#he's almost if not over 50 meaning he's been training for 40+ years you KNOW this person is all the things above

[vancilart]

❌ be a man

✔️ be swift as a coursing river

✔️ have the force of a great typhoon

✔️ have all the strength of a raging fire

✔️ be mysterious as the dark side of the moon

#i mean he IS mysterious but for no reason really #he doesnt do anything but play with his dogs visit shelter dogs maintain his equipment and train #he's almost if not over 50 meaning he's been training for 40+ years you KNOW this person is all the things above #its the spartan upbringing of his kind that makes it #the constellation in the background is the lupus one :) #oc stuff #royaltines #please ignore that joke of a grip he has on his sword #i think im going for slavic names for his kind #bc while porcelain comes from china the characters dont reflect that #and russia was really big on manufacturing their own #they called it white gold and hid how it was made it was a big ol secret #they didnt learn it from others they developed a type of porcelain themselves #russia wasnt the first to have porcelain in europe tho marco polo brought it to italy first and france had some too but shhhhhhh

[thepersonnamedsam]

helloo, just wondering if I could request an imagine for gen z driver and everything that happened last weekend in Qatar! How the heat affected her, and maybe something dramatic and how the other drivers, fans and teams maybe worried about her, thank u sm<3

a random day in my life in f1

pairing: the genz!driver x 23!grid

summary: a vlog about our beloved genz!drivers day in the paddock

word count: 2k

warnings: none

note: merry christmas and a happy new year!

thanks for staying with me this year and into the new one :)

it’s not exactly like you asked and i’m sorry for that… but this has been sitting in my drafts for sooo long, and i just had to like give it some meaning…

masterlist / taglist

The vlogging camera was always secured somewhere in her bags, but she almost never used it. Being overwhelmed fast by all of the other cameras, she didn’t want to create herself more anxiety. But today was different.

„Hi guys!“ Her face appeared on the screen. Much too close, you could almost see her pimples she got from her sweaty balaclava.

The camera swayed and the paddock was shown. „We‘re here in Qatar, it’s beautiful. It is-“, the video switched to her watch „-2pm on a Thursday, that means Free Practice!“

Light music played in the background of the video, but you could still hear the busy paddock. People talking and walking in the background. Sometimes there would even be shouting, but y/n didn’t care, she just smiled into the camera.

„I’ll take you with me through my day! Are you excited? I bet you are“, she smiled. „Uhm, Qatar is a night race, as many of you probably know… but FP1 is still in daylight, which I’m glad, because I can actually see the track and not just feel it-“, she gestures the curves of the track with her hand „-you know? Yea…“, she mumbles the last part.

The video switches to a different setting. y/n now standing inside of her garage: „I have to be careful what I show here, it’s like Hippa in hospitals“, she laughs, „with privacy and all, we don’t want the other teams to know what strategies we’ve been working on.“

„But that’s my car“, she points to the newly polished F1 car, „she got a new look just for this race, can you believe it?“ The camera sways around the car to show off the new design.

„It’s really hot here, make sure to drink enough guys!“ An animation of a glass being filled with water appeared on the screen. „If it works, you should see some water right now“, the young driver grins.

The view changes again, this time to her watch: „We have 3.30pm, it’s time for me to warm up, but I’m actually already very hot, so maybe my trainer will let me off?“ She looks expectantly at her trainer, who only shakes his head no. „Aww man, worth a shot though.“

She placed the camera on the ground to film her warmup. The timelapse shows how she starts to lightly jog on the place. Her trainer starts to throw tennis balls at her. You couldn’t hear it in the video, but he shouts with which hand she has to catch the ball.

The music was catchy and in best with her rope jumping. y/n face was red and she was sweating extremely. She was puffing and breathing heavily. In this humid weather, even inside the cooling garage, it was hard to train. How would she survive in an already 40° hot car, for over 50 laps?

The music stops, so does the timelapse. You can see y/n breathing loud as she laid on the floor. Her head turned towards the camera and she smiles lightly. „Phew, never doing that again“, she laughs.

The video changes again, as y/n walks down the paddock to visit some of her friends: „I’m on my way to the McLaren hospitality. Lando and I have that tradition for Free Practice. We always get a smoothie before, so we don’t have to drink some weird protein shake.“

The view sways around and you can see the bright orange from McLaren. You could hear Lando before he was even in the video. His laugh loud and prominent. „Hi y/n‘s fans!“, he waves into the camera.

„This is Lando Norris, if you didn’t know. He drives for McLaren!“, she explains to her viewers. „I hope they know who I am…“, Lando pouts. She shushes him and giggles.

„What smoothie are you gonna get?“, she asks Lando. „McLaren hospitality has the best smoothies, I swear. Mine doesn’t even have smoothies, can you believe that?“

„Uhm, I think I’ll get the green one, I don’t want to hear anything from Jon, so that’s the only safe option“, he sighs. y/n grimaces, as the green smoothie tastes the worst.

„I think I want the red one, the one with the dragonfruit in it, so I can fly through this Free Practice like a dragon“, she laughs.

Lando rolls his eyes but still has to laugh at her shitty joke. „That was such a bad joke.“ - „But you love me anyway“, y/n grins.

You see y/n full on sweaty and with a red head. „Free Practice is done, it was hot, like really hot, Imma hop into my ice bath for a second and yea. I’ll probably go to the Hotel after to cool down, so I’m fully prepared for Qualifying.“

A shot of the pink rubber duck floating in the ice bath was shown. The duck was flipped and it showed the temperature of the water. 8°C. Perfect for a hot day like this.

„Ohh, I’m almost vaporising“, y/n laughs as she submerges in the water. „My skin is so hot and the water so cold, it’s like I’m the hot metal they put into water, I love this videos, I binge watch them before I go to sleep“, she confesses.

„Anyway, have you seen my pink ducky? I got it from Carlos! I was jealous of his, so he bought me my own temperature duck, isn’t that sweet?“

The next shot was y/n in her hotel room. She was laying in her bed, scrolling through her phone and occasionally laughing. The view was amazing, the sun was setting and you could see so much of Qatar.

„Good morning! It’s Friday then, it’s Saturday, Sunday, what?“

„Welcome“, she laughs, „I’m eating breakfast together with Max, say hi Max!“, Max waves into the camera. „I’m eating Avocado Toast with some Salmon - good fats for my body and Max is eating, actually, what are you eating Max?“

The view changes to Max‘ plate. There was a mix of different things, like some roaster potatoes and beans and some weird, almost wool like thing on his plate. „It’s potatoes, beans and some sauerkraut“, he explains. „What? Sauerkraut?“ - „Yea, I don’t know, apparently it’s good for your body.“

y/n makes a face of disgust and the screen goes black for a second.

„Okay, Q1 and Q2 are finished, got stuck in Q2, but I’m glad I don’t have to start in Q3 honestly, I can focus on the Sprint Shootout later. It’s hot in the car, hotter than usual.“

The scene changes, again to y/n laying exhausted on the floor. From the side you can see Oscar creeping up with a big glass of water. The moment the water hits y/n‘s skin, she’s up and about chasing the rookie.

„Oscar!“ And she sprints out of the view. The screen goes black and then you can see Oscar’s wet hair and two smiley young drivers. „She dumped me“, he huffs. „Into the water“, she says for clarification.

„It’s race day!“, she screams into the camera. „Well sprint day“, she says less excited. „I hate driving in these conditions. It’s way too hot, I’d rather drive on ice than this.“

The scenery changes again, cars driving around the parking lot. „I came here with Charles and Carlos, we’re staying at the same hotel and to save our carbon footprint, with all the excessive driving we do anyway, we thought we carpooled.“

You can see Charles driving and Carlos sitting in the passenger seat. „They wouldn’t let me drive, even though I’m an F1 driver“, she sighs. You can hear Carlos laugh and say: „Have you seen your driving style on the street? No way I would sit in that car.“

The young woman shakes her head and tuts. „You wouldn’t understand“, she whispered into the camera. Charles laughs.

„You know, for you being Australian, you’re still very sweaty.“ - „What? I’m not sweaty, that’s my natural glow“, Daniel laughs. „Natural for sure“, she mumbles.

„What even are you doing? You’ve been walking around with that thing for the past three days“, Danny asks. „I’m vlogging!“ - „You’re what?“, he asks confused. „You’re old, that’s what you are. It’s like blogging but with a video, so it’s vlogging“, she explains with a sigh. The older out of the two just makes an ‚oh‘ sound and laughs.

„I wanted to make a ‚a random day in my life in f1‘ video but it turned out to be a ‚a random four days in my life in f1‘ video.“

Fernando looks confused at y/n. „What?“, he blinks at her. „You know, it should’ve been a video about one day, now it’s about the whole race week“, she explains. „Ahh, okay“, Fernando answers, still unsure what the younger driver tries to explain him. „You wanna say hi?“, she asks him.

„Hi“, he replies. Fernando was not yet in view, but you could hear him. „Into the camera, Nando. You know how this works, you’ve done press and TikTok!“

„Hi“, he says again, this time Fernandos forehead was in excellent view. You could hear y/n‘s giggles as he took the camera out of her hand. „This is for my wife, Taylor, who’s cheating with another athlete!“

The camera was set down and Fernando stood up. „What are you doing?“, y/n‘s giggles continued. „Play Cardigan by Taylor Swift please“, he whisper shouts. As soon as the music begins, Fernando dances and sings to it.

„This is me before the sprint“, y/n looks into the camera and holds up a piece sign, „And this is me after the sprint.“ Face red and puffy. „Athletes sweat, I‘m a real athlete“, she quotes Daniel.

The camera sways to Oscar, who won his first race/sprint. „How do you feel, Mr. Piastri?“ - „I’m hot and sweaty, I wanna drown myself in an iceberg or something.“

„Yea same“, she huffs. „Listen, this race is exhausting. We drive in an unnormal heat, alone in the car it’s 40°C when the outside temperature is like 20°C. But the outside temperature here is already like 40°C, imagine what it’s like inside our cars.

This is for the FIA: I lost like 7kg this sprint race alone, just from sweating. What about you, Os?“ - „I don’t know if I want to say anything to the FIA“, he says lowly. „Ahh, they won’t see that anyway“, she reassures him. „I lost like eight pounds, maybe?“ - „How much is that in kilograms?“, she asks him slowly. He laughs and says: „Maybe 3.5kg.“

„Mr. Verstappen how many kilograms did you lose today?“, she shouts over the paddock. Max halts and turns around to face the camera that was shoved in his face.

„The scale says five, why? How much did you lose?“ - „Seven! Can you believe that?“

„This race really is torture, and we only raced, what, 16 laps? I don’t know.“ - „Can’t wait for tomorrow“, Lando sighs.

The screen goes black for a second again, before the same music started from her warm up at Free Practice. The timelapse begins again and you can see y/n sweating.

Occasionally she sits down to have a sip of water, but her trainer gets her up again. Her face appears wide in front of the camera and she starts to sing the lyrics as the music fades.

„Race day, baby, hoping for a good result today! I feel it in my sweat that I’ve been losing over the past few days“, she jokes.

She gets filmed as she gets into her car, it’s being rolled out of the garage and she makes the shaka with both her hands.

We get a few scenes as she drives past the start line and as she crosses the finish line, the radio messages was overlaid on the video.

„That is P4, baby!“, her race engineer shouted. „Yes! C‘mon! I almost fainted the last three laps, but totally worth it!“

You can see the podium being filmed from the ground. Max won, of course but; „Oscar and Lando! Woohoo! P2 and P3 for my Papaya Boys“, she screams as the McLaren drivers received their trophy.

The video ends with y/n sneaking into the room where they celebrated their podium in private. They were all exhausted.

„You reek of sweat and champagne“, y/n says from behind the camera. All three laugh and Max throws his towel at her camera. The screen goes black.

Comments 3.2K

user i- what was this?

user2 love, love, LOVE the smoothie tradition

user3 qatar should be banned from the schedule

user4 what do you mean, you almost fainted on the last 3 laps? what is going on?

user5 i heard lance almost fainted too

user6 this is cruel, but also love the content

user7 I WANT TO CRADLE HER AND TELL HER EVERYTHING IS OKAY AND THAT SHE CAN TAKE AN ICY SHOWER

user8 kimi would’ve walked straight to his yacht

user9 nando’s so right playing cardigan

user10 I KNEW YOU, PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK AND GIVING ME YOUR WEEKENDS!

youtube this was… eventful?

user11 ariana, what are you doing here?

user12 that’s so old

user13 shut up, they’re probably from all the tiktok edits here on yt

user11 what’s tiktok?

user14 love the new content

f1 wowza, y/n is just stealing our job! next stop: y/n hosts grill the grid

°°°

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#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #fernando alonso #genz driver #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x f!reader #max verstappen x reader #female driver #female f1 driver

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

Headcanon time!!

Because I'm the only one writing about Jean DeWolfe (so far, imma convert some people just you wait) I can do what I want. So I've started heaping up headcanons. Credit also to my beloved spouse (@haveyoueverconsideredpiracy) and my friend/beta because they not only listened to my rambling but participated despite not knowing a single fucking thing about DeWolfe OR marvel noir. I love y'all.

The comic is set in 1933, and Jean looks about 40 years old, realistically. That means he would have been around 20 when WW1 broke out, and probably would have been enlisted. He's definitely a war veteran. I've decided that he's gotten away pretty well (...relatively) because he's one of the lucky ones on whom speech therapy was tried (cannot remember the term back then but i have Found Evidence) and he's had ~10 years to get over the worst symptoms of shell shock (PTSD in modern language)

his training/actual job at the FBI actually helps him balance that trauma out actually by adding more trauma

listen i'm not a psychologist we'll just keep it vague okay

he is absolutely incapable of normal human interactions. might have to do with the couple of years he spent isolating himself (it's the trauma babyyy) because no one he'd had a close bond with before going to war could even somewhat understand what he went through

this includes his best friend because i've decided that said best friend died in the war (look i'm sorry but it has to be)

(actually peter sometimes reminds jean of that friend)

jean is gay

don't ask why. i'm queer so all my blorbos are queer. let me have this as i said i can do what i want nobody can contradict me here, including canon bc canon said nothing

he's hella closeted of course. it's the early 20th century. he spent his late 20s/early 30s having a prolonged existential and sexuality crisis (he's convined that it's too late already for a mid-life crisis since that would imply he'd live to 50+ of which he's not convinced) until finally accepting it as a fact

he's never gonna have a relationship (bc trauma and also i think he's married to his job) but sometimes he likes to sit in a gay bar and just see people like him living and loving for once

ever since he watched the spider almost being killed by the sandman he's actually rethought his stance on vigilantes - they can get to places/people the fbi can't, spider is def just trying his best, and also spider is very much mortal *and* owes jean his life which is definitely reassuring

he has used his buzzer before to get a group of racist assholes to stop harassing poc. he usually doesn't involve himself but he's canonically very much not racist which is pretty fucking cool for the time (everything at the time was horrible tbh) and i love that okay

he has absolutely complained to higher-ups about corrupt cops or similar things he noticed, to no avail

every time he enters a (gay) speakeasy off the job (he has decided that when he's off the clock harmless crimes don't rly count bc u gotta draw a line somewhere) he absolutely has to stop himself from going all prohibitionist fbi agent

nobody who regularly works with him can remember ever seeing him without his hat

#not ALL of these are pulled out of thin air and thats pretty cool i think #very few make sense but thats overrated anyway #jean dewolfe #marvel noir #i need to convert people #but if nobody gonna fill that tag then ill do it myself #a biscuit's rambles #my fics

[icinch]

Get Smart - Train Your Brain for Success

New Post has been published on https://www.cinchhomebiz.com/get-smart-train-your-brain-for-success/

Get Smart - Train Your Brain for Success

Popular thought says there’s something about turning 40 that makes one think, “Holy ^%!*, I could actually get old one day.” Then 50 starts approaching at warp light speed, and some start to think whole new thoughts, like, “Where did I put my keys?” And, “What did I come into this room for?” And “What was I going to write in my blog post? Wait, what’s my password? Never mind the password, what’s my domain again?”

If you can’t relate yet, good for you, and I hope you never do! In fact, this article is meant to inspire you to avoid such mental collapse.

No matter what your age, you can benefit from a better brain. And I don’t mean trading your brain in for a new one, although that could be awesome. I mean growing your own brain so that it functions better, makes new connections and thinks up creative new ideas constantly. Just like there’s weight training and cardio for the body, certainly there must be ways to improve how your brain functions so that everyday tasks like running your online business and finding new ways to make it profitable become like child’s play. At least, that’s what I was hoping to find.

So I started doing some research into the brain and how it works and what a person can do to improve it. And you know what? You have to be a brain scientist to understand all that stuff. So I took a shortcut – I bought a book by a brain researcher with 20+ years of experience in actively building or growing his own brain. The book is called Whole Brain Power, and the exercises he recommends are not at all what I was expecting.

First discovery I made – the brain actually does grow from nurturing and training it. Second discovery – left handed people have more brain mass and a more flexible brain structure than right handed people. You might be wondering how they know that: UCLA did a study of 70 pairs of identical twins where one twin was right handed, the other left handed, with an average age of 70. The lefties almost invariably had better brains.

Put these two pieces of information together, along with a lot of scientific data I won’t get into, and you find that by using your non-dominant hand to do things like write and play sports, you are actually growing your brain. Plus memorization can work wonders, too.

Here’s a tangible example of brain growth: London’s famous black-cab cabbie drivers must store a mental map of London, including 25,000 street names and the locations of all major tourist attractions. It takes 3 years of intensive study to pass the test, and three-quarters of the applicants drop out. When they studied the brains of these cabbies, they found their hippo-campus had grown. In fact, the longer they spent on the job, the bigger their brains. This and other studies prove you can physically improve your brain if you work at it.

Doing these exercises have side benefits as well. Within 3 to 4 weeks of consistent training you’ll notice you’re more alert, you have greater focus and your attention span improves. Work will become easier, you’ll write blog posts faster, and you’ll begin seeing possibilities in your business that were all but invisible to you before. Plus your memory will get better, you’ll experience more energy, your chance of getting Alzheimer’s decreases and other benefits as well.

So what are the prescribed exercises for growing your brain? I’ll go over some of them briefly.

For purposes of explanation, I’m going to assume you’re right handed. If you’re left handed, just reverse what I say.

Anything that you normally do with your right hand like brushing your teeth, combing your hair, eating with a fork, etc., try doing with your left hand every day.

Write with your left hand. Get a notebook and write something on the right page with your right hand. Then write that same thing on the left page with your left hand. Your right hand (left brain) is actually training your left hand (right brain) using this method. If you like, use mirror writing when writing with your left hand. That is, write from right to left in such a way that the writing is legible when viewed in a mirror. Leonardo Da Vinci did this and he was no intellectual slouch.

By the way, it’s no coincidence that Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, Mickey Mantle and Babe Ruth were all ambidextrous.

Memorize and recite things forwards and backwards. For example, learn to say the alphabet as fast backwards as you do forwards. Memorize states or countries in reverse alphabetical order. Memorize long poems, speeches or soliloquies. While you’re at it, learn a new language. And memorize number sequences such as the powers of 2 all the way up to 30 or beyond (2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256, 512, 1024, 2048, 4096, 8192, 16384 etc.)

Do hammer drills. To start, get a lightweight (1 pound or so) rubber mallet and using your right hand bounce a tennis ball on it. Bounce once and catch, bounce once and catch. When you get good, bounce twice and catch, then three times, working your way to bouncing 5 times and catching the ball. Now transfer the mallet to your left hand and repeat. Be patient, your brain wants to learn this new skill. Move up to using a golf ball and increase the number of reps. When you can do 100-300 on either hand, place a mallet in both hands and bounce the ball from the right to the left and back again. Once you can do this successfully for 100 reps or more, get a heavier hammer. Sounds crazy, but the benefits – both to the brain and the body – are enormous. Here’s a helpful video on hammer drills:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MWl9W0kg6j4

Avoid passive stress from television and video games. You know how your mom said those things would rot your brain? Turns out she was right.

There’s a lot more, like games you can play and the science behind all of this. I highly recommend you get a copy of the book. It’s called Whole Brain Power: The Fountain of Youth for the Mind and Body by Michael Lavery.

If you’re wondering if all this stuff works, go to chapter 5 and look at the before and after photos of the artwork done by C. Ryan Walsh for the documentary film, Brain Dead: The Resurrection of a Video Game Junkie. In 45 days his artwork went from what I would describe as a 2nd or 3rd grade level to a 12th grade level, assuming the 12th grader had practiced art for 12 years. Absolutely mind boggling.

One last thing – what could you accomplish in your Internet business if you were smarter? If your memory was better? If you were more creative? If you had more energy? If you had more concentration and focus?

What couldn’t you accomplish??

[snifflesthemouse]

A Letter To Harry

Dear Harry,

My name is Nunya Business. I just want to take the time out of my life to clue you in on something I had to learn the hardest of ways. If my life lessons can save you the pain and suffering I went through, while indirectly saving the rest of us the pain and suffering from hearing about your pain and suffering, so be it. Let me begin.

You see, Harry, my mom died when I was 25. She was 47. She was bedridden the last ten years of her life. So that means she was permanently confined to a hospital bed for ten solid years, beginning when I was 15. That also means I watched her die slowly for ten years. By the time I was 16, I was trained in wound care management. I was also working 40+ hours a week at a fast-food place and attending school whenever I could. Even though I missed a lot of school, I still carried straight As. I always had great grades in school; I was getting scholarship recruitment letters by the time I was 15. I was brilliant. Still yet, I dropped out of high school by the second day of twelfth grade.

Unlike the traumatic lifestyle of servants and wealth, I was brought up extremely poor. The state paid for our school clothes through clothing vouchers. My dad worked a full-time job from the time he was sixteen until he retired AFTER my mom died. But my mom never held a job, drove a car, got a GED or photo ID, and missed out on a lot of living. So, he was the only source of income until I was old enough to help with the medical bills. He was 18 years older than she was. He only kept working after he reached retirement age because she needed insurance, but I digress. Back to the poor me part of my letter.

Here I was. Sixteen, early into my budding painkiller addiction, working full time, essentially homeschooling myself, taking care of my mother, AND still hoping I could make it out of there. SPOILERS: I DIDN’T MAKE IT OUT OF THERE. You know why? I played the same hand you play now. The poor me, poor me, pour me cards. I started taking my mom’s pain pills for my migraines. One didn’t really go full blown migraine on me one day, and I got high. By the middle of my tenth-grade year, I was having four Percocet tens and a chocolate milk for breakfast. For lunch I had a nap after fighting in and out of nodding off high for the first four periods. Eventually, that drug addiction got insane out of hand. I went from prescription pain killers to shooting heroin within 5 years. I went from never having a detention to having a felony credit card fraud charge and ten years over my head. I didn’t have old money to buy my excuses. I went to prison.

Unlike you, Harry, I wasn’t able to go to immaculate rehabs or have my family bail me out of trouble. I wasn’t able to do hard drugs and become a binger alcoholic behind the scenes, then just “quit” without issue. Something tells me neither were you. I’ve met a ton of addicts and alcoholics. Both say the same. After a month of the same nonsense, the addiction was rooted. So please explain to me how you managed to escape the severities associated with heavy drug use and drinking without withdrawing or getting hooked. Seriously, because you’d be the first person impervious to addiction. Most all of us have to fight the fight of our lives to get and stay clean. I know, I’ve managed almost 6 years now. What about you?

No, like us regular folk, I had to go about sobriety the long, hard route. But of course, it cost waaayy more than you’d ever understand.

Your partying days in Nazi uniforms didn’t cost a thing compared to how much they can cost regular people. By 17, I was already shacked up with a psychopath ten years my senior who literally ended up killing my childhood best friend’s fiancé. Not even exaggerating. My ex killed my ex-best friend’s fiancé in the living room of the house I grew up in, in front of my mom and dad. A month before my mom died, actually. My ex-boyfriend did some major fuck shit to me, and I have a history of dating abusers, but I won’t get into that. Just know 50 Shades isn’t sexy to me and hearing old country music instantly makes my face hurt from getting full beer cans chucked at me… Oh and ya know what, Harry? Turns out if I kept dating psychopaths who hit me… the real problem wasn’t who I was dating. It was ME. But again I digress. Sorry Harry.

I lost my friend who was murdered by my ex at my parents’ home a month before my mother died and two months before I was sent to prison. I struggled with addiction from the time I was 16 until my last relapse 3 July 2015. I dropped out of high school because of my drug addiction, then dropped out of college after getting my GED and a scholarship. 

My mother first introduced me to pain pills. She didn’t realize what she was doing and all, but she just thought she was helping her daughter get through a migraine. I got hooked. I robbed everyone I ever loved and didn’t give two shits about the people I hurt. To this day, I still struggle with caring about people. But again, I digress.

My point is this, Harry. I’ve personally been through fifty times more shit than you have. I watched my mother die slowly over ten years. I watched her gasp for air and cry in the night for God to just take her out of this world so she’d not be in pain anymore. I have lost most everyone I hold near and dear to me simply because I failed to show any self respect, accountability, or acceptance. I didn’t have parents cleaning up my messes with money. I didn’t have castles and privileges to boot when the newspapers ran the stories where I was sentenced to prison. No. I had to face the music and learn the world could fucking care less about how I feel.

Now is time you learn this lesson, too. The world is not fair. What you feel is not important. All that matters is what you do with how you feel. Nobody, and I mean absofuckinglutely NOBODY gives two shits about how you feel; the only reason people watch is because they are nosey. The only reason Oprah makes shows with you is to exploit your story for financial gain, like some type of trauma porn. Your wife isn’t looking out for you if she’s letting you incriminate yourself like that on TV and all, either. I know what you are going through, as I have dated one of those. It didn’t end well for me, and it will not end well for you.

Final note, Harry. Your family in the UK have loved and protected you for your entire life. Everyone accommodated you in your naked billiards in Los Angeles and Calgary. They did more than you could understand. Before it’s too late, and they finally get tired of your repeated bullshit, and trust me Harry, they will… make up with them. If that means ditching the wife, ditch her. Because she’s going to ditch you soon enough.

Trauma isn’t a renewable resource, my love. People are tired of your greatest hits on repeat. Better start the plans to turn that wife into the second act soon or the checks will start bouncing faster than those moon bumps. Oh and another thing, man the fuck up! Everyone has problems. You are not special. You’re not even a spare anymore. You’ve been replaced on all that. So why the hell do you still hold onto your childhood the way you do? Or those titles like you do? Oh you must be a masochist. You must like it.

Sincerely,

Nunya Business

#megxit #yankeewally #prince harry

[goldenraeofsun]

4:01 PM

Dean sips his whiskey and glowers across the bar at his own reflection. His wrist is burning like a brand, but it’s probably all in his head. The stupid timers don’t cause physical pain when they reach T-minus zero, Houston we have a problem. The numbers freeze, and that’s that.

Dean’s had counted down to nothing at exactly 4:01 PM, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes of running into his soulmate, getting his number, continuing on his way to this bar, and telling the bartender to keep ‘em coming.

He refuses to look at the far corner of the room, the booth he had reserved like an idiot. Four PM, party of two, under the name Winchester.

On the bar by his glass, his phone is still lit up with Cas’s texts from the past hour.

Cas 3:11 I’m so sorry I have to move our appointment. My client just unexpectedly switched our time to 4pm.

Cas 3:21 I think I’ll be able to escape by 4:30. Can I meet you then?

Dean had responded with a thumbs-up emoji. He didn’t have it in him to say any more.

Cas 3:50 This city is impossible to navigate. How does anyone live here?

Cas 3:58 You were right, I should have rented a car.

Three minutes after Cas’s last text, Dean ran into his soulmate. Right on schedule.

As far as first meetings go, it hadn’t been as much of a shitshow as Dean had expected.

The dude was attractive, at least, and the first thing he did after bumping into Dean was apologize. But he was wearing a tailored suit and glued to his phone, so it definitely could have been better.

His soulmate would’ve run off none the wiser, except Dean had to blurt, “Wait!” because, despite his disappointment, Dean couldn’t let his soulmate disappear into the throngs of Michigan Avenue. Dean wasn't about to fall to one knee, but he also couldn't let his best shot just go.

The man stopped, irritated. His gaze refused to linger on Dean, instead fixating on a building at the end of the block.

Head swimming with too many thoughts to name, Dean couldn’t get the right words out. He gestured mutely to his wrist, pulling up the flannel to show him.

Eyes widening with understanding, his soulmate quickly tugged up the cuff of his sleeve, only sparing a second to verify his own timer stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice.” he said, distracted. “My name is James. Here,” he fished out a pen and something to write on from various pockets of his trench coat, “my number. We… should talk. Later.” He scowled, raising his other wrist to check at his watch. “I need to go.”

“Sure, man,” Dean said, mostly grateful he didn’t have to stick around and have some heart-to-heart with a stranger that was apparently meant for him. Whatever the fuck that actually meant.

“Thank you,” James said swiftly. Without another word, he took off back down the street.

Dean didn’t bother to watch him go. He had a barstool waiting with his name on it.

Sam will laugh himself silly once Dean tells him his perfect match wound up being some corporate suit. Dean once told him he’d rather microwave his own head than set foot in an office cubicle.

Sammy was the big soulmate skeptic in the family. He found his non-timer approved other half while he was protesting an illegal dismissal of a disabled employee. Three years later, when Sam bumped into Gabriel Crawford in a strip club at midnight on Dean’s birthday, he discovered Gabe was perfectly happy to let Sam live his apple pie life while Gabe continued to party like it was 1999.

Gabe made Sam promise to look him up if Eileen was ever down for a threesome.

Turned out, Eileen was.

Sam most certainly was not.

He still sends Gabe a card for the holidays, and usually Gabe sends him back candy samples from wherever he’s vacationing for the winter.

But everyone else Dean knew bought into the soulmates game, hook, line, and sinker. His parents were soulmates. Benny and Garth both settled down with theirs. Charlie and Aaron were holding out for theirs. Hell, even Jo had her weird thing with Bela Talbot.

Dean would’ve counted himself among their number - until he met Cas.

Well, until Cas messaged him on Bobby’s new ask-a-mechanic feature on the garage’s website. Cas had inherited a banged up 1967 Mustang and had no idea where to start with restoration. Apparently Gabe of all people was staying with Cas at his place in southern California, and he recommended Dean.

Why Cas couldn’t just look up a local place still baffles Dean to this day, but he has never been more grateful for Cas’s weird-ass logic.

Their relationship had stayed strictly professional until Cas’s actual car broke down on some random highway in California. Dean had tried to talk Cas through the repair himself, but it was no use. Cas either didn’t have the equipment for the fix, or Dean didn’t diagnose the right problem. Dean was about to hang up, when Cas had asked, clearly embarrassed, “Would you please stay on the line? I have this irrational fear of being murdered in the middle of nowhere where nobody can find my body for proper rites.”

Dean, almost surprising himself, didn’t laugh. Instead, he said, “Sure thing. Wanna put me on hold while you get in touch with Triple A?”

He spent an hour and a half on the phone with Cas, telling him stupid stories about the worst things people have done with their cars.

In return, Cas told him all about the stars that were just coming out in the darkening desert sky.

The week after, Bobby’s garage received a gift certificate in the mail. It was for a weeklong stay at the Chicago location of the five-star hotel chain Cas works for, in Dean’s name.

Those little chocolates on the pillows ruined Dean for motels everywhere.

At the bar, Dean signals the bartender for a refill. He glares down at his phone. The little rectangle contains his entire history with Cas, call logs, text receipts, everything.

He can’t look at it any longer. He shoves it in his pocket, and the receipt with his soulmate’s phone number crinkles in protest. With a sigh, Dean takes out the flimsy piece of paper.

James’s handwriting is neat, so Dean doesn’t even have the excuse of not being able to read a digit or two.

Maybe Dean will give him a call after his drink with Cas. Hopefully, once James finds out that Dean’s just a mechanic, lives in a shoebox apartment in Bucktown, and has never been to Aspen or the Alps, he’ll tell Dean to take a hike.

Dean flips the receipt over, and his stomach gives a sickening lurch. In pretentious curlicue lettering, the first words Dean reads are, The Nine Spheres.

James is staying at Cas’s hotel.

Fucking great. Dean crumples the receipt and shoves it back in his pocket. With his luck, James will probably want to meet in the restaurant on the first floor, the fancy-ass place with the steakhouse burger and truffle fries Dean would actually sell his soul for.

Dean actually dreamed about that burger, a few months after his Cas-sponsored stay. When he told Cas about it, Cas let out a bark of laughter.

In the next breath, though, he told Dean he does the same when he’s scoping out a new location and can’t stay at a nearby Nine Spheres.

Dean tips back his glass of whiskey. It’s stopped burning on the way down his throat, a good sign.

He was so stupid, thinking he could fuck with destiny, fate, or whatever shitty power up there decides soulmates.

Once Cas told him about his business trip to his neck of the woods, Dean had taken one look at the numbers on his arm counting down and did the math. He would meet his soulmate smack dab in the middle of Cas’s window in Chicago.

He could make Cas be his soulmate. Cas never brought up his timer, if it was still ticking, if he’d already met his other half. And Dean, coward that he was, never asked. If he didn’t know for sure, then there was that slim, slim chance that theirs matched up after all.

But no, Cas had to go and switch up their meeting time at the last second, and Dean had run into James instead.

His pocket buzzes with a new text. Mood lower than Cas’s voice register, Dean slides his phone out.

Cas 4:38 My meeting is over. Should I still meet you at the same place?

Dean 4:39 Yeah Hope its okay I got started without you

Cas 4:40 More than okay, considering my scheduling difficulties.

Dean 4:40 See you soon

Dean sighs and drains his glass.

Foot jiggling on the barstool and eyes trained on his hands clasped in front of him, Dean deliberately does not look around as the door opens.

And opens again.

And again.

Confused and irritated, Dean takes another look around. Above the bar, a chalkboard clearly proclaims Happy Hour from 4:30-6:30 PM. Dean ducks his head, scowling into the remains of his drink. He probably overlooked the sign before because of his single-minded quest to get shitfaced like a freshly-dumped senior at prom stuck next to the spiked punch bowl.

His phone obnoxiously tells him it’s 4:43.

That’s just great. Dean hops off the stool, meaning to ask the hostess if anyone’s asked for Winchester, when James pushes open the door.

Dean stops dead in his tracks.

James freezes, his eyes going wide. His trench coat swishes ominously to a stop.

Should Dean turn around? Pretend he didn’t see? Cas is going to be here any second.

Before he can make up his mind, James is walking towards him. “Hello,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.”

Dean swallows. “Me neither,” he says honestly.

James scans the small crowd now gathered around the bar, brow furrowing in concentration. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

Dean lets out a silent exhale of relief. He musters up a weak smile. “No problem, man. I’ll leave you to it.” As he turns back around, James steps up to the hostess stand.

James says, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the din, “I’m a bit late, but is there a reservation for Winchester? For 4:30?”

Dean could not possibly have heard what he thinks he did. But the timing is right - for once. He spins around, practically losing his balance thanks to the booze he already drank.

The hostess scans her sheet of names, shaking her head. “There was a reservation for Winchester at four PM, but that’s it.”

James’s face falls. Shoulders slumping, he pulls out his phone, squinting as the screen lights up. “He said he was here,” he mutters.

He can’t be Cas. That would be crazy - like, dingo ate my baby, crazy.

“Could be at the bar,” the hostess says flippantly, tilting her head to the crowded area. “Most of ‘em don’t check in.”

James’s lips press together. “Thank you,” he says to the hostess, his tone clipped. “I’ll wait there.”

Dean steps in front of him before James can get lost in the throng of people. “I heard you’re lookin’ for me,” he says with a confidence that’s only 99% bullshit.

James blinks. “You?”

“Dean Winchester, at your service,” he says, spreading his arms wide.

“Dean,” he echoes, his gaze raking up and down Dean’s body, drinking him in with his new eyes.

“Gotta say,” Dean drawls as his heart pounds with nerves. Doubt niggles at the back of his mind like an itch he can’t scratch, but he’s already made his memory foam bed. Might as well lie in it. “Cas is the weirdest nickname for James that I’ve ever heard.”

“My full name is James Castiel Novak,” Cas says, flushing. “James - that’s what I go by professionally. My family calls me Castiel.”

Dean can’t hold back his broad grin. “Family, eh?”

Cas’s expression takes a swift dive from embarrassed to mortified. “And friends,” he tacks on. He takes a step closer, staring at Dean’s face in wonder. “But you’re also my soulmate.”

Dean laughs giddily. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t beat around the bush. Not your style.” He jerks his head towards the bar. “I think I see an open seat. You wanna have that talk now?”

Cas hesitates. “Would you like to go to Nine Spheres instead? I’ve had business dinners every evening I’ve been in Chicago so far, and, while the food has been good-”

“It’s not the steakhouse burger?” Dean finishes for him.

The corners of Cas’s mouth turn down into a slight grimace. “Last night, a client treated us to tapas. I woke up starving.”

Dean smiles. “You know I’m always down for that burger.”

“Excellent,” Cas says with relish as he pushes open the door.

They walk onto the street, and it’s almost offensively quiet after the noise of the bar. It’s a balmy Spring evening, the sun still relatively high in the sky.

“You don’t seem disappointed anymore,” Cas says out of nowhere as they reach the end of the block.

So Cas caught on to that, back when they first ran into each other. Dean shrugs. “I just got stood up by the guy I’d specially set up to meet me at 4:01. Wouldn’t you be?”

Cas clears his throat, asking hoarsely, “You wanted it to be me?”

Dean throws him a look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Cas just shrugs. The light changes, and they step off the curb.

“Were you… disappointed?” Dean asks hesitantly.

Cas lets out a surprised laugh. “Of course not. I didn’t even think - well,” he falters, casting a sidelong look at Dean, “I’m not disappointed. Believe me.”

The automatic doors to Nine Spheres open, hitting them with a burst of perfectly conditioned air. Dean hasn’t stepped foot in the hotel since Cas paid for his stay, but it hasn’t changed one bit. The same tiered giant chandelier glitters overhead. Giant pillars bracket the concierge desk to the left and the enormous staircase to the right that leads up to the second floor rooms. The tiled floor, so polished Dean can practically see his reflection, stretches the length of the lobby.

Dean sticks out like a flannel-wearing sore thumb. “Cas,” he hisses, “hold on. I don’t think I’m dressed right for this place.”

Cas sucks in a breath. “No,” he says as Dean’s heart sinks, “I suppose not.” He jerks his head towards the elevator bay. “Room service?”

Dean blinks.

“I’ve called for the burgers on several occasions at other locations,” Cas assures him. “It tastes as good.”

Was Cas actually trying to convince him to go up to his room? What a dumbass. Dean laughs.

Cas colors, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Forget it,” he mutters. “We don’t-”

“You know, if you invite me up to your room,” Dean cuts him off, “you’re going to have a bitch of a time getting me to leave, right?”

Cas stares at him.

“Dude,” Dean says, “I’ve never stayed anywhere this nice in my life. Between the food, the water pressure, and the robe that felt like I was fucking a cloud, I had enough of a hard time leaving last time.”

“I’m glad,” Cas says stiltedly. “We strive to provide the optimal experience to all our guests.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “’M saying, add you to the mix, and they’re gonna have to drag me out of here, kicking and screaming.”

“And if I don’t want you to leave?” Cas asks in an undertone as he pushes the up button for the elevator.

“Then I guess we don’t have a problem,” Dean says, winking.

Cas’s responding grin falls as the doors close behind them and the elevator starts moving. He shakes his head. “It’s a shame there are cameras in here.”

Dean leans in closer, whispering in his ear, “Doesn’t bother me much. Whaddya say to giving the peeping toms a show, then?”

Cas bites his lip, and this close, Dean can see how his eyes have blown black with want. “I - I can’t.”

It’s like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice water. Dean steps back, shame filling him. That’s fine. He can regroup. Hopefully Cas will be more receptive behind closed doors. It’s not the first time this has happened, anyway.

“Dean, I have to work with these people every day,” Cas hisses, wringing his hands. “The last time an executive got… busy with a coworker in the pool, the mocking didn’t end for weeks. Not to mention her rebuke from upper management.” He throws Dean a desperate look. “I would like for you to be fully clothed by the time you meet my coworkers for the first time.”

Cas is already planning for Dean to meet his people?

The elevator dings, and Cas steps out. “Are you coming?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says quickly. As he follows Cas down the maze of rooms, he has to ask, “You were planning on introducing me to your coworkers?”

Cas’s cheeks pink. “Unless you were opposed to it,” he mutters as he stops in front of Room 1518. He sighs, making no move to insert his keycard. Instead, he lifts his head to meet Dean’s gaze squarely. “I’ve put in a transfer request to Chicago.”

“What?”

“It was before I knew you were my soulmate,” Cas says quickly. “I’ve never felt like I fit in in California, and my parents live in Pontiac. The Chicago office is decently large, and, well, I knew you were here,” he says, his voice going quiet near the end. He straightens. “So there were many reasons.”

“You’re staying?” Dean says, his mouth dry.

Cas bobs a nervous nod. “I hope that’s okay.”

Dean grins. “Sure is.”

Cas touches the inside of his wrist, his expression turning almost shy. “Of course, when I first pictured introductions, it was strictly as a friend. I don’t really know anyone else in this city well, and I’ve told you about my difficulty in social situations, so it would’ve been more for moral support than anything else. But after this evening -”

Dean interrupts his rambling. “Are there cameras in the hallway?”

“What- oh,” Cas says, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips before back up again. “Yes?” He points. “They’re all the way down there, though, so they can’t -”

Dean cuts him off with a heated kiss.

#destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #soulmates au #businessman Castiel #mechanic Dean #profoundnet #rae writes fic #i post something new every Sunday #this one kind of got away from me #but hopefully in a good way #deancas #deancas fanfic

[extremelyblackandwhite]

scrubs.

pairing: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

warnings: none

> next chapter

The coffee cup was laying neatly on his desk by the computer screen with surgeon-like precision. After years and years of studying, being an intern, and serving crazy, late or early rotas, Sebastian had got used to being the resident doctor. His routine, although unpredictable, had some sort of shape and one of the things he enjoyed doing was having his cup of coffee while looking at his first patient’s record before he could come in. Of course, like in every single job, there were unpredictable factors and for him it always seemed to be lack of test results in his record files.

    - Hey ... - he called out for one of the nurses who was passing by. She stopped by his door, poking her head in. - Where are the blood culture results from this patient?

    - The laboratory sent the samples back up. You’ll have to order a blood culture again.

    - Fucking hell ... - he mumbled to himself, throwing the file onto the table.

Of course, Sebastian never got to fully take his coffee. If he did, it normally meant she was on holiday. The biggest unpredictability of the job wasn’t the patients or the constant urgencies, no, the biggest unpredictability in his job was a woman. Not just every woman, no, a biomedical scientist in the microbiology department which always seemed to deny his tests or contest every medical opinion he had. 

He sighed as he pressed the lift’s button to the laboratory floor. There was always an unseen line between the doctors, nurses and assistants on the upper floors and the laboratory staff on the lower floor. Doctors barely showed up in the laboratory yet again not all doctors had a biomedical scientist after them. Actually, no other doctor had a war with a biomedical scientist, just him. Lucky him.

   - Stan, put a lab coat on. - speaking of the devil. - Did they not tech you health and safety in med school?

   - It’s Dr. Stan. - he grudgingly grabbed the lab coat she has extended over to him, stopping him from getting any further into her department. She was right about that, but he wasn’t gonna give her that. - It’s 8 AM, are you already hiding from your responsibilities?

    - Where are my blood culture results, Y/N? I have a patient coming in 50 minutes and I can’t tell them what’s wrong with them. 

    - That’s not my problem. - she turned around but he followed her still. - Will you please leave? I have work to do.

    - Oh really? Considering you haven’t given me the results, I’d think you just slack off the whole day here. - he sighed. - C’mon, Y/N. 

   - I’m sorry, Dr. Stan but maybe you should instruct your nurses in what correct blood culture bottle to send the blood samples. If you suspected anaerobic bacteremia why did you sent it in an aerobic bottle? They’re dead, I cannot plate dead bacteria. Now if you please, I have work to do. 

   - Did they or did you just lose the sample again?

   - Unlike you, Dr. Stan I do my job correctly. Now if you don’t mind, I have requests from Doctors who know what they’re doing. 

Sebastian grumbled, taking the lab coat on tossing it onto the hook. Y/N grinned to herself as she returned to her microscope, mentally celebrating the fact she had once again managed to upset Dr. Stan. It wasn’t that he was a bad doctor, he wasn’t, he was just too lenient with his staff while Y/N was razor sharp focused on getting work done so whenever a sample came in bad state, unlike other department senior scientists, she’d just deny them and go do tests on good samples. That particular mindset resonated with her superiors but Dr. Stan enjoyed coming downstairs to give her an earful as if she could do something. Well, she could do something, she could go upstairs and train the staff herself but she wasn’t paid for that and it seriously was not her job to do so. 

     - Dr. Stan, again? - Miriam, one of the scientists who had started around the same time as her and had experienced as many of their fights as there had been, sat by her side. - You two seriously need to fuck.

     - Miriam! - she widened her eyes, looking around to see if someone had heard them. - Why don’t you say it louder? 

    - Listen when me and cute butt from haematology we’re feuding, we fucked it out during the Christmas party and look at us now ... - she smirked taking the necklace with her engagement ring from under her laboratory coat. - Besides, he is a doctor. 

    - He’s too old. - she returned to inspecting the Gram slide under her microscope, but Miriam had other plans, turning off the light in her microscope. 

    - He’s in his 30s. That’s a baby in doctor years besides you two are making everyone miserable. 

    - I will make you miserable if you don’t start analysing the new samples. 

Telling a patient he needed to give blood samples again sounded easy enough. After all, Sebastian had had a whole communication module during med school and almost ten years worth of experience yet nothing compared to listening to a patient yell at him before he even had lunch. Surely with the amount of times, Y/N had done this to him he would be used to it now but not when all he’d have was coffee. With a scowl on his face, he walked into the cafeteria. Damned Y/N, damned Y/N and her petty fighting. 

    - Seb! - Dr. Mackie set his tray on his table. They’d done their residency together and he had even been present when he and Y/N had their first encounter and fight. - Word is you’ve already had your first fight with Y/N. What’d you do now?

    - I didn’t do anything. Blood came in the wrong bottle and she didn’t even try doing the test. 

    - You’re whining, Stan. 

    - Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I have this patient, keeps complaining that he has an infection but there’s no markers. 

    - Hey man, I specialised in tropical diseases. Probability is, it’s not that. Why don’t you ask Y/N? She’s a microbiologist and you love to go over to see her.

    - Really, Mackie? 

    - You can ask someone else but you and Y/N like each other so much. Maybe she’ll give you a kiss if you get it right.

     - Thanks for nothing, Mackie.

     - Hey, maybe if you and her start dating, the upstairs and the downstairs people will finally have a peace alliance. 

Back to the microbiology laboratory it was. He couldn’t even remember what the two of them had started bickering about, but he knew it was around the time she had first started at the hospital. It wasn’t that she wasn’t smart, god no, Sebastian knew she was smart and completely capable and probably the reason why she had become a senior scientist quite fast; however, she was extremely argumentative and whenever she had to assist in one of his cases, they always ended up arguing. To be honest, she did look quite adorable whenever she was fuming at him, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and pointing aggressively at the results.

   - STAN! LAB COAT! - he was taken from his thought by the same woman throwing a laboratory coat on him. - I will report you to the board if you keep walking into my lab without a lab coat on.  

   - I need your help.

   - Okay. - she opened one of the various drawers in the laboratory, taking three bottles and placing it on the table in front of her. - It’s very simple. Yellow for paediatric, red for anaerobic and green for aerobic. Paediatric means child, anaerobic means no air, and aerobic means air. 

   - Seriously, Y/N? I know what it means.

   - Do you? - she cocked an eyebrow at him. - Don’t worry, we got the samples right these time. I have someone working overnight so you’ll have your precious results. Besides, it is probably negative. Looking at the sheet doesn’t really scream bacteremia. It might just be a localised infection which has the potential to become bacteremia. Unless it’s an AMR case, it’s probably no fuss. 

    - Great. It’s not that I need help with though.

    - Can’t you do your own job, Dr. Stan? 

    - 40 year old male, complaining of infection like symptoms but no markers. - he handed her the file which she skimmed through.

    - Did you check for CRP? White blood cell count?

    - White blood cell count is slightly high but not in a way which would really indicate an infection. Know of anything like that?

    - I can run some tests but I don’t really know. - she shrugged. - Have you asked Dr. Mackie? Patient been in any tropical locations?

    - He told me to ask you. 

    - Aw so even he knows that you suck at being a doctor? 

    - You know what, Y/N? You would be cute if you weren’t so argumentative. 

    - Don’t try to butter me up, Dr. Stan. I will ask around my colleagues, see if anyone has any idea before dinner time and then I’ll let you know.

    - Are you asking me for dinner?

    - Yes, because having dinner in the green light cafetaria with you is totally my idea of romance. I mean, why  not take me here now in this table?

    - Now, Miss Y/L/N, that’s is against health and safety protocols. You should know. 

    - Do they not teach you sarcasm in med school?

    - We’ll talk about it during our dinner date.

    - It is not a dinner date, I’m just giving you data.

    - It’s a date. I’m telling everyone.

    - Don’t you dare!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan au #doctor!sebastian stan

[libermachinae]

Night Shift

Also on AO3! Summary: Prowl and Jetfire analyze leads on a Decepticon smuggling operation, working together late into the night trying to find the missing connections. A sleep deprived slip of the tongue leads Prowl to revisiting old choices. Word Count: 2146

---

Prowl didn’t keep track of his chronometer this late in the night. Morning was inevitable, and he knew he could rely on a burst of messages from Orion to let him know when it had arrived. As such, he had no idea what hour it was when Jetfire broke through the productive silence.

“How did you come up with these predictions?” Jetfire asked. Worst of all, he was speaking with his mouth full, apparently too incensed by Prowl’s logic train to be bothered with common decency. “Every gun you’ve pulled in has been running on fumes; I’ve had to scrape the insides of the barrels just to figure out what they’re fueled on.”

The impressive thing about Jetfire was that even as a voice over the comms, he sounded like the biggest bot in the room. It wasn’t just that his voice was deep; Orion, who wasn’t that much taller than Prowl, had a voice you could feel through the floor panels. It was something about the way Jetfire talked, deliberate and straightforward, rarely stuttering even when caught off-guard. It was refreshing.

“I’ve outlined the logic process in my report. I won’t be repeating it,” Prowl said, scrolling back through his files.

“What are they teaching in the enforcer academy that reports don’t need to communicate anything?” Jetfire grumbled

It would be a reasonable estimate to say they spent 50% of these near nightly calls complaining about their targets, their coworkers, and the administration, and another 40% about each other. Prowl sat through them strictly as a matter of convenience, being a faster mode of communication than the intermittent data bursts preferred by the sanctioned enforcer agencies.

Having someone at the other end of the line also assisted the rust sticks and nucleon microcubes in staving off recharge protocols.

“It’s as I explained to Tumbler: it communicates everything I intended it to.” Ideally, very little to anyone who couldn’t have worked it out themselves. That way, the important information stayed with those who could actually use it, and the rest—

“Who’s Tumbler?”

Prowl lost his train of thought as the rest of his processor caught up to what the .5% he reserved for conversation had said. He froze, rust stick halfway to his mouth.

“No one,” he said.

“Okay.” Jetfire drew out the word. “Did he buy that line?”

No, of course not. Tumbler was always relentless about that sort of thing. His curiosity and drive could have lent to the makings of a detective or captain if he’d dedicated them more often to investigations and less on critiquing Prowl.

“He was young and failed to grasp the necessity of efficiency in our line of work.” Prowl had tried to be patient, but he’d been young too, and Tumbler was the first partner he’d had who would listen to him. Even if it was just to argue that Prowl’s opaque writing was the cause of their inefficiency.

“Hmph.”

Jetfire liked to intersperse their conversations with meaningless noises, and although Prowl needed more samples before he was certain of his explanation, he believed they meant Jetfire didn’t agree with something he’d said but was ending the discussion prematurely. It was illogical, leaving a matter unsettled for which a solution existed, but normally Prowl’s priority queues were ordered such that work came before ideological disagreements.

“What?” he asked, finally setting down the rust stick.

“You’re normally terrible with names,” Jetfire said without hesitation. “I’m just trying to imagine what a bot would have to be like to leave that much of an impression on you.”

“He was talented,” Prowl admitted.

“Do you keep in touch?”

“No.” Prowl straightened his back and flared his sensory panels, ready to move on. “It was not a practical partnership. Being together diminished our respective abilities and prevented us from fulfilling our responsibilities. It was for the betterment—”

“Hey, hold on, Prowl,” Jetfire said, his rolling voice enough to draw Prowl up short. “I know that you—but, you know what that sounds like, right?”

Prowl frowned, immediately recognizing Jetfire’s social theory tone.

“Pragmatism,” he said. “We can’t have everything we want in an ordered society. I—we did what Cybertron needed of us.”

“By disposing of a part of yourself?”

Tumbler hadn’t liked that explanation either.

“We weren’t conjunx.” And for very good reason. There were more important things in life than feelings or fleeting commitments, and it was idealists like Jetfire who—

“Just because it didn’t have a name doesn’t mean it wasn’t important.”

Prowl’s thoughts stumbled. He hadn’t expected Jetfire to say that, not because it was out of character but because he was right. That was the exact sentiment Prowl had tried to put to words maybe half a dozen times and now it was being turned on him like a spotlight.

“There are things that should never be sacrificed,” Jetfire went on. Prowl felt his silhouette thrown into sharp relief. “Things we’re worse off for letting go of.” He paused. “A while ago, I was made an offer: instant entry to the academies. No exams, no fees. Everything I’d ever wanted. In return, though, I would’ve had to give up my wings. My… sponsor, I guess, knew I had the processor for science, just not the frame. They asked for me to give up one part of myself to let the rest go free.”

Prowl shook his helm, leaning away from the speaker. Jetfire’s tone was the same one he occasionally used with Bumblebee. With Prowl, he was hard edges and warning lights. They weren’t this for each other. They didn’t do this.

“You were nearly the victim of a scam,” he said, searching blindly for familiar ground.

“I’m sure it seems that way,” Jetfire said, unperturbed. “Do you get it, though? Giving up any one piece would’ve meant tacit agreement with the Functionists, that I wasn’t fit to do my work in any form but what they prescribed. Even if I’d told myself it was for Cybertron, it really would’ve been a sacrifice in their honor, and nothing would ever be worth that.”

Prowl wasn’t entirely obtuse. He understood what Jetfire was saying, but he couldn’t afford to hear it, not with everything he had already done and the plans he had yet to set in motion. Maybe Jetfire had found a way to live that allowed him to maintain his idealistic commitments, but most mechanisms weren’t so lucky. Everyone had to give up something.

“And now you’re here, working on behalf of the Senate,” Prowl said, just to prove that point.

Jetfire made his noise again.

“Right, I forgot,” he said. Annoyed or frustrated: the usual feelings they brought out in each other. “Waste of time. Forget I said anything.”

Prowl wouldn’t, but he also wasn’t going to give Jetfire an excuse to keep pontificating.

It would have been a waste of their time, anyhow, because however sincere Jetfire was in his admission, Prowl had never understood the hypocrisy of bots who would claim to reject Functionism while maintaining an almost fanatical devotion to their frames. In some intangible sense, maybe he did enjoy the opportunity to go for a long drive, but he couldn’t imagine himself grieving his tires for their own sake. He tried to compare it to what he had felt when Tumbler had said going to Kaon was a selfish, pretentious idea and immediately recoiled.

“Results are exactly what I told you,” Jetfire said. Prowl realized he hadn’t gotten any work done in the last several kliks. “Not nearly the concentration of materials to support your theory the Decepticons have contacts in Uraya, and a few that will probably trace back to Kaon, like everything else.”

“I’d like to see for myself,” Prowl said, standing. He didn’t often get this badly distracted, and it was easy to pin it on the state of his desk: used energon cubes and wrappers from the cheap snacks he kept fueled on littered the spaces he should have been using for case notes and displays. When was the last time he’d cleaned?

“Really?” Jetfire asked. “The data’s pretty clear.”

“Humor me.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?”

Neither said goodbye before they hung up: another of their customs.

Prowl cleared the mess into the trash. Exhaustion was nibbling at his processor like a corrosive. Another couple shots would get him through his morning meetings, and then a regular midday fueling would carry him over until he could recharge properly in the evening. Before that, though, the day had to begin, an event he discovered was closer than he’d expected when he stepped outside and saw the horizon just tilting toward the pale blue of an oncoming dawn.

The air was gentle, the pleasant cool that foreshadowed a blistering day. Jetfire was a dot over the Rodion skyline. Prowl glanced up at the few stars that could punch through the light pollution and was reminded, suddenly, of the time he and Tumbler had discussed getting a little patch of metal out on the Tungsten Moors. The barren sparkfields had felt nonetheless fertile with possibilities, and they had gotten hung up on whether it would be more practical to live in a house with two stories or just one. It had been a fantasy, nothing more; even on their joint income, it would have taken millions of years to save up. But there had been something, if not fulfilling, thrilling about it, making plans that didn’t hinge on work or promotions.

He wondered if Tumbler remembered that conversation.

Jetfire’s slow approach gave Prowl time to dwell while keeping an idle optic on his teammate. There was nothing spectacular about Jetfire’s flying: Prowl had worked with and chased down fliers who were faster, more maneuverable, and flashier in every way. But there was something resolute and sure about the way Jetfire coasted, a steadiness that Prowl would have appreciated sooner if he’d noticed it, his thoughts of Tumbler and past mistakes and pointless sacrifice sliding away as he watched Jetfire’s flight.

Jetfire’s flying was beautiful, in its own way. Its understatement reminded Prowl of his own assembly line colors, but with an underlying confidence that left Prowl feeling inadequate. Though technically strong, his power was limited to what he could siphon off Orion and their other high-level contacts. He’d experienced a taste of the real thing under Sentinel, but that had been an especially tenuous connection, liable to snap had he ever tugged too hard. Jetfire’s power was all his own. Not overwhelming, not enough to make the changes Cybertron needed. Incomparable, really, to what Prowl had wielded. But it radiated from the tips of his wings to the burn of his thrusters, self-realized, without reservation or concession.

Prowl’s tac net pinged him with the results for a problem he hadn’t realized he’d plugged in: 50% Prowl should have been strong enough to find another way, 50% choosing Tumbler would have made him stronger.

A perfect 50-50 meant his systems were badly in need of defrag. He cleared the cache and set his tac net to reboot, shaking his helm to dispel the resulting vertigo as Jetfire landed on the steps below him. Prowl waited patiently for him to complete his mode switch, taking two steps back so they would be at optic level with each other.

“Pleasant flight?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t trade it for anything,” Jetfire said with a smugness that allowed Prowl to scoff as he motioned for the datapad.

Jetfire handed it over. Prowl knew he was being watched as he powered it on and reviewed its contents, but he took his time, using Jetfire’s results to run through a few warm up calculations as his tac net came back online.

“You didn’t check for copper fluoride,” he commented.

“No,” Jetfire said slowly, “because it wasn’t one of the compounds we were investigating.”

“Run the tests again.” Prowl tried to return the datapad, but Jetfire refused to take it. “The chances we would find evidence of materials native to the Urayan region were always slim to none. However, the old blackmarket pipeline between Kaon and Yuss ran directly underneath the city. Does that make more sense?”

Prowl saw the moment Jetfire finally saw the case as he did, a knotted web of deceptions meant to dissuade even the most seasoned detective from untangling its core. Jetfire took the datapad from Prowl and stowed it, though the hard look in his optics did not waver.

“Could’ve said that from the beginning,” Jetfire griped.

Prowl didn’t bother to respond. What was done was done. Talking so much about the past was a waste of time neither of them could afford, because for all that it might have mattered, nothing they said could change any of it. All they had was the future, and the possibility of starting each day stronger than they had the one before.

#finally remembered to upload! #maccadam #transformers #prowl #jetfire #my writing #oneshot

[orangefoxes]

Hey, so I've been trying to submit a prompt but it won't work so here it goes I know this will be sad but what if Neil gets really sad and depressed (the reason is up for interpretation ex: bullied by jack or is haunted by PTSD) and so he becomes full of self hate and becomes anorexic and cuts himself #andreil (this would mean so much since I've been through similar circumstances and was strong enough to pull through and keep living, this book and your Tumblr have helped me so much)

Hi @soph-ie21 I am so sorry this took a whopping 4 years for me to post. I’m terrible for not checking my inbox as my notifications have been turned off for tumblr since I was like 13. I’m so glad to hear that you recovered from your ED, you must be so strong and I’m so proud of you as I know how difficult that is to do. I’m hoping this is the sort of prompt you were looking for, if you’re even looking after this long, as it’s not very dialogue heavy, but here you go.

TRIGGER WARNING: EATING DISORDER, SELF LOATHING, ANOREXIA.

When in high stress situations, to cope, the brain releases a hormone called cortisol. It’s alright in small doses, helpful even. It triggers your fight or flight response and readies the body to do something, fast. Constant exposure to the hormone however, has some not so good long term effects. Effects that include, but are not limited to: high blood pressure, heart disease, type 2 diabetes, osteoporosis, and, arguably the mildest, weight gain.

Cortisol results in weight gain for two reasons. The first is because it slows your metabolism, and the second is because the drop in blood sugar from constant high blood pressure means that you start craving fatty, sugary foods, which leads to overeating. Neil’s memory is not nearly good enough for him to recall what foods he had craved over the years, but he and his mother shied away from sweets and chocolate for dental reasons, it probably would have been a hardship for many kids growing up but Neil had never much cared for sugar anyway. However, what he and his mother did indulge in is a lot of fatty, fast food. Partly because it was cheap, partly because it was something they could eat while on the move, and partly because no one would look twice at two sketchy people in a Burger King or remember a beaten up old car briefly pausing in a drive thru.

While never giving much thought to how he looked (short of checking for ginger roots and the bruise on his cheek from where his mother had slapped that smile from his face), Neil does remember his weight fluctuating a lot when he was younger. The more stressful the months, the chubbier he got. It was in the quiet periods as he and his mother settled down and didn’t dare to venture into the supermarket too often that he began to lose it again. It was a cycle.

In Millport, Neil was at his lowest weight yet. There was only a solitary McDonald’s in town and Neil wasn’t about to become a regular. He stocked up on tinned food from the supermarket in his first week in town instead and meticulously made his way through them, heating the can up on the hot plate he had bought for four dollars from the thrift store in the high street.

He gained weight again once he started at Palmetto, he gained muscle mass too. This, of course, was thanks to three free meals a day and a new training regime with daily exercise. It was to be expected, but if, perhaps, he gained weight quicker than his teammates and muscle slower, well, he had bigger things to worry about.

Then he knew he was going to live.

Then everything with the Moriyamas was…well, not gone, but resolved.

That’s not to say there was nothing to stress about. There was the influx of reporters wanting to catch the Foxes’ attention to ask about Nathaniel Wesninski. There was Kevin’s impending break down as Riko’s funeral came and went. There was Aaron’s trial. Honestly it probably would have gone as stressful situations for Neil always go - here and gone just as quickly - except it turns out that Nicky cooks when he’s stressed, and Neil, well, he’s a stress eater.

After Aaron is declared innocent, Nicky resumes as normal. Neil…not quite. He’s constantly opening the cupboards to look for something to eat only to close them again when he finds nothing of interest. Without Nicky cooking, there’s nothing he can easily dig into and Neil, while accumulating many skills over the years, had never been a hand in the kitchen. The only things ready-eat that were consistently in the dorm were ramen and ice-cream. Even the thought of ramen makes Neil want to vomit and Neil wasn’t so desperate that he would resort to eating something as sweet as ice cream. Not that Andrew would let him if he did. (Andrew wasn’t a sharer).

He started to feel hungry.

He was always hungry.

The first few days he started to skip meals, he didn’t even notice he was doing it. Surely he didn’t notice he was doing it.

It’s just -

Here’s the thing.

Maybe he stress eats. Maybe his mother did too. They spent long car journeys with a family sized bag of potato chips resting by the gear stick and they spent half the time stuffing handfuls into their mouths and the other half checking the mirrors for cars that stayed behind them a touch to long. So maybe he stress ate, but it was never because of hunger: it was because of craving. It was because it gave him something to do with his hands. It was only when things quietened down, when the weeks turned long with the monotonous almost-existence that took up the majority of Neil’s life growing up (here’s something no one tells you about life on the run, in between the moments of sheer terror, it’s very very very boring), it was only then, that Neil actually began to feel things like hunger.

So when the hunger pangs began to curdle in his stomach, well, he didn’t mind. It meant he was safe enough to feel the hunger.

Maybe for the first couple of days he didn’t notice it. But then he noticed it.

He noticed enough to avoid things like rice and bread. Danger foods that packed on the calories and that made him bite the inside of his cheek until it bled at the mere thought. He noticed enough that he began to watch the others train and saw their muscles flex and couldn’t help but track their muscle growth and measure it up against his own. He always found himself lacking.

That’s when it started to get worse. If Allison spent 20 minutes on the treadmill. Then Neil would do 30. If Kevin did 40 push ups. Then Neil would do 50. If Renee had a salad for lunch, then Neil would just have a fruit pot.

The first time Andrew noticed that he skipped a meal, Neil just blinked. Being who he was, Neil didn’t do stupid things like stumble for lies and this time was no different. When Andrew asked about him not eating Neil just blinked like he hadn’t even noticed until Andrew brought it up.

He blinked and said “oh, you’re right. I got so caught up in watching exy reruns i didn’t even notice”

He said, “thanks, I’ll grab something in a sec”

Andrew breathed a scoffing breath down his nose, rolled his eyes and called him a junkie. He didn’t look at all surprised, as though Neil was only confirming what he had already guessed. Which of course is the trick all good liars employ.

Neil wondered if he would be surprised if he were to find out how impossible it would be for Neil to forget a meal time. He could never forget. All he thought about was food. It was all he thought about.

Food began to feel like it was all he cared about. Cared about more than school. Cared about more than exy. Is it terrible of him that that more than anything else feels like the worst thing?

And then, as things do, it got worse.

It turned into Neil stood in front of the mirror (looking at his body but not his eyes, never his eyes) and pinching the flesh between his fingers. Noticing every part of him that didn’t harden into muscle like the others. Noticing all the scars that had stretched strangely over a waist and thighs that are no longer as small.

He begins to peck at his food. Rip it into tiny pieces. Andrew looks down at his plate and glowers at him. Neil gives him a cheeky grin. He knows what he’s thinking. That this is just another one of those Andrew-mannerisms that Neil is taking on for himself. Like the sarcastic salutes and the blank, waiting stares. It’s so much easier to hide how little you’ve eaten when it’s all in pieces.

He didn’t know how to explain it. He just knows he needs to be thinner. He needs to weigh less. It’s not about looks. It’s never been about looks. He just needs to do this. He needs to be smaller. It will be alright then. Because then…then…

Well it will be alright then.

So here’s the thing about guilt and self loathing: they’re useless emotions. Andrew would be quick to agree. (Though Andrew is a hypocrite and is chock full of the both of them). His mother would agree too. How many times had Neil slipped poison into someone’s drink, stole from someone just as desperate, shot someone who maybe or maybe-not deserved it? And how many times after that did his mother pinch and prod at him and repeat the same mantra of “don’t you dare let guilt slow you down, you slow down and you’re dead”

Well, Mum, he’s slowed down. He slowed down so much that he’s stopped altogether and guess what? He fucking hates himself.

He replays it all in his head like a terrible loop. The boy in Switzerland that he tricked into taking his jacket so His fathers men would go after him instead. The old women he and his mother tricked into housing them and then slipped something in her tea until she slept and never woke up again. The homeless man who had broken into the house they were squatting in that Neil had shot on instinct. Seth.

Seth. Seth. Seth.

He fucking hates himself. Honestly the hunger pains kind of feel like the best thing he’s ever felt after that. The pain, the ache, he deserves it.

Then it gets worse. Then comes the worst part.

Andrew’s meds change again. The others had begun to make him irritable and he always had an energy crash by about 5pm and a terrible headache. The new ones wouldn’t be of much note as they did nothing groundbreakingly different, short of getting rid of the headaches and not sapping so much of his energy.

Except for one key side effect of the meds.

They suppressed Andrew’s appetite.

More and more Andrew is missing meals. He won’t even eat more than a tablespoon of ice cream. Neil watches him and adjusts himself to suit. He doesn’t know why, but he just can’t be eating more than him, he can’t.

The frustration he feels about Andrew’s meds soon turn to resentment. He hates that he has to watch Andrew not eat and not seem affected by it at all. Andrew lessens his exercise under Betsy’s advice and yet nothing changes. His weight stays the same. He probably even loses some thanks to the loss of muscle. Neil watches and Neil hates. He hates that if he skipped out on training he would pack on the pounds, he hates that his stomach hurt and hurts and Andrew doesn’t spare a thought on food at all.

He starts to avoid the roof. He starts to dodge Andrew’s gaze the same way he does his own in the mirror.

The next time they’re alone and Andrew leans in, more hesitant than he’s been in months, Neil jerks back and snaps “No.”

It isn’t even completely because of the resentment. The majority of it is because he feels disgusting and fat and he can’t bare Andrew touching him right now. Can’t bare him looking at him.

Andrew’s face closes off and he slides back to the other side of the couch. He’s searching Neil’s face, trying to find the misstep, trying to find what he did wrong.

Good, let him think he did something wrong.

Now that’s the resentment.

It’s immediately one of the worst things Neil has ever thought. He remembers sitting, trembling, on the roof, Andrew refusing to touch him saying “I wont be like them, I wont let you let me be”

And Neil’s trying to make him think, wants to make him feel -

Jesus Christ. He’s a piece of fucking shit.

He slams his way out of the dorm and runs and runs and runs.

He sleeps in the locker room and slumps out in the morning so he’s first in the main room for the meeting with Wymack. He sits on a chair that’s as far away from every other seat as it can get while still completing the make do semi-circle around where Wymack usually stands. When the others begin to filter in they take in his new seat, but don’t comment when they see his storming expression.

When Andrew sees him he pauses for a beat in the doorway before continuing to his usual seat on the couch. He stares at Neil blankly, but his hands are clenching and unclenching in his lap. Wymack hesitates but doesn’t say anything. The others play at being uninterested and only Aaron openly looks between Neil and Andrew with a steadyingly darkening expression.

Neil slams his locker and gets changed in the cubicles for the first time in months. He’s vicious in practice. Throwing in as many dirty moves as he can. Andrew stands in the goal and does nothing. When it’s only Wymack’s sharp whistle that stops Neil bringing his racket down on Matt’s arm when he attempts to steal the ball, Neil is benched.

He yanks off his helmet and slumps down on the bench and tries to remember how to breathe through rage.

He’s sat, pinching at the skin on his thigh, for ten minutes before Allison joins him. She holds out a breakfast bar and Neil stiffens.

“Eat, it might help you stop being such a raging asshole,” she says.

Neil takes the breakfast bar and when she doesn’t immediately leave he opens it and snaps a bit off with his fingers.

He stares down the rolled oats and nuts and grimaces at the sticky feeling of the syrup that holds them together. He feels sick.

“Are you going to eat?” Allison says.

Neil looks at her and huffs a bitter breath through his nose. A wry smile pulls at the corner of his lips.

He remembers that Allison battled bulimia for years.

You can’t lie to a liar.

She looks at his face. Concern trying to become anger that she’s trying to force to stay concern. She looks at his face and then over at Andrew, who is stood in his goal watching them as Kevin shouts at him to fucking do something already. She looks back at Neil.

“You know, relationships are hard enough without mental health problems in the mix. Seth and I were a terrible combination for many reasons and that was one them. I’m not saying it can’t be done or that it shouldn’t be done, I’m just saying it makes it so much harder. He used to try to make me eat. I hated him for that. Hated that I had to hide my own habits in my own room. One day, after he stopped me from going to purge one too many times we got into an argument. I said some disgusting things to him. The next day he was in the hospital because of an overdose. He had to get his stomach pumped. You know what the worst thing is? I don’t even remember what it is I said. I don’t know if what I did triggered him or if it would have happened anyway, but it couldn’t have helped. You’re always going to trigger each other at one point or another, it’s unavoidable. But if you know that and you don’t do anything to help yourself…well that’s when every shit thing you think about yourself starts to become true. So tell me, are you a piece of shit that’s going to drag everyone down with you, or are you better than that?”

Neil looks down at the breakfast bar. He still can’t make himself eat it.

He swallows harshly against the lump in his throat. He has to swallow two more times until he’s sure he can talk without crying.

“What’s betsy’s number?” He asks.

Allison doesn’t smile, but she nods like he’s done the right thing and pulls out her phone.

SIDE NOTE: I’d like to point out that Neil is very flawed and toxic in his thinking and Allison is harsh in what she says to him just because she’s a harsh person. If you have an eating disorder I know sometimes help and recovery seems like the worst thing in world and something you really don’t want, but please, please seek help. You can do it.

#Neil josten #andrew minyard #Allison Reynolds #the foxhole court #andreil #all for the game #anorexia #eating disorder

[sasstrash]

Please forgive me I've been super focused on school

The Silent Queen 6; A Royal Morning

Raven woke up the same she always did - quietly. No one ever really noticed her until she was outside her room and hallway back in the castle but at school, people smiled and waved at her the second she left her dorm with Maddie. She guessed that the news of her arrival had spread and a lot of people wanted to know the daughter of the Evil Queen. Raven grimaced at the thought, she would have preferred not to be known at all. To just be a minor character in a smaller story. With a happy ending. But that wasn’t who she was, she was Raven Queen and this was her life.

Walking down the corridors to the castleteria was mostly uneventful aside from all the other students who continued looking at her and pointing things out. It was times like these that she wished she could hear. But then again she wasn’t sure how well she’d adjust to suddenly being able to hear. The castleteria itself is big and crowded with white lighting that made everything look brighter than what Raven was used to, many eyes looked over to her and Raven felt herself subconsciously tug at a lavender streak in her hair. This was going to be a long school year.

Cerise stood up and waved over at the pair of newcomers from her table where she sat with Cedar, Hunter, and a few girls who Raven vaguely remembered from yesterday who had been with that blonde- Apple, Apple White. The next Snow White, the one Raven would eventually have to poison. Raven stopped moving for a second at the thought of her destiny. Eyes wide she almost started to shake until Maddie lightly poked her shoulder, pointing to the castleteria’s food table. Raven straightened and followed her roommate and best friend to grab breakfast.

At home, she usually just walks into the kitchen. Chef made pancakes most mornings with berries from the nearby forest and honey on top. Raven always loved those pancakes, even if she had them almost every day. Raven quickly put a few slices of bacon on her plate smiling at the staff before grabbing some fruit salad and a couple of waffles and left to follow Maddie over to Cedar’s table. Most people moved out of the way to let the two girls pass through in order to get to their table. If Raven was being honest she had expected more students to run away from her when she arrived, and yet they all seemed to be completely enamoured by her. Weird. Maybe it was because she hadn’t shown up for regular school until this year, or because no one knew what she looked like (she avoided mirror phones and rarely left the castle grounds), or maybe none of them knew much about deaf people. Or maybe all three. By the time she and Maddie sat down, Raven was already exhausted, and she hadn’t even gone to class yet!!

‘Morning Rae, how was your first night at EAH?’ Cerise signed over to her childhood friend. Raven smiled at the nickname, Cerise had given it to her when they were about six, very soon afterwards Raven and Cerise began talking more over chats with their mirror phones as Cerise started elementary school while Raven began to be castleschooled. The two would work on video chats every now and again to keep sign language in Cerise’s vocabulary, (usually with a little help from Ramona too, but it’s not like they could talk about that it was a secret!) so the two stayed connected no matter where they were.

‘It’s been good Cher,’ another nickname that had come from their younger years ‘you know after the whole Headmaster situation me and Maddie set up our dorm. It was definitely different from the castle or your place’ Raven concluded before picking up her fork. She really was hungry after skipping dinner last night. As the others smiled at her she felt a warm fuzzy feeling wash over her, these were her friends, some through childhood, some through the others and they all loved her. She was loved, at least she was now but once she became, that she wouldn’t be. Her smile began to dim just a tad as she bit into her waffle. She shook it off before looking at the three girls she didn’t know the names of. ‘Oh sorry I almost forgot, I’m Raven, and you guys are?’ she asked the brunette in pink, the platinum blonde in white and the ginger with green eyes. Each one smiled at her as brightly as her friends, if not a bit brighter, they were probably princesses, Raven thought to herself before each one signed their names.

‘Briar Beauty’ The girl in all pink signed with slightly tired eyes. Raven immediately made the connection to the Sleeping Beauty Story, it took a lot for her not to frown, that was always such a sad tale, sleeping for a hundred years would mean losing the people she loved. Even still Raven could see that something else was turning in her mind, maybe she’d get to see what that was.

The ginger signed after ‘Ashlynn Ella it’s nice to meet you!’ she had the brightest smile that Raven had seen from the trio. Cinderella’s daughter her mind added in, another story with a happy ending but a tragic beginning, she couldn’t imagine losing both of her parents. Then again it was better than being imprisoned in a mirror, or being forced to dance in hot iron shoes until death, or being crushed by a boulder after falling off of a cliff. Raven’s thoughts were broken as she saw that Ashlynn was sitting very close to Hunter, who seemed to be completely focused on her, the dork had a crush, which seemed to be mutual. If Raven could speak well she would have laughed.

‘I’m Darling Charming but you can call me Darl for short’ The Platinum Blonde signed last as she gave a simple polite smile. Like the one that Raven had been taught to use for visitors and knights when she was younger. A female born Charming? She had heard of it before but it wasn’t common, most of them became small-time princesses with small kingdoms, or took over for the Charming Kingdom when the time came. It would be interesting Raven thought to see where her destiny leads her, after all, Darling definitely had the most open book story out of all of them.

‘It’s nice to meet all of you’ Raven signed before continuing ‘So.. has anyone gotten a schedule, I still haven’t’ It hadn’t been a big surprise to her though, she supposed no one had accounted for her deafness and they might have had to remake her schedule. After she mentioned it though she saw Cedar hit her head with her hand. “Ugh, I almost forgot,” she muttered to the group before pulling out a piece of paper. ‘Here Raven, I passed the headmaster and he asked me to give this to you, don’t worry he only had to reschedule two subjects!’ she finished passing the note over. Raven sent a grateful smile to her friend thank goodness for Cedar on the top of the paper a note was written with a schedule underneath. It read:

Dear Ms. Queen; first of all, I’d like to apologize for not being aware of this sooner, in the short time we’ve been given I was able to find some students to help you translate in each class. However, just in case most classes have an extra student who understands sign language. Below is your schedule, I hope you enjoy your time here at Ever After High.

Sincerely,

Headmaster Grimm

Breakfast: 6:30-8:30

Block one: Geografairy with Professor Jack B. Nimble (assisted by Cerise Hood) 8:45-9:30

Block two: Beast Training and Care with Professor Poppa Bear (assisted by Dexter Charming) 9:35-10:20

Block three: General Villainy with Professor Badwolf (assisted by Ramona Badwolf) 10:25-11:10

Block four: Math with Dr. King Charming (assisted by Ashlynn Ella) 11:15-12:00

Lunch: 12:00-12:45

Block five: History with Professor Rumpilstilskin (assisted by Madelyn Hatter) 1:00-1:45

Block six: Spellcasting and Potions with Professor Baba Yaga (assisted by Cedar Wood) 1:50-2:35

Block seven: Grimmnastics with Coach Gingerbreadman (assisted by Darling Charming) 2:40-3:25

Block eight: Art with Professor Card (assisted by Meshell Mermaid) 3:30-4:15

Dinner may be had at any time after this, as can counselling with Baba Yaga or Mother Goose. Lights out is at 10:30

Raven smiled at the schedule she only didn’t know two of the names on here. She was nervous to start her time at EAH but as long as she had good grades and a clear head she was sure she would do fine.

Notes:

I am really sorry this took so long, I kept forgetting about it because of school and COVID. btw if anyone knows how to make a master post and pin it could you please let me know? I would like to be able to do that. I also just got an AO3 account so I might post on there.

Taglist For The Silent Queen:

@virgil-is-a-cutie @justafanwarrior @bee-a-garbage-shipper @spicybelladonna @starrry-nites @tired-butterfly @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @themagicmistic @a-star-with-a-human-name @futursworld @pepelachanel @me-with-a-z-and-double-the-e @wolf-for-life

@iz-bell-saiah @thebookwormfairy @fantasiame

#raven queen #eah #ever after high #maddie hatter #cerise hood #brair beauty #ashlynn ella #darling charming #the silent queen

[randomposterofstuff]

Soldiers by Choice - Chapter VI

Author's Note: So, real life has been stressing me out immensely. Lol. And I really wanted to post this chapter as soon as I could, so please forgive me for any mistakes and any other problems. Haha. In any case, I hope that you all like it!

Also available on Archive of Our Own. Check my tumblr page to click on the ‘Archive of Our Own’ tab!

Tumblr Chapters List can be found here.

CHAPTER 6: Reasons and Apologies

Summary: Mikasa and Levi encounter troublesome Military Police officers while doing a supply run. Meanwhile, at the Cadet Corps headquarters, Eren Yeager and Jean Kirstein have another confrontation.

Year 847 (5 months later)

---

“Tch. They’re out of bleach.”

Levi glares at the empty row of shelves where jars of commercial bleach usually would be. A few feet away to his left, Mikasa speaks with the shop owner.

“Mr. Gale, I don’t understand. Section Commander Hange told us that you usually have stocks of everything during this time of the month.”

The Titan-scientist and Moblit were on the supply pick-up rotation for the current month. But since they were away on another observation expedition with the Research division, the task had fallen to the two Ackermans.

Mr. Gale, an aging man in his early 50s, clasps his hands apologetically. “I’m sorry, Captain. But due to some issues with our supplier, we won’t have stocks until next month.”

The dark-haired woman sighs at the news. “I see. We will just have to make do with an alternative and the other supplies.”

After a few more words and apologetic gestures from the shop owner, she approaches her co-captain, who is still glowering at the vacant racks.

“They won’t restock until next month.”

His frown deepens. “How the hell are we supposed to properly clean without bleach?”

Mikasa cracks a small smile at his displeasure over the absence of the cleaning agent. In the back of her mind, she muses that even after three years of working together, she still finds his pseudo-obsession with cleanliness to be comical to the point of disbelief.

“We can make our own cleaning formula.” She says. “The store has the necessary ingredients, and the budget is enough to cover them.”

The tautness in his jaw relents at this. “You know how to make bleach?”

She nods. “I do. My mother created her own cleanser. The employees at our estate use it.”

His eyebrows raise in mild surprise. “I didn’t know the Azumabitos also dealt in the cleaning business.” He remarks wryly.

She shifts her eyes from side to side before taking a step closer. "It's a closely guarded family secret." She whispers mock-conspiratorially.

He smirks. “Your secret is safe with me.” He speaks in a similarly hushed tone, and she mirrors his smirk.

---

After perusing the store for the needed ingredients, the two officers help the elderly shop owner place all their purchased supplies in eight wooden crates.

“That’s everything.” Mr. Gale comments as he places the lid on the final crate. “I’ll call my boys to help you load them on your cart.”

“There’s no need for that.” Levi says, already readying himself to lift some of the boxes. “We can handle it.”

The proprietor laughs good-naturedly. "Come now, Captain Levi. I know that you’re ‘Humanity’s Strongest Soldier’ and that Captain Mikasa is the ‘Woman Worth a Hundred Soldiers”, but you can’t rea---”

He cuts himself off when the two Ackermans each lift four boxes with little effort.

Mikasa shifts the crates so that she faces the shop owner properly. "Mr. Gale, you've already received the payment from our budgetary officer, correct?"

The older man merely nods, his mouth still agape in shock at the display of inhuman strength.

“We’ll be on our way, then. Thanks, old man.” Levi states, unfazed by the reaction.

The warm afternoon sun greets them as they exit the shop. The commercial area of Trost is filled with chatter from the mass of patrons. Due to the crowded streets, they had to leave their wagon at a fairly secluded area some ways away from the store.

When they finally arrive at where they parked, the crowd has thinned considerably. The few people there are either entering or exiting the complex. The two are in the process of loading the crates onto the cart when they hear the sound of glass breaking, followed by a frightened yell to their right.

They turn their heads to the source see to see a small saloon. One of its front windows is covered by pull-down drapes, while the other one is unobscured. Through the glass of the second one, the co-captains see a middle-aged man and woman, presumably the owners, anxiously speaking to two Military Police officers.

“Whaddaya mean we have to pay?” An MP with light hair slurs loudly while gripping a long-necked bottle.

The woman, who looks to be in her early 40s, attempts to explain. “Sir, you’ve consumed more than two bottles already.” She says, wringing her hands together nervously. “And our store ---”

“Blah!” The other MP, a man with darker hair, sways as he unslings his rifle from his shoulder. Both the woman and her partner take a step back, visibly terrified. “We serve the kingdom!” He yells. “You lot should be grateful! Besides, your stuff tastes like shit!"

He unsteadily aims his rifle at a row of bottles behind the counter while his companion laughs. “You’re right, Ricky!” He shouts, smashing the bottle he was holding against the floor.

The one called Ricky guffaws. "Damn right, I'm right, George!" Slightly swaying, he disengages the safety lock. “I’ve been wanting to try this beauty out! They say this thing can shoot 15 bullets in a row after just one click!” Just as he is about to place his finger on the trigger, he is suddenly struck across the head. The impact of the attack causes him to drop his weapon.

“Ricky!” George makes to unsling his own rifle but barely has time to react before a heavy boot hits him in the stomach. He faintly registers his gun being snatched from him before he is thrown across the room and roughly crashes onto a table and some chairs. One second later, Ricky lands beside him with a loud thud.

They both groan for a moment before raising their heads and seeing the profiles of two other soldiers in the area where they had been standing before. “Hey!” George yells while unsteadily getting up. “What gives?!” He demands, face flushed with both embarrassment and alcohol. “Who are you anyway?!” He trains his glazed-over beady eyes at their assailants.

Levi narrows his eyes, not the least bit intimidated. “You were harassing innocent civilians.” He crosses his arms, leveling him with a look of disdain. "Taxpayer money is wasted on pigs like you.”

“They’re from the Survey Corps!” Ricky exclaims, pointing to the Wings of Freedom on the fronts of their jackets. “You two have got some nerve!” He glares, eyes glassy with inebriation. “Accusing us of wasting taxpayer money when you ---”

Mikasa quietly raises his rifle at him, causing him to cut himself short. Both MPs freeze at the movement.

“P—put that down and g—give it back!” Ricky demands, voice shaking.

Mikasa shifts her gaze from the anxious Military Police officers and to the firearm in her hands. She examines its long sleek frame and swipes her thumb over the grip.

“It saddens me to see that my father’s guns were used to frighten defenseless civilians.” She comments out loud, her tone a cross between pensive and disappointed.

George’s brows scrunch up in confusion at her statement. “Huh?!” The two MPs look at her dumbly, trying to comprehend the meaning behinds her words.

Meanwhile, Levi picks up the second rifle from the floor, ignoring the whimpers from the two pigs. He feels the gun's weight in his hands and notes that it is light compared to other models. He then places his thumb on the butt of the rifle and runs it over the engraved encircled cursive 'A' which serves as the insignia of Lord Mikhail Ackerman's gun manufacturing company. He muses that the emblem looks similar to the Azumabito clan symbol on the inside of Mikasa’s wrist.

“If it’s any consolation,” he begins, still looking at the rifle, “I think that your father did a great job with this gun, Mikasa.” He remarks almost idly.

“Thanks, Levi.”

“Levi? Mikasa?” George repeats their names, a hint of recognition in their slurred tone. “Mikasa… Mikhail A—“. Shock settles on his features as they finally connect the dots. His eyes further widen in realization when they shift to Levi. “… Ackerman.”

“You’re Levi and Mikasa Ackerman!” George exclaims, lips trembling. At his exclamation, Ricky’s mouth drops open as sweat starts to form on his brow. The two men nervously shift their eyes between the co-captains – panic and recognition clearing away the drink-induced glazes in their eyes.

“I mean, my lord and lady!” George suddenly bows at the waist. His companion scrambles to do the same. “Our apologies! We didn’t recognize you!”

Levi’s jaw clenches at their sycophantic gesture. “Tch. Do not call us those.” He hisses. “And quit your groveling.”

They straighten themselves instantly at the vitriol in his voice. “My lord?” One of them squeaks.

Mikasa takes a sharp breath. “We’re not at the royal court.” She states, an edge to her voice. “Furthermore, we’re acting in our capacities as officers of the Survey Corps. So, if you’re going to address us, do so accordingly.”

“Yes, my la---, I mean, Captain!” The same MP yelps. “We’re sorry!”

Mikasa narrows her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “You’re clearly not genuine.” She speaks coldly. “And it appears that the likes of you get your bravado from carrying my father’s guns. Perhaps I should tell him to terminate his weapons provision contract with the Military Police.”

“Please don’t!” They both plead simultaneously, alarm in their voices. Clearly frightened of the consequences should they be the cause of the loss of the contract. “This won’t happen again!”

The disdain in her dark grey eyes indicates that she is not convinced. “I don’t believe you.” Mikasa then grips that rifle’s ammunition magazine. “So, I’m going to take these.”

Following her lead, Levi makes to do the same with the rifle in his hands. “I’ll take care of this one.”

Once he’s done, Mikasa holds out a hand, and he gives her the second rifle. She throws the weapons at the feet of the two MPs. “Take those and leave.” She commands, voice near imperious. “And don’t forget to put your payment on the counter.”

The two men do as they are told. They wordlessly take the ammo-less rifles and practically empty their wallets onto the counter before leaving the saloon with their heads bowed.

Once they were out of sight, the two Ackermans turn to the shop owners, who had been silently watching the exchange from the sidelines with bated breath.

“We’re not from the Military Police.” Levi states plainly. “But all the same, we’re sorry for the trouble they caused.”

The middle-aged man shakes himself from his daze. “Oh, please! You have nothing to apologize for!” He says, a nervous but sincere smile on his face. “In fact, my wife and I should thank you, my lord and lady!” His eyes then widen at his slip of tongue. “I’m sorry, I mean---”

Mikasa raises her hands in a calming gesture. “It’s alright.” She assures him with a smile.

The man’s tension eases, relieved at her assurance.

“Thank you so much, Captains.” His wife steps forward, wearing a bright and grateful smile. “May we offer you something to eat and drink?”

“Oh, we ---” Mikasa begins, about to politely decline.

“It’s on the house!” The husband insists. “It’s the least that we could do for you! We insist.”

Mikasa observes their smiling and amiable expressions before turning to Levi. She lifts her brows, and he gives a slight shrug before taking out his pocket watch.

“I suppose we have time before we need to get back to headquarters.” He comments.

The shop owners beam at the response. “Wonderful! I’m Tim Briles, by the way, and this is my wife, Frances." Tim introduces himself and his wife. “Please, have a seat. The menu is by the counter. Order anything you want!”

"Sure." Levi replies, and he turns towards the turned-over tables and chairs. “I’ll fix the tables and chairs. I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Noted." Mikasa states as she makes her way to the counter. She peruses the menu and, after a minute of deliberating, settles on a sandwich platter and chamomile tea. She vaguely wonders if the tea selection is meant for customers with hangovers.

After an enthusiastic Frances takes their order, she makes her way to Levi, who has just finished righting the disarray of furniture. As she approaches, her co-captain suddenly pulls out a chair and gestures for her to sit.

Mikasa looks at him questioningly, and he tilts his head towards the offered chair.

She decides to play along. “How very gentlemanly of you.” She jests, voice half-coquettish as she moves to sit.

“Only for you, my lady.” He drawls as he pushes the chair in for her.

They both snicker at the mocking references to their noble backgrounds.

“So, what are we having?” He asks as he sits from across her.

“Tea and sandwiches.” He raised a brow at ‘tea’, and she smiles. "I know; I was also surprised to see it on the menu.”

Levi hums. “In any case, it’s too early for liquor.”

A few minutes pass, and Frances approaches their table with their food and drinks. “Here are your orders. Enjoy!”

The co-captains both thank the female shop owner, and they split the sandwiches and tea between themselves.

Comfortable silence ensues as they eat their sandwiches. Levi muses that the saloon’s turkey sandwich is quite good. He takes a look at the sandwich in Mikasa’s hand and deduces from the green poking out from the bread that it’s full of vegetables.

After he finishes his food and begins stirring his tea, a random realization suddenly occurs to him.

“Something wrong?” Mikasa asks, noticing the contemplative furrow of his brow.

“No.” He replies, taking out the spoon from his cup and gripping it by the rim. “It’s just that I realized you actually used the ‘I’m going to tell my daddy’ card.”

Mikasa blinks at the remark. A beat of silence passes before she bursts into laughter.

Her shoulders slightly shake as hearty chuckles flow from her. She laughs in earnest at the absurdity and the truth of the statement.

Levi’s lips curve upwards at her open display of mirth, observing how her usually stern eyes crinkle at the corners and how genuine joy shines through her typically reserved expression.

“I’m sorry.” Mikasa says, still giggling as she adjusts her cravat around her neck. “You’re right, but it’s just so ridiculous.” She remarks, her smile wide. “Come to think of it, I’ve never used it before.” She muses out loud, her lips still twitching.

“At least you used it for a good cause.” He quips, sharing in her amusement.

She chortles at his joke. He also lets out an amused sound.

She eventually sobers down, though a small smile still remains on her lips.

But after a moment, her eyes suddenly become downcast, and her smile disappears.

Levi frowns in concern at the abrupt change in her demeanor. “What’s wrong?”

She takes a breath before directing her gaze towards the afternoon sky beyond the saloon’s window.

“Moments like this…” she speaks quietly as she raises her hand to gesture at their light-hearted conversation, “…don’t come by often.” A sad gleam then enters her eyes. “In a way, it’s… sort of unsettling.”

Levi’s lips press into a firm line at the reality of her words. Every soldier in the Survey Corps knows that every encounter with the Titans could be their very last. Danger, risk, and bloodshed are their constant companions. And the absences of the comrades lost will always be felt by those who live to join the next expedition.

The survivors know that it is their duty to honor the sacrifices of the fallen by carrying on with their mission. Yet, this knowledge hangs heavy over the heads of those who remain standing.

“I know what you mean.” He says, voice solemn. “Enjoying a moment of peace can be hard sometimes, considering the things we go through.”

They remain quiet for a while, the atmosphere suddenly tenser. Mikasa closes her eyes and sighs before speaking again.

“Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like right now if I had stayed in the Capital or joined the clan’s Elite Royal Company.” She stares intently into her cup of tea, wistfulness underlying her tone. “I would probably be promenading with the other nobles in the parks. Or patrolling the grounds at the Fritz castle. Either way, my life would be simpler and less daunting."

A flash of resolve then enters her gaze. “But I already made my choice a long time ago.” She declares with a quiet certainty in her words. “And I’ve chosen to be a soldier for the Survey Corps.”

Levi quietly observes her profile. She sits with the graceful posture of a noble lady – a result of her upbringing. But her shoulders are squared with a soldier’s discipline. She holds her teacup delicately, but her fingers are calloused from years of wielding blades. Had she chosen differently, she could have been a socialite hostess.

The passing thought then prompts a question. “Why didyou join the Survey Corps in the first place?”

Mikasa half-smiles at that. It was a question she was often asked – the daughter of a noble joining any of the military branches was unheard of. Although, she never divulged anything apart from saying that she merely wanted to.

“I could ask you the same question, Levi.” She prompts back.

For all his fame, no one has ever known of his reason for joining the Survey Corps. Not surprising, since he would always brush off anyone who asks by telling them that it’s none of their damn business.

But Levi decides that he wouldn’t mind making an exception for her. “I’ll share if you share.”

Mikasa hums as if contemplating the proposition. “Fair enough.”

A moment passes before she continues. “I joined because of my Asian heritage.”

He raises a brow in confusion. But stays silent and waits for her to elaborate.

“The Azumabitos are the last Asians in the world.” She explains. “Our clan’s records state that our ancestors’ homeland, Asia, was full of rare creatures and mysterious fauna. Unfortunately, just like every other continent, it was invaded along with the rest of humanity by the Titans.”

“My parents gave me everything I needed while growing up. But they taught me that if I wanted something, then I should work to earn it.” Mikasa pauses as her lips twist wryly. “And since I wanted to see the roots of my Asian heritage, I decided as a child that I would join the Survey Corps to help eradicate the Titans.”

“It’s silly.” She remarks, more to herself, amused at her younger self’s reason. “But it’s what prompted me to enlist.”

Her expression then becomes more pensive, and she redirects her gaze to the table between them. “But after my first expedition, I realized that there are things which are bigger than my wants. I suppose you could say that it opened my eyes. Seeing first-hand the dangers and struggles made me understand the weight of the Corps’ mission.”

She looks up at him again. “I still want to see Asia…” she admits with a bashful look. “… and if we can eradicate the Titans during my lifetime, then I’ll be to do that.”

“But even if that won’t happen, I won’t have any regrets about joining the Survey Corps.”

With that, she concludes her piece. Levi remains quiet for a moment, feeling astounded and moved at the revelation.

“I’m glad that you joined, Mikasa.” He says softly.

She smiles at his remark. “Thank you for saying that.” A tinge of levity then enters her dark orbs. “Now, I believe it’s your turn to share.”

Levi tsks, but there’s mirth in the slight quirk of his mouth. “I suppose a deal’s a deal.”

He swirls the contents of his teacup before speaking. “When I was a kid, my great grandfather would always preach about upholding the clan’s tradition of being the Crown’s ‘Sword and Shield’.” He drawls out the last two words.

“Just like you and everyone else in our clan, I was trained to be the best fighter possible – because, of course, the royal family only expects the best to protect it.” He pauses to take a drink.

“Sure, it’s natural for the royal family to have protection.” He concedes. “But our clan’s talents are being wasted. The biggest threats are out there beyond the Walls, and our clansmen use their many years of special training to deal with problems that the Military Police pigs are supposed to handle.”

Levi lifts his gaze to hers. "So, I said to myself, ‘to hell with tradition’.”

She lets out a small laugh. “Of course, you would say something like that.”

He smirks before taking another sip. “So, I decided to enlist in the Survey Corps. Thankfully, my uncle became head of the clan even before my rite of passage. And since he isn’t as uptight and prissy as my great grandfather was, he let me go without much of a fuss. I wanted to put my skills to better use. And what better way to use them than to reclaim the lands stolen by the Titans from humanity?”

“And after everything I’ve seen…” he trails off, a more somber and pensive look in his eyes as he stares at his cup, “…I’m now surer than ever that I made the right choice.”

A quiet second passes before Mikasa speaks. “That’s very noble of you.” She says, her voice earnest.

Her co-captain snorts out a harsh laugh. “If it were anyone else, I’d say that they were kissing my ass.”

Remembering the incident with the two MPs earlier, she likewise smiles in good humor; his words can’t be any truer.

“But since it’s you…” his harsh smirk morphs into a gentler smile, “… thanks.”

Her smile remains as their eyes meet again.

“You know, it’s odd…” she begins off-handedly, “We’ve known each other for years, but this is the first time we talked about something like this.”

He raises a brow. “Is it? I wasn’t aware that there was a standard timeline for sharing things.”

Another light laugh escapes her, and Mikasa wonders if Levi realizes how humorous he can be at times.

---

Chatter fills the air of the communal dining hall of the Southern Division’s Cadet Corps Headquarters – with the main source of noise and talk being the long dining table where Eren Yeager sits with his friends.

“Eren, what you did was really cool!”

“Yeah, I don’t think that anyone else here would’ve been able to do that!”

From his seat at another table at the far right of the hall, Jean Kirstein watches as several trainees crowd around Yeager and pay him compliments for his incredible feat earlier this morning.

Connie sits across the green-eyed recruit with a wide grin on his face. “Eren, you were amazing earlier!” He exclaims. “Being able to balance yourself using defective equipment was incredible!”

Beside him, Sasha nods enthusiastically as she munches on a loaf of bread. She smiles broadly after gulping down her food. "You really did well, all things considered!" She exclaims while not so discreetly trying to take Connie's bread from his plate.

The shaved-headed boy snatches her wrist before she could lift the loaf to her mouth. “Oh, come on! You haven’t even finished your own bread!” He grumbles, exasperated as Sasha strains against his grip.

Eren chuckles at the display before scratching the back of his head with a sheepish expression. Even so, his green eyes seem to glow with pride and appreciation. “Thanks, guys.”

“Congratulations on a job well done, Eren.” Christa speaks from amongst the group that congregated around the table. “Your determination paid off.”

Eren's cheeks redden slightly at her smile. "Thanks, Christa. But I can't take all of the credit. Armin here gave me pointers, and Reiner and Betholdt told me to keep calm and not to give up." He then turns to the male blonde seated next to him. "Isn't that right, buddy?"

Armin’s lips quirk upwards. “It’s true that you got help, but all the work was you.”

“Armin’s right.” Reiner’s deep voice resounds from one side of the crowd. To his left, Bertholdt silently watches the interactions with a small smile. “At the end of the day, you were the one ultimately responsible for your success.”

Jean watches as more trainees give the brunette praises for his resolve and performance. It isn’t until he feels something nudge him in the side that he turns away.

“Just talk to him already.” Marco urges with a knowing look.

Jean scoffs at the comment. “Talk to Yeager? About what?”

Marco simply gives him a half-amused and half-exasperated smile. “You know what I mean.” He then picks up his glass of water. “It’s good that you want to apologize. It’s a mature thing to do.” He says before taking a drink.

Jean grumbles something unintelligible as he observes the sky through an open window. The last rays of sunlight are starting to fade behind the darkening sky. He can see some of their Commandant's assistant officers patrolling the grounds and inspecting the outdoor training equipment to ensure they're still working properly.

As his gaze lands on the row of 3DM gear simulators, Jean recalls how he, along with nearly everyone, laughed at Eren when he failed to steady himself using 3DM gear during his first attempt. He also remembers snidely commenting that Yeager was just "all talk and no bite" and how he brushed him off when he asked for pointers to improve.

Jean then sighs before getting up and walking over to the green-eyed recruit’s table.

---

Armin and Eren were in the middle of speaking with fellow recruits when the blonde sees Jean walking up to their table.

“Uhh… Eren?” He taps his friend on the shoulder.

At the prodding, Eren turns away from Mina and Thomas, who were standing behind him. His eyes narrow at the sight of Jean standing behind the other recruits surrounding their table. “What do you want, horse face?”

The entire room goes silent as everyone turns to Jean. The man in question averts his gaze as his cheeks flush at suddenly being the center of attention.

He stays silent for a moment before speaking. “I’m not here to fight.” He then finally raises his gaze to look at Eren. The crowd parts as he moves closer to the table.

Armin notes the sudden tension in the air as his childhood best friend stares at Jean with a cautious look – he deduces that Eren is not entirely convinced that Kirstein came in peace.

Jean halts when he’s near the edge of their table, just a couple of feet from where Eren sits. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I’ll be honest. I still think that going after Titans is stupidly dangerous.”

Eren's eyes further narrow at the remark. He rises to his feet, but Armin pulls at his arm before he can move towards Jean. "Hear him out first.” The blonde half-pleads.

Eren frowns but nonetheless sits back down. His eyes are still trained on Kirstein, who instinctively took a step back at his abrupt movement.

Jean takes another breath before continuing. “But I now get how serious you are.” He admits, voice quiet but clear. “You have real resolve, and I respect that. And I’m…” He pauses, his pride momentarily stifling his next words.

“… I’m sorry for making fun of you before.”

Some trainees gasp lightly while some simply stare – all surprised at his gesture. Armin sees that even Connie and Sasha have paused their food-related grappling to gawk at Jean. The blonde also quietly muses that the entire room probably half-expected another fight to erupt between the two boys. All eyes are now trained on Eren, who looks astounded with his eyes widened and mouth slightly agape.

Armin then lightly nudges his friend’s shoulder. “Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”

The question shakes the green-eyed trainee from his stupor. He blinks once before rising to stand – more calmly, Armin notes approvingly.

“Thanks, Jean.” The hardened look in his gaze is now gone. “I appreciate you saying that. Apology accepted.” He says with a small smile.

“And for what it’s worth…” Eren trails off as his eyes dart downwards, a hint of shame in them, “… I shouldn’t have scoffed at you for wanting to go into the Interior. After all, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be safe.”

He then looks directly at Jean again. “So, I guess I also owe you an apology.” He admits with a half-smile, hoping that it would lighten the mood.

It seems to have worked as Kirstein offers him a smile. “Glad to know that you can see things my way, Yeager.”

Eren grins more naturally at the response. “So… friends?” He asks, voice tentative as he holds out his hand.

Jean looks at the offered hand in surprise for a moment before observing the other boy’s expression. There’s a mix of uncertainty and apprehension in his countenance – possibly wary of how he would respond. But the look in Yeager’s eyes tells him that the offer of friendship is genuine.

He eventually grasps the hand offered to him. “Friends.” He says while giving it a firm shake.

There’s a smattering of applause as the crowd gives a slight cheer at the show of camaraderie. Armin especially claps heartily at the sight of the usually hot-headed Eren making peace with Jean even as he hears Connie yelp when Sasha takes advantage of the distraction to take a massive bite from the Springer boy’s loaf.

“Well, it’s nice that we’re all finally getting along.” Marco comments with a smile from the sidelines, hands still pressed together from clapping.

Jean sends a slightly annoyed look at Marco, who only continues to smile in return.

---

End Note: So, the 104th gang finally appears! Since Mikasa is a veteran in this story, I wanted to play a little with the dynamics of the 104th's relationships with one another. On this, I wanted Eren and Jean to have a friendlier relationship in this story than in canon. I hope that I was able to execute this idea (as well as all my other ideas) properly. Lol.

In any case, let me know what you think! Critiques and comments are most welcome!

#rivamika #levimika #levi x mikasa

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

101 Open MHA Gen Prompts

I had a very long ask game where people gave me fake titles and I came up with fic ideas to go with them.  Multiple people asked to use some of them as prompts, and some of my friends have lately maligned the lack of gen prompts out there, so I decided to compile them all into a single post.  Almost all of these are gen, aka not shipping, but you can do what you want I’m not your boss.  Everything is free and open to use WITH CREDIT, so have fun with my word vomit.

1. In Dreams I Had the Sun - Being the number one hero isn’t all it’a cracked up to be, Toshinori realizes early on

2. The Chainlink Fence that Held the Ocean - In his new book post-retirement, All Might opens up about his regrets, struggles with mental health, and his issues with the hero system as a whole.  The backlash is swift and intense.

3. Welcome to the Loud Silence - After an injury, Izuku is rendered deaf.

4. Water Since Turned Red - After a villain attack nearly kills All Might, the beach where Izuku used to go to find comfort now feels tainted.

5. all scrap left untouched is bound together - A group hero students who failed the provincial license exam for the third time, effectively ending their careers before they start, get together to take revenge on UA’s first years who beat them out.

6. You’ve saved more more times than you know - Times All Might saved people without his powers, just by being a cool, nice dude.

7. No Amount of Tragedy Can Justify Your Actions - A dying All for One tries to justify his centuries of cruelty to an uncaring Toshinori.

8. To Leave a Cage Locked - One for All is conscious and has a will of its own, one that doesn’t always line up with Izuku’s wellbeing.

9. Okay, who let in the Kraken? - Izuku is the reincarnation of an ancient eldritch horror.

10. keep us alive up above - Izuku and Shigaraki get trapped together somewhere.  Izuku knows he needs the villain’s help to survive and escape, but the other would rather they both die.

11. The world will revolve around me neither less - The ebbs and flows of AFO’s influence over the years.

12. More Roulette, Not Russian - Kids get their quirks swapped.

13. Patron Saints - Toshinori teaches a class about pre-quirk superhero comic characters and their influence.

14. Don't Come Back - Touya Todoroki’s first few weeks after a severe injury resulted in his father abandoning him.

15. The Blessed and the Fool - Toshinori meets up with a few of his ua classmates after retiring.

16. Not Your Sacrifice - Some of the other kids have started adopting some of Izuku’s self sacrificing habits and the teachers are concerned.

17. Break in the Storm - Villains use a power outage as an opening to break into ua.

18. One Day Those Consequences Will Finally Catch Up - Even though the teachers don’t take her concerns seriously, Inko saves every piece of evidence regarding people hurting her son.

19. a garden in their eyes - Izuku meets a fan who got injured after trying to step into a villain fight, just like he did, and it makes him question some things.

20. what could have been, if not for you - After Inko divorces him, Hisashi’s goes to the press to say All Might stole his wife and son.

21. Promised Misery - All Might finds out the severity of Bakugou���s bullying, and warns him he’s on thin ice with him.

22. Fly Up Higher, Blossom Brighter - Izuku has to write a paper for middle school about being positive, intercut with all the bullshit he has to deal with.

23. Libre Me from Hell - One of Izuku’s new quirks is spiral related.

24. No One to Blame but Yourself - Izuku’s kindness doesn’t extend to murderers, tragic backstory or not.

25. At Its Finest - Izuku accidentally gets involved in a hero commission coverup.

26. A Rising Issue - Izuku starts developing more severe side effects of his injuries.  He’s convinced he’s under the influence of a quirk, while the adults thing he’s finally gone too far hurting himself.

27. What you are in the Dark - Izuku usually keeps most of his anger to himself until he can’t.

28. nowhere to go - Inko moves into UA after their home was destroyed.

29. Something Without - My theory about the 2 OFA vestiges that are blurred out is they don’t approve of izuku as a successor.  Izuku tries to figure out why. 

30. Walking with a Ghost - Toshinori joins the OFA dreams while he’s in a coma.  He gets to reunite with nana, and is more open to Izuku about his past and feelings.  Part of his starts to wonder if it’s worth waking up, since he will die and join the others eventually.

31. Death By Crying - Izuku is affected by a quirk that will suffocate him if he expresses any emotion.

32. Justice is Subjective - The hero commission gets to Shigaraki before AFO does.  

33. Undo / Underdog - Death loop fic.  Izuku keeps reliving the day he met all might after being killed by the sludge villain.  he has to find a way to break the loop and survive, but he gets s little weaker every time he restarts.

34. Like Wildfire - A rumor that Izuku is All Might’s bio son picks up steam, and the characters have to decide whether to deny it but risk suspicion or play along and add a new layer to the lies protecting one for all.

35. Once Upon A December - All Might and Inko actually met in the past trope.

36. Some Legends Are Told - All Might’s first interview post-retirement.

37. Will The Real Mentor Please Stand Up - Aizawa considers himself the better teacher, but a lot of the kids seem to like All Might more.

38. I don't want the cure, I want the POISON! - Inko is killed in a hit and run, and Izuku becomes desperate to find the killer.

39. I will kill my heart before I dance on stage for these bigots - Izuku is interviewed as a rising star of UA, and the interviewer brings in some of his old bullies because they claimed to be his friends from middle school.  Izuku does not play along.

40. Split Ends - A quirk gives Izuku brief visions of what would have happened if he made different decisions.

41. Dreamless Sleep - A One for All dream leaves Izuku with a cryptic half-warning, and he desperately experiments to try and figure out how to trigger the visions to get the rest of it.

42. toxic flowers and pretty blades - Young Inko escapes the constricting life of her cruel wealthy family by becoming a vigilante.

43. The Suns we Orbit - Some of the other teachers believe Izuku is too codependent on Toshinori, and separate them for a time.

44. Submerged - Similar to those buried alive fics only someone’s in a box at the bottom of the ocean.

45. Deprive - Izuku also loses his stomach to an injury, and struggles to adjust to the necessary lifestyle changes.

46. The ashes fall like snow - Post Kamino cleanup.

47. Home will always be here - Inko cares for Izuku after he’s sent home due to “trouble at work study” but he refuses to clarify what that means.

48. Playing Favorites - A look at several times where Izuku was punished, while Bakugou got off scot free.

49. Elusive Dreams - Some kind of training or issue forces the kids to stay away for several consecutive day, and they start losing it.

50. Fracture - Izuku struggles through physical therapy after a severe injury that leaves his hero career in question.

51. Starlight, Starbright - Space cadet au

52. Someone in Your Corner - Gran Torino looking after Nana, Toshi, and finally Izuku through the years.

53. I cast magic missile into the darkness - Generic “the gang plays d&d” fic.

54. One Month At A Time - Izuku breaks a limb, and has to let in heal naturally over the course of several months.

55. Head Above Water - Izuku runs out of his pain meds and can’t get access to more doses for a while, so he has to endure not only the pain, but the withdrawal symptoms.

56. Are you going to leave a path to trace - All Might uses a new strategy to try and get Izuku to be less self sacrificial: what about all the young kids who are going to look up to him?

57. The View from Halfway Down - Izuku realizes that a risky move has just landed him with a potentially life threatening injury, but the fight it still going.

58. The Dust Bites Back - A villain All Might defeated early in his career is back and out for revenge.

59. The Absence of your Worth - Nighteye thinks he’s put together a rock solid case for why izuku isn’t worthy of One for All.  All Might’s response is to ask if he has something against quirkless people.

60. Behind the Screens Nobody is Afraid - All Might explains some of the context of his most popular hero videos to Izuku.  They are much more tragic than the media has spun them in hindsight.

61. Under the Light of the Moon - Someone gets turned into a werewolf.  And I ain’t talking the wattpad piss shit.  I’m talking full-on back-breaking monstrous transformations into a bloodthirsty abomination set to Bad Moon Rising.

62. some dreams were made to be broken - Bakugou crosses a line and finally gets expelled.

63. You Say You're Into Closure - Izuku finally beats Bakugou in a one on one fight fair and square, but Bakugou is a sore loser.

64. Something or Someone Missing - AU’s memories of Izuku get wiped, but those closest to him can’t help but feel an absence.

65. Too Little Too Late - Izuku’s father returns to find he’s been replaced.

66. Collecting Dust - Inko goes through the stuff Izuku didn’t take to the dorms.

67. Where the souls of wanderers go - Toshi meets up with a retired hero support group.

68. Fragility of Trust - Suspected traitor au

69. no one answered - Izuku is trapped in a cell in a building that’s collapsing in slow motion due to a quirk.

70. Eye of the Storm - One of the other kids has a panic attack for the first time between public appearances.  izuku has never seen from from the outside.

71. To Whom It May Concern - The kids find a mysterious collection of letters from previous students hidden in the ceiling of the classroom.  Some are ominous, some are incomprehensible.  Aizawa has no answers.  They enthusiastically go to try and solve the mystery within, but that excitement quickly diminishes the more they find out.

72. Of Popsicles and Ponytails - All Might gets in a discussion with the other teachers about whether the Clark Kent glasses thing would actually work.  All Might bets them it does, so he goes around town with no disguise other than his hair being up, and no one bats an eye.

73. All Men are Not Born Equal - Word gets out to the public that izuku used to be quirkless.  Everyone finds out just how deep anti-quirkless sentiments run when some begin to question whether a quirkless kid should be at ua, regardless of whether or not he has a quirk now.

74. Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies - Something about encountering death in person for the first time being the dividing line between child and adult.

75. Sins of the Father - All for One has had many children over the centuries, and has made numerous attempts to groom them into the ideal heir with several different methods.  None of them worked though.

76. Where The Dead Come To Rest - The kids come home after a long, grueling mission where they saw some shit, and are too tired to process what they went through.  They take off their gear for plain clothes, then sit in the common room in silence long into the night, not wanting to open themselves up but also not wanting to be alone.

77. Rivalry - Nighteye tries to pit Izuku and Mirio against one another.  It goes right over Mirio’s head, but Izuku becomes convinced the other boy is in on Nighteye’s plan to wear him down until he gives up One for All.

78. A Subtle Language - All Might and Nana never said out loud that they loved each other, but little things told them that they did.  All Might hopes to pass a similar love down to his own successor.  But Izuku is very different than himself as a kid, and he needs to learn a new subtle language of affection.

79. It’s Gone - One for All stops working one day.

80. A Sight For Sore Eyes - All Might looking after Izuku in the aftermath of the second movie.

81. Loose Lips (sink ships) - Bakugou blurts out something about One for All during a rage, so the rest of the class jump on him and Izuku for answers.

82. No Expectations - Word gets out that All Might is going to choose a successor.  None of the theories or speculation online resemble Izuku in the slightest.

83. Eden was Only a Garden - Izuku gets hit with a quirk that erases some of his most traumatic memories, but in doing so loses part of who he is.

84. Run it Down - With all Izuku’s new quirks and his incredible skill, some of the other students with similar powers (Iida, Sero, Uraraka) start to feel like izuku is upstaging them.  And it affects their friendship.

85. Fool's Gold - Bakugou grows even more jealous of Izuku having One for All, and his relationship with All Might.  He thinks that if he could just prove himself to be more worthy, All Might would change his mind and name him his successor.  But in reality, he ends up jeopardizing the relationship they already have.

86. somewhere down the road - The final deadline for Nighteye’s predictions passes, and All Might lives.  He debates telling Izuku, as even though it would be a weight off the boy’s mind, he doesn’t want to jinx it.  He will still die eventually after all.

87. Just For You - All Might has certain rules and boundaries for fan interactions that he completely ignores for Izuku.

88. if these walls could talk (their whispers would be maddening) - Montage of training accidents in a ‘cursed’ ua gym

89. If Only I Could... - Nighteye tells Mirio about One for All, including that he thinks he’s more deserving than Izuku and he plans to pressure him into giving it up.  Mirio struggles with the knowledge that his mentor, someone he respected more than anything, only saw him as a replacement for All Might, meanwhile watching Izuku strain under the pressure of that mentor’s impossible expectations.

90. This is a Test Designed to Provoke an Emotional Response - shameless Blade Runner AU

91. Once and for All - Retelling of the Superman story “What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice, and the American Way?” with All Might.  Some new heroes use much more aggressive and violent tactics against villains while also upstaging All Might.  That, and there general approval from the public cause All Might to question his moral code.

92. Sitting In The Rain - Tsuyu likes to just sit out in the rain sometimes.  Not do anything, just sit there.  Some friends decide to join her.

93. At Sundown - Mysterious creatures start attacking ua every night.  The gang works tirelessly during the day to find the cause and a solution, while defending their school and each other at night.

94. The 1000th time's the charm - Uraraka has been practicing a new move in secret but they just can’t get it right.  She wants it to be perfect before showing it off.  But one attempt gets her seriously hurt while training alone at night in one of the gyms, and she’s too hurt to get up to the phone to call for help.

95. Sunflower Seeds - All Might attempts to start a garden as a new hobby.

96. What It Means To Be Human - Sun god Toshi starts living among people.

97. Eyes on Me - All Might teaches Izuku some unarmed fighting moves to defend himself from bullies.

98. one remains - Izuku has developed all but one of the quirks he’s slated to, and he has no idea what it will be.  Anxiety ensues.

99. Come Back Home - Izuku vanishes from campus and everyone assumes he was kidnapped, but in reality he ran away to try and clear his head after a depressive spiral.  He goes by train as far away as he can until he comes to his senses and calls the others.

100. I Won - Izuku accidentally managed to kill Shigaraki during a skirmish, and while everyone around him praises his heroics, he struggles to deal with the fact that he killed someone.

101. Ivory Tower - All Might grapples with how much izuku suffered as a quirkless person, how he could have done more for quirkless rights in his time as a hero, and how now people may not care as much because he’s retired.

Reminder to credit me if you use any of these prompts, and a special thanks to everyone who submitted titles!

#mha #bnha #mha prompts #bnha prompts #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dad might #all might #toshinori yagi #midoriya izuku #deku #bakugou katsuki #aconstantstateoffanfiction

[yelena-bellova]

Hiii, I love your writing and I was wondering if you could do a Female! Reader X Daniel Sousa where he says prompt 13: “I’ve fallen for you and it’s becoming difficult for me to get anything done.” (Sorry for my English, is not my first language)

The Way You Look Tonight

Plot: Y/n and Daniel Sousa go on an undercover mission, but Daniel seems...off.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: It’s sooo weird to write Daniel back in the 40’s/50’s after watching AOS. But I hope you enjoy! (And your English was perfect! 👌🏻)

————

13: I’ve fallen for you and it’s becoming difficult for me to get anything done

————

It was a warm summer night in Los Angeles, on the swankier side of the city filled with fine hotels and nightclubs. The SSR had been trailing a former HYDRA operative for months but he’d escaped us each time we’d tried to bring him in. We’d gotten a tip that he’d be at a club tonight and I’d been assigned to go undercover and arrest him. Though I’d been fine with going alone, Chief Sousa had volunteered to go with me. We were arriving separately to preserve the facade that we were strangers meeting spontaneously. I was already sat at the bar, dressed far fancier than I typically did and sipping the drink I’d ordered.

“Pardon me, miss,” a familiar voice began behind me, “Is this seat taken?”

I turned to face Daniel, dressed in his smartest suit, who upon meeting my eyes looked almost dumbstruck. I couldn’t help but allow myself a few seconds to admire how handsome he looked.

“By all means,” I answered with a flirtatious smile, gesturing to the free barstool.

He scooted his seat closer to me so we could talk and ordered his drink, before turning back to me,

“Anything yet?” he asked quietly.

“Not yet,” I whispered, “But I’m going to excuse myself to the ladies room in a moment, that’ll allow me to get a full view of the place. If I spot him and he tries to bolt, I can chase him down but I’ll need you backing me up.”

He hadn’t answered me yet or even acknowledged my plan, he was simply staring at me.

“Daniel, are you with me?” I asked with a small laugh, nudging his arm.

He seemed to shake himself out of whatever daze he’d been in, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Sounds like a plan.”

I nodded and rose from my seat, walking past the dance floor and past various tables as I headed towards the bathroom. Selfishly, I needed a minute to pull myself together before continuing with the mission. Once I was within the privacy of the room, I locked the door and began giving myself a very familiar pep talk in the mirror,

“You are an SSR agent, under no circumstances are you to let your feelings for Daniel Sousa get in the way of this mission.”

It was taking an enormous amount of self control to keep my focus on what we’d come to do when all I wanted was for Daniel to pull me into his arms on the dance floor. We’d worked together for almost a year now and had become fast friends, somewhere along the line I’d fallen for him. It was grueling each day to go in and work so closely with him when I couldn’t do anything about my feelings.

I took a deep breath, collected myself and exited the room. I surveyed the dance floor once again, unable to find the man in the crowd. I scanned a couple of nearby tables, nothing but happy couples laughing and staring at each other lovingly. Okay, definitely not helping in my attempts to focus solely on the mission…

Finally, I spotted him. The ex-HYDRA member was seated at the same bar that Daniel and I had been at, only a few seats down. Upon Daniel seeing me again, I nodded towards the man and inconspicuously reached into my clutch to retrieve the pistol I carried. Daniel didn’t leave his seat but was alert and ready to move if the guy gave us the slightest bit of trouble.


“Care to buy a girl a drink?” I asked in my most sultry tone as I stood behind the man.

He turned to take a look at me only to be met by a pistol pressed to his abdomen, “SSR, you’re under arrest.”

He ran his eyes over my figure before meeting my eyes, gave me a smug grin and bolted towards the nearby backdoor of the club. I took off after him, not waiting for Daniel to catch up knowing he’d catch up. I slammed my body into the door the guy had escaped out of and spotted him sprinting down the alley towards a car. Even in high heels I was a remarkably fast runner, something this guy was not, and was quickly gaining on him. Just as he was approaching his car, I tackled him to the ground and pinned his hands behind his back.

I pointed the gun at him, “Like I said…SSR, you’re under arrest.”

I heard Daniel panting behind me and whipped my head around, he’d just caught up to us.

“Sousa, cuffs,” I said, as the man tried to squirm out of my grasp to no avail.

Daniel seemed to be stuck for the second time of the night, all his attention focused solely on me.

“Sousa,” I repeated, “Cuffs.”

“Oh, right,” he snapped himself back into reality as he reached into his suit pocket and tossed me the handcuffs, “Sorry.”

—————

Back at the SSR, we’d interrogated the guy and found out he was at the club for an illegal weapons dealing. While he wouldn’t give up his contact, we were smart enough to narrow it down to a few names. It was almost midnight by the time we’d handed the man over to the cops, the office was completely empty except for me and Daniel. Since it was just us, I’d slipped off my uncomfortable heels and Daniel had removed his suit jacket and tie. For once, the atmosphere of the office was very relaxed.

“All in a day’s work,” I remarked as I leaned against the door of his office.

He smiled at me from behind his desk, but I could tell there was something going on he wasn’t telling me about. He wasn’t usually this quiet, at least not around me.

“Something bothering you, Chief?” I asked, stepping into the room.

“I wouldn’t call it a bother,” he said as he fiddled with his hands in his lap, “But there is something on my mind.”

I grabbed a chair and slid it over to his desk next to him, he rotated until we were face to face. Our knees brushed against each other lightly, I tried to ignore the adrenaline in my veins from being in such close proximity to him. I waited for him to start talking as he drew a deep breath,

“I’m no good at this kind of thing, but for the sake of the agency,” Daniel chuckled, “I think I have to at least try.”

I furrowed my brows in confusion but let him continue speaking,

“Y/n, I’ve fallen for you and it’s becoming difficult for me to get anything done,” he said with a small smile, “I come in here every day and have the hardest time doing my job because all I find myself doing is thinking about you. Like tonight, how many times did you have to wake me up from whatever daydream I was having?”

“Twice,” I answered with a laugh under my breath at the memory.

Daniel echoed me, “Twice. You wanna know why? Because I couldn’t stop thinking about gorgeous you looked sitting at the bar. Or in the alleyway, how fearless you were taking down that guy,” his smile lessened as the conversation went on, “I know that by doing this, I’ve probably scared you off and messed up our entire friendship but…I just couldn’t let another day go by without telling you how crazy I am about you.”

Words couldn’t begin to describe the joy that I felt in that moment. I’d pined after Daniel Sousa for months now, wishing every day that something would happen between us. Now here he was confessing to feeling the exact same way and thinking I would want nothing to do with him.

“Daniel, I-I…” I began but as he carefully took hold of one of my hands, I lost my train of thought.

“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, Y/n. I will get over it, I promise.”

“What if I don’t want you to get over it?” I said, locking eyes with him as I placed my other hand over his.

He looked so hopeful as we sat in expectant silence, wondering who would break it first. Slowly, he stood up and pulled me up with him, clutching my hands to his chest. I took a step closer, leaving only a sliver of space between us. Giving me every opportunity to back out, he cautiously leaned down with me as his destination. I threw caution to the wind and rose to meet him, crashing my lips against his only to be met with the same enthusiasm. Daniel’s hands released mine to gently grasp my waist, while I gripped his white shirt to anchor myself to him. Our lips moved together slowly, there would be time for more passionate kisses, but this was a sweet moment that was to be savored.

After we pulled away, I kept my eyes closed and pressed my cheek to Daniel’s as he enveloped me in his arms. He started softly humming a Bing Crosby tune, one of my favorites. I’d always loved it when he sang, he was convinced he was terrible but even if he was, I wouldn’t have noticed.


“If we wouldn’t have been on duty tonight,” he whispered close to my ear, sending goosebumps down my skin, “I’d have asked you to dance. I’d have held you close like this and wouldn’t have let you go even for a second.”

“Who says we still can’t have that?” I replied as I gently began to sway, picking up the song he’d been humming where he’d left off. Daniel caught onto what I was doing and quickly took over, moving our bodies back and forth as we sung the song together. I don’t know how long we stayed like that but however long it was, it wasn’t nearly enough. Luckily, I saw many more moments like it in mine and Daniel’s future…

Oh but, you're lovely

With your smile so warm, and your cheek so soft

There is nothing for me but to love you

Just the way you look tonight

————

900 Followers Celebration

#marvel #agents of shield #agent carter #daniel sousa #daniel sousa x reader #daniel sousa imagine #daniel sousa fanfiction #enver gjokaj #agents of shield imagine #agent carter imagine

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Exit Strategy (S2, E10)

My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:40 - Oh it’s Capshaw’s dream. Well. That’s upsetting. 

1:10 - .....she was performing surgery on herself?!!? WTF?

1:37 - The fact that Jessica broke into her adult child’s home to steal Martin memorabilia is hilarious to me. Also deeply upsetting. Because - dysfunctional. 

1:40 - “In my loft? Where I live?” hahahahahahaha sassy!Malcolm for the win! Also - there is something so so cute about the way Tom delivers this line. <3 It’s precious. 

1:46 - “I don’t always wake up screaming.” ....so historically we know this is true. Malcolm didn’t wake up screaming at the beginning of 1x15 when Eve was in his loft....but still... Malcolm’s mental health has been in tatters. I find it highly unlikely that he wouldn’t be waking up screaming. Especially since he was hallucinating last episode!!!!

1:55 - The Never. Ever. Room?!?!?! I’m shook. I’m amused. I’m horrified. I can’t believe that Jessica would let Malcolm keep that stuff in his loft. Why isn’t it locked up in a storage container or something? Jessica let Malcolm - the boy that Martin traumatized - sleep in the same building as all of Martin’s belongings?!?! Nah. Jessica is so overbearing .... I just don’t buy it. 

2:21 - “I am ignoring the Surgeon altogether.” Awww look at how proud Malcolm is to tell Jessica about his serial killer cleanse. He’s like, “I finally have news that will make Mom happy!!” <3 <3 Precious. 

2:36 - “He’s been calling. Non-stop.” annnnnnnd there’s are sad profiler. He’s putting on a good act for Jessica but he’s still clearly in a lot of emotional pain. 

3:15 - Really? The writers have Jessica riding the Brightwell train now? For real? I’m here for it but it feels kind of fast? Forced? Out of left field? I mean Jessica’s totally the type of mom who meddles in her kid’s love life (remember Eve?) but in the middle of the whole Ainsley-Endicott fiasco? Jessica should be more concerned about Malcolm’s mental state and less concerned with his relationship status. 

3:17 - Did Malcolm really just admit (sort of abstractly, but still) that he’s interested in Dani romantically? Doesn’t he realize that Jessica will try to interfere?!? He’s basically given her his blessing!!! 

3:25 - awwwww....the pic of baby!Malcolm and baby!Ainsley is so cute. <3

3:40 - UGH. I want to know more about that key and what it unlocks so badly!!!

3:46 - “Oh great. Detective Mom.” <3 I love it when he calls Jessica “Mom” instead of “Mother”. <3

4:36 - ......Mr.David and Martin have such an interesting dynamic. Martin listens to Mr. David without showing any signs of anger, resentment, or his usual psychopathic manipulation. Mr. David controls Martin much the way a parent controls their well-behaved child. I just find it so fascinating that Martin treats Mr. David with respect. That’s not Martin’s usual reaction when things don’t go his way.

5:00 - I’m so happy we keep getting more screen time with Hector. <3 This dude’s great. 

6:05 - soooo the fact that Jessica stabbed Daryl in the neck is probably going to inhibit Daryl’s ability to speak right? Making Daryl a useless source of information regarding the breakout?

6:24 - I love everything about this scene with Gil’s new car. I love that Malcolm’s “wow, the Coronet’s looking good.” is said with this little smile. As though Malcolm doesn’t really care about the car, but he knows mentioning it will make Gil happy. I love Gil’s rant about “No more Whitly’s around my car.” and Gil’s glare when JT asks about Tarmel’s around the car. I love Dani’s “boys and toys” line. UGh. It was just the little dose of found family that I craved. <3 BUT I do have one small complaint/concern. Gil. He said, “No more Whitly’s around my car.” Whitly’s. Why did he refer to Malcolm as a Whitly? 

6:54 - “Some major Japan-y vibes.”.....I’m sorry the word you’re looking for is “Japanese”?!?! Anyone else get super distracted by this line?!? 

7:56 - “Old people” HA. OMG. I love this so much. <3 <3

9:11 - As someone with severe social and general anxiety that has at times bordered on a form agoraphobia - Dani’s dismissive tone when she says “he’s afraid to leave the house.” hurts. Especially since it feels really out of character for Dani. She doesn’t usually dismiss people so quickly. Maybe there’s a story there? She had an agoraphobic family member? 

10:14 - “NYPD. Adjacent.” Why isn’t Malcolm a member of the NYPD yet? He trained with the FBI. He’s clearly capable of being employed as a detective for the NYPD. Is it because he doesn’t want to carry a gun? Is it because Gil doesn’t want Malcolm to carry a gun? Is it bureaucracy (probably)?

10:44 - Malcolm explaining why the antique pistol won’t fire is adorable. 

10:57 - This dude hasn’t left the house since March of 1997. Martin was arrested in 1998. Is this supposed to have some sort of double meaning? Like maybe Malcolm discovered that Martin was killing people in 1997 but the chloroform confused him for a while and he didn’t call the cops until 98′? Is this supposed to be a metaphor for the fact that Malcolm hasn’t been truly alive since 1997? He’s just been in survival mode - he hasn’t been living.

11:22 - “I’m not too good around people.” This dude is Malcolm. Malcolm lives in a state of constant fear and anxiety. Malcolm isn’t so good with relationships or casual human interactions. 

11:30 - It makes perfect sense to me that Dani is the detective that Malcolm brings in to talk to Gerald. Forget the Brightwell agenda. Gerald is a scared old man. JT and Gil are authoritative men (they’re teddy bears but they can also be scary). Dani is a woman. Women are typically seen as less of a threat. Though Dani could totally kick just about anyone’s ass. But it makes sense to me that a scared witness would feel more comfortable around the smaller female detective than the large male ones. 

12:03 - Ugh. I feel so bad for Gerald. The dude is clearly experiencing some sensory overload on top of his anxiety. :( 

12:15 - hahahaha the absolute best part of this little Brightwell moment is Gerald’s reaction. This old man just connected the dots and you can see it ALL over his face.  ....but also, it’s a really cute moment. <3

12:38 - “Too late if you ask me.” Is it just me or does Gerald seem protective of Rosalie here? Almost paternal? 

13:03 - “You still think like a grand master” Is this supposed to be an illusion to the way that Malcolm thinks about cases? He thinks like the killer in order to solve the case?

13:13 - WHY DOES MALCOLM KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT A CHESS LEGEND FROM THE 70s and 80s?!? Did baby!Malcolm have a chess phase? I want details.

13:22 - I love Gerald. He’s such a cute little old man. He’s scared but you can tell that he has a good heart and that he’s extremely smart. Look at how impressed he is with Malcolm. <3 He’s a lot like Malcolm. 

13:27 -”Memory was always my gift.” Memory is Gerald’s gift but it’s been Malcolm’s curse.

15:04 - Malcolm is so close to snapping. Look at this poor boy. He’s at the end of his rope. :( 

15:14 - “Looks like you got some sleep.” Awwww proud!Gil <3 

15:40 - “Agoraphobia often comes from trauma.” Yep. Malcolm identifies with Gerald. I wonder if Malcolm ever went through a period of agoraphobia? Maybe as a teen? 

15:48 - .....is this foreshadowing? When the truth about Endicott comes out is Malcolm going to be deemed an ‘unreliable witness’? Or maybe that’s how Ainsley is going to try and pin the murder on Malcolm?

15:58 - annnnnd we finally got a good shot of concerned!Gil. There’s no way that Gil isn’t reading between the lines here. He knows Malcolm identifies with Gerald and he knows Malcolm is having issues with his mental health, identity, and self-worth. SOMEONE CONFRONT HIM. WHERE IS THE MALCOLM INTERVENTION?!!?

16:20 - “Are you alright? Don’t answer that.”.....because Martin doesn’t actually care about Malcolm’s mental or physical health. Martin is a narcissist who has a story to tell. 

16:27 - “No. Me first.” I’m. So. Proud. Of. Malcolm. <3 <3 

16:56 - “That felt good.” :) Awwww... <3 I’m proud of Malcolm for this but Martin is totally going to hold it against him in later episodes. It’s going to fuel some sort of anger. Just wait for it. 

17:05 - Again. Mr. David acts like Martin’s dad. If Martin were 8 years old. 

17:40 - Chrisitan Brole is a treasure. His acting is incredible. Friar Pete is creepy, likeable, funny, and terrifying. Honestly. Give him an Emmy. 

20:00 - “*sigh* kid.” This breaks my heart. You can see Gil’s doubt and concern all over his face. He’s doubting Malcolm’s ability to make an accurate profile of Gerald because he knows how much Malcolm identifies and sympathizes with Gerald. He’s concerned about Malcolm because....I mean have you seen him lately? The boy is spiralling and it hurts to watch. But Gil is scared for Malcolm right now. Gil is now worried that the cases aren’t enough to distract Malcolm. That Malcolm can’t work on cases anymore. That Malcolm’s mental health has compromised his ability to work effectively. 

20:50 - “We’re friends. Partners” Listen to the longing in Malcolm’s voice when he says “partners”. He wants to be romantic partners with Dani - not just work partners. It’s obvious. This boy is an open book when it comes to how he feels about Dani. 

21:08 - “And she never will.” there is something about the way Tom delivers this line. How he sort of trips over the words. I can’t tell if it’s intentional or not but it works. It somehow makes it more raw and emotional. Malcolm wants so so badly to tell Dani how he feels but he’s convinced that he’s a monster. That she deserves someone more stable than him. Someone with less trauma. Malcolm is convinced that he’s not safe for anyone to love. Malcolm is convinced he’s going to snap and become Martin. 

21:17 - “Sounds lonely.” I love the way Malcolm immediately dismisses this as ‘tactical empathy’. Malcolm has accepted that he will be alone forever. He’s convinced himself he deserves it. I’m willing to bet that Malcolm rarely (if ever) actually feels lonely. Between coping mechanisms, hallucinations, and trauma - I doubt his mind is ever quiet enough for him to notice loneliness. 

21:27 - “You’ve spent your life mastering a game. I’ve spent mine mastering how people think.” .....ok but chess is basically about predicting your opponents moves and then Gerald graduated to people watching soooooo they’re really not that different. 

22:06 - I love this. I love how Malcolm turns on Gerald only for Gerald to emphatically explain how he lives through that window. Because - isn’t Malcolm the same? How many people have accused Malcolm of being a murderer when really he’s just a man who only feels alive when he’s solving murders and putting away killers?

22:50 - Rosalie helped Gerald much like Dani helps Malcolm. But Gerald couldn’t help Rosalie because he was trapped in his trauma. .....sooooo what’s going to happen to Dani? Or is this just supposed to be a reference to the fact that Dani can’t trust Malcolm because he’s keeping Endicott a secret and she knows something is up?

22:51 - ummmmm 60bpm??!?!? That’s a borderline athletic resting heart rate for a man in his 50s. There’s no way Martin’s in that great of shape. He’s trapped in his cell most of the day. 

24:28 - oooookkkkkayyyy so maybe Capshaw isn’t as smart as I thought she was. Martin is playing her like a fiddle. Although that dream sequence from the intro did make it seem like she was only interested in Martin because she craved medical power and respect. 

25:22 - Martin didn’t call Jessica his wife to screw with Capshaw. He genuinely still thinks of Jessica as his wife.....this is not good for the future. This tracks with the dreams Martin’s had throughout this season of going back home to his family. 

25:44 - Oh yeah. Jessica knows that woman is into Martin. 

26:41 - “Isn’t it obvious? It’s the key to my heart.” LMAO holy shit. 

26:56 - “I can tell when you’re lying.” “Not historically.”......Martin has a point. 

28:27 - This counts as my “someone confronts Malcolm about his mental health” bingo square for the episode right? 

28:35 - Look at Gil. He knows Malcolm is lying through his teeth and he’s so so tired of it. He looks so sad and annoyed. Gil loves Malcolm so much and he’s clearly concerned about Malcolm but I honestly think Gil just feels helpless right now. Malcolm is spiralling and Gil can’t help because Malcolm won’t open up. 

29:15 - “When she didn’t give up Clayton he killed her. Brave girl.”.....does this mean there’s going to be an attempt on someone’s life this season? Maybe Martin tries to kill Ainsley because she’s going to pin Endicott’s murder on Malcolm? Or Malcolm tries to kill Ainsley because she doesn’t give up Martin’s location? Or Ainsley/Martin try to kill Malcolm because he tries to come clean about everything?

29:26 - “If anyone can get through to this guy it’s you.” THANK YOU. Malcolm really needed that assurance. This dude is so full of negative emotions, self doubt, and pain. Every moment he feels supported, believed in, or loved is immensely treasured. 

30:26 - Oh Capshaw. You dumb dumb dumb woman. Look at Martin’s face. Capshaw has freed a monster. That’s Martin’s “I’m a raging serial killer” expression. 

30:29 - Holy shit. Look at how quickly Martin put the “I’m a harmless doctor” mask. In the span of about 1 second he went from killer to angel. Michael Sheen is incredible. 

31:04 - “You don’t have to be trapped in here.” It breaks my heart to hear Malcolm encourage Gerald to break free from his trauma when Malcolm is still a prisoner to his own. 

31:10 - “This is your next move” “No. It’s not”. THIS. This sums up anxiety disorders. Everyone tells you to ‘move on’ or ‘take a deep breath’. They all tell you that ‘everything will be fine’. They ask you ‘what’s the worst thing that could happen.” The problem: most people with anxiety disorders know the majority of their fears (or at least the severity of them) is irrational. Most people with anxiety disorders have tried therapy, drugs, coping mechanisms, breathing techniques, ect. Anxiety doesn’t go away because you want it to. Telling someone to move on - just makes it worse. Especially someone who has lived with severe anxiety so long that it feels like a crucial part of their personality. I’ve had a severe anxiety disorder for as long as I can remember - I don’t want to heal. I don’t know who I’d be without severe anxiety. I’m scared to find out. 

32:10 - “Family comes first”........soooo is Martin escaping to groom Ainsley for the family business (murder)? For Malcolm (to save him from Ainsley)? To protect Malcolm from a new Surgeon related skeleton (akin to Endicott)? WHY? 

32:33 - ahhhh Papa!Gil. I’ve missed you. 

33:25 - I have this headcannon that baby!Malcolm had pet rats at some point (he’d had snakes so I feel like rats would be in his wheelhouse). One day while Malcolm was at school the rats escaped from their cage and scared the crap out of Jessica. Jessica demands that the rats be removed from the home. That’s it. That’s the scene that plays in my head. 

33:39 -.....Jessica is wearing a ring on her left ring finger. Why? 

34:03 - “Jess it’s good to hear from you but -” They’re dating again now. Right? <3 

34:06 - “What?!” Fear and confusion. That’s the look on Gil’s face. We love to see it. 

 34:25 - “Martin is escaping.” Look at Gil’s face. He’s terrified. He’s staying calm and acting like he’s in control but this dude is terrified that the people he loves most in the world (Jessica and Malcolm) are in serious and immediate danger. 

34:50 - .....last I checked Malcolm was claustrophobic with specific closet-related trauma......

35:40 - “There’s only one play for a pawn.”.....does this mean Malcolm considers himself a pawn in Martin’s game? Disposable. Limited options. Replaceable. Of little worth? :( 

35:57 - “What would you know about it Judas.” Huh. Pete is pissed at Martin. Is it because Pete views Martin’s nasty relationship with Capshaw as a betrayal akin to Judas’ betrayal of Jesus?

36:36 - Jessica using her heels as a weapon is honestly such a mood. hahaha

36:54 - Poor Jessica. The moment she realizes that she’s trapped with a killer who not only hates Martin but also has an hallucinatory friend is haunting. This woman goes from terrified to petrified. But look at her poker face. She’s brave. She tries to talk her way out of it. She tries to think her way out of it. She’s like Malcolm.

37:42 - Jessica firmly telling Daryl not to take another step right before she stabs him in the neck with a high heel is everything. Listen to her terrified screaming. She can’t believe she just stabbed the man (even if it was self-defence). This woman did the impossible while scared to death. She is a badass. She’s my hero. I love her. 

38:12 - “All she had to do was tell me where my brother was. Except they were in love”.....does this mean Ainsley or Martin is going to try and kill Dani?

39:32 - “Don’t you think that’s what Rosalie would’ve wanted for you? This time make the right choice.” Wow. Malcolm is really metaphorically berating himself. What I heard was “Don’t you think Dani would want you to live without fear and guilt? This time - tell her your secret. Come clean. You’ll feel better.”

40:12 - ....so did Dani steal Gil’s keys or did he give them to her? Can we see how mad Gil is about this? Please? .....also the not-so-subtle “Dani is going to be a part of the Whitly family because she hurt Gil’s car” is not lost on me. I’m just more interested in Gil’s reaction to Dani hurting his baby. 

40:21 - “I see why you like her.” hahaha Gerald is all of us. Whether or not you ship Brightwell, you can’t deny that Dani is a badass and a good friend to Malcolm. That’s reason enough for Malcolm to like her - not necessarily in a romantic way. 

40:30 - Where the hell did Daryl go? If Jessica was trapped where did the man with a high heel in his neck go?!!?! 

40:33 - “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay.” <3 <3 The whump whore in me is in love. Forget Gillica. I’ll listen to Gil comforting a traumatized member of the team or Jessica any time, any day. <3 

40:50 - I have so many questions about this escape. Are the guys sticking together? If not - do they know where the other guys plan to go/do? Where will they be getting the post-escape change of clothes (you know the ones that aren’t property of Claremont)? 

40:55 - I’ll be honest, I’m shocked. They’ve been teasing Martin’s escape all season but I really thought he wasn’t going to escape until the finale. Now I’m so excited for the finale. If it’s not a Martin-Ainsley-Malcolm showdown or a Gil-Martin showdown I’m going to be sad. 

41:13. - Martin and Gerald both just took their first breath of fresh air as ‘free’ men after 23-24 years. The symmetry of this episode’s two main plot lines is more obvious than usual. 

41:44 - Look at Gerald being Malcolm’s wingman. hahaha it’s so cute. He’s self-appointed himself as Malcolm’s grandpa and I’m here for it. 

41:51 - REALLY MALCOLM?!!? YOU CHOOSE TO LISTEN TO A VOICEMAIL FROM THE SURGEON NOW?!?! #MORON

42:29 - Martin’s entire message for Malcolm is haunting. Even now, he’s trying to manipulate Malcolm. “I’m not the man I used to be”. I’ll promise you right now - Martin will be killing at least one person in the next 3 episodes. He’s addicted to killing. End of story. 

“I’m doing this for you” ....Is Martin going after Ainsley? I’m genuinely concerned that Martin thinks Ainsley is going to try and kill Malcolm or pin the Endicott murder on Malcolm. I think Martin caught wind of it and is planning on ‘taking care of the problem’ (Ainsley). 

42:35 - Look at Dani. She’s terrified. For Malcolm. For Gil. For New York. For herself. She knows how bad this is and she’s scared. 

42:44 - “You fath-. The Surgeon.” THIS. Dani realized that Malcolm doesn’t need to be reminded that his father is a serial killer. Dani realized that family is more than blood. The Surgeon escaped. Malcolm is in danger. But Malcolm’s father didn’t escape. Malcolm’s father has been dead since 1997/1998 when Malcolm found out he was a serial killer. 

42:55 - Malcolm. :( Look at our baby. :( He’s done. Absolute horror and terror. He looks like he’s going into shock. I honestly thought (*cough* hoped *cough*) he was going to pass out. THIS is what’s going to remove Malcolm as a suspect for ‘aiding/knowing that Martin was planning on escaping’. Same with Jessica. Ainsley doesn’t have a terror driven alibi though. At least - not that we’ve seen. 

AHHHHHHHH this was such an intense episode. I can’t wait for Tuesday. <3

If Malcolm doesn’t have a full on mental breakdown soon I’m going to have a stress-induced breakdown for him. Seriously. 

 Thanks for hanging out. 

#jess-rewatches-prodigal #malcolm bright #prodigal son #gil arroyo #dani powell #JT Tarmel #ainsley whitly #martin whitly #edrisa tanaka #jessica whitly #I LOVE this show #whump #rewatch #spoliers #malcolm needs a hug #ps #so good #2x10 #exit strategy #e10 #02x10 #S2

[acommonloon]

TL;DR

about last night's mperfect ending. After stops at three Louisville venues, each more fun than the last, we decided to get a nightcap in New Albany. We didn't manage to get a drink at any of four stops in that sleepy town but we did witness a police officer chasing a black man down the side of State Street. Still watching for a news report.

Alternately a night for Morgans

_____________________________________________________________

D's niece's husband, J, is a sweet guy. He has almost no family of his own living in the area and his own family unit consists of an unruly teen (not his) a precocious 6 year old and 3 year old twins. It's a lot.

With that in mind, I always wait for him to contact me and he always earns his kitchen passes so when he texted me he had a free night out I was glad to hang with him. I only asked if he had a curfew. No sir. He's nearing 40 and regularly admits he wishes he could more often frequent the places D and I do, meaning bars and restaurants. I remember those days when self came last.

Our 1st stop was World of Beer. With 50+ taps and hundreds of bottles and cans sitting in glass front coolers directly across from the bar, it's one of my go to spots. J immediately set about building a flight of five small pours while I took my time picking one or two low gravity beers to sip since I was driving. They had two bartenders on this Wednesday night, Morgan was ours and our service was prompt and friendly. By the time we finished a plate of tots, loaded with melted cheese and fresh jalapeno slices I had our plan.

I hadn't been to Commonwealth Tap since before 2020. This small wine bar is in a movie set sort of town called Norton Commons. Think "The Truman Show." The houses were all built over a small number of years and though they are comprised of many different styles, with no two near each other being the same, they are on the same size lots and there is no variety in terms of weathering or decoration. Everything to plan. Unreal. Creepy.

I glanced at the wine list on a chalkboard noticing a Turley Zin at $18 and a Cotes de Rhone at $8. When the bartender asked what I wanted, I said, "Talk me out of the Turley and into the Cotes. He hesitated for a second and I said, "I want something minerally, earthy, not fruity." Like a Beaujolais Morgon or an Italian grown on the side of a volcano. Before he could reply, a guy sitting at the bar said we don't have that on tap. The Cotes is your best option and the bartender handed me a generous taste saying, try that.

I took the glass all the while evaluating the man who'd spoken up. He'd said "we" don't have that. He was alone at the bar except for us. I doubted he was just a bold regular, maybe drunk, who felt everyone benefited from his opinion, he wasn't drunk. Then he stood up and walked over the the wine racks. His search was one of familiarity and he pulled a bottle and sat it down on the bar next to me. Was he an employee or maybe a distributor on good terms with the staff? Then he began talking about the wine, about his many trips to France, and I suddenly I knew. "You're an owner here aren't you?"

He laughed and admitted he was. He introduced himself, Neal Morgan and for the next 40 mins or so he told us about himself and the bar. He told us about his wife, a pediatrician who worked for 20 years in Indiana and he went so far as to describe his Scottish heritage along with his general thinking about wines. When he said he was going a friend's house for a pizza party, I thought he was about to leave. Then he said he was going to take a kick ass wine but first he wanted me to taste it. It was a California pinot noir priced at $30 more than the first bottle he'd put down on the bar. It was fantastic! He gave us tasting notes and I admitted I couldn't perceive half of what he reeled off. I said he spoke like a sommelier and he laughed again and said he claimed he had a better palate than Kenny, the sommelier who worked for him. He thanked us for coming in and seemed sincere. When he left, J looked at me and said, "That was amazing." I laughed and said it was a Wednesday at a bar.

Before we left, I asked Rainha to make me a Penicillin and we talked about Scotch. She related how she introduced her brother to Scotch and now that's all he drank. We talked about how things were during the shutdown and I told her about a new place I'd been the previous Saturday. Outside, J exclaimed this was just the best time! He said he'd never be able to talk staff like that, let alone the owner. I said talking to industry people was one of my favorite things. They are so interesting and I think they find it refreshing when someone at the bar wants to hear about them instead of wanting to talk about themselves. Then I said, I know where we'll go next. Maybe Stephen is working.

Our next stop was at Cuvee Wine Table and Stephen greeted me at the door with a huge "Shane!" and a hug. If J was impressed with Commonwealth, I thought he should fasten his seatbelt. Stephen is a trip. Except, Stephen exclaimed I'm on this side of the bar now! To my quizzical look, he said he was the manager now. Amidst introductions, our bartender, Andie came over and introduced herself. She was tall, regally thin, and wore a colorful scarf on her head. She offered an engaging personality I perceived as professional banter but sensed alos she seemed to enjoy her job.

When I described what kind of wine I preferred, she said, "OOh how about a white?" Ooookay??? I thought to myself, this is going to be fun. Stephen came back as Andy set my glass down in front of me and asked, "What are we having?" Andie said, it's the Santorini. Stephen, a newly minted sommelier, immediately launched into an enthusiastic description about this remarkable wine from a Greek Island. He said it was so constantly windy, they braided the vine boughs into bowls to protect the fruit on the inside. I smelled it and it reminded me of a Sav Blanc but when I tasted it, I knew I'd found a new favorite. It had a salty savory aspect with more minerality than any white I'd had previously.

Andie was from Lexington and our other bartender, Heather, was newly arrived from the Nashville area. Heather was training behind the bar but seemed tres calm. At one point she asked us to wish her luck and I realized she was going to take an order. When she came back, I was a little surprised but delighted when J asked her where she was from specifically. It turned out they were from the same area and knew the same high schools and such. Great fun. When Stephen came and asked if we were eating, I said, "What am I having?" The cassoulet he responded immediately and then he tried to add in sweet breads but I insisted I was out on that. J selected a flatbread and when my giant bowl of white beans with pork and a small chicken leg came, I felt I'd got the better order. He admitted sheepishly he just didn't like beans and that was that.

I suggested we finish with a French brandy served in proper snifters and asked for a bottle of the Santorini to go home. It was full dark but comfortably warm walking to the car and J asked if I were up for one more on him. I suggested we go see Emily at Brooklyn and the Butcher. She made me a perfect drink in January and I'd been craving another ever since.

All the way to New Albany, J kept bringing up how much he enjoyed the two wine bars and how he hoped he and his wife could indulge in similar experiences when their children were older. He worried his wife didn't really like anything but sweet wine and was picky about that. I laughed and said D was exactly the same but she was game to hang out and recently started to appreciate ciders and frutied beers, and even some semi-sweet wines.

There were still plenty of cars parked on the street when we arrived at Brooklyn and the Butcher. I noticed there was no one at the hostess stand when we walked in but I breezed past into the bar. There were two women sitting at the bar and I was a bit disappointed when I realized the bartender wasn't Emily. I was even more so when she came over and apologized but said they'd closed already. I laughed and made a joke about the owner being an old man for closing so early then I realized who it was sitting at the bar. I asked, "Is that Emily sitting at the bar?" she said it was and I got up and walked over. We talked for ten minutes about my last visit and I asked her about her trip to Savannah. She kept apologizing for the bar being closed but I assured her I would be back. It was fine, we'd walk down to The Earl.

I got a bad vibe the minute we walked in. The bar was mostly full and there was only one bartender. He was wearing short shorts and took forever to get us a drink menu then never looked our way for the next five minutes. I suggested we go to Recbar nearby. There it was the same. The lone bartender, woman this time, was overwhelmed and though the bar was half empty she never looked our way before I lost patience.

Okay then. We were driving to my final option (so I thought) when I stopped at a light. J said, "Look at that! A cop is chasing that guy!" Sure enough through the sparse traffic I could see a black guy sprinting along the side of the normally busy road. His arms were pistoning up and down, his hands flattened into chopping motions like a track sprinter. Coming behind but steadily losing ground was a hefty police officer. He looked ridiculous and I can only imagine he might be thinking everyone watching thought he looked ridiculous. I wondered if he might pull his gun.

The light turned green then and I moved forward. That's when we spotted a car with the front passenger side crushed in where it had impacted the guardrail, on the opposite side of the road. There was a cop car with its lights flashing parked behind it. I couldn't see any activity around the cars as we drove past. About a half mile up the road we pulled into the parking lot of our 4th attempt to get a last drink. It was closed.

We laughed and decided we'd had enough fun. As we headed back towards the scene of the incident, sirens and flashing lights were suddenly all around us. I guess there was a manhunt. I weaved through parked cruisers while J counted eight more with lights flashing on side streets . Fifteen minutes later I dropped him off. He thanked me profusely but it nothing but what I like to do anyway.

20 mins later I pulled into the garage and for a second my heart did the little flutter it always does when I see D's car parked in its spot. Then I sighed remembering she wasn't home and wouldn't be for another week.

Just a Wednesday.

[neverdoingmuch]

a superhero au from this ask.

okay so in this au superheroes join different sects as disciples and go through a superhero training program and then if they pass they become official superheroes for the sect

for the most part things stay the same, your good guys go out and defeat evil and save the day but there’s also a bunch of extra stuff bc they’re in a sect

the extra stuff is mostly legal stuff like if you destroy a building in a fight, who pays for it and what happens if a superhero goes rogue, who stops them?

so the sects are good bc they give that security and also make sure things run smoothly, so you don’t end up with three superheroes in the one area

obviously you still have independent superheroes but they usually get picked up by a sect pretty quickly (or join the wens who are just the bad guys i guess but shh they’re hiding it,, badly)

for the most part though, new heroes realise they can’t cut it and quit

notice the most, because there are a few people who don’t, including people like the yiling patriarch 

so, worldbuilding aside, let’s start with lwj

bc we still have sects, lwj and lxc both went through the training program together and even graduated a few years early, meaning they debuted pretty young

they were both way too powerful to actually be needed in the field most of the time so lxc ended up helping his uncle and lwj started teaching at the training program (and even when he is needed, it’s usually enough just to send lxc, so he hasn’t been active in like five years)

life is going pretty okay for lwj but then there’s a fight between some wens and yllz and a building ends up being destroyed - lwj’s apartment building

at first he’s like whatever i’ll just stay at a hotel till it gets fixed but then he gets told that there’s some issue with the building regulations so it’ll be more than a year

lwj goes apartment hunting and ends up finding the perfect apartment. it’s spacious and convenient and looks really nice and the only drawback is his neighbour (spoiler: it’s wwx)

now we have wwx

he used to be a disciple with the jiang sect and was on track to graduate their training program probably even younger than the twin jades but then he dropped out suddenly. no one knows why 

what happened was that wwx had befriended wen ning at an intersect meeting thing where the training heroes could compete against each other 

when wen ning found out the truth about the wens being evil, he begged wen qing to take their family and leave the wens to get to safety. wen qing refused bc who would they go to? who would risk everything they had to keep them safe?

wei wuxian would. 

and he did!! when he found out what the wens had gone through, he immediately quit the jiang sect and spent the next four years helping them go in hiding, making fake identities etc. 

the only people who refused to leave were wen qing and wen ning and a-yuan so wwx was like i’ve done my best now we gotta live and ends up buying an apartment for the four of them and gets a job

at night he goes out as yllz and tries to bring the wens down. it’s slow-going at first and he’s just busting minor crimes and not really gathering any useful information but he keeps going bc a-yuan and the others will never be safe for as long as the wens are able to keep hurting people

he works a full-time job during the day and spends his nights fighting crime and he’s always tired and sore but it’s fine because he needs to do this but then one day his new neighbour moves in next door

the first time he meets him, he’s come back from work and by the time he bakes a welcome cake it’s like 10:40 and he goes over and knocks on his neighbour’s door and the guy eventually answers and holy fuck he’s hot (also grumpy bc lwj does not appreciate being woken up)

lwj slams the door in his face without even taking it from him, so wwx just leaves it on his doorstep and goes back home to nap for a few hours before going on patrol

the next day when he gets home from work there’s a letter in front of his door and when he opens it it just says thanks for the cake it was very delicious if unnecessary

wwx writes on the back: it’s all fine! i’m glad you liked it. if you need any help settling in, i’d be more than happy to help. he adds his phone number and then he leaves the note on lwj’s door and that’s where it all starts

the next morning he wakes up to a text from lwj saying that he appreciates the offer & his name. it’s short and kind of rude but wwx is lying there going lan zhan, lan zhaaaan, his name is lan zhan 

they run into each other in the morning a few times and take the elevator down together and wwx always chatters at him. lwj doesnt really respond but he doesn’t tell him to shut up either so that’s practically permission

and wwx is no idiot. he knows that hot neighbour + texting ability = potential romance so he makes sure to text lwj a lot 

and by a lot, i mean a lot. lwj is sitting in a meeting with his brother and by the time he finishes he has fifty new messages

but that’s okay bc lwj kinda likes the attention he thinks? lwj’s neighbour is funny and cute 

and after a while, lwj starts responding properly. it’s not like he’s sending 50 messages back but he’s engaging wwx in conversation and sometimes they call and once, when wwx was coming back from work, lwj had invited him in for tea

when lwj realises that wwx goes to work early and gets home late he starts inviting wwx over for dinner. wwx doesn’t mention that wen ning is more than able to cook dinner (if he ever mentioned that he was living with him at all) and they start having dinner not-dates and sometimes wwx falls asleep on lwj’s couch

the first few times wwx always felt really guilty bc lwj doesn’t want to put up with that and he’s letting down the wens but wen qing is like no, it’s good, you need to take some time for yourself and lwj is like it’s fine so whatever, wwx can sleep on lwj’s couch now

except it’s not just lwj’s couch bc wwx keeps waking up leaning on lwj and it’s very embarrassing bc he’s starting to find that he has difficulties sleeping without being able to hear lwj’s heartbeat 

so wwx is falling in love. wen ning is supportive and wen qing is probably laughing at him but wwx is so conflicted

on one hand, wwx’s entire life revolves around the wens and trying to stop them or protect them, and here lwj is, a completely normal man, who has no expectations about wwx. he doesn’t need to be a guardian for lwj, he doesn’t need to be the terrifying yiling patriarch, he can just be wwx

on the other hand, lwj is a civilian and wwx doesn’t want to drag lwj down with him and risk him getting hurt or killed

so he decides to stay as friends. he won’t give lwj up but he won’t tell him he loves him (unless something happens to make wwx need to give lwj up, in which case he will)

around this time lwj gets a call from his uncle asking for help with the yllz

he’s never met him before but lwj does not like the yllz 

like yes he’s taking down the wens which probably makes him good but he’s also taking what the wens had stolen for himself

so no one knows whether he’s a villain stealing from the wens or a hero who doesn’t trust the official means

Either way it’s a bad look for lwj & co bc they either look incompetent for not knowing about this guy & not being able to stop him or untrustworthy and maybe even corrupt 

but lqr wants lwj to either bring him in as a disciple or as a criminal. whichever is easier

the first time hanguang-jun shows up to a fight wwx is completely shocked bc he vaguely remembers seeing hanguang-jun fight at the practise matches and he was good, definitely on par with wwx so if hanguang-jun were to fight him he isn’t sure that he’d win. 

wwx quickly finishes off the wens and then turns to lwj, refusing to let his guard down but hanguang-jun just asks what he’s doing

wwx is cagey at first but eventually reveals the truth (or as much as he can tell) and hanguang-jun is like i don’t like your methods but what you’re doing is just, so i’ll help you and so commences the most awkward team up ever

wwx had expected to have to carry most of the weight but hanguang-jun is there defending him and helping him fight the wens and he can’t help but start to trust hanguang-jun.

hanguang-jun blocks a hit meant for wwx and wwx spends like half an hour carefully cleaning the wound on his arm and bandaging it up and at the end he presses a kiss to it and he immediately goes bright red but it’s okay bc hgj’s ear are red too

wwx slips on a roof and hgj ends up catching him and damn he’s strong and the look of concern on his face is almost making wwx think hgj doesn’t hate him

hgj brings in some intel once and wwx automatically goes damn i could kiss you right now and then decides to just become one with the floor

not only that but wwx talks a lot. when he’s patrolling, when he’s fighting, when he’s waiting,, he never shuts up and hanguang-jun listens to him every time and, just as wwx fell for lwj, he starts falling for hanguang-jun

it’s even worse in this case bc hanguang-jun is all righteous and good and here wwx is using the superhero equivalent of demonic cultivation (has he perverted his own powers or did he always have necromancy powers? up to you)

so here wwx is falling in love with hanguang-jun and lwj and he feels terrible about it

there is definitely a case going on in the background but it’s basically just the sunshot campaign if only lwj and wwx were fighting it for the most part

eventually he complains to wq about his feelings and she’s like just try confessing! so the next time he and hanguang-jun team up he tells him that he loves him

 lwj is 100% in love wwx and semi in love with yllz. for the most part, the things he loves about yllz all remind him of wwx so he doesn’t really see it as a crush as much as more yearning for wwx

but lwj is very awkward so he gives this kinda terrible rejection? he’s like im sorry, i don’t return your feelings maybe we should work apart for a while?

from his pov he’s giving yllz room to deal w/ his emotions alone and they’ll team up later but from wwx’s pov hanguang-jun is so disgusted he never wants to work with him again

so they go their separate ways and when wwx gets a tip-off about some weird shit about to go down at nightless city so he sneaks in by himself bc hanguang-jun definitely wouldn’t want to help him and ends up getting captured by wen ruohan

lwj, for his part, is freaking out bc wwx hasn’t responded to his texts in over a week and maybe he’s come on too strong and wwx has figured out his feelings and is letting him down gently? (by disappearing??)

but then wq comes banging on his door and asks to come in. he lets her in and she immediately tells him i know you’re hanguang-jun

lwj is defensive and ready to be blackmailed or something but she just explains that wwx has gone missing and he’d received a tip the day before he disappeared and when lwj sees the message wwx had got he’s just like why is wwx involved with the wens?

because he’s yllz, wen qing tells him and lwj is Buffering

reason 1: yllz wasn’t meant to be someone he liked and lwj had definitely been feeling guilty about the fact that he would need to be brought in bc he is morally dubious on main & he can’t reconcile that with the sweet and kind wwx 

reason 2: holy shit does wwx like me?

bc lwj is a disaster he only ends up asking about the latter and wq stares at him, dead-eyed and exhausted, and tells him wwx is in love with lwj and hanguang-jun

commence lwj’s plan to get wwx back and confess to him and hopefully get married but he’ll be happy if they just kiss and/or hold hands

 he starts off by explaining most of the stuff to his brother who ends up calling jyl (bc they have to be friends, i’ll cry if they’re not) who is like my brother?!! and decides to help. also probably nhs bc friends who share porn definitely save each other from wen ruohan

so they attack the wens. for most of the heroes it’s bc they finally have proof of wen ruohan being evil (helpfully collated in a colour-coordinated binder by wwx) but lwj is just there for wwx

he finds him in the dungeons or something and wwx is hurt kind of badly and lwj collapses beside him and presses down on the main wound, trying to stop the bleeding

and wwx goes hanguang-jun? what are you doing here? and lwj says nothing just pushing down harder bc he’s losing too much blood and wwx is like oh, do you hate me that much that you won’t even speak to me anymore?

lwj can’t bear it for another second and rips his mask off and wwx just gawks at him. lan zhan? you’re hanguang-jun? wwx stammers and lwj just nods and rips some fabric from his cape (would he have a cape?) and tries to bandage the wound

wwx asks him why he’s here, why he bothered to come for wwx when he doesn’t care for him but he passes out before lwj can actually say anything

he wakes up in hospital and lwj is sleeping in the chair beside him and the second wwx twitches he jolts up and stares at wwx with such relief that wwx wants to blush

i love you, lwj says, not waiting for another second. the reason i didnt accept your confession was because i loved you. i didnt know you were yllz 

and wwx is like and i didnt know you were hanguang-jun!! and lwj is like yeah but wen qing did /:

and wwx is like yeah but she’s smart & they kinda fall quiet for a few moments before wwx is like did you know i think hanguang-jun is very handsome and lwj is like yes? and wwx is like good! lwj is also handsome!

and lwj is like yllz and wwx are attractive to me and they finally kiss and it’s not a complete disaster thankfully

after that lwj goes back to his semi-retirement bc he doesn’t need to catch yllz anymore and sometimes wwx comes in to help teach a class with him and they’ll go home to lwj’s apartment after and watch movies together and not once do they comment on the miscommunication between love interests

#i forgot to find a place to include this in the au but lwj's mum was definitely an unaffiliated superhero #and part of the reason lwj is suspicious of wwx #this ended up being very long sorry! #mdzs #modao zushi #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #cql #the untamed