new Boeing 727. On the floor I pointed out the Millburn and Tesla electric cars as well. After going at what seemed a quick pace, we made our way over to the Hall of Bicycles, and weaved back to the floor. I took them to U-505 which is my strongest exhibit. Military history is my focus, and I don't ever tire of going to see U-505. In the most surprise to my guests, they were granted a behind the scenes walk-through of Collections in which Dr. Saridakis kindly donated her time to open the vault for us. She accompanied me, but gave me the reigns to get a feel for my first guided walk-through of Collections which is a duty all in the department should be familiar, and comfortable doing. I feel I did well for my first time, and gained experience in doing the same for the following day for a larger, planned tour by mHub. I took my guests out to lunch where my supervisors did a few weeks ago. It ran over time, so I'll make up the hour later at home.

Wednesday: Today was the day of the big planned of tour by Chicago tech company, mHub. My supervisor was not available in the morning so I filled out some other documents and found other work to do until she came in. This was sorting through the former archivist's boxes of files and articles looking for relevant materials that would be of use to the registrar. I had been doing this the day before as well before my guests came in at 11AM. There was a A LOT of material, but there was plenty of relevant stuff, including a complete file on the cars, and motorcycles in the MSI collection which included a recent appraisal of each item in inventory. I found the motorcycles of interest and made copies for myself to be of use on future behind the scenes tours (you pick a handful of items scattered at various checkpoints to engage with guests about. There just isn't enough time to go row by row.) mHub was scheduled for 3:30, but didn't not come until 4ish. My recent work with the fire fighting artifacts proved critically relevant as one of the guests was working on technology for fire fighters to pull up a 3D schematic on a app to see where the beams, and wiring is without them having to hack through the walls to find it. He was very much interested in the various fire fighting artifacts and thankfully I was a part of his group throughout the tour. Exhibitions engineer Jeff brought out two 1930's Ediphones, and while he was setting up I had a lengthy chat with him regarding his duties and responsibilities at MSI which proved insightful.

Thursday: I wasn't as productive today as I wanted to be in part to some distractions in my personal life. I will make this time up on Saturday. Continued work on transcription of relevant facts to the fire fighting exhibit

Saturday: I finally finished the fire fighting exhibit items and look forward to trying my hand at writing short labels based on returning to the material I have. This label writing experience will be invaluable in such a professional capacity. It will be nice to have this skills honed, refined and on a professional level. I trudged the remaining artifacts, and put more time off the clock to finish so I can begin on my favorite exhibit, U505 on Monday!

Week 4: 6/28-7/2/2021

Monday: I came in and had my weekly 10AM meeting with Voula, and moved onto U-505/WWII items. Same as with the fire exhibit, finding files in the accession archive, scanning relevant materials to take home for work at home.

Tuesday: I continued scanning, and gather materials. At 1:00 PM I took photos of all the labels in the U-505 exhibit for transcription by one of the volunteers, Mary. I then at 2:30 I worked with Director McCarthy cataloguing some more artifact ranks in storage. At 4:10PM I asked if I could get a photo handling a textile artifact for both the experience of doing so and seeing one of U-505's flags not only in person, but to carefully handle, and touch. Director McCarthy and Dr. Saridakis both kindly indulged my request and it was a truly awesome experience for me. I also learned that there is a later train than I usually take. That bit of info is helpful just in case I ever miss the 5 o'clock train out of Chicago back to my home train station of Barrington, IL!

Wednesday: As I did with the firefighting exhibit and items, I continued bulleting down relevant facts and information. I created a new word doc just as I done previously with the Fire Fighting artifacts.

Thursday: Continued transcription. I look forward to trying my hand at writing some labels and short descriptions. I still can barely believe I am being paid to work on items I already love learning about.

Saturday: Made up 1 hour from Thursday.

Week 5: 7/5-9/2021

Monday: Unpaid holiday for MSI employees. I am going to work half a day today so I only have to work 4 hours later in the week to make up for today. I am going to look over my U505/WWII artifacts and see if any really stand out as candidates for getting labels and descriptions.

Tuesday: I came in Tuesday and had my weekly meeting with Voula. Since the program is half-way over at this point the decision for now is for me to focus on the U-505/WWII artifacts and to also focus on writing a few labels for some of the Fire Fighting exhibit artifacts. I also took photos of all the labels in the U-505 and will transcribe that exhibit to it is available in a word doc to be transferred to the digital site - one day. I then worked with Kathleen in storage to continue cataloging artifacts, in three hours we nearly inputted over 200 artifacts.

Wednesday: I came in and got to work on transcription since there are no more additional accession files to pull and scan. MSI has just brought on a new assistant curator for a year to help with the digitization of the archives and storage. It is a daunting task! But one that will streamline Collections at MSI and make pulling artifacts extremely easy and hopefully foster some excitement from the public online to see items that otherwise sit in a dark, temperature controlled room. I also had the honor of getting to write a pitch to put up a "pop up" U-505 exhibit up in downtown. That was very exciting to me, along with the confidence gained because of the trust to do that. I wrote a few drafts to which the Director edited down. Very happy to be useful with a project that is extremely relevant to my interests.

Thursday: Continued transcription of the U-505 exhibit and writing a few labels that will then be edited by the Curator. Being directly involved in what the public will learn from a artifact is very cool to me. Improving on working remotely, efficiently - making a decision right away in the morning after a shower to begin work is a great guard against procrastination and working late to fairly submit the hours for the day. A regular schedule when self set and stuck to is extremely effective.

Saturday: Continued work on the U-505 items from home.

Week 6: 7/12-16/2021

Monday: I started working right away after waking up. I want to finish my transcription of the U-505 exhibit which includes every wall panel, all artifacts and everything else in between. I went past midnight and just hit a stride, "in the zone, so to speak."

Tuesday: I worked through the night while on a roll. I didn't look at the clock, I just kept going! Reminded me of the old all-nighters I used to pull. I was excited to be finally complete with this project. I took it upon myself to transcribe the entire exhibit since it only existed on the walls and printed material. With it digitized this will be a tremendous help to the department. I finished it and even double checked Flickr for any photos I may have missed taking myself. I only missed only small panel, but all quotes, stories, artifacts... everything came to a 50 page, 20,000 word document. I look forward to seeing Voula's reaction when I print it out tomorrow! I also made a copy of just the artifacts for MSI so when they want to put some online they'll know what is theirs outright. In my previous job I worked 10 hour shifts so this felt familiar, I enjoy doing four 10-hour days to hit 40 back then and enjoy 3-day weekends. This is less hours, but I am grateful none-the-less to have the time to use for other projects, books and hobbies.

Wednesday: Voula's reaction to the massive transcription was great. I also placed the document in SharePoint so that anyone in Collections can access it. I am sure it will be a great aid in the future when a quick reference is needed for U-505. Today was also the MSI Employee picnic which was great. I took a couple pictures and video. Sodexo made me a Angus half pound burger which was great. I sat by myself since I came after our intern/departmental MSI zoom meeting held by Talent so we could learn how MSI is a collaborative effort and chat with the heads of other departments which was cool. I followed and email Mike Welsh to set up a tour of what Construction and Grounds does around the Museum. Most folks went to the picnic at noon, and our meeting didn't conclude until 1:10PM. Thankfully though Voula stayed a little after and we chatted at the table I was at. MSI redid the Smart Home area and it's a very nice shaded, little park. Definitely never been there before as a guest. Very cool to be a part of the "in-crowd." I took a longer lunch to take it all in.

Thursday: Since I busted my butt Monday into Tuesday and enjoyed yesterday I only had to do two hours today. I sat in the other half of the MSI intern/departmental Zoom meeting which featured Collections/Exhibitions and HR. I had the best chat with Exhibitions and the public relations managers. I will send emails to follow up with both of them as I find their work fascinating, and might as well - only here for a short time and it be an absolute waste to not take utter advantage of it. I cleaned up some of my Word documents and doubled check for syntax errors.

Thats it! You, and me, are now all up to date! I will continue to make weekly postings until its conclusion! I will also add some photos in the following posts, this is a long post so stay tuned, it will be less dense.

#museum of science and industry #Loyola university chicago #chicago #curator #intern #firefighter #u505

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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 5 years

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Master list of my Carry On fanfic

I’ve seen this done recently and decided maybe it would be a good idea for me to organize my fics a bit, now that I’ve got more than 20 of them posted! Sometimes people are in a mood for a one shot, sometimes a multi-chapter fic, sometimes both. Here’s my master list of all my fics at ao3 including my WIPs.

One shots:

Friday I’m in Love Post canon fluff where Baz has a post exam surprise for Simon but Penny comes home first. I like to imagine Fiona has nurtured a love of 80's alternative music in Baz. Particularly bands like The Cure, The Smiths, Joy Division, Duran Duran, Siouxsie and the Banshees, hence the title. Idea came to me as I was baking my first batch of cherry scones.

Stay to the End A post canon late night conversation between Baz and Simon. Some fluff, some angst. Lots of talk about vampires and the long term.

You Make Me Feel Like I Am Home Again Leavers Ball fic. Simon and Baz at Watford for Baz's last night. What happens after their dance at the ball. Conversations, late night snacks, pilgrimages around Watford and a return to Mummer's House. Soft moments, much needed conversations and flustered Baz. Glorious and brilliant art by the inimitable @vkelleyart https://vkelleyart.tumblr.com/image/180908698942

Play the Game Simon and Baz are unexpectedly snowed in for the weekend. They find plenty of activities to occupy their time. A domestic, fluffy Simon and Baz fic set post-canon. This is a gift fic for @vkelleyart as a thank you for her glorious art and a shout out to her love of board games.

Just Another Kiss A one shot where SImon and Baz visit Penny during her term abroad in Chicago. Fluff, boyfriends, arctic weather, and an unexpected kiss-cam. Written as a birthday gift fic for @penpanoply who requested a giggling, laughing kiss.

In Between Days Baz visits Simon at Penny’s on the weekends during his last term at Watford. Simon isn't himself and Baz is focused on distracting him. Soft boys, protective Baz, clothes shopping, curry, and conversation. Written for @vkelleyart based on the prompt she liked “being unable to open their eyes for a few moments after a kiss.”

I Couldn’t Love You More Simon and Baz at a posh evening event, set post canon. Pure self-indulgent fluff. Boys in love. Inspired by the gorgeous art posted by @dancingwithdinosaurs on Instagram. Written as a gift for @dancingwdinosaurs I found myself writing this fic immediately after viewing the art.

Let Your Laughter Fill the Room Snowbaz prompt: Simon and Baz laughing their asses off. Like, falling down, snorting, clapping each other on the back, tears in their eyes where they can’t catch their breath-hilarity. Where things quiet down and they look at whatever set them off and then Baz snorts and Simon laughs and they just start cracking up all over again. Prompt from @fight-surrender

nb: the autocorrect fails in this fic have some nsfw words

A series of one shots written for the Carry On Countdown:

Love is Like the Flowers Flower shop AU for Carry On Countdown 2018 first day prompt. A two chapter fic. Simon works in a flower shop. A handsome reticent young man makes repeat visits to the shop and piques Simon's interest. Little does he know Baz isn't there for just the flowers. Chapter two written as a gift for @fight-surrender from the kiss prompt she gave me for “kissing, then staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouth.”

Always Something There to Remind Me Written for the Nostalgia prompt for Carry On Countdown on Tumblr. Baz and Simon at Pitch Manor before setting out to find Nicodemus. The scene where Simon ends up wearing Baz's jumper and how that happened. Simon stumbles on a box in Baz's closet and snoops a bit.

Home Is Wherever I’m With You Written for the Carry On Countdown 2018 Nov. 27 prompt Abroad. Simon and Baz are spending their first summer together in London. Baz plans a weekend getaway for Simon but things don't go quite as he planned.

As You Wish Written for the Nov 28 Carry On Countdown prompt Fluff. Simon and Baz on a weekend night at home. Simon has some work to do to get Baz appropriately caught up on pop culture. He's also dealing with an underfed vampire. A night in at home fluff for these two boys.

Lead Me Into Your Darkness Written for the Carry On Countdown 2018 November 29 prompt Mythology. Simon and Baz are Persephone and Hades but with a twist on the original story.

With A Little Help From My Friends Written for the Carry On Countdown 2018 Nov 30 prompt Hogwarts AU. Simon and Baz first meet on the Hogwarts Express and bond over the Sorting Hat experience. An early meeting and early friendship.

Here Comes the Sun Written for the Carry On Countdown 2018. Dec 3 prompt Sunset/Sunrise. Except this fic starts with early morning musings at sunrise for Simon and ends with a shared sunset back at Watford for them both. Soft in love Baz and Simon. Post canon setting.

You Can Read Me Anything Written for the Carry On Countdown prompt Bookstore AU. Baz and Simon are university students. Baz works in a bookstore. Simon's looking for a gift for Penny. Misunderstandings, embarrassing situations, spilled coffee and unexpected gift wrap. A story of love that starts under awkward circumstances but manages to move on from there. Any opportunity to throw shade on the Mage taken.

Multi chapter fics:

Close to Me A collection of Simon and Baz stories. Each chapter is a one-shot. A series of ficlets written based on a Tumblr OTP question prompt list I posted on tumblr. Chapters are based on the individual asks I received. Story title is the Cure song. Because you know Baz likes angsty 80's music.

Can’t Find My Way Home Former school roommates Baz and Simon run into each other at an airport when their flight is cancelled due to inclement weather. They team up to try to get home for the holiday but luck is not on their side. A Carry On Travel AU with planes, trains, automobiles, snowstorms, road trip mishaps, and mutual pining. Expect oblivious boys, bickering and banter, gratuitous use of tropes, and quite a bit of romance. A non-magical AU.

Behind Closed Doors Non-magical AU. Baz is doing his best to keep his mother's beloved Watford afloat but CEO David Mage is making that more difficult with each passing day. The finances are what Baz needs to focus on but Mage's personal assistant, the devastatingly attractive Simon Snow, is becoming more and more of a distraction. The annual company Christmas party unexpectedly throws them together and their mutual pining results in a clandestine relationship that could threaten both of their careers and break their hearts. Miscommunication, misunderstandings, nosy coworkers, overbearing bosses, and the challenges of speaking from the heart create mayhem for them both. Of note this is starting as a T rating but may well go up to an M. Originally conceived as a one-shot gift fic for @krisrix that has now burgeoned into a full blown multi-chapter fic. WIP

Never Tear Us Apart Simon and Baz have comfortably settled into their relationship and their university studies. Summer is here and with Penny visiting Micah in America they can finally indulge in the relaxing summer holidays together. But then a bewildering letter arrives for Simon and they find themselves following a trail of clues that might lead them to discovering Simon's true parentage. Soft boys in love, road trips, misunderstandings, uncomfortable conversations around the dinner table--Simon and Baz discover more than they expected about each other and about Simon's mysterious past. Written for the Carry On Big Bang 2018/2019. WIP

Dance the Night Away Dev and Niall have their suspicions about why Baz is being such a prick this summer. Or rather more of a prick than usual. Their idea of a night on the town to get him to confide in them doesn't quite go as planned. Featuring Dev and Niall POV, Baz being evasive, and dancing. Takes place the summer before eighth year and then about a year post canon. Written for @basic-banshee

Written as a companion piece to my fic Never Tear Us Apart, taking place just after chapter 10.

Chapter written for the Carry On Round Robin:

3) Frozen Baz has been avoiding Simon. Simon's not having it. Tempers are lost, things chill out, morning brings some interesting revelations.

#carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #My writing #my fics #tbazzsnow

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shelly-ah · 4 years

Text

MDZS / CQL FIC RECS 2ND BATCH

The steps to acceptance by dea-liberty on Ao3

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)

魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

Relationship:

Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters:

Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Lán Qǐrén

Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī

Lán Jǐngyí

Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén

Additional Tags:

Post-Canon

Canon-Compliant

outsider pov

Angst with a Happy Ending

so many feelings

a lot of feelings

Found Families

Published: 2019-12-12 Words: 5.208 Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

And there his nephew kneels and takes hit after hit after hit after hit, tears in his eyes, blood in his mouth – and his heart already broken. It’s almost like the pain doesn’t touch him, and Lan Qiren supposes love has already torched his very soul.

No, Lan Qiren does not have a high opinion of love – and he definitely does not have a high opinion of Wei Wuxian.

Lan Qiren thinks love brings nothing - less than nothing, just pain and misery and futility - until he realises that, maybe, love is powerful beyond measure.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21768316

More under the cut!

cold dark earth by tunnelOFdawn on Ao3

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

Relationship:

Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters:

Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén

Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín

Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo

Jīn Guāngshàn

Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe

Not Canon Compliant

Fierce Corpse Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Non-Consensual Kissing

POV Outsider

POV Multiple

Published: 2019-12-31 Words: 3.128 Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Hanguang-jun is dead.

Qishan Wen knows better.

His grave is empty.

[One night, Wei Wuxian gets drunk off of homemade wine. The soft dusting of pink across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose gentle his features. The haze in his eyes does not match the vibrancy of his smile.

“The first time I met Lan Zhan was when I brought Emperor’s Smile…” he says. Then, he pauses. The haze in his eyes turns into a watery film. Drunk and maudlin, Wei Ying gazes down at the cup in his hands.

“First time...last time...and now he’s dead. Well, not now...a while...we didn’t even get to bury him…” Wei Ying continues and ultimately trails off.

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning says slowly, “I thought Gusu already buried Hanguang-jun.”]

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22043968

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Wait a Minute (Mr. Postman) by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee on Ao3

Rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warning

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

Gen

M/M

Fandoms:

魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

魔道祖师 | Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon)

陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)

Relationship:

Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters:

Original Male Character(s)

Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī

Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín

Jīn Líng | Jīn Rúlán

Lán Qǐrén

Sòng Lán | Sòng Zǐchēn

Lán Jǐngyí

Niè Huáisāng

Additional Tags:

Post-Canon

Humor

POV Outsider

postal service

Hijinks & Shenanigans

Attempt at Humor

this is very silly

Please Don't Take This Seriously

Published: 2020-01-01 Words: 7.079 Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

“Is that a…body?” “No,” the student says with a smile while the shadowy figure mumbles, “Um. Yes.” They pause and look at each other. “Is it a fierce corpse?” Fan Feihong asks, suddenly concerned, “Because fierce corpse transportation costs extra.”

The Cultivation World has a postal service. Fan Feihong is the long-suffering postal service worker running around trying to deliver a package to Wei Wuxian (whoever that is, he has no idea what's going on, really)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22066321

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我想... 可能是我错怪了你 | I think... Maybe I Was Too Quick To Judge by PotterheadAvengerDemigod on Ao3

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warnings

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

Gen

M/M

Fandoms:

魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

魔道祖师 | Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon)

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

Founder of Diabolism

Relationships:

Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén & Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters:

Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén

Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

there's...

pretty much no one else in this fic?

which is really strange to me bc this is a fic thats like 4k+ words?

and actually has plot?

welp - Character

Additional Tags:

Family

Family Feels

Family Drama

Kinda?

Family Fluff

is there fluff? i guess so

Family Bonding

Brotherly Love

Brothers

Brotherly Affection

Big Brothers

Protective Older Brothers

oof i didnt know that was a tag but its so accurate i love it

Fluff

Fluffy Ending

Bonding

Married Couple

Married Life

Forgiveness

Thirteen Years of Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn's Death

not really but mentioned emotions during that period?

Light Angst

Angst and Feels

Happy Ending

Implied/Referenced Suicide

just one sentence mentioning it but tagging it just to be safe

rated for like one bad joke courtesy of wwx ofc

Published: 2019-04-28 Words: 3.961 Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

That Lan Xichen does not fully approve of his brother-in-law is a secret to most everyone. It is a feeling that he keeps hidden from everyone that he can, because he sees the way Wangji looks at Wei Wuxian, and Xichen will not deprive his brother of any happiness. So Xichen keeps his thoughts to himself, hides the way anger simmers lowly in his heart and disdain fights to paint itself across his features.

/OR/ Basically the one that explores the fact that Lan Xichen is not just all smiles and optimism.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18630499

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Above the Mist of the Cloud Recesses by EquinoxSolstice on Ao3

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories:

F/M

M/M

Fandoms:

魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

魔道祖师 | Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon)

Relationships:

Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín/Niè Huáisāng (mentioned)

Characters:

Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén

Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī

Lán Qǐrén

Gūsū Lán Sect Disciples

Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín (Mentioned)

Nie HuaiSang (mentioned)

Additional Tags:

Domestic Fluff

Domestic Bliss

Arranged Marriage

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Married Couple

Hurt/Comfort

Fluff

Fluff and Angst

Families of Choice

Public Display of Affection

Drama & Romance

Established Relationship

Yiling Laozu Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

For Wei Wuxian's birthday

Protective Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Flustered Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Adopted Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī

Attempt at Humor

Post-Sunshot Campaign

AKA: How many titles for wife can Lan Wangji use for Wei Wuxian: the fic

Lan Xichen is the best big brother in the entire cultivation world

Fix-It of Sorts

Published: 2019-10-31 Words: 8.450 Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

“Good morning, ai ren.” Lan Wangji says calmly from the table in the corner. Wei Wuxian squeals and tries to smother himself with his pillow.

It’s not a very effective way to die.

(Or: After witnessing his brother’s affections towards his wife, Wei Wuxian playfully tells his husband to also call him by his wifely titles.

It doesn’t go as he expects.)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21209498

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courtorderedcake · 5 years

Text

Roses : A CS retelling of ‘Tam Lin’

Hi, everyone! Thanks to @kmomof4 and the extremely talented @eastwesthomeisbest for their patience on this. As usual, thanks to @ultraluckycatnd who I would be lost without, the woman is a monster editing machine, and super beta. I live for my updates from her. Without further ado, here is my laaaaaaaaaaaate contribution to @cssns. You get TWO chapters for the price of one! WHOA!

Read on Ao3 right here, darlings! Chapter 1/4 Chapter 2/4

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

If there was one trope in fairytales that Emma hated, it was the lonely orphan who found parents and lived happily ever after in a beautiful castle. Her first problem with it was that while she hadn’t met any royalty, she doubted that most of them lost track of their children that often. Or, if they were separated, that a prince or princess would be placed in a crowded Boston orphanage. Her second problem was that there were only so many countries in the world, and even less with a missing monarch. Even diplomats and billionaires were few and far between in that category.

So, on a rainy April afternoon when she returned to her apartment, she did not expect to see a fresh faced courier waiting for her. Although she wasn’t old by any means at 28, the boy looked about 12 with his baby face as he asked her to sign for the letter. She gave a scribble, handed him a wadded bunch of bills from her bag, and stumbled inside to peel off her rain slicker. Throwing aside the envelope of what was probably more of her husband's accounts that she was now responsible for, Emma opted for a nap before work instead. It was until she landed a successful skip that night that she felt ready to tackle another batch of what remained from Neal's legacy.

Kicking off her heels, which were most likely ruined from the rain, she collapsed on her couch. With a wiggle, the skin tight red number was off and she basked in the freedom of being nude as she searched her floor for a clean t-shirt and a pair of lounge pants. Looking at the letter, she picked it up and placed it between her teeth, paused to put her hair in what she hoped would resemble a ponytail, and pulled to rip it open. Letting the envelope fall to the floor, she grabbed her thick rimmed glasses to read the small script.

Her roommate, Mary Margaret, came out of her room. “Emma? It’s 4 am, did you just get back?”

“Mmmmyar.” Emma replied, scanning the text. Her late husband's family crest and name, long discarded after his death, was printed on top of the document. She shuddered at the golden medallions adorning a darkened shield, and the scaled, lizard like, dragon that curling around it.

“Well… OK, but do you want some coffee? David's here and we're getting up early to -”

“Holy. Fucking. Grilled cheese and onion rings.” Emma breathed heavily, staring wide eyed in shock at the papers in front of her.

“What are you swearing on such sacred foods for?” Mary Margaret quirked an eyebrow in amused concern.

“I've just inherited an estate valued at £800,000.” Emma flicked her eyes up, mouth a thin line. “Neal's family's fortune, home and grounds apparently. Things I never even knew about.”

“Well.” Mary Margaret sipped her coffee, looking completely nonplussed even if Emma knew on the insides she was bursting - it was how she had earned her nickname Snow Queen after all. “That would do it.”

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

The estate reading took place in Ireland through a crackling speaker box, Emma's eyes racing around the office the entire time. It was stunning, as were what seemed like all the buildings during her trip to gain the deed to her home. This office in particular was what Emma imagined when reading Peter Pan; a gentleman's study and den, complete with whiskey decanter and cigar box to her left as if she had gone back in time. The tall shelves were lined in books with gold leaf letters and rich leather bindings, the panels of dark wood mixed with verdant jade paint and damask almost making up for the unsettling stuffed deer heads.

Cringing, Emma turned back to the box. The voice on the other line was thickly accented with a rolling brogue which Graham assured her in his own was common, and had obviously been in a bad mood long enough for it to be a defining quality.

“Ye don't be wanting Carterhaugh, lass. T’place is cursed, hallow in the way tat echoes, not t’way of blessings.”

Her lawyer smirked, teeth white and extremely straight. Emma had liked Graham Grimm since she had met him, and this was insight into his character. Taste in wall decorations aside, he respected her agency enough to not let this man continue to try to stop the change in ownership. In her experience, lawyers were far too careless and rude. This man was funny, even when she teased him about his name and he had sighed, an eye roll so loud she could hear it through their original phone call.

(Yes, my name is Graham Grimm. Yes, they do sound alike. No, I am not involved with fairytales, unless you consider me a fairy Godmother of estate and divorce settlements. No, I am usually very happy. No, I cannot change into a black shaggy dog, can you please just tell me what the approximate appraisal value is?)

“My client will determine its worth.” His tone was calm and well practiced, even through his own clear lilt, but Emma could hear the edge there just under the surface. He had the heart of a forest hunter; not a threat until prey was too well ensnared in a carefully laid trap. This man on the phone, a Mr. Seáìnns’, had been fighting tooth and nail to keep her from her inheritance, throwing obstacle after obstacle in her way for months now.

At first it was as simple as he refused to understand that Emma wanted to know the family that had abandoned her husband, wanted to feel the last connections she had with him or any family she could, but it quickly devolved into more. Emma was subject to constant harassment by calls and letters, envelopes filled with shredded paper or scribbled notes she could not read, all from this crazy older man in the village that Carterhaugh laid in. This didn't do much more than annoy her, as well as the post office, customs, and the garbage disposal crew. It escalated to him crossing a line when he tried to prove she was not the proper heir, insinuating Neal was a bastard, and further when he tried to declare the estate a historical landmark.

Emma hadn't even seen the damn mansion or castle or whatever an estate was considered. It seemed to vary between every property she had compared what little information she had, the repeated ridiculous notion of having her own ballroom driving her and David giddy with excitement. Mary Margaret rolled her eyes, but David pulling her away to dance made a smile crack across her face. They'd discovered over beers that a ballroom didn't make a home a palace, a question neither David, her, or Mary Margaret had ever thought they'd be asking.

The sound of sputtering rage brought her back to the present.

“You bloody ridiculous ‘n hateful creatures! I know what you are doing, what you're playing at. You can try to find me, but I know your games, and I know this woman is either demon or worse! She'd kill ye before even looking, smile on ‘er face. Calling her client… Yer client doesn't know her ken folk have cursed me, an m’wife, and took -” The line crackled, an electronic whining mixed with metallic pops. A dial tone replaced the man's voice and Graham’s smile faded.

“Well. It seems like your new residence has eccentric neighbors, doesn't it?” Graham laughed, and Emma felt his hand slip into her own. She flinched, pulling away from him and he gave her a sad smile. “Sorry, I -”

“It's alright. I… I'm just not looking for anyone.” Rubbing her palms together to do something with her hands, she pushed away the feeling of wrong that came over her at someone's touch. “I don't think I'll be ready for some time.”

Graham nodded, gathering papers together from his desk. He waited a few long, drawn out, silent minutes before asking, “How long has it been since Mr. Gold's -”

Emma's tone was short, frustration defined in every syllable. “It could have happened yesterday, but it was 2 years ago. We got married fast, it was a blur. It's a difficult topic for me.”

“I'm so sorry I -”

“Can we please see the estate?” Pinching her brow as a migraine set in, Emma heard Graham clear his throat and stand.

“Absolutely. It's a few hours from here, if you'd like to get lunch and car pool -”

“I'll take my car. Lead the way.”

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

Driving through the small town of Carterhold, Emma could see why locals may be wary of change. The town was a sleepy and picturesque village, stone homes with thatched or moss covered rooftops that stood sparsely around a small town center. From there, through the foggy clouds that swirled through a dense forest, trees climbed up the slope of a massive hill, emerald fingers that reached for the plains leading up to Carterhaugh’s imposing presence, and its perch on the cliffs over the sea. The wind shifted, and it was gone, swallowed again by mist, but Graham was already making the slow ascent up a winding road.

Emma heard a thud, jerking the steering wheel as someone barreled into her bug, broad shoulders and crazed eyes under matted hair barely visible through her wet windows.

“What the -”

The words had barely left her mouth when an unmistakable voice was yelling at her, rambling incoherently as he pounded on her door.

“Ye kinnit go to Carterhaugh! Ye kinnit have it ye bloody witch or fairy demoness! ‘Tis on Hallowed and protected ground, guarded, an ye haven't a clue what I will do to protect it from you, ye - ” The face of Mr. Seáìnns was lit by lightning, eyes blazing bright blue, thunder from his fists against the passenger door and the sky. Emma felt panic in her chest, heavy and leaden.

Slamming her foot on the accelerator, Emma let the bug lurch into its unused highest speeds as she flew up the road to Carterhaugh.

The driveway was curved elegantly behind an imposing metal and stone gate, mossy spheres capping the tall towering structure. The manor itself, even in its disuse, was stunning. A fountain stood before large wooden doors, framed by windows that traveled in neat rows up walls choked in ivy. Two wings on either side curved off from there, both facing the sea and woods, a domed roof on one side for a solarium, another for a ballroom. It was both imposing and impossibly inviting, a mystery that was decayed beyond unraveling.

And it was hers.

Graham helped her inside, the lights crackling in refusal to turn on in the storm as they stood in the atrium, dripping on the stone parquet.

“It's fine, I have a lighter,” Emma shrugged, pulling it out of her jacket pocket. “I always carry one. As a kid I was afraid of being alone in the dark. I somehow always seemed to end up there, either hiding or being forced somewhere, so it helped to make my own magic light to fight away shadows. Probably silly…”

“Not silly at all. It's a common fear based on instinct. Predators lurk in the dark, so your brain says that light is safe,” Graham said simply. “Smart to have it on you to start a fire too, or warm up in the wilderness.”

Emma's lips tightened as he continued on about the practicality of the lighter. She turned, expecting him to get the hint, but he followed her while continuing on about the merits of different wood to burn or oils to keep to sustain a good burn. Emma found herself wishing for a nice birch branch just to whack him with. As her annoyance peaked, the lights flickered on.

“Well. No candles I guess, but let's get you a fire started in the hearth, and then I'll be on my way.” Graham paused, and looked down, shuffling his shiny leather shoes. “Unless… I can stay if you like, until you get used to the place or have someone to stay with you, you know, because it's a big older house and -”

“I think I'll manage.” The words crept out more icily than she wanted, but he nodded with a sheepish wave of his hand.

“That's fine. Just call if you do find you need something. I'll get someone out here, and then be out myself in an hour or so. I don't want to see you get swallowed up by a house this big.” He smiled and Emma returned it genuinely, touched by his offer. If she didn't know how men dangled kindness in the face of women like her to get something in return, she would have taken him seriously. But Neal… Neal had ruined her.

The fire in the hearth was easy enough to start, even without special wood. Taking off her boots and coat, she gazed into the flame and planned out her course of action. Her sparse belongings were in the bug, and furniture would be delivered as soon as she took stock of what remained and measured for new pieces. Sighing and rubbing her temples, Emma rolled out her sleeping bag. She was asleep as soon as her eyes closed.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

In the morning, light flitting through the windows and the chill of the fire's death woke her up far earlier than her usual time. Wandering out to the bug, she dragged her luggage inside, pulling on extra socks and layering her sweaters. The effect was comical, but warm. Her stomach growled, but the kitchen was a quick - and musty - find. Sticking to pop tarts instead of whatever the swamp like gloop in the sink was, Emma set to work making a written game plan.

Calling contractors would wait until reasonable hours, but she mapped out who she would need while taking stock of furniture, books, tapestries, busts, and paintings. To her surprise, much of the home was in decent condition, and she easily found a bedroom suite that overlooked the sea cliffs from a secure balcony, a fireplace with stone carved boats in its inlay, an almost modern bathroom, and to her absolute delight, had a storybook fairytale four poster bed. The linens were almost new, the pillows fluffy , and it smelled of sea salt, leather, spice, and rum. If she didn't know how alone she was, the room would seem almost home to someone.

As normal waking hours approached, Emma went outside to survey the gardens and landscape. Most of the plants were dead around the house itself, but the gardens and connected solarium were wild and overrun with blooms. Down the hill, wildflowers in rainbow spectrum danced in the wind, their colors like an eruption of the Crayola crayons Emma had to share in school.

Something moved out of the corner of her eye, and a dark shape made its way around to the front of the manor. Emma grabbed a rusted shovel from a garden bed, and crept towards where the intruder had gone. She found the man looking curiously at her bug. He was tall, dark hair blowing in the wind, scratching his neck in confusion. In his hand was a hook.

“Don't touch my car and I won't have to hurt you, buddy!” Emma yelled, wielding the shovel in her hands like a baseball bat. The man turned, surprised.

Blue. The first thing that Emma noticed was how blue his eyes were; how clear and beautiful the blue she saw in those eyes reflected the color of the sky above. The eyes that currently were gazing at her in confusion.

“Who are you?” he asked, raising his hands above his shoulders, as if she were police. In his left hand was not a hook, but a three pronged garden trowel. Some impression she made, thinking about urban legends this late in life.

“Better question, Alex Trebek, is who the hell are you?” Emma snarled.

“I’m the, er, gardener, madam.” He waved the garden trowel in the direction of a nearby wheelbarrow. There was something off in the way he spoke, the accent strange to her. “Killian. Killian Jones.”

“Gardener?” Emma would had refused staff had she known they existed, and had made sure that she was for the most part alone. He shouldn't be here, especially not with her. Anger boiled over to cover her fear. “You’ve done a great job of things.” Gesturing at the dead plant life around the dilapidated manor, she watched his eyes narrow. “You’re truly magic with landscaping.” This comment brought a dark smile to his face that left her feeling like he was in on the punch line of a joke she hadn’t heard.

“Well, if you’d contact the ruddy owner and let him know to add to the budget for gardening...” The English accent was evident in his voice now, the clear definition between Irish and it what had been off to her ears as she watched his cheeks reddening. Emma gave him a wolfish grin.

“I think that can be arranged.” She gave him a curt nod, before pointing to herself, which he appraised with lips curled back. “Emma Swan. Official new ‘ruddy owner’ of Carterhaugh.”

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

The Gold family estate had beautiful gardens. At one time they even had cultivated a rare buttercup and rose hybrid, so they had been very particular on who tended their gardens. A quick call to Graham that took several minutes of cell phone aligning to make confirmed that Killian Jones actually was listed on a small ledger, his family name written on yellowing paper, noted as “horticultural help”.

“I don't know how I missed this, it's like it just appeared here Miss Swan,” Graham had groaned, yawning into his end of the line. Static cracked through her cell phone speakers as fog rolled over the driveway. “But yes, he is explicitly listed as coming with the property.”

“Great. And you're sure I can't fire him without penalty?”

“No, I'm sorry. This is written in a ridiculously old way, as if they're counting him as property. He can resign, but even then -” There were several moments of garbled reply that was incomprehensible. Emma huffed, kicking rocks and pacing until she caught a better signal, and Graham's voice snapped back on the line. “-Look into it more as I do some digging. You're out of luck. Do you want me to come stay? I'm happy to while you wait for another friend -”

“No, no, it’s fine. He’s not creepy, he just seems…” Chewing her lip thoughtfully, she struggled for words. “He seems, lonely. Just sort of desperate and excited for company, which I thought I could avoid by being out here. I just wanted to be alone, or at the very least I guess with someone I didn't worry about… Well. I just don't do yokels or men, and he seems a pinch of both.”

Dead air hung on the other line, followed by a faint, eerie whispering.

“Graham?”

The sound of a low laugh, as quiet as blown leaves over cold pavement sounded over the line, and Emma dropped her phone with a start.

“Are you alright?” came the sudden voice from behind her, and she whirled on her heel.

"I'd be fine if you made noise when you walked, buddy, and if I could get some damn reception out here." Emma huffed, and the grounds keeper seemed to decide against saying anything, quickly snapping his mouth shut. "Do you know a better place to get service?"

In the fog and chill breeze of the gravel drive, Emma suddenly felt a deep sense of foreboding and unease. The shadow of Carterhaugh loomed, as if reaching for her, Killian already swallowed by the scrawled shape in the morning sun. He seemed uneasy as well, even unnerved. Emma watched as his jaw muscles worked as if he quite literally chewed on her words before speaking.

"I could set up a tea service, if you'd like, but I'm afraid you'll find neither a service or reception out here. Nothing but chill." He made a gesture for her to follow him, which she did with a wry smile. He thought he had a sense of humor. Wonderful.

As he prepared tea from a silver set in one of the many kitchen cabinets, they made attempts at conversation. Killian was also a caretaker for the property, and he asked her how she came about ownership as they sat at the large oak dining table together. The furniture was remarkably well preserved in the majority of the main rooms, much to her delight.

The sunshine through moth eaten curtains had dust motes swirling in the air as her face fell, and she swallowed the bile that rose before she uttered her tight words.

“My husband passed away.” Killian had winced at that.

“I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure he was -”

“I don't… I don't discuss Neal.” She closed her eyes tightly, taking deep breaths, feeling her skin flame. Even after what felt like an eternity, Neal's shadow still darkened her day. She sipped her tea, trying to cool herself, even with the scalding liquid.

He hadn't asked any more on the subject, only asking about changes to what affected his work. Emma found it comforting; if he was to stay, at least he would leave well enough alone.

“I'd like to stay here, if you don't mind. I have a master suite facing the sea on the third level of the east wing, and I know there'll be nothing in town for rent,” he stated. Emma chewed her lip in thought, mapping out his room in relation to her own. The answer struck her, and she groaned with a scrunched face of annoyance.

“Do you get up early? Probably don't keep a fire lit?” she grumbled, and he looked at her with eyes narrowed.

“Yes, I'm up as early as possible, and I find I enjoy the chilled sea air. Why?”

“And I bet you have a dove gray comforter.” Emma sighed, head falling into her palm with a wry laugh. “Because of course, just of course -”

“I do, aye -” He blinked and his brows shot up. “Were you..? Did you sleep in my room?”

“Well, no, but I didn't know it was -”

“I mean, it's fine. I'll choose another, I guess -”

“No. No need to be ridiculous. I… You probably know where the next best preserved bed is?” she asked, and his eyes lit up.

“Well yes, but you'd be in the same wing, is that alright?”

Emma hesitated, and then nodded. “With you up so early I doubt we'd see much of each other. And I'll be busy inside as you work outside.”

He made a non-committal noise, and stood with a stretch. Emma inhaled sharply; he was well toned and very good looking, but the thought of anyone’s hands on her after Neal had…

Her stomach churned.

“Follow me, then,” he said, offering his hand. Emma could feel her lungs tightening. Her expression must have frozen on her face too, because his eyes widened and he lowered his hand. “Or we could do this later, if you -”

Emma stood, and shook her head. “Just got a bit dizzy. Lead the way.”

They made no conversation as he led her up the staircase to the third level, the other suite he mentioned on the far end of the hall whereas his was at the beginning. The large door was imposing but carved with floral inlay, the stain perfectly applied to add to its richness. Both sides were flanked by stained glass in the same twisted vine and flower designs.

“I almost chose this room. It was for the lady of this house at one time, and should serve you better than me.” Killian produced a key with the same designs swirled around the brass, unlocking it to reveal a sun warmed sitting area the color of blushing peonies. An ornate vanity sat in one corner, while a matching bureau and canopy bed sat before a balcony, from which the sea and his own room visible. Stained glass curved around the doors to what she assumed were the closet and bathroom, and more carved wood and glass made up a truly spectacular fireplace. If Killian’s room was big, this room was truly gigantic.

Emma was at a loss, the furniture was all beautifully intact except for the bed’s canopy curtains and linens. Beyond that, the fabrics and rugs showed no large evidence of wear, the patterns still bright and soft underfoot. She poked her head in the closet and found it relatively large, possibly a maid's room or changing salon at one time, then turned the handle of the bathroom while Killian watched from the entrance.

The huge claw foot soaking tub and gold veined marble under her feet could not prepare her for the large stained glass framed window that captured the sea, as if she was sailing away in the tub itself. A double sink, open shower, and large mirror completed the space in luxury. It was exquisite, and left Emma aching for a bubble bath.

“I'll move your things, if you -”

“No,” she whispered, still in awe, before clearing her throat. “No, that's alright. I'll move everything. I… I don't like people touching my things.”

“At least allow me to give you my spare set of bedding, love, and -”

“I am not your love, alright?” she snapped, and his eyes widened. She took in a steadying breath, chewing her lip to rid herself of the sourness she wanted to throw at him. He seemed mollified, scratching behind his ear.

“I'm sorry, I -”

“No. I'm sorry. It's been… I have… I don't do people very well.”

“Well, I'll get you the linens and be out of your way, then.” There was resignation in his tone, but Emma could only hug herself as she let her armor build back up around her.

“Perfect. Thank you.” Her tone was clipped, but she didn't expect the annoyed response, huffed under his breath as he pulled blankets and pillows from a hall closet.

“As you wish, Princess.”

Emma's tone was colder than ice, her words spoken in frigid staccato. “Excuse me? I must have misheard you.”

“I wasn't expecting the new owner to be all business, is what I said. These corridors are old. If you aren’t careful, these halls will try to trick you. You’ll get used to them, though.” Killian deposited the mountain of linen on her bed, and spread out the fitted sheet.

“I don't think halls,” she snatched the pillows from the bed, pulling the sheet roughly on the other side, “are capable of trickery. Only people. People are difficult, they need to be watched. You have to keep your eyes on them or they'll do who knows what.” Pulling roughly on the sheet again, she glared with narrowing eyes at Killian, his own eyes glowering under dark lashes. “Especially people who say things under their breath like a petulant, scorned, self absorbed, preening -”

“Well, I would despair if ‘People’ took their eyes off of me. Some might say this attention is in the beholder’s benefit, and I'd say so as well. I'm quite dashing, or so I've heard.” Gripping the comforter tightly, he laid it out and smoothed it down while returning her glare. “So, I suppose we are well matched, since you are an icy, insufferable, stubborn, spoiled -” Reaching for a pillow, his hand grazed her own, and Emma yelped in surprise.

Her breathing quickened as she stared at her skin, Killian’s insults and attempted arguments drowned out by an increasing electrical whine mixed with her heartbeat thumping. Stumbling away into the bathroom, she turned on the tap, desperately washing her skin where they had touched in the rust colored water, scouring the place their skin had met with her nails instead of the absent soap.

Killian’s hand found her shoulder and Emma flew at him, pushing him away as she screamed profanities. He stumbled backwards into the tub, watching in fear at her transformation, her rubbed raw hand bleeding as she renewed her focus on the new area he'd touched. Without soap it was pointless, hot water her only real advantage, pouring the scalding water onto her skin. She mumbled to herself, trying to focus against the onset panic.

Emma's thoughts were burning away elsewhere, the fires she could not escape when Neal had locked her away; smoke, embers and ash acrid in both the air and her lungs.

It took what felt like hours for her to come back to herself, her fingernails bloody and skin blistered from the heat. The gentle chime of the clock in the room indicated it had only been ten minutes to her relief. It was the worst attack she had in ages, the first time in so long she hadn't been able to control herself. The first time in so, so, long that she had fallen back into the flame of those memories, of that pain.

A soft voice whispered gently to her, taking her off guard, and she looked up to see Killian slowly extricating himself from the bathtub. He raised his hands in supplication, kneeling several feet away from her. She choked out a strangled noise and he shook his head.

“It's alright, it's OK, lo - er…” He gave a sheepish look, thinking for a moment. He smiled in a sad sort of way after a moment, before continuing, “It's alright. Just tell me how I can help. Maybe a glass of water?” Emma nodded slowly. “Alright, I'll fetch you a bottle.”

At his retreat, Emma let her herself take stock of what had happened, falling back into her times under clinical observation. Mary Margaret had been a stone faced angel, taking in her pain and working a life around it, going as far as releasing care notes when she felt Emma was ready. She had met David, Emma's adoptive brother that way, resulting in a very happy marriage.

“Patient refuses to accept human contact, even using high concentration chemical cleaning agents on skin.”

“Patient has no history of obsessive or compulsory behavior, but violence and destruction of property are noted in their state welfare file.”

“Attempts at getting patient to explain what happened on the night of the incident to victims causes patient to become increasingly distressed when her husband is mentioned. Questions regarding other victims or the causes of death are met with silence. Patient claims no memory of her actions.”

“Patient indicates possibility of further witnesses or victims at scene - hallucinations caused by trauma or psychosis?”

“Repeated attempts at questioning or explaining patient's obsessive actions or fear of touch are met with hostility, while questioning in regards to matrimonial life is indicative of abuse. Patient advocate (M. M.) recommends home based care, with patient's brother.”

“Patient continues to allow touch in sparing amounts among family, friends, and in situations where they are prepared. Therapy with preferred Doctor is continuing as part of a deferred sentence. Patient advocate (M. M.) states that large improvement has been made outside of care facilities. Recommending end of observational treatment.”

Killian placed the water next to her, as the feeling of oxygen in her lungs weighed her down.

“Thanks.” Emma croaked, voice raspy. Killian sat down in front of her, legs crossed as he watched her drink with shaking hands.

Scratching behind his ear, he looked sideways across the floor, picking at a chipped piece of tile. “It was nothing. I'm sorry that -”

“Don't be. I just have a thing about touch.” Emma stood briskly, ice back in her unsteady tone at glacial levels. “You couldn't have known, and since you are going to be scarcely around it won't be an issue, as we discussed earlier.”

Killian snorted, and stood as well, rocking on his heels. “I was going to say that I'm sorry it took so long, and I brought you some… other items.” His face changed, haughty to solemn, watching her hands tremble as she shoved them in her pockets. “You're right, we won't be seeing each other often. If you need help with something, or finding your way around the estate, leave me a note under my door. If I need garden supplies, I'll leave a note in the kitchen.”

He turned, walking towards the bedroom door. After a moment Emma followed tentatively, walking towards the door behind him in silence. She shot a glance at the bed, noticing the bandages, a tube of some ointment, a key ring, and a few pink roses. She stopped in the small salon, watching Killian open her door and give her a strained smile.

“I'm sorry for touching you, as well.” Emma made a sound of protest, ready to tell him again that he was blameless, but he persisted. “While I couldn't have known, my presence here has never been… convenient. I had hoped that had changed with the new owner. Good day, Miss Swan.”

“Wait -” He looked as surprised as she felt, the words racing past her lips, blurted at the last second. “What is your cell phone number? It'd be easier to get a hold of you that way, if I should need you. Not to say that I will…” Killian stared at her in abrupt confusion, his brows knitting.

“I don't have a phone. The manor has one, should you need to use it.” There was something off in his tone, but her own cell phone had fought every attempt at service on the property, so this shouldn't have been too much of a surprise. The manor phone, she could work with that.

“What's the number?” Emma pulled her phone from her pocket, the screen lighting up. Killian looked amazed in her peripheral, which didn't surprise her. The town was practically medieval, and this phone was the newest of its brand. Emma scarcely knew how to use it.

“You have to set it up later, if you want communication by wire. Your device there -”

“It's an Android, I let the kid at the store set it up for me. If you want me to get you one, I can the next time I go to the city. They have a walkie talkie app that I think might work with a wifi connection once I have that set up.” Killian nodded, looking at her blankly. “Have you ever had Wi-Fi in the house before?”

Killian hesitated, his jaw ticking as he bit into his lip in thought. “I wouldn't know, love. I'm afraid that we’re a bit behind the rest of the world here, I don't believe we know what year it is most of the time.”

Emma laughed lightly, and relaxed a little bit more. “Most of us are trying to forget that it's 2019, so I suppose that's fair. I just enjoy Netflix and the occasional game of Words with Friends too much to go without internet.” Killian looked down at his feet, his face unreadable for a moment, fists balled. When he looked back at her and relaxed, Emma caught a glimpse of pure sadness, a mirror of her own pain, before it was carefully pushed behind walls of his own.

Smiling softly, Killian laughed. “I have no idea what a Netflix is, but you are the Mistress of the estate. I encourage you to do as you wish. If you would like me to have a…” He hesitated again, as if searching for something. “A, er, shell phone, I will gladly oblige if you provide it and give me instruction.”

Emma snorted, and found herself genuinely laughing as Killian’s cheeks turned red. “You're actually funny. Alright. I'll try to get you a ‘shell phone’, old man.” Killian’s eyes darkened, his smile turning almost sour. “Between the two of us, we'll bring some life back into this place.”

He nodded, that same pensive look on his face, almost hidden by his smile. “Yes. Well, taming the estate is not going to be an easy task. I'll help you where I can, should you need me. Good day.” He closed the door slowly, and Emma listened as his footfalls fell away.

Climbing into her bed, the mattress surprisingly plush under her, she bandaged her hand slowly. The roses he'd laid next to the first aid were beautiful, their strong aromatic scent filling the air already. Picking up one of the roses delicately, she sniffed, the full scent absolutely breathtaking. The throbbing of her skin faded, and all at once Emma felt herself relax. She felt invigorated, but her muscles were loose, and she happily moved her things into her room, making sure to place the roses in a porcelain vase.

The rest of the day was spent taking pictures and taking full stock of every room in the large estate. It was exhausting and by the time darkness settled Emma had barely scratched the surface of the repairs needed. Neal had left a large sum of money for her, but this was a giant and expensive endeavor. Back in her room, she started a fire in the hearth and tugged on a robe over her pajamas. Opening the door to the balcony and stepping out onto the cold stone, she stared at the waves.

Never, never in her wildest dreams did she believe that this could be her life. In the moment it was overwhelming, the only silver lining in the thunder cloud that was her marriage to Neal. A true story of a love turned into something poisoned, a once healthy plant that grew into twisted vines, strangling everything in its path.

His hands tight around her neck, the air in her lungs not enough, she wasn't enough. The other women being led somewhere by the red haired woman with green nails, Ari's and Tam's bracelets heavy on her wrist even as she starts to feel herself go slack. The pressure is too much, black spots dotting the air, and somewhere close, another man hooting like some primate - Brown eyes meet hers, and for a moment he falters, fingers loosening.

Emma kicks, kicks with all her strength, and when he crashes backwards she screams, screams like her chest is ripping apart just to resonate this noise, this wail of everything he lied about. It is a trick of light, a symptom of lack of oxygen, a freak occurrence spurred by the old home and poor insulation, bad wiring and mice chewed exposed cables.

Neal looks at her and sighs as Emma can hear the red haired woman and her underling shriek.

“Thank you,” Neal whispers, reaching for her, but Emma's banshee wail is not over and her mouth is a perfect ‘O’ as the rafters shake, tears stinging her eyes. A Swan song, she thinks, the end of her sanity and her life, the feeling of this cry flowing through her like breathing with every inch of her body. Her skin burns too, but not like theirs.

He makes it to her on stumbling steps, a vision from a nightmare, her scream unending even as she stares at him in horror. His touch is like a branding iron, his embrace like raw flesh dipped in salt. Neal touches her face as he burns away, ashes to ashes, his hand becoming embers and dust. This is hell fire, and Emma can't stop her scream long enough to beg for this to end. His lips are against her ear and his last words echo as he falls away, falls to her feet, the building crumbling around them. Her scream ends when the ceiling piece hits her skull, and the world too, finally falls into blissful, silent, cool darkness.

Far off there are sirens, and she can feel the burning when her body is lifted, but for now, Emma prefers the darkness even as Neal's last words occasionally echo through the stillness.

“I'm so sorry, Ems."

Emma came back to herself soaking wet, the rain that threatened from the horizon now in full force. It pelted her, cold, salt rain, pulled from the waves and forced from the sky. She was crying, sobbing in silence, but no one is here to see the rain wash away her tears.

#Courtorderedcake #2019 #September 12th 2019 #Roses #captain swan fic #CSSNS #captain swan fanfiction #Captain Swan Au #cs ff #cs ff au #Tam lin #Fairy Tale retelling #Eastwesthomeisbest

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These 9 places on Mars could be the target for SpaceX's first Starship missions

https://sciencespies.com/space/these-9-places-on-mars-could-be-the-target-for-spacexs-first-starship-missions/

These 9 places on Mars could be the target for SpaceX's first Starship missions

SpaceX is scouting for prime real estate to populate Mars, according to a database of NASA spacecraft photography.

The database entries suggest the rocket company, founded by the tech mogul Elon Musk, is looking for relatively flat, warm, and hazard-free places to set down its coming launch vehicle, called Starship.

A scientist at the University of Arizona later confirmed the existence of SpaceX’s landing site-scouting project.

SpaceX is developing Starship – a towering two-stage rocket ship – to land 150 tons and up to 100 people at a time on Mars, with the first missions starting in the mid-2020s.

Each candidate landing site is a place where frozen water may be buried under just a bit of red dirt and thus accessible to robots and people. That ice could, in theory, be mined, melted, and turned into precious supplies such as water, air, and rocket fuel.

The space-history writer Robert Zimmerman first posted about the images on his site, Beyond the Black, after perusing a fresh batch of data from NASA’s Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter. Zimmerman noticed several photos with titles that included the words “Candidate Landing Site for SpaceX Starship”.

“To put it mildly, it is most intriguing to discover that SpaceX is beginning to research a place where it can land Starship on Mars,” Zimmerman wrote, adding that each site was a probable location to find buried ice.

SpaceX did not immediately respond to a request for comment from Business Insider. However, the images are authentic requests from the company made through a scientist at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory.

SpaceX is considering at least 9 landing sites for Starships

The new pictures came from HiRISE, a telescope operated by the University of Arizona that’s mounted on the MRO spacecraft. The telescope’s camera can photograph surface features at a resolution as fine as 1 foot per pixel – three times the resolution that Google Maps provides of Earth and on par with spy satellites.

HiRISE, however, can only take so many sizable images per orbit and beam them tens of millions of miles back to Earth. So scientists must file image requests for locations of interest to them months in advance.

(NASA/USGS/ESA/DLR/FU Berlin (G. Neukum) via Google Earth Pro; Business Insider)

Above: An elevation map of Mars showing the nine candidate landing sites SpaceX is considering for its first Martian voyages of Starship.

Though Zimmerman highlighted four Starship landing sites in the HiRISE catalogue, Business Insider found image requests for nine SpaceX-related locations. We plotted them (above) by inputting the data into Google Earth.

All of the Starship image requests were filed by Nathan R. Williams, a planetary geologist at NASA JPL.

Williams has previously requested dozens of images in support of NASA’s coming Mars 2020 rover mission, which will attempt a landing in Jezero crater. He has also asked for dozens of photos to support SpaceX’s now-defunct Red Dragon mission to Mars.

“He was bound by a nondisclosure agreement with SpaceX and could not comment,” Zimmerman said after contacting Williams about the Starship image requests. (Neither Williams nor NASA JPL immediately responded to Business Insider’s request for comment.)

The HiRISE site shows that, on April 29, Williams requested 18 different images of Mars related to Starship. Specifically, he asked for two images each per site – each from a slightly different angle – to build stereo anaglyphs pairs. Such pairs can reveal finer 3D details about a location, including its terrain and landing hazards.

Of the nine locations Williams asked HiRISE to observe, six have published images, two are not yet published, and one has yet to be imaged.

Alfred McEwen, a planetary geologist and director of the Planetary Image Research Laboratory, confirmed the project after the publication of this story.

“Under direction from JPL, the HiRISE team has been imaging candidate landing sites for SpaceX,” McEwen told Business Insider in an email. “This effort began in 2017, initially for the Red Dragon lander, and is continuing for their Starship vehicle.”

The landing sites are all relatively flat, warm, boulder-free and presumably icy

Musk has said in recent years that he wants SpaceX to help build a self-sustaining city on Mars by the mid-2050s – partly as a way of “backing up” humanity like a hard drive.

To do that without going bankrupt, though, he needs a lot of Starships and an ability to refuel them on the Red Planet.

The company hopes to make Starship fully reusable – the first such rocket of its kind – to lower launch costs by a factor of 100 or even more than 1,000. Refuelling on Mars is key to making Musk’s scheme work, which is why SpaceX chose methane as its fuel of choice.

By using solar (or perhaps nuclear) energy, Musk says, a process called the Sabatier reaction could turn water and carbon dioxide in the thin Martian atmosphere into methane. That fuel, along with oxygen extracted from the water, could be used to refuel Starships for return flights to Earth as well as provide breathable air and drinking water.

Eight of the nine possible landing sites are located on the border of two major regions called Arcadia Planitia (to the north) and Amazonis Planitia (to the south):

(NASA/USGS/ESA/DLR/FU Berlin (G. Neukum) via Google Earth Pro; Business Insider)

McEwen said the candidate landing sites “are concentrated at low elevations in the northern middle latitudes, in places where there is evidence for shallow ground ice.”

That strip of Mars is thought to hide massive, rapidly buried glaciers that remain mostly preserved after millions of years.

Some evidence for this is in the shape of nearby craters, which appear to sink after a meteorite impact because they expose ice to Martian air, which is about 1 percent as thick as Earth’s.

Functionally that is a vacuum, causing the now-exposed ice to sublimate away into the air in the same way a block of dry ice does when it warms up.

(NASA/JPL/University of Arizona; Business Insider)

Above: One line of evidence for ice on Mars are impact sites. Ice exposed to the thin martian air sublimates into a gas and collapses soil around the original crater.

SpaceX’s presumed candidate sites are also flat and relatively free of boulders, which are objects that you definitely do not want your spacecraft to land on or crash into.

The sites are also distant from Mars’ super-frigid polar caps, are a bit warmer, see quite a bit of sun (important for gathering solar energy), and are relatively low-laying. Because air sinks and gets denser at lower elevations, this might help Sabatier machines more efficiently suck in carbon dioxide and manufacture methane fuel for Starships.

SpaceX is just beginning to test Starship, though

At this stage, SpaceX has not completed a Starship capable of reaching orbit, let alone landing on Mars. The company has also not explained how it plans to mine ice, build permanent habitats that recycle resources, or even keep people alive during the journey to and from Mars.

But SpaceX has a solid start: It has built and thoroughly tested new methane-burning Raptor engines. SpaceX also strapped one such engine to an early prototype, called Starhopper, and soared it more than 490 feet, or 150 meters, into the air above South Texas on July 25.

Workers are now building two bigger, orbit-capable prototypes: Starship Mark 1 in Boca Chica, Texas, and Starship Mark 2 in Cocoa, Florida. Musk tweeted on Friday that the company would attempt to launch them about 12.4 miles into the air in October and then around Earth “shortly thereafter.”

If all goes according to the CEO’s “aspirational” timeline, the rocket company could be launching passengers around the moon and missions to Mars in the mid-2020s.

Musk also plans to update the world on SpaceX’s latest design for Starship and plans for the launch system on September 28. It’s possible he may also say more about where and why, exactly, the company plans to land its first interplanetary Starship missions.

This article was originally published by Business Insider.

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#Space

#09-2019 Science News #Physics/Space/Nature/Humans/History #Science #Science News #Space

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