#because i am a frosting guy. First and foremost

[greelin]

i see your “drawing tiny little carrots on carrot cake” and raise you the cupcakes we did for easter that we just. Made into 🥕s. basically. go big or go home

#yes that’s a lot of frosting. Was never my decision on that tho🤷‍♂️ #also even if i was legally allowed to control the amt at that point in time i wouldn’t have said anything. #because i am a frosting guy. First and foremost

[crystalelemental]

I pulled SC Steven 1/5, and was tempted to go for 3/5 anyway.  His kit is entirely supportive, he doesn't strictly need it, but I thought man, there's no way this guy's all that useful for Gauntlet.  His tools are great, but too few use, right?  Surely he suffers.

He does not.

General Overview Now before anyone asks, I'd like to note: yes, I am using 5*s here.  While my preference in these is to showcase how well a unit performs by pairing them with commons, I've decided against holding to that.  Sometimes, the 5* options is just...more consistent, and I'm rather tired of some of the clears that are downright headache-inducing to clear on pure F2P.  I feel like, with scout tickets especially, older 5*s can be considered as substitution for the sake of time and sanity.  I'll still be doing CS clears with all F2P though.  I'm just so tired of Gauntlet runs that are frustrating and rely on like the same three tools.

SC Steven is really good.  Even with no MPRs, he gets shit done.  Some stages are more challenging than others, based on what they are or are not immune to.  But by and large, he is able to supplement damage extremely well.

But.  As predicted, his limitation is opportunity cost.  Some of these stages are a right pain in the ass.  BP Surge is damn near mandatory for Uxie, Cobalion, and especially Tornadus.  Very often you need a flinch bot covering support on stages with that level of threat.  Melony and Elio are godsends.  He cannot operate without someone covering weather-setting for him against Moltres.  MAYBE if the striker has flinch.  But you'll never guess who sucked too bad to make it work.  You'll NEVER guess.

All this to say, Steven at 1/5, uninvested, performs his duties perfectly.  Everything beyond that is just icing on a particularly nice cake, and honestly I've never loved the frosting, I'm more of a central cake kind of person.  Just a thin layer to add sweetness, but some people just pile that shit on and it's overpowering and not even that good, I can't even taste the cake at this point.

Vs. Tapu Bulu As a rule, I looked at options that were physically inclined first and foremost, even if that meant stepping into 5* territory.  And who is more put-upon as a physical Flying-type Striker than our boy Nate?  Who, as you can see, hit his final sync for 50k.  SC Steven pumps damage like crazy, man.  Stacks of moves up next also turn Fly into an absurd nuke, which is...just a delight.

Vs. Tornadus BP Surge is mandatory.  Like, listen to me, having inconsistent paralysis rates on you damage dealer doesn't work.  I did consider Sophocles, but also Tornadus has Self Cleanse, which has ruined a win more than once by just blocking that last sync outright, so I went with Elesa.  BP Sophocles tried.  Steven stacked his damage so high that Wild Charge killed him.  Elesa has better recovery options so she's able to endure hitting so hard it cuts half her HP through Standfast 9.

Vs. Terrakion This one I'm not proud of, but Terrakion's tough.  SC Lillie has to be here, you need some kind of disruption.  I realized later that Terrakion isn't immune to Sleep, and Melony could've done an okay job too, but I am not going back.  Bianca was chosen as the damage dealer, because Steven, as specified, cannot handle gimmicks.  Which means your damage dealer or support needs to be able to set the needed field effect.  On thing I think is worth noting is that Steven also does not come close to stopping Terrakion's offense.  Even after three Buddy Leer, it's got +4 attack by the end.  It just goes too hard.

Vs. Cobalion Oh look.  Surge again.  This fight is a good example of SC Steven being largely about timing.  Delaying first sync here actually works.  Applying all three Leer, then hitting SEUN on Blaine as he sets Sun, will destroy Bar 1 before sync.  Anything less will fail.  Pull similar shenanigans in Bar 2 to clear that.  Provided Surge doesn't go down too hard, Bar 3 can be taken out without SEUN or Sun at this point, provided you've stacked physical moves up next to +6 on Blaine.  Flame Wheel will hit for like 7k, so spam Fire Spin in advance to preserve them.

Vs. Azelf Is it cheating to use a flinch bot?  Maybe.  But Lusamine doesn't survive this thing otherwise.  SC Steven's applications of Moves Up Next can be preserved on Lusamine by using Bug Buzz.  SEUN will allow sync to deal great numbers.  I do want to impress something though.  The number shown is Bug Buzz with SEUN.  That as like the full HP bar.  Lusamine just ended that guy.

Vs. Uxie Time to learn a technical skill!  Fun fact: No Evasion and Restrain count as status changes for the purposes of Bar 2 Uxie!  Additionally, the condition for Buddy moves is to select them, not to activate them.  Meaning, get Uxie's first HP bar low, and set to deliver the final blow with your damage dealer, then add Steven's last Buddy move use.  When the HP bar drops, and Uxie shifts into Bar 2, Leer will still activate, applying Restrain, and allowing full damage for the duration of that bar.  Restrain cannot be removed.  This leaves him a little vulnerable, as Bar 3 now only has status, but the damage reduction is also less severe, so careful play can still win.  That said, this was spooky.

Vs. Latios I mean, this is kinda cheating, but by now you get the idea.  I wanted to see how well he did with Ghetsis, given that his Buddy move kicks off both of Ghetsis' relevant multipliers.  It's good, but not like...stupid, you know?

Vs. Latias Okay, I'm a little proud of this one.  Very similar to Uxie, you conserve one Buddy move use until the transition to Bar 2, where No Evasion allows all your attacks to hit, until it can never evade again.  So long as you can nuke its HP before the sudden +6 evasion, you're in business.  Even Mud Slap isn't a concern now.  The real win is Lodge Lillie, whose Synchro Healing on sync keeps the entire team rolling.  Stacks of Physical Moves Up Next is mostly useless on her, until Petal Blizzard happens.  Then it's decent spread damage to take out sides.

Vs. Regirock Rebuff in phase 1 does nothing for your Steel strikers that are designed for this fight.  But it does do something for Tank Dawn!  The physical defense boosting and heavy Grass-type damage is pretty great, allowing for fast clearing of that first phase.  Once in Bar 2, SEUN and Moves Up will allow Wikstrom to break down the rock pretty quickly.  That said, gauges are real bad.  This is one of those fights that's a lot cleaner at 3/5 with the extra speed boosts.

Vs. Entei MU is Arbok for gauge control on Rosa.  I really like Lodge Rosa.  I like Rosa in general, really, and I like Dewott.  But it's got a lot of issues.  Issues that SC Steven solves beautifully.  Added damage on both move and sync, debuffs defense to -6 in three moves, has a rebuff to apply.  SC Steven and Lodge Rosa are really good together.  I probably should've swapped in Hitmonchan instead of Arbok, so Rosa could get attacking earlier, but I forgot about Steven's ability to buff speed when he hits a No Evasion target.  That's right, there was a better comp.  Don't even need flinch.  Though 3/5 Steven could supply it.

Vs. Moltres Elio's sleep works so long as weather is changed.  Candice is stupid powerful on sync.  The goal of this was really to find something that used Steven's physical defense debuffs, and could supply their own weather.  Fun fact.  Initially, I wanted to use Lodge Blue and Grant.  Go for the flinch thing.  See if Grant could deal real people damage on sync with SEUN.  Turns out, Bar 2 fucks them all up, and even with two 60% flinch chances, Moltres is so punishing that it isn't consistent at all.  Elio it is then.  Candice, good work as always girl.  Just wish that when you hit the random 10% freeze, it didn't result in Moltres throwing out goddamned Flare Blitz and nearly killing Elio.

#sync pair testing #SC Steven #gauntlet sweep

[st-louis]

plz talk flyers 2 me!!! what if anything are u looking forward to from them this season? what are u gonna be keeping an eye on once games get going?

okay literally my husband said to me today "you never talk about the flyers anymore" and i was like that's because their offseason was normal to very good while the habs are like troy entering room on fire with pizzas dot gif

i had typed up SO much stuff then lost it trying to add that gif rip

anyway:

first and foremost the redemption of carter hart i know it is stupid but i am SO invested in this dumb manchild with his smelly gloves and awkward smile and embarrassing car and his questionable mindfulness techniques... i truly want him to succeed both for himself and because as a lifelong philadelphia fan goaltending is truly the charlie brown and lucy football meme of my life we are SO close with him SO CLOSE and it's just dangling out of reach... martin jones who

ryan ellis and provy together and provy not having to try to do everything himself to the detriment of the whole rest of his game!

kevin hayes + friends, this was a silly option pre jimmy hayes' death but i'm truly hoping that having atkinson yandle etc around him will make it easier for him to cope

cam atkinson in general! excited to see what he can bring to the power play! would love to have a power play with finishing potential!

beezer a step forward?? could he be a 20-30 goal guy again??

the 3C position!!!! could we HAVE a 3C this year? whether it is morgan frost or brass or whoever. COULD WE HAVE CENTER DEPTH???????

the duel to the death between keith yandle's ironman streak and av benching people

the duel to the death between keith yandle's ironman streak and cam york's ambition

comedy option seeing whether rasmus ristolainen was playing in buffalo or is just bad (spoiler alert he is just bad)

basically what i'm gonna be keeping an eye on are whether we can actually make clean zone transitions, whether the flyers forwards can actually keep up with av's forechecking system with proper conditioning and the chance to practice properly in the offseason, whether the defense just collapses again...... with goaltending i want to see whether jones was just bad because it was san jose or whether he's just bad now (i suspect the latter) but also the split between hart/jones and how many games they play. i wanna see if carter manages to fix some of his technical issues he was having specifically where teams knew where to pick their shots because he could NOT get them glove side high etc. i WILL be keeping an eye on risto’s stats because lmao

i am actually feeling pretty hopeful about the season in general, maybe foolishly but i really like most of the additions in the offseason and i think that with better conditions the team won't be as like. depressed.

i AM nervous about g's contract but i think he will stay if the team doesn't shit the bed and i think he might even take a discount if the team is good

#questions #thank u this was fun!!!

[awackyphdinadorkable]

Cherik Moodboard: Enchanted AU

Note: This is supposed to be a little more detailed exploration of the plot bunnies I have in mind for this (though I am really happy to read that I am not the only one feeling a mighty need for such an AU). I hope to put that into fanfic one of these days, but until I find the time and muses needed… I guess this can be taken as a small preview. :)

In a magical kingdom far, far away lives a young man in a cottage in the woods. Charles is a man heading towards his personal happy ending, as does anyone. With his sister Raven, he has any intention to not only find his personal luck but also for other people. Raven and he are special – they possess a kind of magic. Charles can read people’s minds whereas his sister can change her outer appearance at will.

Charles since harbored the wish to become a teacher and wants to build a school for people like them, those with magical gifts. Westchester Castle would be perfect. And at last, the owner of the property is willing to negotiate a treaty with Charles so that he can build his school there.

However, his supposed benefactor strikes Charles as rather strange. Now meeting him for the first time in person – they conversed by letter before – he can’t read his mind. Charles believes it is due to the strange helmet Sebastian Shaw is wearing, but before he has any chance to investigate, Charles finds himself pushed into a well in Westchester’s garden, and just like that, he is gone…

Erik Lehnsherr is going about his life as a lawyer while keeping a low profile, hoping not to draw too much attention to himself or his teenage son who is busy giving him trouble instead of listening to his father. Until just recently, Erik didn’t even know Peter was his son because his mother and he fell out of touch when he moved to Poland.

Trying to make ends meet as a normal person is hard enough, but doing so as a mutant who has to keep his faster-than-lightning son from exposing them at a time when mutants are more and more under scrutiny is an entirely separate nightmare.

When Erik and Peter pass by Time Square after dinner, both are in for a surprise: A man in a medieval-looking costume runs around in the middle of the busy street, shouting at people to stop thinking. It takes Erik a moment, but then it dawns on him: that man is likely one of them, a mutant. Thus, he instructs Peter to use his lightning speed to get them out of the situation, whiplash notwithstanding.

Peter takes them back to Erik’s loft, where a still very clearly disoriented man with dark hair and beautiful blue eyes struggles with “so many voices.” Any effort of Erik’s to get the man’s personal details fail – knowing very well that the new identification laws for mutants he is desperate to dodge in court won’t do that man any favors if he just hands him over to authorities. But it’s no use.

“I like him,” Peter declares.

“Why?”

“He’s weird.”

“Ah.”

In an effort to help the young man struggling with his mutation, Erik tries to calm him by instructing the, for what it seems, telepath to only focus on his thoughts. Luckily, that solves some of the problems, though sadly, it also creates more since that telepath is strong enough to dig into the darkest corners of Erik’s mind, recovering all those painful memories he put away for good.

“I am so sorry, Erik.”

“It doesn’t matter. I want to know who you are, now that you took a look around my head. So?”

“I am Charles. And I believe something is very much at disarray.”

“You don’t say.”

“I mean to say that… I seemingly ended up in the wrong world.”

As it turns out, Charles was sucked into another dimension. Erik nearly chokes on the name of the man Charles was busy making deals with. Sebastian Shaw. The man who made him into a monster. The man who killed his mother. The man he is still desperate to find and bring to justice.

However, as much as he wants revenge, Erik knows that figuring out the situation with Charles currently takes precedence.

“So we get to keep him?” Peter asks.

“You make it sound like he is a stray cat?”

“Well, he’s a stray guy, then. Though he definitely dresses fancier than the homeless guys down Time Square.”

“I would very much appreciate it if you granted me lodgings until I… well, acquainted,” Charles offers shyly. “It appears my home is in another dimension at this moment.”

Erik agrees to have Charles in his loft until they have this sorted out, though the thought of having a telepath in his home does nothing to calm his mind. After all, Charles accidentally dug in very deep already, and Erik has no intention of revisiting the memories he buried inside him.

The following days are filled with confusion foremost. Charles has some issue adjusting since cars, showers, or toasters are, to his mind, witchcraft. Though Charles seems curiously drawn to that which he doesn’t know, which only ever seems to fuel Peter to show Charles the “ways to modernity” by declaring himself Charles’s personal “reality tour guide.”

While Charles can be convinced to wear something more up-to-date to blend in better in public, his way of expression and lack of knowledge continue to get Erik into one awkward situation after the other.

When Charles starts an impromptu musical number in the park, Erik is just about to lose it, though.

Things hit another level of oddity when Peter’s mother checks in on them without letting Erik know of her surprise visit in advance, only to start making comments about how he seemingly "switched teams" after she runs into a half-naked Charles emerging from the bathroom after yet another hot shower, which he finds an “absolutely fantastic invention” they should have long since adopted in his world.

“It is so convenient!”

Despite their continuing clashes, especially once both discuss the methods of their taking on Shaw, the two have a vested interest in finding the man. After all, Charles himself has any intention to get back home to his sister, for whose safety he fears.

Unknown to them, Raven has since taken it upon herself to search for her brother after he didn’t return from his business dealings with Sebastian Shaw as he promised. And Charles always keeps his promises.

She travels to Westchester. While looking for her brother, she nearly walks in on Shaw talking to some of his minions. Raven can gather that Shaw needed to get rid of Charles because of his powerful mind that may have the power to destroy his plans of world dominion – and used Westchester as a way of luring him into a trap. Though, to Shaw’s dismay, something went wrong and Charles was not killed – as it was planned – but sent to another dimension.

“That’s the trouble with the fairytale world. Here, we can’t win – because the bad never wins here, but that doesn’t mean we can’t gather our weapons and then head back to our terrain where we most certainly can.”

One of his fellows, a blonde woman going by the name Emma Frost, is tasked to travel to that dimension and “take care of business” and ensure that Charles doesn’t get into their way a second time once they launch their plan in the other dimension.

Shaw releases a blast of energy through which Emma can travel to that dimension. Raven takes a chance and sneaks in after the blonde woman without anyone’s realization, only to find herself in the middle of Central Park, naked, blue, in her natural shape – and thus in the eye of everyone.

Unable to control her abilities, Raven has no other choice but to seek cover until she gets a hold of her magic. After all, she has to find Charles before this Emma Frost can.

Though help may soon be on the way when she runs into Hank, a young man who loves video games and tells her that she looks exactly like one of the characters of his club’s most beloved game. The group hails her like some kind of blue goddess, which Raven finds flattering, surely, but she really needs to find her brother first.

Hank volunteers to help her, arguing that she won’t have to hide at the convention he intends to visit, because everyone walks around in costumes there. He reveals to her that this is the one occasion where he also travels around in his natural shape – which is, like hers, blue. Just with a lot more fur. Raven agrees, hoping that going from there, she may have it easier to find Charles. And the prospect of being able to be herself in public, she will have to admit, is all the more intriguing.

In some other part of the city around the same time, Erik has his dear trouble taking care of a kleptomaniac teenage mutant who won’t listen to a word he says and an adult mutant who walks the earth with the curiosity of a child, leaving Erik wondering whether he truly is the only adult in the room.

But then again, Charles is from fairytale land where everyone is happy and where no bad can come to you. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to him that Charles won’t see the bad in the world when Erik witnessed it firsthand, more than once.  

Yet, there is a part of Erik that is completely enchanted by that man’s perception of the world, the happiness and hope he radiates and inspires.

Charles, for his part, finds himself both irritated and fascinated not just by this strange world but the man so kind to take him in. There is a great deal of darkness in Erik that Charles never witnessed back in his world – because it doesn’t exist where he comes from. And more than anything, he wants Erik to see the part Charles saw for himself when he accidentally looked into Erik’s mind, but Erik keeps ignoring this light – all the good in him, his love and his compassion, among many other things. Yet, Charles remains determined to show him just that magic.

In an effort to help mend the fractured relationship between Peter and Erik, Charles tries to communicate their feelings to one another, as this father-son pair fails to express what they truly think and feel. While Erik feels offended at first, he realizes that Charles is doing so with best intentions in mind – and actually succeeds to build a bridge between the two after Erik already thought he’d lose yet another child, like back in Poland.

Things take a sudden turn when Peter takes Charles to a convention in the city, so that Charles can “let the weird run wild and free” – only to run into none other than Hank and Raven.

While everyone is happily reunited, Erik is only left wondering just how many more “stray people” according to Peter he’ll have to take in. Though thankfully, Hank proves to be of help, having developed a device that would increase a telepath’s abilities so drastically that he or she could locate other mutants. Charles is thrilled by the idea, hoping that this will finally give him a chance to track down Shaw, not only for Erik’s sake but now also to make sure that Raven makes her way back home safely.

Erik, while driven to finally find Shaw after all those years, finds his mind constantly overwritten by his growing worry and care for Charles, who, to his mind, puts himself in far too much danger in an effort to find Shaw.

While Charles can’t locate Shaw thanks to the helmet, they end up with a lead on the woman Raven followed, Emma Frost. Conveniently, she hosts a ball that is supposed to be a great finale for the convention – though really just for high society – which may prove like a good opportunity to get some answers.

Thanks to Charles’s convincing, the group has no trouble getting in.

And yet, trouble lurks just behind the next corner, since they are not the only ones with special abilities – and the will to see their goals achieved.

Erik fears that he will remain right in the end – that in his world, there are no happy ending stories…

#cherik #cherik au #charles x erik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #x men au #enchanted au #i have a lot of cherik feels mkay #and I am a thirsty hoe for disney adaptations #I can't help it #I mean #I could #but I don't want to

[jadedjo]

2019 End of Year Fic Review

I am happy to say that I achieved 3 of my goals from last year. Compete Return to Endor and Crossing A Line and find a beta/alpha/cheerleader: The Fic Whining Circle helped me achieve all of this! I LOVE you guys!

But despite having written more last year than this year I take this year as a more creative journey. With the support and encouragement of people I look up to, I was able to broaden my horizons and stretch my creativity. But this also had its drawbacks. Namely, in the form of the White Rabbit (plot bunnies multiply when other creatives pass theirs on to you unintentionally)

2 White Rabbits that I chased this year were Apocalypse Yavin and the WIP Admiral Luke Au. They were not my ideas. They started as discussions from others that I ran with (with permission). So new goals for 2020 are to leave plot bunnies alone. I have more than enough projects that I do want to finish.

If any come across my path, I shall appreciate them but shall not fall down the rabbit hole. There was a post that came across my dash that said something along the lines of, you need to start x projects to find the 1 that will get done. So, if I need to drabble something to get it out of my head so be it but not let it balloon into the 50k or more that the Admiral Luke Au is turning into.

If anyone sees me chasing the White Rabbit be sure to pull me out of the Matrix STAT.

Goals for 2020:

I’m not sure what I want to accomplish next year. I have WIPs that I need to decide if I’m going to continue or let go of. Many of them I like and would like to finish someday, but they also pressure me with their very presence.

Right now, the Admiral Luke AU is first and foremost in my mind. The basics came out of a what-if discussion about what-if Luke never left military service. While he was a General in Shadows of Mindor we all agreed that a man in Admiral Whites was HAWT so he was switched from General to Admiral Skywalker. Then Mara was added to the mix. Luke would dislike her fringe neutrality and she would think him just another stuck up military leader who was given a position based on his name only. The premise was so she and Luke could have angry sex in his office.

That idea quickly morphed into an elaborate back story with both nu!canon and Legends mixed together to explain the current state of affairs and a re-write of The Thrawn Trilogy to include Hera Syndula, Ezra Bridger, Ahsoka Tano, Thrawn from both TTT and nu!canon, and why Luke is still in the military. But I think I overwhelmed myself with the scope and now have to take this is small chunks so as not to hide in terror of the massive fic it wants to be.

As for the WIPs ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ We’ll see.

Some interesting stats for this year:

1.    favorite fic you wrote this year

Apocalypse Yavin

2.    least favorite fic you wrote this year

Drabble: Corellian Checkers (nothing wrong with it, but of my mini fics I like it the least)

3.    favorite line/scene you wrote this year

From Twilight: Time stopped and in the instant between day and night their lips met.

4.    total number of words you wrote this year

For Posted Fics its 35,937

For WIPs its 28,574

Total: 64,511 (last year’s total was 79,028, but I admit I had a 20k sprint last year.)

5.    most popular fic this year

I Get Off (ya’ll love that PWP)

6.    least popular fic this year

Return To Endor

This was a self-indulgent fic for long-forgotten made for TV Star Wars films. I’m not surprised this is the least popular fic

7.    longest completed fic you wrote this year

Apocalypse Yavin (12792)

8.    shortest completed fic you wrote this year

Spin The Bottle (376)

9. favorite character to write about this year

I was going to say Luke Skywalker or Mara Jade but… Cindel was a surprise and interesting to write about so I shall name Cindel Towani as my favorite this year.

10. favorite writing song/artist/album of this year

According to Spotify, it was Blade Runner 2049. Its mellow and easy to have as background music that will drown out other noises without making me want to actively listen to it.

11. a fic you didn’t expect to write

I Get Off

12. fic(s) you completed this year

In reverse posting order:

Apocalypse Yavin Reeling from the revelations that Vader is his father, needing to get used to a malfunctioning new right hand, and having to save his friend from carbonite, Luke is sent on a quest to find a kyber crystal for a new lightsaber. Unfortunately for him, Yavin IV is where he can find one. The moon is now a hellscape from the death throes of the Death Star and he has the eerie feeling that something in the Force is there, in pain, crying out for release.

Return Luke returns to Tatooine. But what kind of welcome will he find there? Owen Lives AU Flash Fic Crossing A Line (Getting To Know You Series) With a new Force bond firmly in place, Luke and Mara must now navigate this unexpected turn in their relationship. How do you go from friends to lovers because the Force wills it? Post-Nirauan story.

Not Just Another Day (Flash Fic) Luke gives Mara a gift on his birthday. 

Comfort (drabble) Han finds Jaina at the end of the Vong War. Prompts:  “War’s End” kiss & “You’re strong, baby. You have to be.” Reveal (drabble) Luke returns home to find Mara in an unusual situation. Prompts: “I do” kiss & “Frost the damn cupcakes.”

Spin The Bottle (drabble) Prompt: Spin the bottle & "Come over here and make me"

Corellian Checkers (drabble) Han hears Leia say something to Wedge Antilles he'd never thought she'd ever say to anyone.Prompts: “We’re playing checkers. If you don’t like it, leave.” & A Hoarse Whisper “Kiss Me”

Twilight (drabble) When Luke and Mara are forced to trek through the wilderness once again they find more than just pretty scenery.Prompts: Staring At The Other’s Lips, Trying Not To Kiss Them, Before Giving In & “You can scream if you want.”

Return To Endor Cindel Towani is alone in the galaxy. She returns to the one place where she felt at home. The forest moon of Endor. She just prays that the one person she most wants to see is still there.

I Get Off “He could have called you ‘Master.’ Like I do sometimes.” Mara's voice was a smoky purr in his ear. Her arms slipped around Luke’s waist from behind. Luke smiled. “I don’t think it would be the same as when you do it.” “It better not be … Skywalker.” Luke jumped as one of her hands gave his stomach a slap. — Destiny’s Way, Chapter 3. by Walter Jon WilliamsJust how does Mara call Luke 'Master'? In the sexiest way possible.

4 Times Mara Noticed Luke's Feet and 1 Time Luke Noticed Mara's Mara never thought of herself as finding feet attractive. Until she spotted the toes of one Luke Skywalker. ~~~ Luke never paid much attention to Mara's feet. But they'd never been encased in shiny black leather before.

Written for the fetish/Trope roulette 

13. fics you’ll continue next year

I assume this means fics posted but not completed this year. Since its technically 0 I’ll say: The next installment of the Getting To Know You Series

14. current number of wips

7 which is too many. I’ll be paring down this year and trying to keep the white rabbit in check.

15. number of comments you haven’t read

ZERO. I LIVE for comments.

16. most memorable comment/review

Anything from the Fic Whining Circle!

17. events you participated in this year

Fetish/Trope Roulette which resulted in 4 Times Mara Noticed Luke's Feet and 1 Time Luke Noticed Mara's and its spin-off I Get Off

18. fics you wanted to write but didn’t

This years Halloween fic was supposed to be a Cyberpunk Halloween fic featuring Shirlee Faughn, Mara Jade, and my OC Starry Ice crew. I never finalized the plot so it got pushed to 2020 in favor of Apocalypse Yavin.

#year in review #jade writes #2019 fan fiction

[keeloves]

Iris Ann West Allen/Candice Kristina Patton is the leading lady of the Flash

I just thought I would remind people of that since there seems to be some debate about that. Candice Patton plays Iris West Allen she is the love interest to the main protagonist and Iris has always come first and foremost to Mr. Bartholomew Henry Allen. There is no ifs ands or buts. Caitlin Snow/Danielle Panabaker is not the leading female on the Flash no matter what any magazine says or no matter what Danielle says or who she tries to bait. The term leading female wasn’t a problem until that title was given to a black woman. If Iris and Caitlin are both leading females then by that logic, Cisco, Joe and Ralph are male leads along with Barry but oh wait no one ever calls those guys the leading men of the Flash because Barry is a white man. However Caitlin is called the leading female purely for the fact she is the nearest white woman around. People are uncomfortable for the sheer fact the title  “Leading Lady”is a beautiful black woman. People will white wash Cailtin’s crimes as Killer Frost and still say she is an important aspect to the team despite the fact she hesitates to save people and she leaves when the going gets tough but Iris who goes above and beyond to help people her loyalty is questioned and she is accused of barely doing anything and sitting behind a desk literally episodes after of going out in the field. What it really comes down to is racist being petty and they can’t stand their white fav is problematic and that a black woman is loyal and is a love interest. They hate the fact that a black woman is in a position that is normally held by a white woman, they hate the fact that a black woman is loved and adored by the main protagonist will put a black woman above everyone else. Don’t even say race plays doesn’t play a part in this debate when it clearly does. The only reason people want Caitlin/Danielle to be the female lead is because she is the nearest white woman there. People grasp at straws to say Iris is terribly written, saying she is rude to other people and saying she is shady towards Caitlin. That would be fine if you provided solid evidence but the moment us Iris fans ask for examples of Iris being rude or unnecessarily shady all of a sudden it is crickets or the SB/CS/KF fans block us. However when we say Caitlin is terribly written, or when she is a horrible person we can get back with those reciepts no problem and the evidence is staring you in the face. I can talk until I am blue in the face defending Candice Patton/Iris West Allen and you guys will talk until you are blue in the face defending Caitlin Snow despite the fact there is nothing left to defend. Anyways bottom line is Iris West Allen/Candice Patton a black woman is the lead and she ain’t going no where.

#anti caitlin snow #iris ann best west allen #anti danielle panabaker #candice patton

[unicornsandphoenix]

Mid year writing round-up!

I was tagged by my favorite people in the whole wide world, @drarrymylove (the love of my life and actually the reason I started writing), @snortinglaughter (one of my actuaL IDOLS omg you guys), @foularcadebanana (literally the most supportive person ever who worked with me on my last fic to save my life), @violetclarity (the most talented and sweetest person ever who I strive to be like) and @gnarf (who I can’t believe I didn’t tag at first up here, but who actually always has the best ideas for stories and stories that just FLOW SO FUCKING NICELY)

So fun fact, I only started writing January of the year of our lord 2018, and I could make like ten billion posts on why this fandom and these people all helped me to continue, but for now, here are the stats (as of on ao3? I’m scared to go back through all my drabbles and head canons there are mANY):

Fandoms/Parings: mmmmmm literally just Drarry and one Jeddy fic (but so many more HP pairings in my drabbles)

Total word count: 21,879 words so far, which, and because it’s not including my drabbles, I am actually super proud of this!! Fuck I didn’t even know...

Number of stories: I have 6 works posted and then another work coming out for wireless (but it’s finished!!!!!!!!!!!) ^.^

Story with most kudos: 153 kudos from Roses of Hope (Summary: Draco’s mother had left him as swift as the winter breeze and as painful as the frost when Draco had just grown tall enough to steal her cookies off of the kitchen table.Now Draco, known as Cinders, tries his best to please his stepmother and stepbrothers.Can a handsome stranger at a ball and a sentient rose garden turn it all around for him?)

Story with most comments: 10 comment threads from each Roses of Hope and Beat that, Cinderella (Summary: Draco stared at the small but bright spirit bobbing in front of him. He opened his mouth, promptly closed it, and squinted.“So you’re…”“A fairy godmother. Yes.”“And you…”The fairy, Jeni, Draco remembered, rolled her eyes. “Make the wishes of truly innocent repenters come true.”“And I am one of these?” He said narrowing his eyes.“Yes.”“And because of that you want to send me to the annual Ministry Ball? Because that is my wish. To go to a ball. Tonight. Filled with people who hate me.” Before Jeni could cut in, he added, “An ex-Death Eater. In a room full of Aurors.”Or, a drarry tale based roughly off of Cinderella)

Story with most bookmarks: 29 bookmarks from Roses of Hope, and the runner up with 20 was a present for carpetmaidtales called Number 12 Grimmauld Place and the Very Bad Fight (Summary: Number 12 Grimmauld Place was having a rough day. A rough life, actually. It had been looking up for a while, and after the Potter-Malfoy wedding it had finally felt as if it had the family it was meant to hold. Until The Fight.***Harry and Draco talk about the future, and their misunderstandings provide for a rough couple of days)

Story with most subscriptions: 2 subscriptions from Roses of Hope, but Beat that, Cinderella and Tuesday Morning (MY FIST FICCCC) each have one subscription (Tuesday Morning Summary: Based off of the amazing song Tuesday Morning by Staganddragon, this fic follows Harry and Draco's relationship on Tuesday mornings throughout their entire life)

Story I’m most proud of: In perfect fashion, the two pics I am possibly most proud of are also the ones that I have not mentioned yet. I tend to really like deep descriptions, and that’s essentially all that these were. One was a birthday fic for Janel, or goldentruth815, called Colors of Love (Summary: It was ritualistic, the way that Teddy would worship him in the mornings. Freckles first. Neck kisses would be next, followed by whispered endearments in his ear. ***James and Teddy share a quiet morning together, full of love.). The other, I wrote for Valentine’s Day when I was just so filled with wanting of love that I had to have a release. And it was in the form The Color of his Eyes (I know I’m the worst at names I’m sorry, Summary: Draco cannot stop staring. He is lost in Harry. And as always, Harry cannot help but to be lost in Draco)

What’s next: Oh my god guys so fucking much!! I am partaking in wireless first and foremost, but also in drizzle!!! I have so much planned for you guys just you wait!! I also am writing for food fair but it is sUPeR SeCraTiVE so I won't say more but I’ll write some drabbles to hold you guys over <3 <3 <3

Hmmmmmm for the next victims I would like to tag @jet-playin of whom I would love to see the stats from <3 <3 <3

#phia writes #phia rambles #phia rants #you guys are the best though #all you that support me and read my stuff #look forward to being here for a while with you guys #love ya!

[shirlleycoyle]

For UFO Hunters, the Owls Really Aren’t What They Seem

"The owls are not what they seem." 

This was the cryptic warning uttered by the Giant in Twin Peaks, echoing eerily throughout David Lynch and Mark Frost's surreal series. For illustrator and author Mike Clelland, though, these psychic pronouncements ring especially true. For the past decade, he has worked tirelessly to catalogue paranormal sightings of the fluffy avian predators. 

As the self-described "owl guy" of the UFO world, Clelland has become the foremost writer theorizing a connection between owls and alien encounters. His book on the subject, The Messengers, is a collection of anecdotes from people who claim to have had paranormal experiences involving the ominous birds.

It all began after Clelland saw owls circling overhead for an entire hour during a 2006 camping trip. Familiar with a supposed UFO-owl link, Clelland intuitively felt there was something mystical, otherworldly, or even alien to the animals above. Moved by the events, Clelland eventually connected owl sightings to disturbing alien abduction experiences of his own, spurring him to post a call for any strange owl anecdotes on his website. 

To his surprise, the stories streamed in, tying the birds to UFOs, abductions, "missing time," and other strange phenomena. Meanwhile, owls began to manifest themselves to Clelland "in a flurry of weirdness," for instance, appearing to hover at eye-level before fluttering away as he rode his bike through his small Idaho town. Now, he's collected thousands of accounts, with at least one landing in his inbox every day.

"That people are actually having experiences that imply contact with some sort of non-human intelligence is strange enough," Clelland writes in his book. "Adding owls into the mix makes it all the more bizarre. Like a performance on a stage, the owl is playing a small role in the grand drama. The part it plays is a riddle begging to be solved."

After an encountering an owl at 4 AM, one of Clelland's contacts says her car careened off a bluff on a mountain highway. She was uninjured, despite the air bags failing to deploy.

It would appear that Mike Clelland is not much closer to solving this riddle, though he has some ideas. 

Conceding that his owl hypothesis is "way out beyond the boundaries of the UFO mainstream," he insists he's brought over some "stodgy folks" to his way of thinking after talks at conferences. 

"I've had my own direct experiences, and some would call these UFO abductions," Clelland told Motherboard in a phone interview. "That's a term I use all the time, but it's not the right term, because it's stranger than that: it's more elusive, more mysterious."

Before the owls, Clelland's own experiences included waking at his small house in Maine, at the age of 30, to find a bright light flooding his bedroom and "five spindly aliens" standing in his yard, back-lit by a singular round shape. At first, he dismissed this as a dream, but it was unlike any dream he'd had before: extremely vivid, and accompanied by an uneasy feeling of distorted reality—an occurrence so common it's been dubbed the Oz Factor by UFOlogists. And it occurred again. And again. 

Frenetically tumbling down this rabbit hole, Clelland expected to find a magazine article or two on the subject. Instead, he discovered a "bottomless pit of strangeness," where owls seemed to be "interwoven into the UFO experience" like a very thin thread. With his research, he felt he was tugging on that thread, and fell deeper down the rabbit-hole.

Strange stories within his book include the testimony of Ron Johnson, a regular UFO conference attendee who claimed to have had alien visitations at home, and who noticed a steady stream of guest owls by the porch of his mothers' house. One in particular would watch him as he left for work, and remain perched on the same branch when he returned later that day. Once, Johnson says, he felt an inexplicable desire to leave the house in the middle of the night, and when he did, found a four-foot-tall owl standing in his driveway, waiting to exchange stares.

These "impossibly large owls," as Clelland calls them, are a regular enough incidence: one unnamed contactee claimed to have seen a UFO and then, shortly afterwards, pulled over in his car, where he was greeted by a four-foot-tall owl with a wingspan large enough to encase the front of the vehicles' chassis, wing-mirror to wing-mirror. Clelland notes that even the very tallest owls should not be this tall. 

And from the archives of UFO researcher and fellow owl enthusiast Håkan Blomqvist is a story from Sorbo, Sweden, in summer 1966. Two men travelling by moped pulled over for a bathroom break, and when they did, noticed an owl sitting on a post beside the road. Shortly afterwards, they claimed to have seen a large, silvery craft, hovering 150 meters above ground, and when it landed, there appeared to be movement by strange humanoid figures within. 

Among the many anecdotes, Clelland tells me some of the most common experiences surround "missing time." Contactees stop to admire an owl, and when they're on their way again, they realise hours have passed. A theory is these owl appearances could be "screen memories"—psychically implanted visions where owls are merely disguised stand-ins, with hypnotic regression therapy later revealing something much weirder. 

In fact, they're so common that according to Clelland, when he brought up the owl phenomenon to the late, veteran alien abduction researcher Budd Hopkins, he would roll his eyes and say that the stories are everywhere.

Not all of the reports in his book feature a supposed alien connection, although there are many of those. Some instead point to a seemingly un-graspable, mystical link, such as foreboding forewarnings, or personal spiritual awakening. 

Clelland avoids concluding that owls are doing the bidding of aliens, though. "I don't think the UFO's occupants are pushing a little button and saying: 'Calling all owls, meet us at this spot to give this person a psychic experience'," he said. "I think it's happening in a much more mystical, overlapping way than that."

That mystical foreboding is found all over contemporary culture, and sometimes it features aliens, too. The enigmatic owls of Twin Peaks are theorized by some to have been influenced by an owl encounter in Whitley Strieber's influential alien abduction book, Communion. (Neither Mark Frost or David Lynch responded to a request for comment.) And Slaughterhouse Five's traumatized time-traveller Billy Pilgrim seemed to be warned by an owl when he was abducted suddenly by a flying saucer from the planet Tralfamadore. 

Further back throughout history, many cultures have held up owls as creatures of spiritual significance, whether portents of doom and death, or symbolic of wealth and wisdom, as with Lakshmi's vahana, and Athena. There's the owl-like Goetic Great Prince of Hell, Stolas, who teaches astronomy and is knowledgeable about herbs, plants, and precious stones. In Deuteronomy, readers are instructed not to eat owls, and they're mentioned elsewhere in the Bible too. Native American cultures place numerous spiritual associations on owls, ranging from ill omens to prophecy, vision and insight, and protection.

Unless you're a rodent, though, their reputation as omens of death is perhaps unfair, says nature writer and author of the Hidden Lives of Owls, Leigh Calvez. Eating as many as 1,500 rodents a year, there's a strong case for owls helping to protect people from diseases like the plague. 

"If we didn't have them, we would be in trouble," Calvez told Motherboard. 

But she acknowledges that they do hold a mythic quality. In the introduction of her book, Calvez details the vast differences in perception—from owl feathers fastened to protective talismans in Mongolia to associations of material abundance for the Ainu in Japan. Calvez says that the shriek of a banshee could be attributed to barn owls, as they like to hunt in open spaces like graveyards at night. When you listen to their calls, the theory is convincing. 

Even history's most infamous conquerors are not free from the influence of owls, with the hooting of the bird supposedly predicting the deaths of Julius Caesar and Augustus in ancient Rome. For Genghis Khan, though, an owl may have rescued him from pursuers. "The entire spectrum of human emotion is projected onto these creatures," adds Calvez.

Whatever their emperor-protecting or killing abilities, there's something captivating about these birds. Folklore and mysticism notwithstanding, they are remarkable creatures: with satellite-dish-like faces perfect for hunting by sound, and powerful, long, tubular eyes that are fixed in place, hence their swivelling heads. 

Sadly, no ornithologists wanted to speak with Motherboard about Clelland's thesis, although one who did not wish to be named said that myths and folklore are directly linked to conservation: how we perceive these animals relates to how much we want to help them.

Given their unusual features, a skeptical view might be that owls, simply put, are weird. They often, but not always, have really big eyes, mostly appear at night, and make very strange sounds. A quick look at the birds without feathers demonstrates their gray-alien-esque qualities. 

But is that enough to discount the missing time? The mystical associations, the sense of wondrous profundity provoked by these hugely symbolic creatures? Their archetypal qualities rooted in the collective unconscious… or something like that? 

Whatever the case, Clelland says his appreciation of the birds has only grown. Although he may not be a great deal closer to solving his own personal owl puzzles, one thing's for sure: if you've got a Strigiformes story, he wants to hear it.

For UFO Hunters, the Owls Really Aren’t What They Seem syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: Win the Race (ao3 link) Fandom: Flash, Legends of Tomorrow, references to Arrow Pairing: Barry Allen/Iris West; Leonard Snart/Mick Rory

Summary: You make some adjustments when aliens attack and a whole bunch of people get abducted.

Adjustments like adopting some kids - very quick kids -

(in which Len and Mick accidentally adopt Barry and Iris' kids)

A/N: Set past the end of Flash season 3. Very few Legends.

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

Losing Barry had hurt worse than anything.

Iris didn't want to eat - their favorite places - or see anyone - everyone reminded her of him - or, well, do anything.

They'd sent out their save the date cards, so at least she didn't have to look at the box of all her hopes and dreams and optimism. Not that that made her feel better. At least Dad took care of calling all of them and explaining that the wedding is off.

It's about a month and a half before people start getting impatient with her moping. Luckily, Iris gets sick right around the same time - vomiting! That means she's really sick, not just more moping! - so that's a good excuse to keep inside and away from everyone.

Play with McSnurtle. At least he doesn't pressure her to move on because "this isn't what Barry would've wanted".

Well, Barry's trapped in the stupid-ass speed force by his own stupid guilt - seriously, Iris has a list of alternative ways they could've satisfied the Speed Force's need for a speedster without having to give up Barry, because she totally hasn't been obsessing over this or anything - so Barry's sort of lost his right to have a say.

There's a knock at her door.

"Go away, Dad!" Iris shouts.

"It's, uh, it's not your dad," a muffled female voice says.

Iris frowns. She doesn't have that many female friends - never did, sad to say - so she's not immediately sure who it is.

She goes over to the door, wonders for a minute if whoever it is outside is going to judge her because she's wearing Barry's old college t-shirt and a pair of his STAR Labs sweats, figures the answer is yes, accepts it, and pulls open the door anyway.

She blinks.

"Caitlin?" she asks. "Or, uh, is it Killer Frost right now?"

"Caitlin is fine," the now white-haired woman says wryly. "I see you're handling what happened better than I handled Ronnie dying. Both times."

Iris hesitates. It's true, Caitlin does know what she's going through. That being said - "I'm not really in the mood for sympathy."

"I'm not here to offer it," Caitlin says. "I'm here to take you to your doctor's appointment."

"My...?"

"By your own report, you've been vomiting on a daily basis for two weeks straight. As a doctor: you are now way past time to see a doctor. Now, we either go to your GP for a walk in, or I kidnap you and take you to my lair to test you anyway. Since I am still a doctor myself."

Iris cracks a smile. "Is your lair STAR Labs?"

"Everything there is still set up for me," Caitlin says, not denying it.

"I'll call my doctor," Iris says. She doesn't want to go to STAR Labs. "She takes walk-ins."

She had time for Iris, miracles of miracles.

Iris wishes she'd taken the time to shower but, honestly, putting on real clothing was about as much effort as she was willing to put into this. Caitlin hadn't commented.

She had refused to leave, which - seriously? Iris isn't going to go out of a window to avoid having to have regular human interactions. Probably.

...not now, anyway.

"So, doc, what's the news?" Iris jokes. "Am I dying?"

She almost means it.

"Nothing like that, Iris," her doctor says warmly. "Just a bad bout of morning sickness."

Iris freezes. "Of...what?"

Dr. Hansen looks sympathetically at her. "Oh, I’m sorry! I didn't realize you didn’t know. Congratulations, Ms. West; you're pregnant."

Pregnant? But -

Barry.

"Oh god," Iris says, and goes to throw up.

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

"This sucks," Mick says.

"You're the one who wanted to live in a post-apocalyptic wasteland," Len points out snippily.

Mick thinks about objecting - Len needs to let 2046 go already! Mick's gotten over the Oculus! ...mostly! - but then Len blasts a few more aliens and Mick decides to let it go. Len's tired, he's tired. Len's always like order more than he did, and there's not much of that to be found now.

It's the end of the world.

No, really. The Dominators fleeing with their tails between their legs had apparently drawn the attention of the whatever-the-fuck these things were called, and this time, they'd been smart about it.

They went for the heroes first.

Of course, Barry was gone, so Central City was defended by a combination of Cisco - Mick refuses to call him Vibe, especially since Lisa had made that terrible joke about it - and Kid Flash, but they weren't Barry.

They'd never be Barry, and they knew it.

When the aliens came, they were careful to attack a whole bunch of places all at once, all places the heroes cared about, so that there wouldn't be enough time for a team-up. Without Barry to hold it together, any team-up probably wouldn't have worked, anyway.

They got to most of Team Arrow first, luring them onto a spaceship and then portalling it to the other end of the goddamn galaxy. As far as Mick had heard, those guys weren't dead, but they weren't getting home anytime soon, either. At least they'd been with their families when they'd detoured onto that ship - they'd been right in the middle of getting them out of the refugee camps the government had unwisely started forming.

Queen and Felicity were all that were left behind, and they're still standing, last Mick heard. They have a check-in every fortnight with them just to be sure.

Central City, with its metahumans, wasn't anywhere as lucky. The aliens timed their attack well - they'd invaded relentlessly, again and again and again, goading them, then waited until Team Flash got desperate. Team Flash had developed a habit of visit Earth-2 (apparently Kid Flash was dating the Flash of that Earth, which seemed weird, but also the Harrison Wells of that Earth served as their mentor so honestly Mick wasn't gonna ask), and they'd fallen back on the same habit when they decided to go seek help and a safe place to let some of their heroes rest.

That'd been what the aliens had been waiting for, the assholes. They detonate an EMP over STAR Labs just as the going group was jumping, disabling Cisco's universe-hopping device, and then they'd snapped Cisco up into one of those goddamn pods before he could make his way through.

Long-term stasis units, they were called. Fucking bullshit, that's what Mick thinks of them. They zap you unconscious and drag you to one of the pod farms, and then you're just lying there all Matrix-like, not aging, not moving, just asleep. Frozen in time.

But with no universe-hopper and no Cisco, there was no way for Team Flash to make it home. Joe West, Wally West, some other woman, even Caitlin Snow - all gone.

Only Iris West and Julian Albert had been left behind, and neither of them had powers. They'd teamed up with another CSI - some girl named Patty who used to be a cop - but there was only so much that they could do, these last few months.

The aliens were hunting them, too. Any association with Team Flash was as good as a target. They'd gotten Patty a week or so back, and Mick was pretty sure the other two weren't much longer for the world.

Which left Central City under the dubious protection of -

Well.

Him and Len.

Len was Central City's son, born and bred, and he was her foremost supervillain now that Grodd had been banished. The aliens hadn't counted for him in their plans.

Mostly because he'd been spending some time dead at the time they'd made their plans, but hey, what can you do?

(Len likes to tell people it was for tax reasons. Mick likes to hit Len whenever he says that.)

It'd ended up being to Mick's benefit, at any rate; when the aliens ambushed the Waverider, breaking the time drive and stranding them all god-knows-when, Mick was already back on land, nursing a still time-confused Len back to health. Len had gotten over his little brush with death - he'd only come back because they'd screwed up the timeline to such a horrific extent with that spear thing, but he was back and that's what's important to Mick - and now he was back with a vengeance.

A vengeance currently fixated on the aliens that had ruined large portions of his city.

Mick always said he'd give everything to Len, in the end, and he did: he dug up his old ship, with the Kronos armor, and though the time drive there was shot too - decay rather than sabotage, but either way still useless - it was still useful in launching a hell of an effective surprise attack on the bastards from space.

Mick also picked up some tips on armor from Haircut during their time on the Waverider, putting together weapons and cloaks and all sorts of shit you can use growing and shrinking and blaster tech for.

Len took a different approach. He gathered every metahuman still in Central - villain and civilian and confused - and he whipped them into a defense force under his control.

Well.

His and Lisa's.

The Rogues had been designed to be villains, but in the absence of real heroes, they ended up being hero substitutes instead.

Hell, the Rogues had been so goddamn successful that Lisa had ended up branching out, splitting off her own hand-selected group of Rogues and going to Gotham to recruit the villains there into their own version of a defense force. Len hadn't wanted to see her go, of course, but she'd insisted...

"Hey, Mick, you hear that?"

Mick pauses in where he's melting an alien which is probably (definitely) already dead by now, clicking his gun to silence.

Nothing at first, then, very distantly –

Crying.

"Someone's in trouble," Mick says.

"Let's go," Len says. "Unless you're getting low on charge..."

"Nah, I'm good. Ever since we got the dwarf star, the recharge times have been excellent, even if it does make the gun heavy as fuck."

"Good. Let's go."

The aliens are centering around a cute little daycare. There's a car which shows the typical signs of alien attack, so whoever had gone out to get groceries - Mick can see them spilled out on the ground - was almost certainly already pod-bound even as they approached.

The crying was coming from the daycare.

Shit, kids. Len hates it when aliens go after kids.

"Can we get them?" Len asks, trying to come off as dispassionate, coldly analytical as his nickname suggests, but Mick knows Len. His whole brain is bent on trying to figure out how they could save the kids - not at the expense of their lives, which Len knew were too valuable to Central to lose, but certainly with less of a margin for risk than usual.

Mick studies the situation. "Think so," he says, because he does. "Your call, boss."

"Let's move in. I'll go point, take center; you come in later."

Mick nods. They'd figured out the best way to hit these assholes long ago: the reason their plans were so good in advance is because they had their sharpest minds back on their homeworld planning it. The drones they sent to Earth, on the other hand, were shit at dealing with the unexpected.

Which is to say, dealing with Len at all, really.

Even against regular non-armed humans, they'd found the best way was for one human to establish a pattern of attack (like, throwing things) and when the aliens had adjusted to that attack, a second person attacks from a different direction using a different method (stabbing, shooting, whatever). The aliens are momentarily paralyzed trying to recalibrate their expectations, leaving a window of time when the humans can successfully attack or run away.

Mick and Len have been teaching a lot of self-defense classes at the underground refugee camp.

It's not actually underground, to be fair; it was just connected by radio and maintained-with-great-difficulty-and-sacrifice Internet into a living network instead of gathering up in person. The aliens used actual refugee camps as targets - too many humans in one place was practically asking for an attack. So they did the rounds, instead, meeting in short bursts and living off correspondence. But it's still living, which is better than not-living.

Len moves in with his cold gun.

The aliens he hits first die. The rest balk their wings (terrible buzzing creatures, like flies who couldn't achieve lift) and adopt a defensive formation, weakest drones out in front to act as a living shield against Len's ice while the stronger ones harden their shells against the cold.

Of course, a hard shell means that temperatures that go too high will cook them from the inside out.

Mick hoists his own gun and waits for the signal.

Len gives it, and in he goes.

There are more aliens than he'd anticipated, more than usual for these sort of pod runs, but about halfway through the fight Len and Mick swap guns and that confuses the aliens yet again. No one expects Captain Cold to be wielding flame.

Mick ends up having to bring out his Kronos pulse rifle to finish them off, which is a surprise; it's been a while since there have been so many gathered in one spot.

"Big family or important target?" Mick asks Len, who snorts.

"No more important targets left," he replies. "Let's go."

Inside, there are kids.

But not a huge amount, no; there are only two. Not even toddlers, not really - they're something like a year and a half, max. Maybe two, if Mick's being generous. And they're all alone.

"Shit," Mick says, already wracking his brain to see if he can find anyone who wants babies. The foster families are filled to the brim; the underground network is stretched thin...

Len kneels next to the kids. One boy, one girl. "Hey," he says gently, like he's talking to Lisa way back when she was young. "No more aliens, kids. Just me and Mick."

Mick's not expecting it to work - the kids are too young to really understand what Len's saying, and the calm tone he's using will eventually take some time to sooth them - but somehow it does. They calm down and reach out their chubby little arms to Len.

People who think Len's cold-hearted have never seen how quick he melts.

"Hey," Len says gently. "Where's your mom?"

They sniffle. "Momma back?" one asks hopefully. At least, that's what Mick thinks she's asking, it's a little slurred with tears.

Mick thinks of the car outside. "Doubt it."

Len glares at him. "What about your dad?"

"Daddy's gone." That sounded rehearsed, or at least an echo of something said regularly enough by a loving adult for the kids to repeat as well.

"Mick?" Len asks, but he's already put away the cold gun and is gathering them into his arms.

"I'm thinking!" Mick says. "There's a couple of options..." He shakes his head. "No one immediate. We'll have to cover for a few days while I get in contact with people."

Len nods. "My name's Len," he tells them. "You can call me Lenny, if you like. What’s your names?"

Oh, crap, they're at Lenny status already? Damnit Len, you can't get attached to all of them...

"Dawn," the girl says proudly.

"Don," the boy says, equally proud. "I'm a Don."

"Nice to meet you both," Len says gently, and Mick already knows what's going to happen.

Sure enough, by the time - about three days - that Mick finds someone to take the kids in, Len's in love.

Worse, Mick's got a case of the same.

"We can't keep 'em," he tells Len.

"We definitely can't," Len agrees. "C'mon, Duckie, open up for the airplane..."

Don - now proudly nicknamed Duckie, under the assumption that Don is short for Donald - pouts and turns his face away.

Len sighs dramatically. "Oh, well," he says. "Guess I'll have to eat this myself."

"No!" Duckie yells. "Mine!"

"Fine. Then you eat it."

There's a tug at Mick's pants. He looks down.

Dawn - already fed - looks up at him hopefully. "Dawnie up?" she asks.

"Sure, sunshine," he says, and scoops her up. Dawn likes to be tall. "You wanna sit on my shoulders?"

"Yeah!"

Onto the shoulders she goes.

Dawn imperiously waves at Duckie, making him demand that Len lift him as well.

"We can't," Mick says again, but it's weaker.

"You sure?" Len asks.

Mick sighs.

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

It's not that Len and Mick don't try to find the kids' original family. They do! If there was family, even if they're all dead, they'd want to know so they could honor their traditions or some such like that. Len is a stickler for that, talking grimly about the non-consensual adoption of Jewish kids after the Holocaust by converting Christians and how he ain't ever gonna be a party to that sort of shit.

Mick's got fewer personal connections to the issue, but he agrees.

Unfortunately, the daycare has nothing to tell them who lived there or who was using it. Their files were burnt, their walls were scrubbed, everything. The car is equally useless, since the obvious evidence of shoddy hotwiring makes it clear that it was stolen.

Asking Dawnie or Duckie is equally useless. It's not their fault, they're not even three; they happily tell them about Momma (mostly that they want her back and how she made things better), and Daddy (gone), and Paw-Paw (gone away as opposed to just gone), and Auntie C and Uncle C.

Auntie C had cold hands and Uncle C always has the best toys, but they also went “away”.

Not that unusual a story, honestly, but not very helpful.

Honestly, at this point, all they can guess at this point is that, given their light brown skin tone, at least one of their parents was black, possibly both. Dawnie is darker than Duckie, but her hair is straight and fine while his shows distinct signs of kinks and curls as it grows out.

Honestly, they're not even all too sure about that much. Neither of them were ever all that good at identifying ethnicities.

Whatever. The kids are the kids, and that's good enough.

They do eventually find out their middle names, via Duckie’s excellent memory of the fact that their Mommy used to be a first-and-middle name person when she was angry.

Well, okay, he doesn't actually explain that. He just waggles his finger at a misbehaving Dawnie and says in excellent adult mimicry "Dawn Eleonora, stop!"

Duckie's middle name (Henry) takes a bit longer to figure out, but they extract it with patience.

"I can't believe you finally cracked and got kids," Lisa gushes over the phone. "Tell 'em Auntie Lisa is coming to visit!"

"We're not their parents, we're just -" Len starts, but she's already hung up.

Hurricane Lisa shows up a few weeks later - transit from Gotham to Central isn't that easy any more - and that's the moment Mick really considers to be the start of their family.

Lisa's always been the best communicator in the Snart family. The kids love her.

She asks them what names they want to call Len and Mick, since they're going to be their new parents now. Len assures them that Uncle is fine for both of them, but the kids never really had a Daddy before (because their Daddy's gone) and they are delighted by the idea of having more.

"I refuse to be Dad or Daddy," Len says stiffly. "I won't take that away from their original Dad."

Lisa and Mick share a knowing glance, fully aware that it isn't the real reason and the real reason is the man Len called dad right up until the day he died even though he'd long since lost the right to it.

"I called my dad 'Pa' most of the time I knew him," Mick offers helplessly.

"What about what's the word," Lisa says. "From your mom's dad. Sabba."

"No, that means grandfather," Len corrects. "Dad is Abba."

"Then be Abba."

"I think I'd rather be Lenny," Len says, nose wrinkled.

It doesn't help him, of course. Duckie and Dawnie pick up on Abba for him like lightning - they still call him Lenny half the time, but he's their Abba, just as Mick is their Pa as often as he is Mick or Mickey.

They boast to the other kids at their new, underground daycare that they have a Momma, a Daddy, an Abba and a Pa, but of course Momma and Daddy weren’t around. The other kids – most of them with adopted parents of their own by – solemnly agree that this is by far superior to the system demonstrated on the films they watch. Those poor kids on the TV with only a Mom and a Dad and no one else; how sad.

Kids.

Mick hadn't expected he'd love the two of them as much as he does. Oh, sure, he'd expected to feed them - he does - and to worry about them - oh, he does - but he hadn't really thought about the way his shoulders would relax every time he hears their voices. The way his chest would glow and swell every time they run to him first. How every goddamn thing they did was the best way to do that thing, because they were wonderful and brilliant children.

His wonderful and brilliant children.

He hadn't expected how Len would melt for them, and stay melted. How Len was terrified of screwing them up and how he never, ever lost his temper with them. How effective and devastating a disappointed look could be, because Len refused to spank them.

(Mick eventually finds out that the kids had picked up on his and Len's tendency to worry about each other and that Len had exploited this ruthlessly, asking them to think about whether their actions would make their Mickey sad before they did them. He curses Len's name and quickly makes up for lost time by suggesting that they pay close attention to Len to see if he also needs love and affection. Len gets covered in snuggles on the regular. He doesn't complain.)

The kids also grow ridiculously fast.

Okay, totally within normal levels for kids their age - the doc swears it's true - but they're people. They're little people.

Mick can't remember when his siblings became people all those years ago. Nate was still a baby, he remembers that much, but the rest of it...

He's very careful to use the fire pit and lighters and other Len-regulated fire sources, and his kids know everything there is to know about fire safety.

Len teaches them how to spot danger and how to avoid it. He also teaches them how to pick locks.

They're the best four-year-old robbers ever, even if Len really had meant for it to be another safety measure. The idea of them being captured by aliens because they couldn't get through a locked door - unacceptable.

"Also, it's good finger coordination development," Len says, lying like a rug. It is, of course, but that’s blatantly not the reason he’s passing on his skills.

There’s still plenty they don’t know about the kids’ lives before Len and Mick found them: for example, Dawnie and Duckie are clearly twins, but they don’t know when their birthday is. As a result, they argue about it at length - sometime early in the year, they think, because of the vague memories of snow. They end up having January 23 for Dawnie and February 7 for Duckie, just because it's easier to give in than to explain that twins are born on the same day.

At any rate, it gives them more time to pick presents now that the kid are old enough to appreciate it.

Mick and Len are just debating the question of gifts - it's May and Mick had unwisely brought up the issue of half-birthdays - when the old Particle Accelerator, an abandoned and mostly destroyed STAR Labs, suddenly goes up in a painfully familiar mushroom cloud of orange light. It doesn't spread the way the first one did, but it does go up like a goddamn firecracker.

"Oh, shit," Len says.

Mick just runs to get a car.

They're the only ones going towards the labs rather than away; Mick sees people ducking into shelters in well-practiced motions.

The Rogues' war against the aliens was doing that much, at least: the aliens avoided Central more than they attacked it, nowadays. They were focused on subduing other parts of the world.

The same protection applied in Gotham, under Lisa and her girlfriend Selina.

The same in Bludhaven, where Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn - previously part of Lisa's Rogues - had set up their own Rogues.

The same in Starling, which had reverted to its old name out of habit, and where Oliver and Felicity had taken their sweet time about accepting the Rogues' offer to help but now considered themselves the leaders of the Starling Rogues instead of Team Arrow, a name they still used to refer to their long-lost teammates.

Mardon hadn't wanted to leave Central at first, but he couldn't resist Len's carefully structured offer to be the leader of the Rogues in the Windy City. Shawna, who'd been from Chicago initially, went with him to keep his ego in check.

Scudder had managed to get over himself enough to agree to work for Len again, his fear of the aliens managing to break through even his narcissism. After half a year learning how to fight aliens at Len's side, he'd been dispatched to L.A. to teach the self-absorbed assholes there how to really fight an alien movie. He liked Hollywood.

Rosa preferred San Francisco. Len was just happy that there was distance between the two of them - as much as they were still technically together, Rosa's obsession with Sam faded when he wasn't in her sight and she remembered things. Things like having been a first-rate computer engineer, once upon a time, and something of a genius. She did well in San Francisco and the nearby Palo Alto, between its tech industry and its loopier residents.

People were starting to figure out that where there were Rogues, there could be a city again.

Mick wonders, again, if he should inform Len that he'd become a general, but as always decides against it. Len thinks of the Rogues as his crew, albeit a crew that has scattered across the nation and each of whom is leading their own hand-crafted militia unit in the protection of their territory.

No need to trouble Len with politics. It's not like they had anyone strong enough to actually do more than hold back the aliens for a while.

At least, they didn't until they got to the center of the Accelerator, where they found a very confused-looking Barry Allen rubbing his eyes and shouting, "Guys? I'm back! Guys? Is anyone here?"

"Holy crap," Mick says.

Len is somewhat more fluent than that. He always did have a facility for Yiddish curses (Mick particularly likes the one that goes 'may you be as a lamp - so that you can be hung during the day and lit on fire every night!', all in about three or four harsh-voweled words.).

"What now, boss?" Mick asks.

"Now," Len says, smiling like he can't stop, "now we have hope."

"Snart?" Barry asks when he sees them approach. "Rory? What are you doing here? What happened to this place?" He gestures at the ruined room.

"You've been gone five years," Len says. "It's been an interesting time. Let me tell you all about it..."

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

"I can't believe it," Barry says, looking shell-shocked, his fingers clenched around a mug of hot chocolate. Len had broken out the good stuff for their guest, which is to say, the Swiss Miss with mini marshmallows. "Five years - and so much has changed -"

"The emotion you're looking for is 'I go away for five years and you assholes trash the place'," Len informs him.

Dawnie giggles. "You said a bad word."

"There are no bad words," Len tells her. "Only bad men."

"Not what Mrs. Levy says..."

"See, that's one thing," Barry says. "You guys have kids! Small adorable kids!"

"We're not small," Duckie says. "We're four."

"Paragons of age and maturity," Mick agrees solemnly.

Barry chuckles, but it still sounds strained and tense.

"Can you still time travel?" Mick asks, curious, thinking of the lost Waverider, still stuck who-knows-when.

"No. Well, a little. Not enough to help."

"What do you mean?"

"Speed force said I was abusing it and took it away," Barry explains. "Even though I tried not to mess up the timeline -"

"Let me get the sequence of this right," Len drawls. "You get told by everyone not to change time. You do it. Everything gets fucked up. You do it again. More fucked up. Speed force shows up personally, says don't do it. You do it anyway. Speedforce comes and gives you an ass-kicking, saying don't do it. And you do it again, but this time you're trying not to mess up the timeline. And you're surprised it yanked your cord?"

Barry makes a face. "Yeah. I've gotten the lecture."

"I'm not comfortable with how we're anthropomorphizing forces of nature," Mick grumbles.

"You think this is a problem, try being in the middle of a three-way argument between Death, Dream and Destiny about whether or not the way your life ended was narratively satisfying," Len grumbles back.

Barry looks a question at Mick, who shakes his head. He doesn't have any answers. He doesn't even want to have questions.

"So my friends..?" Barry asks instead.

"Like we said," Len says, easily distracted away from disturbing subjects. "Most of 'em are fine, just stuck on Earth-2. The only way to get 'em back is Cisco -"

"Who's stuck in the matrix?"

"Matrix-like stasis pod," Len says. "Good news is, you pop 'em open, people inside should be fine. Probably not even notice that time passed."

"And the bad news?"

"There's a shitload of pods, and we've got no idea which one your boy's in," Len says frankly. "Or your girl, neither."

"Why didn't Iris go to Earth-2 with the others?"

"No clue," Len tells him honestly. "Not like they really told us much. Cisco was hit first, yeah. West held up pretty well for a long time, but we were allies, not buddies. She was secretive. Ran a radio program. But a few years back, it cut off."

"She might be dead," Mick warns.

"She's not," Barry says firmly. Not the slightest trace of doubt.

"Speed force tell you that?" Mick asks skeptically.

Barry grins crookedly. "Actually, yes," he says. "It said I could save her if I took it slow."

"What does that even mean?" Mick demands.

"It means we're gonna save the world again," Len says, pretending to be put out about it. "One pod-break at a time."

"Do you know how to get into them?" Barry asks.

"Sure, but the risk's too high," Len says. "Unless, of course, I have a speedster on my side."

Barry swallows and sits up straighter, like he's making a decisions. "In that case, consider me one of your Rogues."

Judging by the delighted look on Len's face, his apocalypse has been made.

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

There's a giggle and a thump and then more giggling.

Len has become a veteran child-raiser in the last two years, if he does say so himself, which is why he puts down the blueprints and heads over to the living room where the giggling is coming from.

Barry is sprawled out on his back on the Twister board, grinning helplessly as the twins crow at him.

"I see you're hard at work," Len says dryly.

Barry beams at him. "They said you and Mick refused to play it with them," he says earnestly. "What was I supposed to do, not teach them?"

"Like you couldn't not teach them the Macarena and the Chicken Dance?"

"Hey, you made me an honorary uncle when I moved in," Barry points out with some justice. Len hadn't been sure how else to explain 'magnet for trouble so I need to keep an eye on him' to the kids after years of refusing to cohabitate with any other family. "Part of that involves teaching them stuff that will drive you nuts."

"Not while you live here, I think. The true terror is Lisa."

Barry nods so fast that he's blurring, undoubtedly remembering when Lisa had managed to dig up some Tickle Me Elmo dolls for the kids' fourth birthday. Len had nearly strangled her - it was a rare item nowadays, so she'd clearly put time and effort into finding them, but it was also designed to drive Len, Mick and now Barry absolutely insane.

"You are menaces, you know," Len informs the twins.

"Like Dennis!" Dawn says excitedly. "Dennis the menace."

"Pa and Abba are pretty good menaces, too," Duckie says loyally.

"I'm not a good menace?" Barry pretends to pout.

"No! You're a hero!" Duckie proclaims. He’s maintained that ever since he found a Flash action figure.

Dawnie gives Barry a hug. "That's almost as good," she assures him with her nearly-a-five-year-old-really solemnity.

Barry laughs and hugs back. "Now," he says, making a big show of checking his watch. "I think you promised me that if I showed you how to play Twister..."

The twins giggle and run away from whatever chore they promised. Barry doesn't give chase, just watches them fondly.

"You're good at this," Len tells him.

"I'm a little jealous," Barry admits. "I've always wanted kids."

"You and Iris...?"

"Oh, no," Barry says. "We were only just getting married. Do you know what Joe would do to me if she'd gotten pregnant? Shotgun wedding doesn't even begin to describe it."

Len frowns. "But if you were getting married already..?"

"Doesn't mean Joe wants to think about us having sex," Barry says dryly. "At least if we were married, he could imagine that we conceived by magic or something."

Len shakes his head. He doesn't understand, but then again, he hadn't ever really expected to have kids.

"You're good with them," he says again.

"They're good kids," Barry agrees. "I hope that if Iris and I ever do have kids, they'd turn out like that." He thinks about it for a second. "Maybe slightly less larcenous."

"That's all good parenting," Len says proudly. "Now c'mon, I want you to see the plans."

Barry nods and is standing by Len's side before the words fade away. "What's the next step, now that we've cleaned out Central City?"

"Figuring out a way to consolidate our gains - installing those shield-makers Felicity reverse-programmed from alien ship tech, for one thing. I want Central City to live like a community again, not just refugees."

Barry nods.

"Also," Len says, "I think it's time to go north."

"North?"

"The largest single pod housing facility in the Midwest is located in the Dakotas," Len says. "We break that, we're talking tens of thousands of people. Possibly hundreds."

"Crap," Barry says, blinking. Most of the pod facilities were measured in the dozens or hundreds. "That means transportation. Serious and immediate transportation. That many people all together will definitely catch the attention of the local patrol ship."

Len stays silent.

"Unless that's the goal," Barry says.

"Mick's in Starling getting a crash course in alien tech," Len tells him. "Between Felicity's deductions and his own knowledge of piloting from his time with the Time Masters, I think we can do it."

"Are you planning on stealing an alien ship?" Barry demands, half-horrified and half-impressed. Mostly impressed.

Len smirks. "I told you, Scarlet. I intend for Central City to be free. The shields will help. Having our own gun-ship? That'll help more."

Barry nods. "And the people -"

"If we can defend them in the ships, we can do a slower transport. Cars, trucks, buses, the works."

"It's going to be massive."

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Barry says. "We're opening pods, which means we could be finding Cisco and Iris. I'm totally in. I'm just saying, it's going to be massive. Who's gonna watch the kids?"

"Mrs. Levy's agreed. Her husband was podded, too."

Barry nods. "Slow and steady," he says. It's been his mantra when it comes to dealing with the frustration that there isn't a single bad guy he can punch to make things better. "Let's save the world."

"Let's steal an alien ship," Len corrects him. "Stop making me sound heroic."

"Oh, no," Barry says, voice dry as dust. "Heroic? You? Never."

"Shut up."

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

"I don't want to sit this one out," Barry says stubbornly, but he's already given in, Mick can tell. More to the point, Mick can tell that Len can tell.

It's in the way Barry’s already started to make mac-and-cheese for the kids.

(They'd all been delighted to discover that certain farm-to-pre-made-food had been so automated that re-starting them was a cinch even after the apocalypse, but none more than the kids.)

"Uncle Barry!" Duckie shouts from the next room over. "We wanna piggy-back ride!"

"When the food is cooking," Barry automatically calls back, then scowls as he reveals his intention to be there in a few minutes. "Len, if you're sure -"

"You know we can do it without you," Len says reasonably. "And you know they're expecting you."

Barry sighs and nods. The aliens had immediately pegged Barry as the leader of the resistance once he had made its reappearance, presumably based on their snooping through old files, and they'd taken measures against him that Len was avidly noting down for future speedster problems (Barry seemed to attract future speedsters like flies, before - undoubtedly he would again; besides, what if he got around to having kids?)

The calculators behind the alien army, back on their homeworld, had made assumptions about Barry and Barry's inability to sit a mission he led out.

The calculators still had no conception of how to deal with Len. It helps to have all of your records eliminated, hard and soft copy both, so that the aliens look at you and see some asshole who got rung up on a single manslaughter count (murder in the heat of passion had been the final charge, and wasn't that hilarious?) who was assumed dead less than six months later.

They don't see Len.

And that's the way Len likes it, thank you very much.

Even without that well-timed deletion, though, Mick could've told them that none of them would ever have been enough to predict Len.

Mick has enough trouble doing it, even after all these years. That's why he only gets it then, and waits until they're in the car to actually bring it up.

The car, not the modified alien ship that even now patrols the skies of Central City.

"You think this is the one."

Len glances at him and smirks. "You always did know me best."

Mick nods. Normally, he'd leave it at that, willing to trust in Len, but maybe having two kids has made him a bit more open to actually talking about stuff out loud. "The reason this pod storage expects the Flash to hit it is 'cause that's where they've hidden his girlfriend."

"It was always too well guarded," Len murmurs. "I knew they had to have some valuable people there. It's not until a gap in their security opened up - a very specific gap, best exploited by a speedster - that I realized it was their idea of a trap. And to bait a trap..."

"Why not just fake us out?"

"Aliens," Len says. "Calculators for brain. They understand subtlety in attacking, sometimes, but not subterfuge. This trap is a step forward for them."

Mick nods. "Did you tell him?"

Len shakes his head. "I might be wrong," he offers.

"You don't think you are," Mick corrects. "You think Barry won't be able to resist the obvious trap."

Len shrugs, conceding it. Barry's been working with them for eight months, by now - long enough to celebrate the kids' fifth birthday with them as a much-beloved uncle - and Len usually trusts Barry to listen to the plan.

But, Mick supposes, this is Iris West. She always did make Barry irrational.

"You think maybe Cisco as well?"

Len is silent for a moment.

Mick glances at him sidelong.

"I don't have any reason to think so," he says slowly. "And yet - I hope he is. There haven't been any transfers out of this facility. But he'll be as hidden as Iris is prominent."

Mick nods. "Then we'll look twice as hard," he says, knowing they'll be working on a very limited time frame.

Len smirks. "Oh, you bet we will."

Mick thinks about the extra surprises he packed into his gear this time, the ones not even Len knows about, and wonders if today is the day he'll get to play with them.

Turns out it is.

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

"Oh, God, Iris!"

"Barry?" Iris gasps, her knees buckling, but Barry is there to catch her.

There's gasping and hugging and kissing.

Mick edges back.

Len studies the wall pointedly.

"Forgot how awkward these reunions are," Mick mutters to Len. They hate public displays of emotion.

"Don't remind me," Len says through gritted teeth. "Lisa's taking care of Cisco's, uh, reunion."

Mick snorts. "When's Ms. Levy dropping off the kids?"

"Soon enough. Figured Barry ought to be alone for this."

"Figured the kids didn't need to be getting the wrong idea about being all touchy feely, you mean."

"Or getting an advanced education in human reproduction. Besides, I was thinking we could have Cisco knock open the door to Earth-2, stat, before the aliens figure out how to stop us."

"Good plan."

"Told Lisa," Len says. "I figure they'll be opening the door pretty soon now."

There's a gasp from where Barry and Iris are intertwined.

Len and Mick look over.

Barry's sitting down, looking dazed, like Iris got in a good punch. More likely she said something, Mick supposes. Maybe she got a new boyfriend in the two and a half years he was gone before she also got disappeared?

It's been nearly four years since then, too. The staggered aging of the pod-freed humans and their free counterparts was one of the weirdest elements of the whole apocalypse.

"I'm so sorry," Barry says to Iris, who has sunk down next to him and is clutching his hand. No new boyfriend, then. "God, Iris - if I'd known - if I'd had any idea -"

"I didn't either," she tells him. "I had no clue until a month or two after you'd gone - and then - oh, Bear. I thought I'd lost you forever. I thought it was all I'd ever have of you."

"Of course," Barry says, wrapping his free hand around hers. "I'm so sorry I left you at all - if I'd been here -"

"If you'd been here, the aliens would've adjusted their plans to attack you first," Len says dryly.

They blink at him, clearly having forgotten anyone else was in the room.

Mick's just happy they decided to go with 'shocking revelations' instead of 'joyous reunion sex'.

"Cisco's free, too," Len tells the two of them. "We found him in a hidden chamber."

"Cisco," Iris breathes. "Oh, god, Cisco! Barry - that means he can go to Earth-2 -"

"He'll be able to get Joe and Wally and the others -"

One of Cisco's holes in reality open up in the middle of the room.

Mick hasn't seen them live before, but it's a welcome sight regardless, especially when Cisco and a second speedster stumble out first, quickly followed by Detective West and a handful of others: Killer Frost, a guy that looks like Harrison Wells, a girl dressed similarly enough to the speedsters for Mick to hope that they've now got three speedsters for the aliens to contend with.

He glances at Len, who's smirking his ass off in a way that signifies real pleasure and anticipation.

"You think..?"

"The aliens went for "em first deliberately," Len replies in an undertone, understanding Mick's unvoiced question. "Their calculators-for-brains know that the odds are against them if we've got the full set of speedsters."

Mick nods, pleased. It's well past time for the world to rid itself of the alien scourge so that they can go back to having regular communities and not having to depend on a group of radical net-neutrality activists to man the various ISPs in the area so that everyone else could cooperate using the Internet.

Joe goes straight for Iris and Barry, shouting their names.

Mick sighs.

More reunions. Great.

If only the house were big enough for them to leave...

There are tears. So many tears.

Barry keeps saying, "If I'd only known -" and getting shushed.

Eventually Len runs out of patience (thank god) and says, "As touching as this is, we're starting to get near capacity. Maybe we ought to stop with the hugging and get with the planning?"

"We're nowhere near capacity yet," Barry says. "We have at least room for -" A quick count. "- uh, okay, only ten more. But that’s still something!"

"Capacity?" Joe asks.

"The aliens attack places where humans cluster in too-large numbers," Barry explains. “Well, they try, anyway. It’s a reasonable precaution not to cluster too large.”

"So that's why Snart and his buddy are here," Joe says, nodding. "You're working together against the aliens."

Mick doesn't like how that implies that Barry would otherwise pick literally any group of people other than them if they weren't useful, but he supposes if you've not been around for the last few years, you couldn't be expected to understand. Communal living is the way people survive, now.

"Iris," Joe continues. "What about..?"

"I was captured by a pod," she says, her voice breaking. “I looked through all the pods when I was rescued – they weren’t there –”

Joe’s face is ashen, grieved.

“What were you looking for?” Mick asks.

“My babies,” she whispers, tears filling her eyes.

“You let Barry reproduce?” Len asks, sounding appalled.

Everyone glares at him.

“They might not be dead,” Mick offers into the silence. “Aliens usually ignore kids if they’re on their own – not a large enough heat signature – and there’ve been really good networks for recycling lost kids into the community.”

“Recycling’s not the word,” Barry says, correction made more out of habitual bickering than actual attempt to correct Mick. “But you think – there might be a chance?”

“It’s always possible,” Len says. “Even if we do track 'em down, though, will you recognize even 'em? It’s been three years, and babies grow fast.”

“I’m their mother.”

“Three years,” Len says implacably. “Kids. Trust me, I’ve got two of my own.”

“Who let you reproduce?” Joe asks with a bit of a sneer.

“They’re adopted,” Barry says quickly while Wally elbows Joe, likely more because of the way Len’s hand moved to sit on his gun. “And very happy. Good kids. Ms. Levy have them?”

“She’ll be dropping ‘em off soon.” Len tilts his head to the side a second before Mick hears the sound of the door opening. “Make that, dropping ‘em off now.”

“Abba!” Dawnie shouts. “Pa! We drew pictures today!”

Mick mentally canvasses how much fridge space they have left. They may need to start overlapping…

Dawnie and Duckie skitter into the room, big grins on their faces, sticky hands clenched around artwork made in crayon, and Mick watches in amusement as the amount of tension in the room relaxes as everyone smiles helplessly at the adorable kids.

Then it all goes to shit, because Dawnie’s smile fades into something nervous and wary and wanting and she stares at Iris and squeaks, “…Momma?”

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

It started, of course, with a lot of yelling in surprise and "holy crap!" and re-introductions and hugging.

Then, of course, came the recriminations.

"Why is my grandson think he's named after a duck?" Joe demands. He's a bit sore because the kids only had the vaguest recollections of their Paw-Paw.

"His name was Donald," Mick says defensively. The nickname had been his. "How were we supposed to know?"

"He was already nicknamed Don," Joe snaps. "Just like my dad."

"I'm amazed they didn't kill them," Wally mutters to girl speedster.

"You saying I hurt kids?" Len snarls at him. "Or just that I'm incompetent?"

"I didn't mean -"

"I bet."

"I'm just saying," Wally says, starting to get annoyed. "You're supervillains -"

"And you were gone, hero."

"That's not Wally's fault," Cisco exclaims.

"Oh, yeah, he's just saying – just like I'm just saying -"

"Why is everyone fighting?" Duckie asks in a small voice.

Mick puts his fingers to his mouth and whistles as loud as he can. Given that he's been using his whistles to silence entire stadiums, it's pretty effective in such a small space.

Everyone shuts up.

"It doesn't matter," Mick says. "We can fight about the details once the kids are asleep."

The Earth-2 people look at him like he kicked a puppy by admitting that they were going to keep fighting. Dawnie and Duckie (and, amusingly, Barry) all relax because this is something familiar. Len and Mick always schedule their fights for after the kids are asleep, explaining to the kids that it helped them get out their annoyance in a reasonable fashion; as a result, the kids have gotten used to thinking of fights that can be rescheduled as no big deal. No need to worry until you wake up in the morning - if the fight is still ongoing at that point, then you know it's serious.

"Let's go have dinner instead," Barry says. "We can talk over that."

"I can make Grandma West's noodles," Joe agrees.

"Not in my kitchen, you ain't," Mick says, because he's got a reputation as a kitchen tyrant to uphold. Neither Barry nor Len can cook, and if he gives an inch now, they'll be back to eating uncooked pasta. In the interests of avoiding another fight, though... "Maybe another time."

They all go to the kitchen. Mick ends up serving out a few cooked chickens he'd been freezing with plans to use over the next few weeks in different preparations, but chicken enchiladas are good for a crowd.

Most of the conversation is fixed on safe subjects, like goings-on on Earth-2 (alien free and a little boring, but for the gorillas) or the kids' achievements.

"They're even doing above their grade level in math," Barry boasts. He's selling the kids hard, but in fairness to Barry, he always does that. It doesn't feel personal.

"That part definitely came from Iris," Joe jokes. "I remember your math scores, Bear."

Mick personally thinks it came from the hours of tutoring Len put in with the kids, but - he reminds himself - they're trying not to fight.

"Kids, dishes or no dessert," he says.

The kids leap to their feet and start collecting plates. There's no dishwasher - or spare electricity to run one - so they'll be in the kitchen extra-long washing plates this time.

"Aww, let 'em have a day off," Wally says, winking at them. "Not every day they get their whole family back."

"If they don't wash the plates, they'll become unusable," Len says, pointedly ignoring Wally’s phrasing. "Humid climate like this, we'll get mold right quick. Rules are rules for a reason."

He waves the kids off.

"Strict," Joe comments. It doesn't sound like a compliment, though it doesn't necessarily sound like an insult, either. He chuckles, his mind clearly shifting directions. "Bet things'll be different when they go back home. Be careful not to give them culture shock, Iris."

"Home?" Len echoes. It's good he does, because Mick was going to speak and the wording wasn't going to be intelligible. "Not sure if your skills have deteriorated in the last few years, Detective, but they're home now."

"I just meant when they go home with Barry and Iris," Joe says.

He doesn't even mean anything by it, that's the most infuriating part of it; he just says it like it's a fact.

Mick sees red anyway.

"Now listen here, you little -" he starts, but Len's hand snaps out and catches Mick's wrist in an iron grip, signaling silence.

"Mick," Len says calmly. "Don't overreact."

"Overreact?”

"Yes. What's happened here is clear." He smirks. "Detective West has gone senile."

"I what?" Joe exclaims. “I have not –”

"You've lost your fucking mind," Mick says. "If you think anyone is taking the kids away from us."

"I just meant -"

"You'd think as an adopted father himself, he'd have more sympathy," Len says. "Unfortunately not."

"Excuse me if I don't want a pair of supervillains anywhere near my grandkids -," Joe says.

"They're our kids, asshole," Mick says.

"And we're grateful you took care of them for a bit while we were gone, but now Barry's here and Iris' here and I'm here, even Wally's here, and we're obviously more fit to raise them, that isn't even in question -"

"Dad, maybe we should wait -" Iris starts to say soothingly.

"No, Iris, I don't think this can wait. I don't see why there's even any debate about this. They're kids. They need a good, loving, stable and safe home environment, and we'll be able to provide that."

"And we won't?" Len says dangerously.

Joe snorts. "No offense meant, Snart, but you're hardly a good role model, and I can't imagine you know anything about raising kids to be anything other than a pack of criminals. Which isn't happening, in case I wasn't clear about that up front."

"Ain’t really your decision."

"No, it's Barry and Iris', as their parents," Joe says like he's speaking to an idiot. Barry and Iris look uncomfortable. "And they will obviously want to take Don and Dawn -"

"We're not going anywhere!" Dawnie yells from the doorway.

Mick immediately twists in his seat to look at them. Their faces are red and they're clearly upset, clutching at each other for comfort.

"We don't want to go away," Duckie adds, his lower lip trembling so hard he's nearly stuttering. "We wanna stay with Pa and Abba -"

"Don, my little guy," Joe says, standing and moving towards them, "you don't understand - you'll be going back to your Daddy and your Momma and your Paw-Paw -"

"We wanna stay with Pa and Abba," Dawnie says, starting to cry, Duckie right beside her. "We wanna stay! We don't wanna go with you! We hate you!"

Joe takes another step forward, clearly intent on convincing them. Mick gets up in his chair, equally intent on punching him in the face - Len is getting up, hand on his gun, face murderous -

"We're not going anywhere!" Dawnie says, and she grabs Duckie's hand and they turn -

There's a crackle of lightning and they're gone.

Everyone blinks.

"Barry!" Joe exclaims. "Bring them back this instant!"

"Uh," Barry says. "I didn't do that."

"Another speedster?" Cisco exclaims.

"I think," Iris says very carefully, "another two, actually."

"Whatever," Len says, clearly done with all of this; the revelation about the kids isn’t even making a dent in his rage. Mick sympathizes. "I don't care. Now stay down here while Mick and I go fix the damage you just did."

The kids are curled up in bed, just like they were taught to go when they’re angry.

Good.

Len and Mick spend three hours getting the now-vibrating-fast-enough-to-hurt children to calm down, explaining that they're not going to be taken away. Eventually, with the help of multiple assurances, a few more comfort animals than they're usually allowed, and a bedtime story or four, they fall asleep.

Then Len comes downstairs, Mick right beside him, and says "Barry, get Detective West the hell out of my house. Take him to Ms. Levy's place and tell them to send a signal to the next train transport - I want him out of Central City by the end of the week."

"You can't do that!" Joe shouts, whatever efforts to calm him swiftly evaporating. “Listen here, you little –”

"Joe," Barry interrupts. "You don’t understand. He can."

"What?"

"He's the head of the Rogues," Barry says. "They protect the city. If he says you're out, then you're out, and you're lucky to be out alive."

"You'd never let that happen."

"No, but - damnit, Joe, he's my boss now! And a good friend! His kids call me uncle!"

"Your kids, Bear, not his kids -"

"His kids! Their kids! Joe, they've raised them for three years; that's more than Iris and certainly more than me. They're the only parents Duckie and Dawnie remember. We're not taking them away."

"Iris -"

"I agree with Barry, Dad," Iris says. She shakes her head a little. "Dad, if Mom had shown up when I was ten or twelve and decided she was taking me away, I'd have thrown a fit about leaving you, and rightfully so. If we have a big fight about this, they're going to pick them, not us, and then next thing you know I'm not going to get to see them anymore and that's just not acceptable. I lost three years of their lives. I'm not missing another day."

Joe is silent, for once. He doesn't agree, Mick can tell that much from the way he's scowling, but he's silent. Good enough.

"West can stay," Mick says, and Len glances at him. "Kids ought to have a chance to know him. One chance. If he acts up in any way, I'll burn him."

He means it, too.

"Won't that be more traumatic?" Wally asks, crossing his arms.

"I'll say he was an alien spy masquerading as their grandpa," Mick shoots back. "They'll be cool with it."

Joe bristles, but Iris glares him silent.

"Let's at least try to make this work," Barry says.

He always was an optimist.

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

To say that this wasn't the life Iris was expecting is something of an understatement.

She'd planned a life with Barry by her side having adventures as a journalist, maybe a kid or two down the line to be taken care of at home. Maybe by her, maybe by Barry, maybe by Joe if he'd retired - maybe even with a nice babysitter helping them out.

Then Barry went away into the Speed Force - for good, she'd thought - and she was pregnant and then she had a new life in front of her: single motherhood, with help from Dad and Wally and her friends, of the two most amazing (and infuriating) babies of all time.

And then the aliens came for them, and her support system disappeared, and she'd thought of herself as a grim Sarah Conner, the prototypical mother figure, determined to survive and to keep her children alive until they could push the aliens back.

Then - nothing.

The sleep of the pod was like sleeping in bed, deep and dreamless as far as she recalls. Like a coma, maybe. Like Barry's descriptions of his own coma, at least.

And now -

Now, Iris has a life with Barry by her side having adventures as the captain of her own alien warship, and she still hopes to have a kid or two down the line to take care of at home when the aliens are gone. But she's also a part-time Momma to the two best kid-speedsters in the world - Cisco calls them the Tornado Twins - and she co-parents them with Barry and his supervillains.

One of whom is the widely acknowledged commander-in-chief of the United States, leader of the real fight against the aliens and to whose offshoot Rogue branches the armed forces have swarmed to pledge their allegiance - not that he knows it, since Mick still refuses to tell Len that the people he's commanding aren't just surprisingly competent criminals - and the other one is the guy who makes sure said commander remains functional. Iris wouldn't have believed that Len thinks ketchup is a legitimate vegetable if she hadn't walked into that argument herself, but she did, so she guesses that if Len has inadvertently become leader of the free world, that makes Mick his First Arsonist or something, and they're all very lucky to have him, too.

They all live together, with Barry and Iris having one master bedroom and Len and Mick sharing the other, and the kids have the entire downstairs to run around in. The downstairs is a disaster zone as a result, of course.

It's okay; Iris spends quite a bit of her time captaining the newly dubbed (by utterly unanimous agreement) Enterprise and supporting Barry from the air. It's awesome.

Wally's slipped happily into the role of Kid Flash and cool uncle, and even Joe has come around.

It's not the life she imagined, but it's a good life. She likes this life.

She leans back in her captain's chair. "Show them in," she orders, and watches as a handful of strange-looking aliens and one human, all dressed in shiny green suits, walk in. Iris smiles. "Welcome to the Enterprise, representatives of - how did you call it - the Green Lantern Corps. Let's talk about what exactly it is you think you can do for Earth - and whether we're going to agree to any of it."

#dccoldwave #westallen #leonard snart #mick rory #barry allen #iris west #my fic

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

What do you think would happen if, through Shenanigans (TM) (so, I dunno. Magic? 5th dimension imps? Phlebotonium?), the Flash and Supergirl "counterparts" ended up swapping powers? (I'm assuming that, in this scenario, if X's counterpart has no powers but X does normally have powers, I guess this would result in X losing their powers.) (I don't know why I'm thinking about this when I should be studying for a quiz, whoops.)

(First and foremost: may your quiz-studying go well, friend.)

But right, yes. This...this would be insane. Fun insanity, of course, but goodness. The chaos.

Does Joe get Martian powers? Joe probably gets Martian powers. And is promptly weirded out by everyone’s thoughts. The poor man.

He’s also having a hard time with ‘fifth dimensional imp.’

“That sounds fake. Does anyone else think that sounds really fake? I can’t be the only one thinkin’ that.”

“...Apparently I am not the only one thinkin’ that, okay.”

Meanwhile, J’onn is enjoying a little mental peace and quiet.

And Barry’s like...hovering a good six inches off the ground, generally failing miserably at keeping his gamut of powers under control, and Kara’s not helpful. ‘How do you stop this’ ‘I dunno you just...do?’

There’s a Peter Pan ‘happy thoughts’ joke in there somewhere, I think. Cisco probably makes it.

Oh, and Cisco and Winn are ABSOLUTELY taking advantage of this opportunity to swap superhero costume notes, because Cisco shows Winn the Vibe glasses, and Winn is like, dude, and Cisco is like, I know dude. 

And Winn probably tries out his powers and breaks something. ...Yes. Yes, that definitely happens.

Alex has that whole, ‘early stages of Killer Frost’ thing going on--white hair, pale skin, etc. Kara wraps her up in her cape.

“I’m not cold, Kara.”

“But you LOOK cold.”

Caitlin feels so bad, guys. She keeps checking in, asking Alex if she needs anything, does she feel a sudden urge to go on a murderous rampage, that sort of thing.

And Alex is like, ‘not yet I’ll keep you posted now can you show me how these powers work also Kara help me take samples this is so cool.’

Ha, cool.

Wally, Jesse, and Kara absolutely have a race.

(Kara loses because Barry’s speed is a little different from her speed and also the LIGHTNING BOLTS are very distracting.)

(Also she’s not liking this ‘susceptible to friction’ thing it is very inconvenient and Barry how do you PUT UP with this nonsense*)

(*Nonsense here meaning: clothing catches fire AND, without invulnerability, fire smarts, guys.)

Anyways, Barry’s like, ‘IDK Kara same way you put up with crushing everything you touch.’

“Touché, Barry Allen, touché.”

(All in good fun friends, all in good fun. Nothing in the multiverse break the special bond of the superbros.)

And then Barry gets serious about figuring out the flying thing because he wants to take Iris for a romantic flight or something, and Kara, sap that she is, is like: I will teach you everything I know. 

“Shouldn’t we focus on finding Mxy and fixing this?”

“Later, later.”

And last but not least: There are no powers to swap, but James and Iris will not be left out of these shenanigans, so there’s a new vigilante in town (briefly) and Iris can neither confirm nor deny taking up James’ offer to borrow some Guardian tech for a bit.

James: “The shield’s pretty fun, right?”

Iris: “...Okay yeah, the shield’s pretty fun.”

#stranger replies #stranger writes #supergirl fic #kind of #more like #supergirl headcanons #the flash #crossover #long post #ish #Anonymous

[kpopreactionstoruinyourlife]

Song Girl - Part 10 - Sungjin Fan Fiction

Song Girl Masterlist

Part 10 - January 2014 

Summary: Sungjin’s Birthday

Ella triple checked the recipe on her phone as she navigated the aisles of the grocery store. She was going to make him a cake. When she’d gone with him to a party at Got7’s dorm to celebrate their debut, he said he wanted a homemade cake while she wiped frosting off his nose. She also saw Got7 and might have freaked out, until Jae got a band and flicked her in the back of her head. She was supposed to be their fan first and foremost.

Twenty-one was a much bigger deal in the US. Instead of a wild night like what would have been expected in the US, Sungjin had requested a small party in their dorm. Approximately 20-25 people. That’s how many she had to make a cake for.

Thankfully Sungjin was letting her use their kitchen to do it. She didn’t trust herself to get a cake safely over the few miles between their homes. He was going to pick her up in one hour but she had to have everything.

Meanwhile, Sungjin was in his apartment. He had been helping clean up the apartment but then his parents called and he stepped out.

“Happy birthday sweetheart,” His mom said when he picked up. He smiled as sat on the stairs in the hall.

“Thanks mom, how are you doing?”

“Oh we’re good dear, just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Give us a call this weekend and we can both chat.”

“Sounds like a plan, and mom, there’s something I want to tell you.”

“Oh, is everything ok?”

“Yeah, it’s going well, training is progressing. I think they’re done trying to make me dance though.”

“Oh, interesting, What did you want to tell me?”

“I’m seeing someone.” He said, his heartbeat filling his ears.

“You sound happy.”

“I am.”

“That’s good, I’m happy for you. What’s she like?”

“She’s brilliant. There’s not really another word for her. She’s pretty, smart, luminescent, kind…”

“Is she another trainee?”

“No, she’s a grad student.”

“Is she older than you then?”

“No, she’s a few months younger than me. She graduated high school and college early.”

“Oh she really is smart.”

“She’s bilingual, too. But that’s just because she’s from the US.”

“Is she Korean?”

“Korean American.”

“Wow. I’m happy you’re happy.” She said and he smiled. He knew she was just trying to adjust.

“I think you’d like her.”

“I just hope she’s better than the last one.”

“She is, I think I could be falling in love.”

“We’ll have to have a long conversation this weekend.” “I promise.”

“Ok, enjoy your party. I love you.” She said and he smiled, saying his goodbyes before heading back into the apartment.

He left when it was time to pick up Ella. She greeted him with a passionate kiss, jumping into his arms and wrapping her legs around his hips. His favorite happy birthday.

He kissed her with a smile on his lips, unable to stop his grin.

“Did you know it takes a lot of ingredients to make a cake for twenty people?” She said when they pulled apart.

“Nope, did you need me to carry stuff?” He asked as he watched her weave through her apartment.

“Yeah, just gimme a minute. Do you have an apron in your dorm?”

“No,” He said and she sighed and headed into her kitchen while putting a sweater on over her long sleeve shirt.

“Seoul is much colder than I thought.” She said as she grabbed an apron and folded it into a bag.

“True.”

“Do you have a naked apron fantasy?” She asked, moving through her apartment.

“Huh?”

“A fantasy about your girlfriend or whoever greeting you when you come home wearing nothing but an apron, ready to cater toward your every desire.” She said waving her hand over her shoulder as she checked through her bags to make sure she had everything, including the dress and tights she’d change into - she was only in the sweater and leggings for fear of flour.

“Now I might,” He said picking up some of the bags. She winked at him and laughed.

“Let’s wait until we have sex first.” She said as she pulled on a coat and scarf and gloves and lined booties.

“Is that my present?” He asked, a playful spark in his eyes.

“We’re getting there.” She said patting his chest.

With her last boyfriend, she’d had sex with and lost her virginity just after they were together for two months. She wanted to move a bit slower with Sungjin, even if they might have already done almost everything besides sex.

“Since you liked my cookies I also brought stuff to make a batch, too.” She said as they loaded the groceries into his car.

“You’re going to make me fat.” He said and she laughed.

“A Scottish comedian says girls should make their guys a little tubby so other girls won’t be interested.” She said jumping into his warmer car.

“Oh yeah? You don’t have to worry about that.” He said taking her hand as he drove.

“What do you mean?” She asked turning to him with large eyes.

“I don’t really pay too much attention to girls.”

“You’re also either training, running, with me, or sleeping.” She said fighting a smile.

“Why must you tease me about the running?” He asked but he was smiling.

“I don’t know, but you can run to me in the mornings and I’ll make you coffee.” She said and he squeezed her hand.

“It’s too cold to run outside these days. I use a treadmill at the gym in the JYP building.”

“There’s a gym?” “There’s many things. I wish you could see.”

“I prefer getting serenaded in my apartment, intimately.” “Why do I feel like you’re imagining me with nothing but a guitar in front of my dick?”

“Now I am.” She said, a bright glint in her eye.

“Are you sure I’m the perv?” “I’m pervy too, it’s fine.” She said as they pulled up on the street.

“You are?” He said and she smiled before jumping out of the car and grabbing half the bags.

“There she is, hey, I thought you were bringing sugar?” Jae said, beginning elatedly and ending deflatedly.

“I am making it here.” She said putting the bags on the counter but taking her change of clothes into Sungjin’s room and leaving them on his bed.

“Just clean up when you’re done, we already make enough of a mess ourselves.” Jae said before heading into his room with his guitar. Junhyeok and Wonpil were at vocal training while Brian was at university. Sungjin started music while Ella laid out the ingredients. She worked while he talked, and when Jae yelled, they avoided a flour fight.

Two hours later, they had the cookies and cake done, they just had to decorate the cake. By then Brian had come home and was studying in the living room, watching Sungjin and Ella and occasionally shaking his head.

Another forty-five minutes and the cake was decorated and only slightly sad looking, which was a miracle given that Ella was not a baker despite watching the Great British Bake Off a hundred times.

Taking off the apron, she smiled at Sungjin, equally happy all the food turned out well and that she had avoided getting flour on her face since she’d already done her makeup.

“We still have an hour.” Sungjin said with a smirk from one of their dining table chairs.

“I’ll still have to change.” She said and he smiled, pulling her toward him.

“Can I open your gift early?” He asked and she put on a contemplative look.

“I don’t know…” She said trailing off.

“Please?” He asked with big, bright eyes.

“Can we go into your room?” She asked and he nodded, looking over his shoulder where Brian was “studying.”

“Probably best.”

“Yeah,”

“Do you want me to put a sock on it for you?” Brian asked as they approached the door.

“No.” Ella said firmly while he had a big, teasing grin.

Sungjin gave him a pointed look as they went into the room.

“So what do I get?” He asked and she smiled, pulling out a box before sitting next to him on his bed

He beamed at the box and opened it purposefully.

She’d given him a mixtape herself this time, more money for his guitar, a t-shirt she knew he wanted, and at the bottom a certificate.

“What’s this?” He asked while he scanned the paper.

“Amanda won a prize drawing from her school so she got a long weekend on the second weekend in February and it’s for four people. She’s bringing a friend from work but since it’s two rooms, she offered the second room to us. I know it’s so last minute so if you can’t go…”

“El, Amanda told me about it when she won it.”

“She did?” Ella said furrowing her brow.

“Yeah, as her christmas gift to me.”

“I didn’t know she gave you one.”

“It was really to both of us.”

“Oh, so you have the time off then?”

“Yep, already arranged it. But I really am going to have to take training really seriously after taking two days off.”

“That’s fine, just let me know how things work out.” She said waving a hand.

“Thank you, El.” He said, moving the box and taking her hands in his.

That mischievous glint flashed in her eye as she leaned into his ear. “I have a couple more plans for later, too.” She whispered. A corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Should I put a sock on the door then?” He asked, his hands finding her waist and guiding her back on his bed.

“Amazingly enough, I’m not even going to take my shirt off.” She said as her arms slipped around his neck and he moved on top of her, smirking.

“Yes you are, you have to change.” He said before leaning in and kissing her. She laughed as her legs tangled with his and their tongues mingled. Slowly, his hands glided over her body to the buttons of her shirt.

“Sungjin…” She’d meant to scold him, sharp, but his name came out in a moan. His warm chuckle moved through their tangled bodies.

“I’m just helping…” He murmured as his fingers found her top buttons, quickly undoing them. His lips pressed into her neck; she bit hers to keep from moaning.

“Hmm…” She gave a muffled gasp when her last buttons came undone and his rough, hot hands run over her skin before closing around her bra-covered breast. On top of her, he smirked as his lips made trails over her decalage and collarbones. He could feel her heart’s erratic, racing beat.

When his lips returned to hers, she kissed him hungrily, desperately. She wanted her fill of him, she wanted as much of him as possible, as fast as possible. But she knew no matter how deeply, passionately they kissed, it wouldn’t be enough.

When  they only had about ten minutes before his party was due to start, they slowly moved toward disentangling themselves from each other with more mangled hair and swollen, pink lips.

“Sun-Shit!” The door opened and Wonpil’s voice rose about two octaves from his first syllable to his last.

“What the fuck?” Sungjin said, moving his body so El could get out from under him and cover herself without exposing herself anymore to Wonpil.

“I didn’t know!” Wonpil screeched. He was beat red and flustered.

“Get out, idiot!” Sungjin said, his eyes big and wild.

“Right, sorry!” He said and the door slammed shut.

Sungjin cursed and turned to Ella. “Sorry.”

Sure she was embarrassed but in terms of the members that could have seen her exposed like that, better it be Wonpil than Junhyeok. “It’s fine.” She said sitting up and reaching for her dress.

“I didn’t want him to see you like that.” Sungjin said, his eyes still fixed on the door that Wonpil had dived out of with his cheeks flaming red.

“It’s really fine.” She said, taking off her shirt and wiggling out of her leggings before she got up and put on the black floral dress. She pulled on a pair of black over the knee socks and a cream sweater, too.

She turned to him but he spoke before she could. “You look very good.” He said smiling before he turned his attention to straightening the bed.

“Thanks, but do you have a mirror?” She asked, and he handed her a portable one. She examined her makeup and deemed herself to look good.

“Also, Got7 is going to be here, don’t be weird.” Sungjin said as she folded up her old clothes.

“Why would I be weird?” She asked but her voice was unnaturally high.

“They’re lucky to debut.” Sungjin sighed. He was coming up on being in training for four years in a few months.

“Wasn’t JB a trainee before you?” She said sitting on his lap and encircling her arms around him.

“Don’t use their stage names. It’s still weird. But yeah, both he and Jinyoung were trainees in 2009, a year before me. Mark and I started the same year in 2010, BamBam came shortly thereafter. Jackson came in 2011, the same year Yuggie was recruited. Youngjae only came in a few months ago.”

“Oh,” She bet Sungjin wasn’t thrilled that a guy who’d basically come out of nowhere was debuting after only a few months.

“I know you’ll debut.” She whispered, kissing his cheek.

“Eventually…” He sighed, squeezing her waist. He smiled, looking up at her. She returned his smile and he saw her assurance in her eyes.

“It’s time to party.” He said guiding her up and out the door. Wonpil was standing by the door with flaming cheeks.

“Sorry.” He said, not meeting her eyes or Sungjin’s.

“Why don’t we all just move on from this?” Ella offered, standing between them.

“Sounds good.” Wonpil said before going into the room and closing the door.

“Has he seen a girl without a shirt on before?” Ella asked, looking at Sungjin who just shrugged. Before they get into another discussion about the moment, Jae came in ladden with bags of chicken. Distracted by food, they dug in as people arrived to the dorm. The members of Got7 were the last to come in.

“Are you going to be weird?” Sungjin whispered to Ella while Jaebum approached them through the people.

“I won’t suggest scanning their brain.”

“Probably a good move.”

“I was already a fan girl before I met you, you know.”

“I know. I’ve seen your EXO poster in your closet.”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now.” She hissed just before Jaebum reached them, shaking Sungjin’s hand and clapping his shoulder.

“Happy birthday man,” He said sincerely while Ella watched, a piece of chicken suspended between her plate and her mouth.

“Thanks, I’m glad you could make it.” Sungjin said with a big smile.

“It’s nice to get away from the craziness once in a while.” Jaebum said, completely focused on Sungjin. Meanwhile, Sungjin’s hand found Ella’s waist, hot. He hadn’t said it but Ella knew - he was jealous. As much as he was happy the Jaebum got to debut, he was jealous that he’d been given that chance not only once but twice.

Finally, Jaebum’s eyes travelled to Ella and he smiled.

“You must be the girl,” He said in his low and monotone voice.

“I have a name.” Ella said, her tongue taking a moment to struggle with the words. “I’m Ella, it’s nice to meet you. Congratulations on debuting.” She said holding out her hand to shake his while he bowed. She silently cursed. They shook hands and bowed at the same while both Jae and Sungjin held in laughs.

“Sorry…” Jaebum said, blushing.

“No, I am…Sorry.” She said, stepping closer to Sungjin.

“You got off easy, she suggested I get my brain scanned when we met.” Sungjin said and Jaebum stared at her.

“I’m a psychology student, my friends have access to MRIs, fMRIs, EEGs, and I’ll stop talking now.”

Sungjin caught himself smiling. It’d been a while since she’d gotten nervous and babbly around him.

“How did you meet then?” He asked.

“Very simple, I am the best cupid that ever lived.” Jae said proudly.

“Oh, interesting.” Jaebum said smiling at them.

“Aren’t they good together?” Jackson called loudly, heading over with Jimin and Mark.

“Yes, they are.” Jaebum said turning back to the approaching people. Mark introduced himself and they wished Sungjin a happy birthday.

Ella looked at Sungjin while they talked around them, his hand stayed on the small of her back or her waist. She knew she was a better version of herself with him.

Two months together and she looked at him and felt nothing but love. The last time she labeled a feeling love was so different; anxious, frenzied, desperate, a push and pull, maddening. Sungjin wasn’t detached like Charlie, or manipulative or clueless. She read him as easily as she could her favorite, well-worn book. Where Charlie had been brief or fleeting in his love or warmth, she could feel Sungjin’s warmth nearly all the time, it only fading in flashing moments of strong anxiety. Somehow he could center her and she him.

This love…was better. Her heart bloomed with warmth upon getting a text from him, hearing his voice or seeing him. It felt gloriously too big in her chest without the pain, only warmth and a glow. Somehow, she felt like her best self with him and like she was capable of changing everything she disliked about herself. She felt both accepted in who she was and like she could be more. She wanted to give him the same feeling.

This was what everyone wanted, this kind of love.

That night, they returned to her apartment alone. Sungjin was barely buzzed and Ella was again tipsy. They tumbled into her apartment kissing clumsily, hungrily. They had been mildly torturing each other throughout the later part of the evening. After a couple shots of Soju, keeping the younger attendees away from the alcohol, Ella’s hand moved to Sungjin’s body. First it just pressed into his back, then glided over it back and forth before slipping underneath where her fingers swirled over his burning skin, starting to travel lower and lower. Sungjin, for his part, dropped his hand into the miniscule space between their legs on their couch, his fingers rubbing against her outer thigh. His fingers slipped under the skirt, barely. It was small, but enough to awaken a desperate desire, hunger.

“I know you want to shower, go ahead, I’ll go second.” Sungjin said as he stepped back. He knew her habits; if she didn’t shower before they began their night’s activities, she’d leave the bed to do it as soon as she was done; he wanted her to stay. She nodded and slipped into the bathroom, trying to quell the sparks in her body with hot water and habits.

He tried to determine if it had been presumptuous to bring a condom.

While he showered, Ella picked up and turned off most of the lights. Some things were easier in the dark. She wore his white and blue flannel with a black bra and underwear. She’d never been the kind of girl to wear hot pink lingerie, or red, her bras were all in shades of white, nude, black, and pink.

“Hey Sungjin,” She said approaching the closed bathroom door.

“Yeah?” He called from the other side as the shower shut off.

“Can I pull up some music from your phone?” She asked through the door, hearing him move to get a towel and dry off.

“Yeah, just give me a sec.” He said. A moment later, he opened the door and steam swept out. She sucked in a breath. His normally pale skin was flushed from the hot water, droplets falling from his dark bangs. He held out the phone but El was frozen, a blush sweeping over her body. A towel was slung loosely around his hips, gripped in his fist.

She wanted to jump him. But she worried that if she did, he’d think she wanted sex, which she did but she didn’t. She wanted to savor every moment of their relationship’s progression. And she wanted him to know her body better than she did before she had sex with him; she hadn’t been like that with her first time, she’d wanted it to be over with. She’d had sex with him a few times, but it probably only felt good for a solid minute in total; most of the time she’d been in intense pain and willed it to be over. She’d never really enjoyed sex, at least not with Charlie, and she wanted that to be different with Sungjin. She wanted to have good sex, enjoy sex, but wasn’t sure if she could.

That was the only thing she was actively keeping from him. She decided to wait, at least until the next day. Really she just wanted each of them to have an orgasm and fall asleep together.

“My shirt?” He asked, jolting her and bringing her attention to him.

“Yes, I feel sexy like this.” She said slipping the phone from his fingers.

“You are,” He said with a smirk while he stepped back into the steamy bathroom to finish his routine.

“I don’t think I want to have sex tonight.” She whispered staring at him.

“Did you find the condom I brought?” He asked and she chuckled.

“No, I just…want to wait a little longer.” She said and he nodded. “That’s fine.”

Part of her prayed it was actually fine. Charlie had said it was fine, too, when she struggled to meet his needs and desires through her pain and underperformed, sometimes sobbed afterwards. Nearly every part of her believed Sungjin and Charlie were very different, but some part didn’t. And that part was enough to keep her worrying.

She imagined she had a psychological block about sex, but she had never talked to a professional about it. She willed herself, when she allowed herself to go to that darker place, to count the evidence that things would be different with Sungjin.

She was much more attracted to Sungjin; she felt charged with him. A kiss on her neck from him could make her pool. She didn’t click out, suddenly getting turned off, like she had before. Ok, that did happen, but only for two minutes after an orgasm and then she was ready again.

He actively and obviously cared about her enjoyment, much more than Charlie had. If she gasped sharply in response to his actions, he backed off and gauged her reaction further to determine if it from pain or pleasure. He responded to her requests, her moans, suggestions, and reactions all the time. She could masturbate to the idea of sex with Sungjin.

If she stacked these reasons and rationalizations up, she’d be able to get over her block about sex.

They tumbled into bed again, and her worries slipped away. His skin against hers burned and she knew she was safe with him, just maybe not safe in her own head in her weakest, darkest, moments.

#song girl #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfic #sungjin #park sungjin #day6 #sungjin fan fiction #sungjin fan fic #sungjin fanfic #day6 fan fiction #day6 fan fic #day6 fanfic #sungjin scenario #scenario #sungjin reaction #day6 scenario #day6 reaction #reaction

[darkwarmerworld-blog]

Blog post Canada

Today you're certain a special treat. i have been fortunate to attach with Ryan Van Austen from Hockey Canada. Ryan is that the Strength and Conditioning Coach for the National women's team also because the conditioning coordinator for the National Luge team. Needless to mention 2010 has been an exciting and busy time for Ryan. Read on as Ryan shares with us a touch bit about his background to bring him to where he's , his training philosophies, with specific emphasis on hockey, what working for the National Team has been like also as his dream team of practitioners and therefore the best resources he has found to permit him to possess had success together with his athletes. So sit back and luxuriate in a 1 on one with Ryan Van Austen. Background Chris Collins - Where did you attend school? What made you would like to try to to this for a living? What was your sports background? Who were a number of your mentors along the way? What are a number of the interesting places you've worked? Ryan Van Asten - Master of Science (Exercise and Health Physiology) - University of Calgary - Bachelor of Science (Honours) (Subject of Specialization - Life Sciences) - Queen's University, Kingston Ontario - Bachelor of Physical and Health Education - Queen's University, Kingston Ontario - Certifications: CSCS (NSCA), Certified Exercise Physiologist (CSEP), NCCP Level 1 Olympic Weightlifting, FMS Certified My sports background was varied as a toddler (i.e. hockey, soccer, lacrosse, baseball, alpine skiing, water skiing, wake boarding, etc.) but specialized in Hockey and Lacrosse as an adolescent . Eventually, just focusing on hockey I played Provincial Jr. A in Ontario, 4 years collegiate (Queen's University), 1 year semi-professional in Germany - retiring at age 24 to peruse my graduate degree in Calgary. As a results of my sports background, dry-land training was always a neighborhood of my life and that i loved every second of the training. While at Queen's University i used to be fortunate enough to figure with and play hockey with Anthony Slater (now a serious a part of a corporation called Athletes' Performance within the United States). Anthony (although young himself at the time) put me on a educational program one summer and therefore the results were astonishing because for the primary time in my life i used to be on a per iodized program that wasn't centered around bench press. then i used to be hooked and couldn't get a hold of enough information on training - i used to be digesting the things love it was my job...one problem: it wasn't. At the time i used to be just finishing my Bachelor of Science degree and wasn't sure which direction to travel ...this had all changed by that time , I needed to figure in sports performance. therefore the following year I enrolled within the Bachelor of Physical and Health Education program at Queen's to bring me closer to my goals. it had been in 'Phys Ed' where I met David Frost (a engineer who also had a passion for training and bio mechanics). Dave was an enormous guy who loved to coach and knew a hell of tons more about just about everything than I did - so I spent time with him tons and since we were the old guys during a class filled with 18 and 19 year olds we clicked directly . Training with Dave brought my strength to a good greater level, however, it had been not necessarily do to the physiological aspects anymore - Dave was skilled at breaking down and assessing bio mechanics and he tweaked just about everything I did and my strength went through the roof. this is often once I realized that it's not about the exercise or the exercise selection; it's about the coaching and therefore the implementation of the exercise in an appropriate manner that are the important factors. Evidently, today Dave is finishing his PhD at the University of Waterloo where he's mentored by Stuart McGill (now famous within the realm of strength and conditioning). My first two mentors (and still be to the present day) in strength and conditioning were Anthony Slater and David Frost. I then moved to Calgary and commenced my graduate research - working under Dr. Smith and Dr. Stephen Norris (two of the foremost prominent exercise and sport physiologists within the world) my knowledge expanded even further. i used to be also fortunate enough to urge exposure to excellent Strength and Conditioning coaches at the Canadian Sport Centro - Calgary (I am one among them now...ha)(Matt Jordan, Scott Maw, Mac Read, and Matt Price) - These are guys who have training numerous Olympic and World champions in both summer and winter sports and that i have learned tons from all of them and still learn from them on a day to day. Read more.... Source: Blog post Canada

[mredwinsmith]

Potlatch 28 Awards: The Legend of Hriar

As I sat down to make up the official Potlatch awards, I found that there was more to say than which teams won some made-up awards (not that there’s anything wrong with that). Don’t worry, there are still plenty of juicy award absurdities below.

But, first and foremost, I want to apologize. This was not my best Potlatch. I didn’t deliver to a standard that I believe Potlatch and you all deserve. There were plenty of times that I was at peak Potlatch form, but overall, my heart was not in it the same way. I felt it showed. There were several factors which led to this:

In February, I broke my leg. I got three screws put into in my ankle, meaning I would not get to play the sport I love with the community I love for some time. When I first helped run Potlatch in 2014, I was injured, and still had the time of my life. This time was different, and it hit a lot harder. I found myself sad throughout the preparation, doubting my self-worth, and questioning my reasons for giving. While there is no other place I would be on Potlatch weekend, being injured made me question that because I wouldn’t get to fully participate.

Emotional turmoil over the impending changes to Potlatch. Potlatch is a project that I’ve put a lot of time into over the years. With any project that you love, change is a hard pill to swallow, especially if that change comes to head to head with aspects that you’ve personally put time into. The TDs have been discussing certain changes for a while now (like changing the name of Potlatch to be more culturally sensitive), and trying to come up with potential solutions. As much as I didn’t want to change things initially, it is absolutely the right thing to do. For those who don’t know, Potlatch is a Native American term for a gift giving celebration. While the spirit of what we do is there, the original meaning of this tournament and how it relates to the Native term has been lost over the last 28 years. This is something DiscNW and the TDs have taken very seriously, and that is why we brought it up in the bid submission process and at the captains meeting. Nothing official has been determined, and the conversations are still ongoing. but we all should prepare for a world where this tournament will have a different name.

It was incredibly tough to work through these (and other) issues all at the same time, and still try to ensure everyone else’s Potlatch was fantastic. Importantly, whenever I was down, the ultimate community was there for me. I was constantly showered in love and affection from members of the ultimate community with simple acts like giving hugs to grander gestures like gifts of hats, jerseys, and even a lucky egg. You all helped lift me back up when I was down. For this, I am grateful. You are all the reason I volunteer for this, you all inspire me to be make this tournament even better. Ultimate community, I love you.

The Legend of Hrair

Lastly, I learned an important lesson this Potlatch from an experience I call the Legend of Hrair “Her-Eye.” I came across an interesting fellow on Night Zero of Potlatch who stood out among all the random ultimate players. There he was, a short, out of shape, hobbit looking guy, with long curly hair, glasses and a Newsies cap. He almost floated around the party. I was fascinated as he walked over in the middle of a rage cage game, and started stacking cups. I knew I had to meet this human, and find out how he discovered Potlatch. I walked over to him and asked him how his night was going. He immediately went into a long rant about how he was having an identity crisis between being a normal person and an artist. Just as I thought, this guy was as odd as I had assumed, didn’t know anyone at the event, and wasn’t signed up to participate at Potlatch. But, seeing as he was harmlessly participating in the celebration, I was curious to see what role he would play.

The next night, as I stumbled to my last campsite gathering to play rage cage before I went to bed, there was the half-man, half-artist hobbit in all his glory. I knew all the other members at the game table, and we all had the same look on our face. “Who the hell is this guy? And what the hell is he doing here?”

I positioned myself next to Hrair, and asked him how his artistry crisis was going. He gave me a similar rant as the evening before, and proceeded to ask the table if we wanted to have a real talk. He asked if we wanted to know the twelve reasons he was upset his wife was leaving him. Things had just gotten very real, but the campsite host decided to step in and escort Hrair away.

Hrair clearly had several issues he was working out. He had somehow made his way to Potlatch, and chose it as an appropriate location to work through those issues. I heard he made an appearance at the same campsite the next night, and was asked again to leave, this time with a little more force and anger. I understand why that happened. There was a big unknown factor here on what this stranger was capable of if he snapped. But if anything, accepting all people is what makes the ultimate community so special, and Hrair should not have been an exception.

On day three of Potlatch, during one of my golf cart drives, I found Hrair posted up in the northwest corner by some tents, with an easel, a canvas and a sign next him with “Weird Freaky Art” written on it. I asked him what he was doing. He explained to me how he had been working on this painting all weekend.

I took a closer look at the canvas. On it was an incredible oil landscape painting that perfectly captured the scene of Potlatch. The fields, teams playing, children playing, spirit games, tents, honey buckets, the trees, the houses on the hills, even the shadows from the trees behind him. This was a magnificent piece of art that perfectly conveys what Potlatch is, and it was through the perspective of a stranger.

My mind was blown. I finally asked Hrair how he had discovered Potlatch. He explained how after volunteering in the neighborhood, he had pulled over in this parking lot to pray and reflect on his life. That is when all these people started showing up, and they kept on coming. Rather than run away, he embraced this unknown group, to see what he could learn about himself. I marveled at this tale, and then went on to share what Potlatch is and what it means to the ultimate community. How we all come from all over the world to Redmond, WA to share memories, good times, and gifts with our friends. I told him a little about my story and role as one of the tournament organizers, and how much seeing his art meant to me. Hrair then turned to me and exclaimed, “I want you to have my painting.”

I was dumbfounded yet again. I told him I couldn’t possibly take this, but he insisted, stating, “You all accepted me as one of your own this weekend.” He went on to share how by expressing himself this way, it was helping him work through his troubles, and gave him more of a meaning. “If this is an event about gift giving, then this is my gift to you.” With tears in my eyes, I hugged Hrair. This is the greatest gift I have ever received at Potlatch, and it came from someone who I originally thought shouldn’t be there.

I learned a very valuable lesson from Hrair. We all have struggles to work out in life, like overcoming an injury, losing loved ones, or confronting a big change. Potlatch is all about embracing your community, being inspired to create something spectacular, and showing your love through giving a gift. Whatever the future holds for this tournament, I hope that those ideals and values are preserved.

Thank you’s!

And now a moment for the true heroes of Potlatch, the tournament directors. Rusty, it was a pleasure to watch you step up in many ways this year, especially as a leader. These may have been the best match ups and brackets I have ever seen. I especially enjoyed how you could attend the party for the first time in 8 years.

Kate, you are the queen of communication. You rose to the occasion time and time again, and helped make some incredibly positive changes. Plus, you were a great Loreli from Gilmore Girls!

Mel, this was my first chance getting to work with you, and I was impressed. I enjoyed your sense of humor that you seamlessly tied into your community interactions. I believe you will do great things as the new Executive Director of DiscNW.

Kong, you are the string that holds Potlatch together. Thank you very much for all you have done during these past 11 years. I hope we are all lucky to have you stick around for 11 more.

Finally, Kat, when I was down, you inspired me to do something special. Thank you for helping drive our social media campaign, and making my dreams a reality. It was your work that kept me involved during all the times I wanted to walk away. Thank you all for helping me remember what it I bring to Potlatch.

And now the Potlatch Awards. Presenting Twenty-eight categories for each year of Potlatch:

Won Potlatch

Team USA Runner Up: Team Canada

Won Potlatch Spirit Trophy

Gay Agenda Runner Up: Stretch

Best Gift

Choco Steak House’s VIP Dinner Runner Up: Homegrown’s Buffer Massages

Song of Potlatch 2017

CAN’T STOP THE FEELING – Justin Timberlake Runner Up: YMCA – The Village People

Best Potlatch Bid Submission Video

Wham-OOO’s Potlatch Macklemore Song Runner Up: Tie – Brunchkin’s Brunch Infomercial and Friends’ Show Intro

Best Potlatch Bid Submission Physical Item

Human Powered Submarine’s Submarine Piñata Runner Up: Beach Owl’s Owl About Me posters

Best National Team Theme

Team Canada’s Disney costumes Runner Up: Team USA’s frosted tips

Best Team Theme

Twincest’s Khaki Scouts Runner Up: Natural 20’s Hamilton

Best Team Representation of Potlatch’s Throwback Theme

Stretch Runner Up: Wham-OOO

Best Male Costume at the Fields

Kyle Harper’s Mad Hatter from Alice and Huckerland Runner Up: Mike Caldwell’s Joker from Worlds Collide: DC vs Capcom

Best Female Costume at the Fields

Rachel Moens’ Hunchback of Notre Dame from the Canadian National Team Runner Up: Karie Holst’s Catwoman from Worlds Collide: DC vs Capcom

Best Team Jerseys

!ZAZ CULERO!’S Mariachi uniforms Runner UP: Wham-OOO’s Dixie Solo Cup jerseys

Funniest Costumes Based Match Up

Balls to the Wall-do Vs Shut Up We’re Wizards Runner Up: Natural Twenties’ Hamilton vs Desert Lorax’s Steam Punk

Best Campsite Dance Party

Nutria’s non-campsite imposing dance tent. Runner Up: PODO’s Fun Tunnel aka the Funnel

Best Late Night Entertainment Activity

T’was the Night Bacon Christmas’ Jokes for Bacon Runner Up: Nobaerang’s Karaoke Booth

Best Meal served from a Meal Themed Team

Dinner by Choco Steak House Runner Up: Brunch by Brunchkins

Who Won the Party

Everyone who dressed up in spandex, neon, or other aerobics attire Runner Up: Everyone who didn’t

Best DTF Parody Song

Daniel Krass’ “Part of Your World” about Potlatch Runner Up: Left Ball’s “Party in the USA” about Lei Out

Best DTF act

Stretch’s aerobics routine to “Love Shack” Runner Up: Amy Krog’s Glow Stick Dance

Best Constructed Spirit Game Prop

Beach Owl’s Baywatch Tower Runner Up: Desert Lorax’s Frisbee Launching Truffela Tree

Best Crowd Engagement Spirit Game

Entropy Punch’s WWF Compliment Throwdown Runner Up: Have Yourself a Jazzy Little Christmas’ 12 Days of Christmas

Most Electric Spirit Game

Cannibals’ Shock Collar Operation Runner Up: Natural 20’s Hamilton Potato Cannon

Team that Brought the Most Thunder

Brunchkins Runner Up: Shut Up We’re Wizards

Best Team Application of Glitter

Gay Agenda Runner Up: PODO

Best Pioneer Themed Team

Corps of Discovery Runner Up: Pioneer Cut

Best Golf Cart Decorations

Wet Hot AmerORCAn Summer’s Mystery Machine Runner Up: I Love You Tutu’s Golf Cart Tutu

Best Golf Cart Co-Pilot

Coit Stevenson from PODO Runner Up: Thomas Oliver from T’was the Night Bacon Christmas

Best Prank

I Love You Tutu midnight tutu golf cart addition Runner Up: Alex Duffel’s Midnight Lyft and Scatter

The post Potlatch 28 Awards: The Legend of Hriar appeared first on Skyd Magazine.

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[njawaidofficial]

'Twin Peaks': Meet the Man Behind David Lynch's New Nightmare

New Post has been published on http://styleveryday.com/2017/06/30/twin-peaks-meet-the-man-behind-david-lynchs-new-nightmare/

'Twin Peaks': Meet the Man Behind David Lynch's New Nightmare

[Warning: this story contains spoilers for the eighth installment of Showtime’s Twin Peaks: The Return.]

“Got a light?”

Those three simple words will forevermore carry haunting new meaning for anyone who watched the eighth installment of Twin Peaks: The Return, quite easily the most extreme episode of the entire David Lynch and Mark Frost series, original run included. The phrase belongs to the Woodsman, the charcoal-covered Abraham Lincoln lookalike who spent the latter section of the episode terrorizing a small New Mexico town by crushing skulls with his bare hands and reciting petrifying poetry over a radio broadcast.

“This is the water, and this is the well. Drink full, and descend. The horse is the white of the eyes, and dark within,” the murderous monster repeated over and over and over again, groaning the verses on a veritable loop until they were good and ingrained in the hearts and minds of Twin Peaks viewers everywhere. 

In his one appearance to date, the Woodsman was a man of few words — terrifying words to be sure, but still just a few. The man who plays him boasts a significantly larger vocabulary: Robert Broski, a veteran of the construction industry who only became an actor within the last ten years. Before Twin Peaks, Broski was best known for another iconic role: the aforementioned President Lincoln, a part he’s played in film, television, as well as in classrooms and at events across America. 

Through his work as the legendary president, Broski is well accustomed to yielding a wide range of reactions when he meets strangers on the street, tears of joy included. Now, after his work as the single scariest character on Twin Peaks, he’s steeling himself for tears of another variety. Read on for what Broski told The Hollywood Reporter about his journey toward Lincoln and Lynch, and how he feels about becoming such a singular force of nightmare fuel.

First and foremost, thank you for the nightmares this week.

Oh, you’re welcome!

Do you feel comfortable knowing that you’ve been haunting people’s dreams all week long?

Isn’t that a great feeling? Come on! I think any gentleman would like to have that feeling, that he can strike terror into that many people!

It’s a powerful feeling, I’m sure.

Definitely. (Laughs.)

So, who are you? Who is the man beneath the charcoal?

Oh my gosh. Well, let’s see. I’ve been married for 42 years. I raised four children doing construction. After they were raised and out of the house, I started thinking, “I want to do something relaxing.” Believe it or not, I opened up a newspaper and I saw one of those ads that asked: “Do you want to be in the movies?” And I said to myself, “Well, yes! I do!” I guess you can say the rest has been history. I submitted for that, and haven’t looked back since.

Where did that advertisement lead you, directly?

Directly, it led me to a background agency, which I don’t believe is still in business now. I can’t remember who in the heck it was. That started my trip down the road of doing background work and meeting so many enjoyable people. Everybody was just fantastic. I started pursuing it more and more as I had more and more free time. I grabbed an agent here and an agent there and started doing more principal work.

How long ago was this, when you changed careers and started pursuing acting?

Isn’t it crazy? Only about eight or nine years ago. Probably only nine years ago.

You have done a lot of work as Abraham Lincoln. You certainly look the part. Is that something that’s been with you for a long time, comparisons to Honest Abe?

Isn’t it funny? No! Not at all! One friend of mine used to joke about it, and I would laugh a little, but what do I do about it? I didn’t know what to do about it. Part of my beginning career in movies and TV was submitting for a role for Mr. Lincoln. I had never grown the beard before, because it’s kind of a crappy beard. It’s a Lincoln beard! But it’s a crappy beard, and I didn’t have it yet. But they liked my long, thin face and I had about a month and a half to grow the beard. So I said, “Let’s grow the beard and see what in the heck it looks like.” So I grew the beard, I looked in the mirror, and I said, “Oh my gosh. This is my destiny.” (Laughs.) It changed my life! My family thought I was weird and so did everybody else. “He’s a construction guy! What the heck is this all about?” So, yes, it’s changed my life. Changed my life for the better. I feel honored and blessed to present Mr. Lincoln, and also to take on some of these quirky roles now and then, too.

After this week’s Twin Peaks, people were describing you as an Abraham Lincoln impersonator. Is that a fair description?

I would say a “presenter,” not necessarily an impersonator. I present him. I just happen to have been blessed with being old and ugly and looking just like him. What I get out of it and enjoy about it is that I’m presenting Mr. Lincoln and everything he’s stood for: his honesty, his integrity, his desire to do the right thing for the country. I present that to whoever wants to listen, if it’s a school classroom or an auditorium filled with college kids, or a social event, or a live presentation maybe at a park or a parade or in a small stadium somewhere. Wherever it happens to be. If that happens to be TV or the movies, then there’s that.

Were you always into history, or did you have to do some research to become Mr. Lincoln?

No, I was not a history buff at all. I now own over 300 books! Like Mr. Lincoln, I like to read. I like to have a book in my hand. I like to underline certain things here and there. I’m constantly reading, because there are a lot of historians out there.

How do people react when they see you in character as President Lincoln?

I’ve had people step back and almost trip when I walk around the corner and they see me. I’ve had people dance in front of me, cry in front of me, and laugh hysterically. I get all kinds of reactions when I step out in my top hat.

And what have the reactions been like since your Twin Peaks debut?

Shock. (Laughs.) I guess you could say that. I kind of get the impression that people don’t want to meet up with me after dark anymore.

Has anyone been bold enough to ask you for a light?

(Laughs.) Well, I’ve already started seeing things where they will caption [an image of me] with “Lincoln: Got a light?” That’s okay. Nothing wrong with that!

How did you become a part of Twin Peaks?

It started off as a mystery. We didn’t know what it was. I saw the call sheet, and it asked for a Woodsman. It was rather vague. It sounded interesting. They wanted it with a little bit of a quirky twist, but to also use your own imagination. They wanted to see what the heck we could come up with. It definitely caught my eye, and I’m a character-y looking guy, so I thought I would give this thing a go. For some reason, they liked my looks, and how I got the actual featured Woodsman, I guess, is probably because I looked like I had traveled a long distance on my feet and I was just a skinny and weary looking guy. So they must have said, “Hey, let’s have this guy scare the crap out of everybody!”

Were you a fan of Twin Peaks before this?

Oh, sure. I happen to be over 60 years old, and I remember the original. You bet’cha. I wouldn’t turn the lights out when I was watching it. It was totally different than anything else that was on the air. It left you hanging, it left you thinking. It didn’t wrap you up at the end of the show with big smiles and everybody laughing and everybody applauding. No. It kept you coming back week after week, because you wanted to know if this was going to end, and what are these new ideas they’re throwing at you? It kept you glued to your seat. Doesn’t matter if you were eating popcorn or not. You were glued there.

What was it like to work with David Lynch?

Fantastic. Oh my gosh. What a wonderment, really. If you think about it, we were shooting scenes in these new and amazing ways. It was neat, because he would give us a vague idea of what it was, but he would let us do the scene the way we saw it. And then he would say, “Well, how about this? Walk this way, or move this way, or do this, or do that.” And sometimes it was like, “What the heck does this guy have in mind?” (Laughs.) But we trusted him, because in the end, we knew it was all going to be for the good of the whole show — not necessarily just our one little episode, or just a couple of scenes.

Publicly, David Lynch often comes across as someone who speaks in riddles — very enigmatic. Was that your experience with him on set?

No, not at all. Oh my gosh, he looked you straight in the eyes, and you felt like friends, every time he went up to you. Sure, he took everything seriously. But we even had time to talk about my wife and the illnesses she went through in her life. You felt very comfortable with him. You always had an idea of where he was coming from. You might not know where he was going, but you always knew where he was coming from. Very easy to follow. 

What went through your mind when you saw yourself as the Woodsman in a mirror for the first time?

“How am I going to play this person?” Sure, it was shocking to me, too, when I looked in the mirror. But how am I going to play this person? Zombies are a dime a dozen. It appeared this person was going to be a little more intelligent and a little more determined in his pursuit. Hopefully that’s what I brought to the scene: that he was more intelligent and he had an agenda in his pursuit. He was aiming for what he was aiming for.

Can you describe your viewing experience when you watched the episode for the first time? Where were you, and who was with you?

My wife and I were there. My children, since they’re grown and they have their own families, were watching at their own houses. I could picture their eyeballs getting wider and wider as they were watching it. (Laughs.) I love how [Lynch] tied in the scenes of the lives of the people who were listening to the station. That was all shot somewhere else. We had no idea that was going on. I had only seen it from my own eyeballs, so just watching it from outside of my head, the viewers’ side, gave you an idea of doom, an idea of no hope. You could definitely feel that.

The whole series has been very memorable for those following along, but Part 8 was an especially unforgettable hour of television, let alone an unforgettable hour of Twin Peaks. How does it feel to have played such a central part in this nuclear hellfire exploration of light and darkness?

Oh, it’s a crack-up. I mean, this is memorable. It’s obviously going to be with me for the rest of my life. For the rest of my life, I think people are going to come up to me and ask: “Got a light?” That’s going to be the new “where’s the beef,” from thirty years ago. (Laughs.) I laugh about it every time I hear it.

What’s next for you?

I have a commercial coming out, and I’m in the middle of filming a feature film called Trip to the Moon, which is kind of a steampunk Lincoln. I have a couple of those things in the works. And also I have a few live things coming up. When school starts again, I’ll be back in the classrooms.

You were in a short movie called Linclone. What is Linclone?

Isn’t that something? It was a short for a film festival to see if it could get picked up and turned into a movie. That was fantastic. It’s kind of a Frankenstein-ish Abraham Lincoln. And you know what? I think Mr. Lincoln himself would do something like that, because he was a jokester. He would tell some off-colored jokes now and then.

I read somewhere that he was a vampire hunter as well.

Yeah, there you go. And have you seen any vampires lately? No! (Laughs.) I’ve pretty near taken care of all of them, haven’t I? 

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