#- but combined with not mentioning it earlier and also lying about their age... yeah i have my doubts 😩)

[daz4i]

finding the blogs of old mutuals is very fun sometimes but i think i just found one of my ex and they are like. straight up lying on main

#or they just lied to me. but somehow i doubt it lol #(as in. they say they're 20. they were supposedly in college when we dated... 5 years ago 🤨) #(also back then they said they're russian and i mean. they did look white - #- but now they claim to be indigenous and palestinian... um?) #(like. if it was just the white thing I'd say it's a matter of passing. whatever. - #- but combined with not mentioning it earlier and also lying about their age... yeah i have my doubts 😩) #(that being said the russian thing was also always suspicious bc in vc they never had an accent - #- despite supposedly moving only a few years beforehand. so who knows! maybe that one was the lie then!) #none of this actually matters. they can lie if they wanna it doesn't affect me or smth. just telling you to clear out my head 🫡 #yknow there was also this time while we dated where they had just a huge personality switch #not for the bad or smth. just. a big switch out of nowhere. it was really weird #to the point it was one of the reasons i broke up with them. oops (alongside the aro thing + long distance being Not Fun) #lmao overall a very strange person i feel like i dodged some bullet there.

[teamhappyme]

a series of promising events (1/5)

aaron hotchner x female! reader

word count: 7.9k :)

a/n: hello hello hello! this is my first hotch fic, and the first of three parts (edit: it’s actually 5 now lolol). it’s going to cover 8 (maybe 9?) events over the course of several years, so it needed to be broken up in the most rational way possible. this is my baby, and has been in the editing process with my lazy brain since september. please, please, please, let me know if the timeline or anything is confusing to you! i have a tendency to under explain things (as my profs will testify to), and i don’t want y’all to be confused. i hope whoever stumbles across this enjoys!

also, big shoutout to @winterscaptain, you are a gift to the world, tali. i am in love with the ajf universe, and that shit inspired me to polish this piece up for the tumblr verse to see. 

alright friends, here we go.

link to part 2: here

**** 

June 2005

You wouldn’t forget your first day in the BAU for as long as you lived. It was forever ingrained in your memory, the good, bad, and embarrassing moments all stored away. Stored away that is until Derek Morgan decided to dredge it back up as you passed your six month mark on the job. 

Derek, Prentiss, Reid and yourself were finishing up paperwork in the bullpen after an unusually slow friday. You were usually the first one done, earning a groan from the doctor across from your desk. They all envied your English degree and professional writing skills. 

“Hey bobo,” The nickname Derek had assigned to you was named after your alma mater, and extremely annoying. “Remember your first day, when I tricked you into doing Prentiss and my paperwork for almost two weeks?” You shook your head, not having to look at Morgan to be able to hear the smirk in his voice. “Do you think I could trick you again?”

7:47. Thirteen minutes earlier than you needed to be. Yet the room full of agents you were supposed to join was already filled. You liked these people already, they were punctual and functioned in the morning. 

You pushed one of the glass doors open with your ballet flat, juggling your box of office supplies while keeping your crossbody balanced on your shoulder. The sound of fingers pounding on keyboards, phones ringing on loop welcomed you into the BAU. Along with a shove to your back, causing you to lunge forward. You felt something cold run down your back, cursing yourself for wearing a white blouse.

“Are you alright?” You looked up to find a tall mop of brown hair and big brown eyes looking down at you. “Well, I’m a little damp.”

He nodded while looking at your box full of sticky notes and pens. “You must be y/n l/n. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. We’ve been taking bets on what time you’d arrive. And you beat us all with your extreme punctuality.” You laughed. “Sorry to let you down. It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” You extended your hand for him to shake, but he just stared at your extended limb.

“Yeah, he doesn’t do that sort of thing.” The new voice came into view, shaking your hand that was meant for Reid. He was tall like Spencer, but was lean with a smile on his face. Confident. “I’m Derek Morgan. When JJ told us the new recruit graduated with an english degree, I expected someone with tweed elbow patches and big round glasses.” 

“You’re an english major? Statistically speaking, only three percent of the agents that have been recruited for the BAU didn’t have any background in law enforcement or field experience.” This wasn’t the first time you’d been questioned at the FBI for being a liberal arts degree profiler. Your english degree and your fresh age of twenty five left many people to dismiss you through your time in the academy. But you got used to it. 

“Sorry to disappoint your stereotypical profile of an FBI agent,” You started, shifting your weight between your feet, now uncomfortable and a little embarrassed in front of your new co-workers. 

“Oh I didn’t mean it as an offense. I-” “He’s a genius, but he lacks some social cues. You’re the first girl he’s been around that’s his age in the workplace.” Morgan added and Reid elbowed his ribs. You covered the smile on your face as the two of them started to quietly bicker. 

“Let the poor woman go and settle in at least before you harass her.” A brunette woman in a black pant suit came walking toward you. She had a stern face while looking at the two men, but when she turned to you, her face softened into a smile. “Special Agent Emily Prentiss. You do not understand how happy I am to have another woman out in this bullpen.”

You laughed as she led you to the empty desk across from Dr. Reid’s. “Welcome to your new home.”

“Thanks.” You placed your box down before taking the place in. “I’m supposed to meet with SSA Hotchner,”

“Agent l/n,” All heads turned to the man descending the stairs into the bullpen. He was taller than the other two, and that was saying a lot since they practically towered over you. He had a clean boys haircut, paired with a suit and tie. No question that this was the unit chief you were to report to. “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. Welcome to the BAU.” He shook your hand before looking at the others. “JJ’s ready to debrief in the conference room.”

And just like that, the three agents sprung into action, leading the way to the board room. “We can go over the particulars when we get back from Nebraska. You ready for your first case?”

His face didn’t change, no change of tone in his voice. He lived and breathed for the BAU. Until you noticed the wedding band on his left hand. It was always the first thing you looked for when you met someone new. It was shallow and patriarchal, you knew, but it was instinct. And it put you at ease knowing there was someone out there he was doing this for. Someone he didn’t have to hold this demeanor around. 

“Ready.”

“Funny. But if you have any other insults to give, direct them to the head of the english department at Bowdoin. Mention that you’re talking about y/n l/n, with the 4.0 GPA.”

Prentiss led a slow clap as Derek shook his head. 

“I think that’s what the kids are calling a ‘mic drop’.” Spencer added and you couldn’t help your laugh. “Alright kid, why don’t you get out of here before we inevitably find ourselves back.”

You turned off the lamp on your desk and grabbed your crossbody and backpack. “Have a good weekend guys. And Reid,” He looked up, and you laughed as he pushed his hair out of his face. “Please recite the old testament for these two if they mock me while I’m gone.” He gave you a mock salute as Prentiss flipped you off on your way to Hotch’s office. 

In the six months you’d been here, these three people you shared the bullpen with had quickly become the siblings you never had. Morgan acted as your annoying older brother, constantly picking on you and Reid. Not only were you the newbie, but you were now the youngest, only a year behind Spencer. Emily Prentiss on the other hand, was the protective older sister you always dreamed of. She was confident and held her own against the male dominated team, but knew when to be soft spoken and caring with victims and the team when needed.

And then there was Dr. Spencer Reid. The smartest person on the planet, in your book. Sure, he was a little socially awkward and didn’t know when to stop listing off all the stats he knew, but you understood. He was consistently the youngest and smartest person in every classroom he walked into. There weren’t many people that wanted to get to know him without bullying him or picking apart his eidetic memory. Despite the problematic first encounter you shared, the two of you stuck together considering your combined intellect and young age. He taught you the ins and outs of the BAU, and helped you get accustomed to D.C. Although, Spencer himself hadn’t really ventured out into the city in the four years he’s been here. So the two of you tried to see as many things as you could in the rare weekends that you weren’t working a case. You worked your way through a third of the smithsonian's, and saw the Declaration of Independence. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little emotional while looking at it. Spencer had called you a nerd, and you didn’t mind one bit. 

You walked up the steps to Hotch’s office, case reports in your hand from this week. The blinds were open, you could see him working through the stack of files on his desk. Despite the exhaustion written all over his face, his sport coat was still on, tie still impeccably tight around his neck. Even when he was in private he kept up the put together facade.

You knocked on the door, and heard a quiet ‘come in’ as you twisted the door knob. “L/n,” “I have my case reports from this week.” “Just place them on my desk.”

“How much longer are you here for?” He let out a sigh while closing the file in his hand. 

“Another hour or two.” You opened your mouth to respond, but he beat you to the punch. “And before you offer to stay and help me, I don’t need any help.”

“You just don’t want to listen to me singing Coldplay under my breath.” He huffed out a semblance of a laugh. A month into your bout here, Morgan had accosted you on the jet on the way home from Milwaukee. None of you had slept in three days, and you were currently enthralled in your new mp3 player and Coldplay's newest album ‘X&Y’. After the third song, a paper cup was thrown at the back of your head, followed by a ‘I’m trying to sleep, bobo’ from Derek. It was a habit of yours that you had yet to kick. 

“That’s part of the reason.” “I knew it.” He opened another file, and you took that as a cue to wrap up the conversation. You rummaged through your purse, looking for the blue envelope you sealed this morning. 

“Um, I also wanted to drop this off. It’s for Jack, you mentioned he was being Christened this weekend.” You placed the card on top of the pile of paperwork, your cursive handwriting on top. “I was going to get him a stuffed animal or some type of toy, but he’s only three months old and wouldn’t know the difference. This check may be the penny that helps you guys afford Harvard.”

A real laugh escaped his lips now, as he picked up the card. “Thank you, y/n. You didn’t have to do this.” You smiled. “I know, but I wanted to. He’s a cute kid.” 

He looked at the framed picture of Jack on his desk, then back up to you. No one else had mentioned the Christening after Hotch first brought it up. He was quiet, and only liked to talk about his family if he initiated the conversation. You could tell you were the only person who had reached out like this, with a simple gift. 

Hotch had been the hardest person to get to know in your time here. Despite Morgan saying there are no secrets kept among the team, you knew these people had their demons. And Hotch certainly had enough both professionally and personally. You didn’t want to push the professional boundaries, but you always wanted to be present in the lives of people that you shared time with. To let them know you were thinking of them, and cared for them. It was probably your most damaging personality trait.

“I’ll let you finish your work so you can get home at a reasonable hour. Tell Haley I said hi.” He nodded. “I will y/n. Have a nice weekend.”

****

December 2005

You pride yourself in the fact that you haven’t shot your weapon in the year you’ve spent with the BAU. It meant that you were successful at connecting to these people’s emotions, despite the asterisk next to their name labeling them as a serial killer or sadist. Guns were there to protect you, and they were always the last result. But as you pulled up to a log cabin in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania, you had a feeling your record was going to be broken.

The team was working a case where six bodies, two adult males and four teenage males, were found mutilated, along with a cut from sternum to belly button. It was the first case you worked that had no female victims. A small victory, in your mind. But, it was also the first case you worked that the profile of the unsub fit a sixteen year old girl, who had most likely been assaulted as a young child. When children were involved, the team acted differently. They were failed by the people that were supposed to care for them, they were consistently hurt with no one to turn to. And as a result, they would spend the rest of their lives paying for it. 

You, Prentiss, and Hotch got out of the suburban, strapping the bullet proof vests onto your bodies. Thanks to Garcia, you had found the unsub’s location once she turned her cell phone back on. A cruiser pulled up behind you guys, two more cops falling out. 

“Prentiss, you take the two officers down with you to the exterior basement access. L/n and I will take the main floor.” Hotch ordered as he pulled his gun from his holster. 

You could feel the anxiety rising in your chest, but there was no time to calm it down. You barely had enough time to strap on your vest. 

“Ready?” Hotch looked at you before taking another step toward the cabin. You nodded, pulling your own gun from it’s holster. “Ready.”

You followed him up to the front porch, announcing yourselves before kicking the door in. You cleared the living room as Hotch cleared the dining room and bathroom, leaving you both to meet up in the kitchen. 

That was where you found her. You saw her first, hiding half of her face behind the rifle that she had pointed at you. She was trembling, dried tear streaks left on her cheeks. She was petrified. 

“Stephanie Moore?” Her grip on the gun tightened at the mention of her name as you heard Hotch’s footsteps get closer. “My name is Y/n L/n, I’m with the FBI. I don’t want to hurt you Stephanie, but I need you to put the gun down.”

Hotch joined you on your left, both of you directing your weapons toward the young girl. “I did what I had to do to survive. They took everything from me, every last shred of dignity I had. I wasn’t going to let them kill me.” You never thought it would be possible for your heart to break while listening to an unsub. But this tiny girl standing in front of you, with her whole life ahead of her, it just hit you too hard. 

“I know you did, Stephanie. You were so brave and so strong. Not many people could survive what you did.” She started to loosen her grip on the rifle, you were getting through to her. “I’m here to help you. I want to put an end to all of this.”

You glanced at Hotch and he gave the slightest nod, giving you the okay to take a step forward together. “I couldn’t let them get away with it.” Ever so slowly, the gun started to lower in her hands. 

“You’re doing great. Just a little lower and this will all be over.” Before she could completely lower her weapon, you heard the storm door to the basement slam shut. 

Stephanie jumped, raising her weapon back up in her hands.

“You said you were here to help me!” She exclaimed, the gun pointed at you as Hotch took another step forward. “I am Stephanie, but other members of my team are trying to help the boy you took.”

Fresh tears started to fall down her cheeks and you knew you were losing her. “Y/n,” 

He whispered to you and she moved the gun from your chest to Hotch’s. “Shutup!”

“Stephanie, hey, look at me,” She shook her head, continuing her stare at Hotch. “He’s in on it, he has to be!”

“He’s not! He’s my boss, trust me, Stephanie.” You heard the safety go off, and before her foot landed as she took her first step towards Hotch, you emptied two rounds into her chest. He rushed forward as she fell, kicking away her gun and checking her pulse. Nothing. 

You lowered your gun as your breathing increased, looking at the lifeless sixteen year old lying in front of you. A hand covered your mouth as you realized what you’d done. 

You killed her. 

You remembered what it felt like to be sixteen. Struggling to find your identity, wanting so desperately to be noticed by someone. For anyone to reach out and help you. 

But you took that away from her. You ended her life before it even began.

“Are you guys okay?” You heard Prentiss come up through the basement, but your eyes were closed as she entered the room. “We’re good. Y/n took the shot.”

Hotch stood up and dared a look at you, taking in your grief stricken state. “Did you find the boy?” 

“Yeah, he’s gonna be fine.”

Before Emily could greet you, you ran to the corner of the room, heaving up whatever was inside your almost empty stomach. Your throat burned as you threw up for a second time, vaguely registering two people calling your name.

“You’re okay, y/n,” Prentiss approached you, gently resting a hand on your back. You coughed a few more times before a towel was being rushed to your side. “It’s okay.”

The whirring of more sirens forced you to open your eyes and straighten up from your sick position. Prentiss had eyes filled with concern, not letting go of you until you gave her a slight nod. She handed you a water before she exited the house, letting two uniforms in. They went straight to Hotch, asking questions and looking over the body before their eyes landed on you. You felt exposed, like you were the one lying lifeless on the ground for all to see. You took a few deep breaths to get your breathing under control, and tore your gaze away from Stephanie. 

Hotch finished his conversation with the officers before walking over to you. “Hey,” He rested a hand on your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but flinch. “It was a clean shot, but protocol states they have to take your gun and badge as well as give a statement to IA.” You nodded, taking your badge from your pocket. “They’re gonna take you back to the station and do an interview. This should all be wrapped up in a few hours. We’ll meet you back there, alright?”

You glanced up at his big brown eyes, warm as they bore into yours instead of their usual slanted nature. “Okay.”

The two officers escorted you to their patrol car, taking your badge and gun before you got in. You felt naked without them, like you were a nobody wandering the streets looking for someone to help, or looking for someone to help you.

It was a good thirty minute ride to the station from the cabin, and when you got there a detective from IA was already waiting for you. They led you into an interrogation room where they already had Section Chief Strauss hooked up through video call. Great. 

The questions they asked were pretty straight forward, nothing that couldn’t be answered by a crime scene report from the technicians. But the government insisted on interviewing cops involved in shootings, just in case it wasn’t legal. As if anyone wanted to deal with the psychological repercussions of taking another’s life. 

It took them nearly an hour and a half to get through the interrogation. In part due to you almost throwing up a third time as Strauss asked you to repeat the moment you shot Stephanie. They gave you a few minutes to regroup, some ginger ale and crackers from the vending machine to help settle your stomach. They took your fingerprints last, letting Strauss finish up with the bureaucratic discussion.

“That’s all for now Agent L/n. We’ll debrief tomorrow morning when you’re back in Quantico.” “Yes ma’am. Thank you.”

They led you out of the interrogation room and back through the lobby leaving you at the conference room your team had been set up in the last three days.

The white boards were still littered with images of the victims, crime scenes, and the unsub. Piles of evidence were scattered along the table, and you tried to resist looking through them again. You knew if you went through the images of the mutilated boys again, you wouldn’t survive the emotional turmoil. But you needed to know that you made the right choice, the only choice to prevent more families from going through the same pain and suffering as the Corbins. 

You turned to the white board, glancing at the first victim. Connor Corbin was fifteen years old, on the varsity soccer team, and involved in musical theatre. He was cousins with the teenager that abused Stephanie. She targeted all the men in her abusers life, letting them know what he did to her. Wanting them to understand the pain she’d had to endure because of their ignorance.

You looked through the rest of the victims, the abusers two younger brothers, father and uncle were among those killed. The boys were only twelve years old. You brought a hand up to cover your mouth, remembering meeting their mother on the first day you were here. JJ was the one to speak to her, as the communications liaison, most people trusted her with being the most empathetic. That fact was up for debate, in your opinion. She was a wreck, and JJ needed help comforting her from Morgan. But you understood, boy had you understood. Her whole family was killed. 

“Y/n,” You jumped, startled by the new voices in the room. Hotch, Spencer, and JJ had arrived back at the station. “Did they clear you?”

You nodded as Spencer walked over to you. “Yeah, Strauss just wants to debrief again tomorrow morning.” “Of course she does.”

Section Chief Erin Strauss is a hardass and not the biggest fan of the BAU. “Did they give you your piece back?” Your hand immediately flew to your left hip, void of your gun and holster. “No, I completely forgot about it.” You went to move toward the door, but Spencer laid a hand on your forearm. “It’s okay, I’ll get it.” He gave your arm a comforting squeeze before leaving the conference room. 

You spared a glance at Hotch as you started cracking your knuckles. “JJ, why don’t you call the airstrip, tell them to get the jet ready.” “Yes sir.”

In an effort to keep your mind busy, you started to take down the pictures from the white board, erasing all Reid’s notes in his barely legible handwriting. The boy had three PhD’s, yet couldn’t figure out the concept of penmanship. 

“Are you alright?” “Fine.” You pulled an empty manila folder out, stuffing Connor’s pictures in. “You don’t have to clean this up for them.” “I know.”

He sighed. “Y/n, stop.” His voice was stern now and you dropped the files. “I asked if you were alright.”

“Why wouldn’t I be alright, Hotch?” You crossed your arms over your chest, letting a breath out. “We found her, we saved her from hurting anyone else, and we brought closure to Mrs. Corbin. Case closed, the BAU gets to go home.”

Your eyes started to water but you refused to bring your hands up to wipe them away. You wouldn’t let them fall. “We’ve all been where you are right now.”

“I’m confident that you’ve never felt what I’m feeling before.”

“Try me.” He didn’t flinch, his hands remained in his pockets, stare heavy on your own. 

“When JJ presented this case to us, that two teenage boys and their fathers had been murdered, it was a no brainer for all of us to take it. Two twelve year old boys dead, two more teenagers missing, how could we not take it? But then we got here, and we met with the victims' families, we learned the boys' backgrounds, the unsub’s profile.” You scoffed, not sure who you were angered with at the moment. “This girl was raped by a seventeen year old boy and his father for two years, and we’re still supposed to treat her like a monster, like Tim Vogel?” You shook your head. “I’m not condoning what she did, but, can you blame her? And then we went in, and she had a gun raised at us. I would’ve been able to talk her down, I know I could’ve saved her if she didn’t have the gun.”

“But she had a gun.” You nodded. “She had a gun and it was raised at you. And I didn’t even flinch to take the shot. All it took was two seconds for me to forget her pain, her trauma, and reduce her to a sick serial killer.”

Even though that’s what Stephanie ultimately was, you didn’t want to accept it. Because she was a person before she went through all that pain, she was someone’s daughter, who was involved in gymnastics and softball, and had stuffed animals scattered across her bedroom. God, were you ever going to forget what she looked like?

“Feeling guilty about taking someone’s life is a good thing. It means your human, that you care.” Hotch freed his hands from his pockets, taking the file you packed out of your grip. “You’re not like them, y/n.”

You dared a glance at him as you felt more tears spring to the surface. Those big brown eyes could tell a story all on their own, and right now, they were pleading for you to believe him. You would try. 

“Got the goods.” Spencer came back in, your gun and credentials in hand. “They really had the audacity to I.D. me, as if we hadn’t just worked a case with them the last seventy two hours.” 

He got you to laugh, which served you enough cover to wipe your eyes dry. And out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw a rare smile cross Hotch’s face. 

But Aaron knew there was more to your guilt than just this little girl. He was the leader of this team, it was his job to know the people he was in charge of like the back of his hand in order to keep them safe. And in the year that you’d been here, he noticed how reserved you were. Too reserved and too broken for a twenty-six year old. How you took on the giver persona to hide the fact that you were terribly closed off to others and your emotions. You would be the first to offer help, to be a listening ear, or lend your shoulder to cry on. But you never accepted it from anyone. Not that you had to, until today. 

When Hotch started to notice you and Spencer growing closer at the three month mark, he was excited. Proud, even. He knew you were struggling with the gruesome cases (he knew you threw up after every crime scene, despite your best efforts with barf bags and travel size mouthwash) and hoped you could share your burdens with the young doctor. But it seemed like they only grew in time, like the smile on your face. Hotch just hoped you knew your limits.

“Gather whatever else you guys need for Quantico. Wheels up in thirty.” Reid nodded for both of you as Hotch left the conference room, presumably to find JJ. 

“Everything okay in here?” He asked as you continued to empty the white boards, this time at a faster pace. Of course he had noticed the red rim on your waterline and the red tip on your nose. Spencer could read you better than anyone else, regardless of being a profiler or not.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just talked through the case.” His feet stayed nailed to the ground, yet his eyes continued to stick to the back of your head. You sighed and stopped moving, turning to face him. “Spencer, I can feel you boring holes into the back of my head.”

He had a sheepish smile and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. We have copies of all this back at the office, I already faxed it over to Garcia. Why don’t we spend the next twenty eight minutes searching for a good burger before the flight home.”

You smiled. “Okay. As long as I can get a vanilla shake, too.”

****

May 2006

Growing up, you always wanted an office job. A boring nine to five with your own cubicle, a script to follow when your phone rang and a customer needed help. You’d have a generic wall calendar pinned on the particle board, sticky notes littering your monitor screen, and maybe a few pictures of pets and future family. It was safe, predictable, and what you were constantly told all you would be capable of.

Now, as you’re sitting on the FBI owned jet with your six special agent coworkers, you can’t imagine living that life you once dreamt of. 

It was nearing two a.m., and you were two hours into the flight home from Los Angeles. Reid was passed out on the couch, Prentiss and JJ in the same state of mind in the cluster of four chairs, legs spread out. Morgan and Rossi were sitting across from one another, each listening to their own playlists. And by the way Rossi was tapping his fingers against the arm rest, you knew it was some genre of opera. 

This left you in the back of the jet, staring out the window as you passed over Nebraska. You always had the map up on your screen, wanting to know every state you passed over. No matter the case, you always looked forward to the plane ride. It calmed you, oddly enough. 

“Not tired?” Hotch took the seat across from you, handing you one of the two cups of tea. “Plane rides are too exciting for me to catch any sleep.”

You took a sip of the hot drink and your face scrunched out of instinct. You never liked tea, but you tried it again and again when people assured you that it would calm you down. It never worked. 

“You could just say no,” He added and you smiled. “I know. But my taste buds may change one of these times.”

He took a sip out of his own cup, no change of expression on his face. You couldn’t help the chuckle that left your lips and his eyes narrowed on you. 

“What?” 

“Well, you may enjoy the taste, but it seems like it’s calming chamomile effect has never worked on you, either.” “We’re not supposed to profile each other.” 

“Then don’t even think about rattling off excuses of why I’m not sleeping.”

He looked down at his cup, slowly nodding his head. “Well if you don’t want to talk about what’s really bothering you, because I know it’s not sleep, I can bore you with Jack’s sleep routine we have to stick to.” You smiled. “You know that I’m the only one on this team that would actually be interested in Jack’s sleeping routine. Hell, anything with that chubby little baby would interest me. Bring it on, Hotch.”

It was no secret that Jack Hotchner was your favorite person on the planet. Not only was he the chubbiest little nugget you’d ever seen, he was the result of two of the strongest people you knew. 

The first time you met Haley, she was six months pregnant with Jack, begging Hotch to leave the office early for a date night. You made the afternoon walk up to his office, dropping off some files for him to sign when you first saw her.

“Come on, Aaron. This baby is going to be here before we know it, and who knows the next time we’ll have any alone time will be.”

Before he could respond, you knocked on the open door. Both of their heads snapped over to you, and a red blush of embarrassment spread across your cheeks. “Sorry to interrupt, sir. Just dropping off some reports for you to sign off on.”

You smiled at the petite blonde woman while placing the files on the desk. “It’s okay l/n. This is my wife, Haley Hotchner. Haley, this is Agent y/n l/n, she started about a month ago.” She smiled back at you, extending a hand to shake. 

“It’s nice to meet you, y/n. I’ll leave the agent part out, it makes you sound like a robot.” She said and glared at her husband before placing her hand back on her growing belly. You laughed once you heard Hotch let out a breath, knowing he wasn’t offended with her joke. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” The smile only grew on your face as you looked at her, admiring her own belly. “Congratulations on the baby. It’s always exciting to bring a baby into the world.”

“Thank you. If only my husband thought going out with me was half as exciting, he would’ve been gone a half an hour ago.” “Haley!” He was more than surprised that she would speak so cavalierly while at the office, especially around someone he had barely gotten a chance to know yet. But the two girls only shared a laugh.

“Hotch, why don’t you go. I can hold things down around here.” “Y/n, it’s not your responsibility to. And quite frankly-” You dropped a file to the desk, boldly interrupting your bosses statement. You were only acting like this because you knew his wife deserved half the attention he gave to this place. “It’s a friday night, and your beautiful, pregnant wife is asking you to go to dinner with her. JJ and I will be here if anything comes up, I’ll even redirect your calls to my desk.”

“I like you.” Haley said with a smile, gently squeezing your shoulder. “She means business.”

Hotch let out a sigh, reluctantly grabbing his briefcase and punching a few buttons on his phone to make sure his calls went to you. “You or JJ call me immediately if I’m needed.”

“Promise. Now go have fun.” He gave you the smallest smile as he grabbed Haley’s extended hand to him. “Thank you, y/n. I owe you one.” Haley said as they exited his office. But you weren’t looking for a favor in return. You did this to make them happy, and you always felt better when those that surrounded you were at their best.

But Haley did end up paying you back. She asked you to babysit the first night her and Hotch went out after the baby was born. Apparently, she was impressed with your background in social services that Rossi had drunkenly let slip at the office christmas party. And only you would get excited to babysit a poopy baby, for free. And you continued to do it as many times as they needed you to.

You earned a smile from the reserved unit chief, and raised a fist in the air. “I’ll have to add that to the team tally sheet. I’m now tied with Reid for the lead in making you crack a human expression.” “Doesn’t matter who’s in the lead, you’re all behind Jack.” He quipped back and you returned his smile.

You looked back out the window of the jet, the view of any terrain was quite literally clouded. You could see the moon reflecting on the puffy clouds, and you knew then and there you could be converted to a night person if you could look at this view every night.

“I wanted to check in with you, about Randall Garner.” You looked back to your boss, eyes glued to your own, an earnest gaze in them. “With what happened last time-”

“Last time it was a sixteen year old girl. This time it was a psychotic father who was torturing his child. There’s a broad spectrum.”

“So you don’t feel guilty about taking his life?” The way your stomach flipped at the mention of your actions merely hours ago should have worried you more than it did. 

“Of course I feel guilty.” You quipped back, and quickly looked around to make sure you didn’t disturb anyone else. Hotch didn’t even flinch. “I didn’t take this job to play God. I wanted to help people, I wanted to stop people from getting hurt. To be on the other side of the heartbreak.”

Before transferring to Quantico, you worked as a social worker in Brooklyn for three years, straight out of college. You saw first hand the horrors and trauma that came with being in the foster system, and you wanted to help children going through the same situation you had. 

This became your life, even after you escaped it. And one day, it became too much. You needed a fresh start, to make a change and help people from a different platform. And with your degree in English, and minor in psychology, the BAU seemed to be a perfect fit for a new career. 

“Why did you leave DCFS?” It irked you to no end how his voice stayed so calm when he was clearly agitated. Especially since the silky smooth tone had talked you off an emotional ledge one too many times.

“Why are you interrogating me? Strauss said it was a clean shot, that she was proud to have a man like that dead and accounted for.” A direct quote from the ever emotionless section chief. If only she had any field experience, she would understand what this job was like. “Besides, I’ve been here for a year and half. You should have my file memorized by now.”

“Half of your file is sealed. Strauss must have a soft spot for you.” You actually laughed at that. Strauss most certainly did not have a soft spot for you. She was however under orders from the Attorney General of New York to keep my file sealed, no matter my employer. 

“My sealed file has nothing to do with the actions I took tonight.” You uncrossed your legs now and turned your body to face him. This conversation wasn’t ending any time soon. “If I needed help grieving this process, I would ask for it, Hotch. I’m fine.”

He wanted to believe you. More than anything else, he wanted to believe that you had found a routine that helped you forget the daily horrors you saw. But he knew that you were the last to leave the office every night, he knew you drove home with the light on in the backseat of your car every night. Deep down, he knew you weren’t fine. 

“We don’t ever truly know the people we work with. Despite the fact that we say there are no secrets in this unit, we all have our own demons we hold onto. I know you’re not fine, y/n.” You let out a strained laugh as you started tapping your foot anxiously against the ground. 

“I do though.” For the first time tonight, Hotch had no idea what you were talking about. His furrowed brow only made your throat tighten. “I know every single one of these people’s secrets. They confide in me because they know about my past with DCFS. Everything I knew was confidential, and it ate me up inside not being able to tell anybody the horrors these children go through.” You ran a hand through your hair; the flood gates were open. You feared there would be no turning back now. “It started out as me just wanting to get to know them. I wanted to be liked, and I wanted to trust my coworkers. And then overnight, I became Father l/n, sworn to secrecy by the Parish of the FBI. I’ve become a suggestion box, papers filling me up to the top and no one is coming to empty me out. 

“But I can’t even be mad at them,” I said as my eyes started to water, remembering what Spencer said to me two months into our friendship. “Spencer told me I’m the only person that’s ever listened to his problems without suggesting that he see someone to talk to. He said I was the only person that’s ever laughed at his stuffy jokes without making fun of him. I can’t be mad at them for confiding in me in their time of need. But I’m just,” You tried to smile as a tear rolled down your cheek. “I’m just really overflowing.”

Aaron Hotchner was lucky enough to have never experienced a heartbreak in his life. He met Haley his junior year of high school, she was his first and only girlfriend, hurling him into a life of love and happiness, sparing him any pain from loving someone too much. But as he watched you break in front of him, feeling so overwhelmed by the responsibility to be everyone’s rock, to be everyone’s source of light, he experienced his first heartbreak. And he was sure he never wanted to feel it again.

“So confide in me.” You didn’t think his tone could become any softer. His baritone voice had already been strained to keep from waking the others, and he somehow became even softer. But you shook your head, quickly bringing your hands up to wipe the tears that fell down your face. “Why not?”

“Because you’re the boss. You have all of us to worry about when we’re in the field. You have Strauss breathing down your neck, waiting for one of us to screw up.” He rested his elbows on his knees, slightly leaning toward you. “Most importantly, you have Haley and Jack that need you to be their confidante. That beautiful family needs you to be there when you’re not here.”

“Y/n, if you can’t come talk to me when you’re drowning in your own thoughts, I’ve failed you as a boss.” He sighed at your continued silence. “I can’t force you to open up. But I can’t watch you give and give and give without earning a reprieve of your own.”

So the two of you sat there, in a deafening silence, as you counted the seconds passing by. You were both too stubborn to pull away first, because that would be admitting defeat, and this conversation would end then and there. You counted to one hundred and eighty seconds, three minutes, when you finally got tired of staring into the endless brown eyes of Aaron Hotchner. 

You thought carefully about what you were going to say, what you would reveal in the magic that covered the two a.m. air. And no matter how hard you tried to in those one hundred and eighty seconds, you could not keep your eyes from watering.

“I grew up in foster care.” You started, scanning his face for any judgements. You weren’t going to find any. “The last, and most permanent foster parents I had were horrible. It was basic shit that happened to every kid in foster care, nothing scandalous enough to get them to be turned in. But their birth son,” You swallowed, trying to resist the urge to pick your fingernails. “He moved back in with them when I was fifteen. He was a loser, and he started to take a share of the subsidy checks. I heard him in the living room one night with Charlotte, one of the younger girls that lived there. She was only twelve, and I found him pinning her to the couch, a knife to her throat. And I just snapped. I lunged at him, knocking him off of her. It’s all blurry now, except for when I stabbed him in the throat.” My hand scratched at the side of my neck, subconsciously finding the spot I stabbed him. “He died before the ambulance got there. Charlotte and I both gave statements, and it was ruled as self defense. But the statement still lives in my file, and with some convincing, I got Strauss and DCFS to keep it sealed.”

In all honesty, Hotch didn’t know what to expect when you decided to open your mouth. But he never would’ve guessed this. Not from the doe eyed kid that never forgot a birthday, that got everyone a donut and coffee on Monday mornings. Not from the kindest person he worked with. 

“You know that took a lot of courage to get out, so it would be nice if you could say something.” You started to panic, wondering if he saw you as a monster, as a killer.

“You were the oldest one there, weren’t you?” Your eyes widened, how did he know that? “You grew up quick and took on the role of the parent for those younger kids. You wanted them to be safe, stay innocent for as long as they could.”

You finally tore yourself away from his gaze, starting to become too strong. Baby steps. 

“None of us had a family. I tried my hardest to shelter them from those people and make a family out of the five of us. And it worked. Because all four of them still reach out and tell me how successful they are.”

“But they don’t feel like your family.” You had a sad smile and looked back up at him. 

“Do you ever stop profiling?” He mirrored the smile you gave him. “No, they don’t. But I was old enough to understand that they needed each other more than I needed them. Besides, I found a pretty weird family to take me in.”

You earned another laugh from Hotch as you made a check mark in the air, referencing the team tally. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, searching through the cash and cards he had in there. 

“What are you doing?” He pulled out a thin wallet picture and turned it over to you. It was of him, Haley, and Jack on his first birthday. “You’ve got more than one weird family to belong to.”

He extended the picture to you, but you shook your head, the anxiety forming a pit in your stomach. “Hotch, this is your family. I can’t,”

“You can. And this family wouldn’t be half as happy as they are in this picture if it weren’t for you and everyone on this team.” You smiled down at the picture, Jack had frosting from his birthday cake all over his face. You reached out and took it between your fingers. “You’re a giver, y/n. You wear your heart on your sleeve and exude more empathy than we know what to do with.” You let out a laugh as you pulled out your own wallet now, tucking the picture in one of the plastic sleeves. “It’s time you learned how to accept the love you give.”

It was deep, too deep to be coming from your boss on the private jet at two in the morning. But he was more than just your boss, and they were more than just your team. And this job, boy this job was so much better than sitting in a cubicle, answering questions from a recited list.

****

#aaron hotchner x female! reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #jules writes shit ??

[lavenderpearls]

Some thoughts about Basta (and Capricorn)

I just saw a post about the Inkheart characters and how PTSD could be a possible explanation for Basta‘s behavior. And I had thoughts about it.

So I decided to share them, even though I have no idea if anyone is interested in this.

I think that PTSD is kinda a part of what’s going on with Basta. We know he had a rough childhood, wasn’t treated well by his parents or the people that were supposed to care for him back then. And later Fenoglio stated that Capricorn didn’t treat him much better. (And let’s be honest, we also see that Capricorn only „cares“ for him as long as he‘s useful). And then there’s all the other stuff, like that time he got both his arms burned or later when Mo read him, Capricorn and Dustfinger out of their world.

So yeah, he surely has been through a lot.

But while that would be enough to end up with PTSD, I think he fits the criteria for Antisocial Personality Disorder a bit better.

According to the DSM-5 the symptoms of Antisocial Personality Disorder are

• Failure to confirm to social norms concerning lawful behaviors, as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest. (Do I even have to say anything here?Basta killed people, is the reason for Dustfingers scars, stole stuff, broke into houses, used to set things on fire, kidnapped people, all of this multiple times and in Inkspell it‘s literally mentioned that he was arrested after Capricorn died)

• Deceitfulness, as indicated by repeated lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure (Tbh this is more of a Capricorn thing, who also has ASPD imo, just a different subtype, but I‘ll get into that later)

• Impulsivity or failure to plan. (Throughout all the books Basta is CONSTANTLY doing impulsive stuff, and in Inkheart Capricorn literally said that this was a problem with him)

• Irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults. (I can’t mention all the times this was the case, it would be too much)

• Having no regard for the safety of self or others. (Pretty self explanatory.)

• Consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations (A little more difficult, because of the way the inkworld works and how Basta's life turned out in our world. He‘s never had a normal job. His job basically was being a criminal.)

• Lack of remorse, or inability to feel guilt, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another. (The times he killed people and didn’t give a shit? The fact that he had no problem with threatening children? Just to name a few things. He never really seemed to feel guilty for all the things he did. The only time he kinda feels bad about it is when he thinks this could cause problems for himself, like that time he made sure the cat in Meggies room could escape through the window. He didn’t care about the cat. He was worried that it would bring bad luck to him to let it starve in there. Just as an example.)

So with all this we can be pretty sure he has ASPD.

But there’s more to unpack.

One of the criteria for the disorder is that these or at least similar antisocial behaviors already occurred before the age of 15. We don’t know exactly if they did, but I think we can assume it. If I remember it correctly Fenoglio mentioned that Basta was younger than Meggie, wo was 12 at that time, when Capricorn took him in. And probably not because he felt sorry for the boy, but because he saw something in him that could be useful later.

Speaking about Capricorn. I said that I’m sure he also has ASPD. But he’s pretty different from Basta. At least in some ways. He’s so cold most of the time, much less impulsive, he’s able to plan ahead and also to control a bunch of other criminals.

To make this a little shorter, there’s a lot of different theories about this that include different subtypes, but one basically says that you can somewhat put people with ASPD in two different groups.

The ones that are cold, more rational and manipulative (like Capricorn) and the ones that are more openly aggressive and impulsive, like Basta. (That’s also where people sometimes draw the line between psychopaths and sociopaths, even though there‘s also a little more to that, but I‘m not gonna get into it now cause this text is already ridiculously long)

But to stay with all this 'subtype of ASPD'-stuff for a little longer - you might wonder at this point where Basta's superstitions and his constant fear of bad luck fits into all this. And I have a theory for that as well.

Malignant Narcissism. A syndrome first described by Otto Kernberg. It’s, to keep it short, a mix of narcissistic personality disorder (which btw very often appears together with ASPD) and ASPD.

It’s, apart from all the stuff I mentioned earlier, characterized by sadism (remember how Basta actually enjoys threatening people, how he likes to tell stories about all the awful stuff he and others did in detail, watching people get uncomfortable, etc? Sounds pretty sadistic to me.) AND paranoia. He’s constantly afraid something bad is gonna happen. But this could also be due to some OCD that he might have as well. (I gotta say this here, with personality disorders it’s not uncommon for people to have multiple ones that overlap. That’s what often makes it so hard to give a proper diagnosis.)

But what’s more interesting to me is that malignant narcissists, while usually not caring about anyone but themselves and being unable to maintain healthy relationships with others (remember when Dustfinger was hiding in Bastas house and mentions that Basta has literally no friends?), can show some sort of loyalty to a few people. Which is the case for Basta, since he‘s incredibly loyal to Capricorn.

So while generally being a pretty awful person, Basta has, at least somewhat, the ability to care about a selected few individuals.

Which I think is also the reason why there’s more fanfiction about him than Capricorn. Capricorn doesn’t care about anyone. He doesn’t even care about his own mother, or Resa, who was known to be his favorite of out all the maids. As soon as she caused problems for him, he decided to get rid of her. So with him, there’s a lot less to explore and to work with.

And, something more general about ASPD, it‘s as far as we know at this point, usually caused by a combination of genetic and environmental factors, such as neglect or abuse during childhood.

And Capricorn is a great example for this, since the genetic and environmental factors are both definitely there. We know his father used to beat him, and Mortola displays a lot of ASPD symptoms herself.

And for Basta, it was mentioned that he was a very unhappy child. Sadly we don’t know anything about his parents or what exactly happened during his childhood. (Maybe we could ask Cornelia about his parents in the next livestream?)

There’s still more I could talk about, for example some interesting studies about ASPD and reactions to fear that would also apply to both Basta and Capricorn, just in different ways or how ASPD works in general, but maybe I‘ll make a different post about that sometime.

Also feel free to tell me what you guys think about this, it‘s super interesting and I bet there’s even more to say that I haven’t talked about.

#inkheart #basta inkheart #inkworld #inkspell #have I mentioned how much I love Basta? #probably more than once but anyway #I had these thoughts for a while now and felt like sharing them #also be aware that Im just a psychology student not a professional

[perseusannabeth]

I'll Hold Your Hand - modern AU Nessian fic

Summary:  Cassian is finally going to spend some alone time with Nesta, and he's going to woo the shit out of her. He's totally going to seduce her. This is his chance, finally! However, when he gets to Nesta's flat, he realises that this may not be the best time for seduction.

Notes:  This is not beta-read so please let me know if there are any mistakes! I wrote this for my friend @acourtofmarauders who asked for some Nessian fluff. If anyone has any acotar prompts they would like me to write, then please send me an ask!

Cassian would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn’t dressing extra carefully today. He had spent 2 hours going through every combination of outfits he could possibly wear, and another hour (once he had chosen an outfit) had been dedicated to fixing his hair. He was nervous, and that was a new feeling for him. Cassian never got nervous, especially when it came to women.

Nesta Archeron however, was no ordinary woman. In fact, when she was angry, he wasn’t even sure she was a woman, she looked like a dragon sometimes, with smoke blowing out of her nostrils when she got angry and ready to breathe fire and burn down whoever angered her, which was usually him. He loved it though. At first, he just loved pissing her off for the sake of it. He didn’t hate her, he just didn’t really like her either and she irritated him, got under his skin and somehow knew how to push all the wrong buttons. Now though, he just loved to watch the way her cheeks would flush, her brows would furrow, and the slight clench of her jaw. He enjoyed their verbal sparring, which he had come to see as a release for the tension between them, only the past few months it felt like the verbal spars were not enough to get rid of the tension.

If she could see him now, primping and preening in the mirror for hours on end, she would have insulted him till he begged for a reprieve, but he doesn’t care. He wants to make sure he looks irresistible but make it look effortless. She could never know his effortless look took him 3 hours. In fact, none of his friends could ever know. They would never shut up about it. He thanked the cauldron that Azriel was spending a few days away with Elain so he couldn’t witness what a mess he was. Sometimes living with your brother had its downsides. He was just thankful that Rhys didn’t still live here. He shuddered at the thought of Rhys and Feyre seeing him getting ready for his not-date with Nesta.

Cassian knew he was acting like this was a date, but he didn’t care. Nesta had invited him to go over to her flat when she was home alone to eat junk food and watch films together, and Cassian was ecstatic. If he had known that mentioning that he had never seen Lord of the Rings, despite having read all the books would have made Nesta so outraged that she’d invite him to spend time with her, then he would have mentioned it ages ago.

He looked at the clock again to check if it was a reasonable enough time to set off. He didn’t want to get there too early, as eager as he was, because that might annoy Nesta and he didn’t want to start their 12-hour marathon with Nesta being angry at him. He also would rather die than get there late, so he kept checking the clock. Nesta had told him to come over for 6 pm so they could marathon all three of the films. She had warned that it would be an endurance test and that if he was a “weak ass bitch” (direct quote from Nesta herself), then she would “leave him for dead”.

Cassian looked at himself one last time in the mirror. His hair was tied in a messy man bun that had taken way too much time to make it look so effortless and not as though he had run in the wind. He had kept his outfit simple, wearing a grey fitted shirt which he knew made his muscles look great, and his favourite joggers which he knew did wonders for his ass (not that it needed help but still, every little helps where Nesta is concerned). Nesta had warned him to dress comfortable, but that didn’t mean he had to dress like a slob.

He grabbed his favourite red zip-up hoodie, made sure he had his phone, charger and keys as he walked into the kitchen. Nesta had said she would have some snacks but Cassian wanted to do a little extra, so he had prepared a pasta bake, which just needed to go in the oven when he got to Nesta’s place. He had also taken the liberty of buying an assortment of junk food, including sour sweets (Nesta’s favourites) and Yorkie chocolate bars (Nesta claimed she started eating them out of spite and can’t stop. He’s too afraid to ask what that even means).

He somehow managed to lock up while holding the pasta bake and the tonne of junk food, and then went and put his things in his car. He tried to drive as slowly as he could without annoying other people on the roads, just to make sure he didn’t get there too early, but still ended up arriving 15 minutes earlier than he was supposed to. Still, Cassian decided Nesta couldn’t be too mad at him for arriving early (could she?) so he decided to take a chance and go up to her flat.

He knocked on her door cautiously and heard a muffled swear from inside which made him grin. Perhaps their little Lord of the Rings marathon wasn’t only making him nervous. The idea that Nesta was nervous too made Cassian grin even wider, his heart fluttering slightly at the thought of Nesta getting nervous because of him.

The door swung open, interrupting Cassian’s thoughts. Nesta stood in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. She looked… tired? It threw Cassian, seeing her like this. Her hair was in a messy plait that she had clearly slept in, she was wearing what looked like some Mulan pyjamas and a pastel pink fluffy dressing gown over them. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, she looked a little sweaty, her eyes were half-closed as she looked at Cassian. This was not the poised and ready to step on his balls while wearing high heels Nesta he was used to.

“Hi sweetheart, are you okay?” Cassian forgot all about any ideas to woo Nesta, worry at the forefront of his mind now. Something was clearly wrong because Nesta would rather die than be seen in this state, especially by him.

“Hmm? Don’t call me that,” Nesta protested half-heartedly, her eyes still half-closed as she leaned against the door frame, her head moving to rest against it as though it was too heavy for her to carry.

Cassian decided to throw all caution to the wind and step forward, lightly touching her arm while balancing the ridiculous amounts of food he had bought for the two of them. “Nes, you don’t look very well. Are you okay?”

“I was gonna call you to cancel but then I got really tired and fell asleep. It was just really exhausting getting out of bed to go to the bathroom and kitchen so I had to rest on the sofa.” Nesta said softly. It was strange hearing the normally sharp-tongued Nesta sound so soft and sleepy. He had never seen her so vulnerable, and it made his heart swell.

“Why do you have your head against the doorframe sweetheart? You have a temperature too?”

“Yeah, I think so. Also, I’m a little dizzy right now. I’m not too bad when I’m ill usually, but the flu always affects my balance because once I had an ear infection.” She moved her head from the doorframe, turning her head to look at Cassian with those beautiful, sleepy eyes. As she moved her head, she swayed a bit, her grip tightening on the door frame as she did.

“Right, hang on a second,” Cassian said, quickly spurring into action and moving past her to put down the food he had bought on the kitchen counter, before rushing back to the front door, closing it and slowly guiding Nesta back to the sofa in her living area. Once he had Nesta safely seated, he let out a breath he had been holding.

“Thank you. You don’t have to stay, you know. As you can probably tell, I’m in no fit state to watch Lord of the Rings right now. Plus, the only correct way to do it is to marathon them and I don’t have the energy for that,” Nesta let out a small, sad-sounding sigh which sounded more like she was struggling to breathe as she lay herself down.

“That’s fine, we can watch Lord of the Rings another time. I don’t mind,” Cassian smiled at her softly as he grabbed the blanket at the foot of the sofa and covered her in it.

Nesta frowned. “You don’t have to stay,” she repeated.

“I know I don’t have to stay, but I want to stay.”

There was silence as Nesta looked at Cassian, confusion written all over her face plain as day. She never made it this easy to read her, but Cassian enjoyed the fact that for once, he might be able to guess what’s going on in her head.

“I… I don’t… why?”

“Why not? You’re ill, nobody else is here. I’m not going to let you deal with this on your own, especially when you tell me you’re getting dizzy. It’s not safe. Plus, I don’t mind what we do, even if it’s just sitting here and watching some mindless TV while you doze off. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“Oh,” was all Nesta could say to Cassian’s confession. He couldn’t be sure, but she almost sounded shocked? But surely not, because he always told her how much he enjoyed talking to her.

“Okay, so have you had any food, water or medicine today?” Cassian asked, getting into his ‘nurse Cassian’ way of thinking, as Azriel had lovingly named it back when Azriel had been very ill when they were younger. Cassian just couldn’t help himself, he always felt the need to protect those he loved.

“I had some water and 2 cookies when I woke up. I fell asleep pretty soon after so I haven’t had anything else yet.”

Cassian frowned. “Nesta, it’s now past 6. Are you telling me that all you’ve had today is 2 cookies and a glass of water? What the fuck!”

“I fell asleep, that’s why! I only just woke up when you knocked on my door. Plus, it’s not so bad, I woke up at 1 pm today so it’s only been a few hours,” Nesta said defensively, a little sharpness returning to her voice.

“No wonder you’re feeling dizzy, you’ve not had any medicine or anything of nutritional value to eat, and most of the day has passed! Come on, what do you want to eat? Anything specific?”

“I don’t care as long as it’s not soup. I’m not dying, I still want real food, and soup never tastes good. Plus, I used to have it all the time when I was younger, it reminds me too much of starving and shoving random things in a pot to make ‘soup’ that we would have tiny little portions of so that it would last us a week.”

Cassian has never heard Nesta talk about their childhood. He knew from Feyre how tough things had been, but Nesta had never once spoken about it. He had always assumed that she didn’t care, and from what Feyre had told them, both her and Elain had pretended nothing was happening. Perhaps, Cassian mused, there was more going on there too, more than what she had let her sisters see.

“Okay, no soup. I made a pasta bake so we could always have that. It just needs to go into the oven for a little while. Does that sound good to you?” Nesta nodded, making Cassian smile.

He was glad that his pasta bake would come to good use. He was just glad that despite the fact that Nesta probably didn’t want him here, she didn’t seem to be kicking him out. He wanted to be able to help her and look after her. She hated people seeing her vulnerable, he knew that, and he was honoured that she was putting up with him and allowing him to be there for her.

Cassian walked over to the kitchen, put the oven on and pulled some dishes out of Nesta’s cupboards while the oven warmed up. Once the oven was warmed up, he put the pasta bake into the oven and set a timer on his phone, making sure it was on vibrate so it didn’t make too much noise and startle Nesta.

While he had been rattling around in the kitchen, Nesta had put the TV on and started Netflix up and was looking through to find something to watch. She eventually decided on Queer Eye but had the volume on very quietly, so it was just some comfortable background silence. Cassian glanced at her on the sofa and saw her struggling to keep her eyes open.

“Where do you keep your medicine?” Cassian asked, deciding he should also see what she had in her medicine cupboard too.

“There’s some in the small cupboard right at the end and then there’s some stuff in the bathroom cupboard too,” Nesta answered, jolting at the sound of his voice as she kept almost falling asleep. Cassian could see that she was fighting valiantly to stay awake. She would probably fight the illness with the same kind of energy and knowing Nesta, be fine in no time through sheer determination alone.

Cassian looked through the cupboards and managed to find some lemsip tablets in the bathroom, as well as the powdered stuff in the kitchen. “Do you want lemsip powder or tablets?” he asked as he walked towards her, holding both up in his hands.

“Ugh, the tablets for sure. The powered stuff tastes like shit. I used to suffer through it and drink that shit until Feyre told me that there was a tablet form of it.” Nesta looked at the offending powder with disdain, narrowing her eyes at it as though it had offended her.

“Okie dokie! The powder stuff is definitely evil. I don’t know how we’re expected to drink it. It does not taste like lemon and lime, it tastes like lies and poison.” Cassian said, throwing the powder back into the cupboard.

His phone started buzzing in his pocket and he quickly went to take the pasta out of the oven. He quickly plated it up for Nesta, putting it on the coffee table in front of her along with the biggest glass he could find, full of water. He then went to get his own plate and water and sat beside her.

Nesta looked at him suspiciously and then looked at the pasta in front of her. Cassian just grinned at her and started eating. Nesta watched him for a minute, before following his lead. Cassian knew as soon as she had put the fork in her mouth because Nesta let out a positively sinful moan.

“Fuck, that’s amazing,” Nesta said, looking over at Cassian, her eyes widened with shock.

Cassian felt his cheeks heat a little, a combination of her praise and the incredibly sexy noise she had let out. He would usually have made a dirty comment after hearing a noise like that, but he decided to hold back for once, only going easy on Nesta because she was ill.

Nesta ate the food at a slightly alarming pace, and Cassian was half worried that she would choke on her food at the speed she was eating, and was on edge just in case he needed to quickly stop her from choking. Nesta didn’t pay him any attention, eating and watching Queer Eye.

When her plate was empty, she drank some of her water. Cassian got up, taking both the plates to the sink and grabbing the cold and flu tablets and handing them to Nesta. She silently took one, before lying back down again.

Cassian turned back to the kitchen when he heard a soft “thank you” coming from the sofa. He stopped in his tracks, not quite sure he had heard it right. He looked at the TV, wondering if he had just heard it from that, and then looked at Nesta, who was watching him.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Cassian asked as he started washing their dishes.

“I know you heard me, don’t ruin it now by being a bastard.” Cassian simply raised his eyebrow at her, before drying his hands and putting cling film on the remaining pasta and putting it in the fridge. “I said, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I’m glad you enjoyed the food,” he said, sitting down near Nesta’s feet. She lifted them to make room for him. As he sat down, he pulled her feet back into his lap. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better. I guess you were right about the whole food thing making me feel better.”

“Wow, who would’ve thought we’d see the day where Nesta Archeron admits I was right?” Cassian said, feigning shock. Nesta huffed and gave his leg a light kick. “But seriously, you knew the food would make you feel better. You should take better care of yourself. Or maybe, let others in to take care of you from time to time. Like this, us right now.”

“But I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” Nesta said, not angry, the way she had said those words many times in the past. Just softly, stating a fact, but her voice tinged with confusion.

“Look, Nesta, admitting that you need help occasionally doesn’t mean you’re weak. Everyone needs help from time to time. Needing someone to take care of you when you’re ill doesn’t mean you’re needy or dependent or a burden on someone, it just means you’re human. And believe it or not, not everyone is out to get you. There are people in your life who would gladly help you, and ask for nothing in return.”

“Like you?” she looked at Cassian with an emotion etched on her beautiful face that he had never seen before. It was hope, softness, and perhaps maybe even fondness for him, all rolled into one.

“Nesta Archeron, I would drop everything to come and help you with whatever you needed, however stupid or mundane you might think it is.” Nesta looked away, and let a small smile grow on her face. Cassian had seen Nesta smile before, don’t get him wrong, but they were more smirks and ‘I’ll kill you’ smiles, in the heat of their arguments. This smile was something different altogether, and it reminded him of how Nesta truly took his breath away.

“I’m tired,” Nesta said after a few minutes of silence.

“Okay, well then you need to sleep.” Cassian stood up, switching the TV off, pulling the blanket off of her and picking her up. She barely weighed anything, which worried Cassian. He didn’t want to annoy Nesta by monitoring her eating habits, especially because he didn’t know why she was so underweight and that could be a risky move, but he hoped he would be able to get her to eat more. He’d even cook for her himself if she wanted.

Nesta, surprisingly, did not react when he picked her up. She just put her arms around his neck and stared at him as he carried her into her room. He placed her softly onto the bed, took her dressing gown off her and hung it up, then tucked her into bed. He then went back into the living room, picked her glass up from the coffee table, filled it up with fresh water and put it on her bedside cabinet, next to some more cold and flu tablets. He then turned to leave Nesta in peace, when she called out for him.

“Cassian?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He asked, turning around. “Do you need anything else?” Nesta nodded, then gestured for him to come closer.

He walked closer until he was looming over her bed. She slowly reached out for his hand, and kissed the back of it, then let go and smiled at him. “Thank you, for taking care of me.”

“Is that what the kiss was for?” Nesta nodded. “Well sweetheart, if you want to thank me then there are plenty of ways you can thank me when you’re feeling better,” he smiled.

“I would’ve kissed you properly now but I don’t want you to get ill either. I’m nowhere near as good of a nurse as you are.”

“What you might lack in the care department, you could make up by wearing a sexy nurse costume.” he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

She laughed. “I think that would make you stay sick for longer.”

“I think you’re right,” he said, joining her in her laughter.

Nesta’s laughter subsided. She stared at him openly, her eyes roaming all over him. “Will you stay?” she said eventually, so quiet he could’ve missed it if there wasn’t total silence around them.

“Stay here?” he asked dumbly, not quite believing she would want him to continue to intrude, especially when she was about to sleep.

“Yes. Stay with me, please,” she said, her soft sleepy voice returning, her eyes starting to close before she opened them again. Cassian could see how much force and effort it was taking for her to keep her eyes open. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He grabbed Nesta’s armchair, where she no doubt spent many an hour reading her romance books, and pushed it until it was close enough to the bed that Nesta could reach out for him if she wanted.

He sat down on the chair, and Nesta instantly grabbed his hand, the same one she had kissed. He watched as she drifted off in a matter of minutes, the medicine making sleep come to her a lot quicker than usual. Even as she drifted off, she did not stop holding his hand at all. Cassian ran his thumb over the back of her hand softly, repeating the motion as he stared at the beautiful woman before him. He wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t a dream, but if it was he never wanted to wake. Nesta’s face was much more relaxed now she was asleep, the frown lines and pursed lips smoothed out. She looked, younger, and almost carefree, apart from the clear signs of fatigue that lined her face. The bags under her eyes were prominent, and Cassian knew she studied into the night, working herself too hard.

Still, Cassian mused to himself, perhaps now that Nesta had let him in, he could convince her to take better care of herself. He needed to make sure that she knew that Cassian was in this for the long haul, and perhaps she would lower her walls more, and finally let him in.

As he drifted off to sleep, still holding her hand, he realised that perhaps she already had let him in.

End Notes: Thank you to everyone who is reading! Please let me know what you thought of it. Also, I've realised that perhaps some of the things I mentioned are very British? I'm not entirely sure but I figured I'd give an explanation just in case.

Yorkies are a chocolate bar, which used to have the slogan 'not for girls' which is obviously very dumb. They changed it years ago, however, before they changed it, when I was younger, I ate the chocolate bar out of spite because the slogan and some boys said I couldn't do it. The adrenaline rush was just wow, a lot at the time for an 8-year-old.

Lemsip is medicine for colds and flu. Most people tend to have the powdered stuff, which you have to mix into boiling water and drink like its tea. It claims to be lemon and lime flavoured but it's actually just lies and makes me gag because it's disgusting. I was very offended because I suffered for all these years but then my sister told me there were tablets too??? Betrayal??? Nobody bothered to tell me???

#nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #my fic #i've not even properly proofread this so there may be mistakes #not sure if i even like it i'm just posting it #also posted on a03 #text

[popculturebuffet]

Darkwing Duck: My Valentine Ghoul Review aka A Bad Episode Even by Valentine’s Day Episode Standards

Welcome back Darkwings of the Night. It’s time to go back to St. Canard for the very review that got me to finish up my look at the episodes that should’ve lead up to Just Us Justice Ducks and the episode itself last month. While I probably COULD have reviewed this one before finsihing that as continuity’s pretty loose here, I wanted to see Negaduck’s proper introduction first. So was it worth it?

Yeah while I was glad to get one of my retrospectives done and free up some room for other stuff, this episode..was an objective disapointment and might be even worse than “Brush with Oblivion”. If your curious to know why and aren’t already lobbing a harpoon at me for bashing an episode you liked, join me under the cut. 

On PAPER this episode sounded really good. Negaduck trying to seduce Morgana back to crime and in general after Darkwing once again neglected her is not at all a bad premise and the in episode conflict of Darkwing’s obnoxious supscioson of his girlfriend being an ex con, COULD’VE been really interesting. But there’s a reason Could’ve was in all caps folks: This episode is not very well put together and it’s gender politics have aged like fine santa liquor left split in a bathtub surronded by toxic waste for 20 years, and tastes just as bad. Trust me I know. My colon still hasn’t recovered. So let’s get into WHY shall we? 

So we open with a date in a graveyard with Darkwing and Morgana, unsuprisingly though Darkwing isn’t the fondest of their meal which... look like someone scrambled the Star-Spawn of Cthulu. He’s going to be pissed.. especially once I try some. Look i’m very curious and very hungry. 

But things take a turn when Darkwing brings up diamonds, because he’s fully insensitive enough to bring them up in front of his girlfriend. She does take the truth in stride: he’s not proposing he’s simply hung up on a case of diamonds going missing, and no solution and thus might have to cut the date short. She offers to go with him but he shoots her down, saying the last time she helped she turned him into a rutabega.. instead of you know TRAINING her and helping her on her aim.  Then the episode looses me.. and about how long into the episode are we exactly? Not taking the theme song into acount?

Yup. It takes around 2 minutes, with some change. for the episode to become absolutley terrible. But first off Morgana suddenly flies off the table claming he dosen’t trust her for being a former criminal and zaps him in vengance.. which is assualt. Cartoony assault sure but it still hurts and his reactoin is STILL pure feer as he’s turned into some kind of ball... I mean.. it’s not like he can’t fight crime like that. Some of the best have done it. 

But still she goes to physical violence at the drop of a hat this episode and Darkwing seems more than a little afraid of that happening again. Just... wow.  I thought, having finished the Legend of the Three Cablleros, i’d be done with writing so poor a character comes off as a domestic abuser, mental in that case phsyical here, but here we are. Now this is untetional so I don’t blame the writers as much.. but I still heft some blame on them for being SO bad at writing a woman that she can’t get angry without phsyically attacking her partner or grasping the implications there. 

Oh and it gets worse. Yes, it somehow gets worse from “Morgana attacking darkwing for upsetting her”. Darkwing proves to be pretty vile himself, as when Morgana accuses him of not trusting her due to her criminal past.... he says “You know what they say once a crook always a crook. “

My.. fucking.. god.... the show is stacking unfortunate implications on top of itself like lego bricks. And yes attitudes towards prisoners were much worse back then, I get that. Dosen’t make it tolerable to HEAR someone spouting that bullshit, let alone our protaganist. And while it doesn’t make her right to shoot lighting at him, as she does after this or attack him before... it does mean he’s a massive, mentally abusive dick who refuses to trust his partner who reformed FOR HIM, just because she used to do crimes. It takes a special kind of bad writing to screw up so badly that two of your heroes are immensley unikeable in the span of minutes but they did. CONGRADULATIONS DUMBASS!

So yeah Morgana breaks up with him and he tries to go after her  and Gosalyn, who was there the whole time with eek and squeak,  decides she needs to get the two back together. 

I mean at least Gosalyn MEANS well. As a result despite her helping them not being a good idea, she’s one of the most likeable characters in the episode. At least for now. The most likeable?

Yes. REALLY. Now granted he’s as much of a bastard as always; After seeing Morg’s tantrum he wants to seduce her back to evil to help with his diamond scheme, unsurprisingly he’s the one stealing them and his plan to do so.. is not all that bright as he fakes being good to get into her good graces.. forgetting that he’s going to need to show her he’s bad again for any of his plan to work, as during the climax i’ts revealed he’s using a candy company as a front for diamond smuggling. Now granted that.. is actually really clever as no one’s going to think to check a shipment of choclate boxes for diamonds unless their tipped off and he even mentions starting a candy company earlier, so that being his scheme dosen’t come out of left field and i’ts  a clever misdirect that you’d THINK he was lying about the Candy Company.  But while Negsy doesn’t’t escape the contagious case of stupidity everyone’s got this episode, he’s still entertaining as ever and Jim cummings manages to make saying “Well be the best of pals” pants crappingly terrifiying. So Negaduck is a delight as always even if his plan makes little sense, as his way of going about it is still clever: he fakes being good and both uses this to make darkwing jealous, thus making him seem irational, and to provide a shield and also forces himself on their valentine’s date. He even gets past Morgana rightfully beign supsicous by playing to her past. So yeah not the best plan OVERALL but damn if he still isn’t awesome.  They visit a carnival, ah feels like home, though this one has a freak show where MORGANA feels like she’s home. After trying to fry Darkwing and making him look like the bad guy Negaduck manages to seperate the two in the tunnel of love then use darkwing’s own jackassery against him by claming he left saying once a crook always a crook. He hten.. comes on way too strong, first asking if she’s thought about going back to crime when they get back to her place and then isn’t resceptive when he just tries to fully turn on the charm. Oh and Darkwing walks in and thinks his gilrfriend is cheating despite her not returning Negaducks affections because he’s a douchebag.  Gosalyn is in the house at the same time as after Negaducks earlier deception, Eek and Squeak flew her back to Morgana’s house to use the Necronomiduck, which talks like he just walked out of Beast’s house because of course he does, and gets a love potion.. which they accidently spray on Darkwing instead. So we do get one of the few GOOD parts of the episode where Darkwing acts all buddy buddy to negaduck and Negaduck even gets rid of him just by telling him to go jump off a cliff. And the combination of Drake acting all sachrine again, much like posiduck, and Negaduck’s clear annoyance and confusion is just comedy gold. 

Sadly that ends and Drake returns and a fight breaks out with Morgana accidently freezing darkwing and when trying to freeze negaduck, he simpy reflects it back the obsconds with her ice cube. 

While Gosalyn and co thaw her dad out, Negaduck explains the whole choclate scam and Morgana refuses and they fight, with Negaduck covering her in chocolate.. then darkwing when he shows up as you’d expect. Darkwing however has buzzsaw cufflinks, a wonderful 60′s batman type gag, and saves them both.. btu the love potion ends up on Gosalyn who covers her dad and possible step mom in frosting

Thankfully it wears off fast, and morgana gets the idea to put the love potion, which is air born into the gas gun, finally getting Darkwing to trust her and blasting Negaduck, then suckerpunching him when he gets close. Oh and despite her plan being VERY obvious , Darkwing STILL questions her flirting with the guy. 

So the day is saved and we end with him questioning her order at dinner that night and her .. attacking him. And Gosalyng saying “Well you always hurt the ones you love”

Final Thoughts: .I do not like this episode. I do not like it on a moat, on a boat or with a goat or in any way shape or form even though that breaks the ryhme. Reviewing it only had me finding MORE problems with it. Morgana and Darkwing are so unsympathetic here, with her violence towards him making it seem like “Aw all couples are just the woman chasing the man around with the frying pan.. or lighting bolts in this case” even though that’s sexist as hell at BEST and makes light of domesdtic abuse towards men at worst.  Darkwing gets off no better, being THAT kind of asshole who assumes just because someone used to be a criminal they always will be. Which even in pastiche makes no sense as I can name tons of superheroes, a who USED to be criminals or villians: Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch, Black Widow, Luke Cage (Before becoming a superhero), Scott Lang Ant-Man, Hal Jordan Green Lantern, Cassandra Cain, Simon Baz, Mach 10, Songbird, Quicksilver, Rogue, Wonder Man, and Emma Frost. And that’s not getting into the number of heroes, including many on this list, who went evil fo ra bit and came back from it.. some of whom are on this list. Usually his black and white insanity schick works but the episode does nothing to punish him for it and instead makes Morgana seem just as irrational by attacking him. 

While this episode dosen’t use the love potion badly, thank god, with morgana even calling it a bad idea.. i’ts all I can give it outside of negaduck. The love potion and negaduck gags are both great.. but everything else is just so toxic and odious it makes it very hard to enjoy. And so.. this wins the DUBIOUS honor of being the worst Darkwing Duck episode i’ve seen so far. The plot’s weak, filled with horrible outdated ideas even by the time this was made, and no one is likeable, even Negaduck wears out his once he starts getting a bit too pushy with morgana. All in all a waste of potetial and a good episode. Until the next rainbow, this episode can step on a rusty railroad spike and get tetnus. 

#darkwing duck #drake mallard #gosalyn mallard #morgana macawber #negaduck #jim staring #disney #disney plus #valentine's day #ducks

[fuckyeahscienceparty]

Sequel to your among us fanfiction where Medic ends up falling asleep on Engie and he *doesn't know what to do*

[sequel to "Like That?"]

-

Safe Keeping

In which an imposter experiences feelings he's never felt before and gets some needed rest.

-

Engie was honestly pretty glad Medic decided to join him for security that night. I mean, yes, the kisses were nice and so was having someone to talk to, but honestly, he kind of understood what Medic meant when he said he liked being around him.

Being around Medic just made him feel... happier, he thinks. Secure, maybe. An odd feeling considering his past tribulations with humans, but a feeling he enjoyed nonetheless.

He was actually about to ask Medic another question about his job with the Red Cross on Earth before he was stopped short by the feeling of Medic slumping against him, his head resting against Engie's shoulder as a soft snoring sound escaped him.

Engie's eyes widened, the purple blush starting to creep its way onto his face once more.

"Uh. Doc?..." He asked hesitantly, gently shaking Medic in an attempt to wake him.

No response. If anything, Medic got closer to him, burying his face in Engie's shoulder.

His skin felt like it was buzzing again.

Sure, he'd seen Medic fall asleep before, of course he had, staying up late together was kind of their thing. He'd just pick him up, ship him off to his personal quarters, and head into his own room for the night, but this was the first time he'd actually. Fallen asleep on him.

He knew he should probably wake him up. Unlike his companion, he wasn't an Expert on human anatomy but he knew it would probably be best for Medic to sleep in an actual bed rather than upright in the plastic wheelie chairs of the Fortress's security room, but he just looked so... content. And peaceful. Not to mention as the only medical professional on the ship, Medic regularly had to stay up late to make sure things were running smoothly for the rest of his crew and any amount of sleep he could get was probably for the best.

Long story short: He just didn't have the heart to wake him. And believe him, he had 2 of the suckers.

Engie checked the time. 6 am. Only 3 more hours and the Fortress would be up and running once more, with crew mates and his fellow imposter wandering the halls to complete their tasks for the day. Surely he could just let Medic stay with him and get some shuteye.

Engie looked back to the human sleeping on his shoulder. He wasn't sure if he'd ever stopped to take this good a look of Medic's face before but as he did, the buzzing sensation in his skin seemed to intensify.

The bags under his eyes were a given. Medic had always made it clear that even on Earth, he wasn't one to have any semblance of a cohesive sleep schedule (which, again, was concerning, but seemed to be the way Medic operated). His glasses had been pushed up slightly, Engie moving them a bit, almost instinctively, so they rested on top of his head instead.

His dark hair seemed to be laced with strands of grey, combining with the soft wrinkles on his face to imply signs of age, though he knew Medic was only 34. Stress was probably the more likely answer; Engie couldn't remember a time when the man had ever made an attempt to relax.

His gaze then fell to Medic's lips, slightly parted as he breathed in and out, making the occasional snore. They were softer than he expected them to be, Engie noted, flushing a deeper purple as he brought a gloved hand to his face and warmly remembered the feeling of Medic's lips against his cheek.

He really didn't mean to get this attached. He didn't even know how it happened, after all the other ships he'd sabotaged and crews he'd ruined with little to no remorse.

There was just... something about him, he supposed. His endless fascination with different forms of life. His little quirks that seemed to put off everyone else but made Engie realize just how human he really was. The way his eyes just lit up like stars when he talked about something he was passionate about...

Before he knew it, he'd leaned down a little to press a kiss to Medic's forehead, almost as if to return what had been given.

It was at that moment Medic, unfortunately, had woken up, blinking a few times before letting out a yawn as he sat up in his chair.

"Oh no. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Engie frowned. Medic merely smiled at him, running a hand through his messy hair.

"That's quite alright. It was a nice way to wake up."

"Are you going to head to your quarters now?"

"I most likely should, considering I've just turned you into a living pillow," Medic chuckled. Engie nodded in response, though he seemed a bit... unhappy about the circumstances. Medic's smile softened.

"...I can stay if you want me to. I can tell you don't want me to go," He said softly, Engie waving him off.

"No, no, go sleep, you deserve the rest... starry eyes," He said, timidly faltering on the new nickname. Medic's eyes widened slightly, a twinge of warmth making its way to his face.

"Well... my dear. Perhaps you could come with me instead? Even as an imposter, staring at these screens all night can't be good for you. I'm sure the others wouldn't mind if you took your leave early this one time," He offered, holding his hand out to Engie.

Engie blinked.

"Uh. Yeah. Sure. Yeah, ok," He stumbled out, taking Medic's outstretched hand. The latter stood up and pulled him out of his seat, hitting the button to open the security door to let the both of them out.

Engie couldn't help but stare at their entwined fingers as Medic led him towards his room, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all this newfound affection.

He wasn't complaining though; it was.. nice. Really nice.

When they'd reached his door, Medic pressed the password into the small keypad to its left, tugging Engie into his room when the door had opened.

Medic's room was generally the same as the last time he saw it. A little disorganized, papers scattered all over his desk (and a few on the floor), birds sleeping in their cage in one corner of the room with Medic's fairly small bed pushed into the other.

While Engie wasn't paying attention, Medic started relieving himself from the heavy confinement of his spacesuit, letting out a soft sigh when he'd finally laid it on the chair by his desk. He seemed to be too tired to do much more than that though, opting to crash onto his bed with his black thermal under suit still on instead of changing into more suitable clothing.

"Well, are you just going to stand there?" Medic chuckled, looking towards Engie who had practically stayed in the same spot ever since Medic had let go of his hand.

"Oh. Uh. Should I. Also remove my suit?"

"Whatever you're most comfortable with. I can't imagine it'd be any fun being in that thing all day," Medic shrugged, Engie hesitating before starting to remove his own suit.

He ended up laying it on the floor next to the chair Medic had laid his on, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Medic patted the empty space next to him, almost as a sort of invitation. Engie's skin pricked as he slowly laid down next to him and felt Medic warp his arms around his torso.

"Comfortable?" Engie asked quietly, Medic letting out a hum of agreement before pressing a small kiss to the back of his neck.

Engie himself blushed furiously, carefully putting one of his hands over Medic's as Medic himself pulled Engie closer to him, entangling their legs together.

Before either of them knew it, Medic had fallen back asleep, effectively using Engie as a giant teddy bear. Not that Engie particularly minded, of course. He'd never really been held before and he had to admit: he saw the appeal now.

Part of him was frankly still internally panicking, unused to being this... touchy with other people. He wasn't lying when he'd said he'd felt overwhelmed earlier; today was basically the first time he'd received anything more than a hug from. Anyone, really.

He had to admit, though, the majority of him rather enjoyed the small acts of intimacy he'd shared with Medic that night. It felt odd. But good odd, he thinks. Perhaps there was a reason why humans enjoyed being so social.

As he listened to the soft sound of Medic breathing and the distant rumble of the enginers, surrounded by a warmth he'd never experienced before, Engie felt his eyelids grow heavier. He tried to keep them open with no avail, opting instead to give into tired feeling and close his eyes.

It's just that he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so relaxed, so... Safe.

He supposed he could rest, for now, if only for a few hours. He frankly couldn't remember the last time he'd slept either.

So he let out a sigh and let himself drift off, falling asleep in a matter of moments.

#tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 engineer #tf2 science party #medic x engineer #am #abungus #fic #c's writing #asks #l-i-n-u-s-k-a

[geneclarksboobs]

The Great Peter Infodump of March 2020

yo @brackets-and-woolly-hats @mijaco-geo and @mike-nesmith-for-mayor I have recently been informed that yall would really like me to infodump about Peter and I want to thank yall because I think if I held it in any longer I would explode

Also thanks to the coolcherrycream articles and various interviews that I learnt all these from in the 5-ish months I’ve been thinking about the monkees for

But before I start going hnngggg Peter I would like to warn you that despite my tone this is going to contain some heavy stuff. We’re talking brief mentions of blood, and suicide and death so be careful about that

This is gonna get hella long so *cracks knuckles* let’s begin

Childhood

let’s start from the very beginning: a very good place to start

Friday, 13th February one bb was born and he would always say that Friday the 13th was a lucky day for years onwards

He was born with a lot of diversity in his parentage

He’s Irish and German-Jewish on his mother’s side and Norwegian on his dad’s side

Speaking of Jewishness (is that a word???) I rememeber an article saying that he used to randomly say Hebrew words in interviews and I think he taught Mike how to say something too?? I dont know

Peter was a very friendly boy even when he was just a toddler cus he would drag any new friend he had home

Anyway, he was born in Washington DC

Once on Christmas he went missing and his mum and grams panicked and looked all over the house for him

Turns out he was just waiting at lampost in the snow because he wanted to make sure that Santa would bring him a present

Speaking of Grams, when he was 3 (i think im doing this from memory) he was at a post office with his mother when she came in.

He got uber excited and shouted “THAT’S MY GRAMS. HER NAME IS CAIT!”

And so everyone turned to look at her and he squealed

He would also often ride on the top part double deck buses and whenever the bus slowed down, he would wave to nearby people and say “HI MY NAME’S PETER WHAT’S YOUR?” to which those people who wave back and sometimes answer him. I mean, wouldn’t you?

Also he started to play with pianos when he was 3 and also he liked dancing so that’s cute

One of his first memories was of being at the hospital where his brother Nick (who they called Nicky and that’s what I’m going to call him) was born

Soon after Nicky was born they moved to Germany Yeet. He was 4 and the time and Nicky was like 18 months or smth

Germany

Right so I dont know why people dont talk about this part of his childhood because like,,,it’s interesting??

In Germany they had two maids

They had to put sugar in every food so that Peter and Nicky would actually eat the strange German food

He became very fluent in German and would help his mother with translations

He was also fluent in French for some reason

Someone made a statue of his 4 year old head and it became a famous minor art piece that featured in calendars

It probably now sits in his house because I saw in in the background of the short documentary that his son, Ivan Ivanoli made about him which you sould check btw

Anyway, when Peter was 5 he made his first official best friend Ule who was two years older than him

Once when he was playing hide and seek with Nicky he ran at full force at a closed glass door that he thought was open, shattering it, and getting a shard into his arm. Reasonably he screamed

Apparently, he was hurt a major artery and would have bled to death if not for someone being in the house to call a doctor

Once he was out and about wandering around, as you would do if you were Peter when he was stopped by some official looking guy from going back into his own house.

It’s important to note that Peter looked very much like a German boy and would ONLY talk in German outside. God knows why he did this.  Reasonably, the dude thought he was lying and he had to call for his mum

Anyway, in Germany school starts when you’re five but his birthday was in the middle of the school year so his parents sent him in early which set him up for some outcasted child syndrome later

And then the moved back to America yeet

AMERICA (LAND OF CAPITALISM)

So he moved back into America but it didn’t stop there. No. They had to move around like a 100 different times and as someone who went to a total of 4 different schools (so far oh no) that sets you up with outcasted child syndrome. What also sets you up with outcasted child syndrome is if you’re an undiagnosed neurodivergent which Peter seemed to think he was when he was in his 50s (either ADHD or autism) so uhh keep that in mind

So he was in school and as mentioned earlier he was a year younger than his peers so that’s fun

He was very very clever. Often he would finish his work first and his (4th grade) teacher would make do some reading or creative writing. She encouraged him to do creative writing because she saw some talent in there

Not only was he acadmically gifted, but he was also musically gifted. Playing not only the piano (which he got lessons for) but also the guitar, the banjo, the bass, and the french horn which he got an award for when he was in highschool playing in a band made out of college students for some reason

Speaking of awards, he was once given an award for maths

This giftedness would later set him up for Gifted Child Burnout he had in college

Also he changed schools like a total of 13 times so that’s fun

He went to a private school but apparentl, according to his parents, he hated it (but he remembered liking it???)

Also, he made a lot of jokes in class

Remember Nicky? Yeah, Nicky would often write songs for him to sing and stuff (Nicky would later write songs for Peter’s solo album and a bunch of other stuff what a great brother we stan)

The family had some kind of barn once where he would do puppet shows his siblings

Anyway, school life was all fine and dandy until 5th grade hit and he changed schools and everyone lost interest in him because he was one year younger

Also his dad was apparently very disconnected with him. Needless to say, Peter felt like his father didn’t like him

Once when he was 9, he told his father that he noticed that when the clouds were around at night, it would be warmer during the day to which his father shouted at him saying that “he has no proof of that” and that he shouldn’t say anything without proof

This of course led him to feel like no one wanted to listen to what he wanted to say

poor baby

I think his father would have been the reason why Peter would later say in an interview that he hated “loud abusiveness” the most

He would also later say that a combination of his dad and feeling like he was weird and different would lead him to his drinking problem

So umm we dont stan his dad ok

Once when he was 13 he picked up a loaded shotgun and put it against his head. But he decided that he didn’t want to do it at the last second.

Overall, life from 5th grade till highschool was terrible for him

He didn’t have any friends in his school

So when he moved to a new school in Conneticut where he was surrounded with people of the same age, he was really happy all the way until college where he flunked out twice

Hippie Time (Honestly this part is just me talking about him and Stephen Stills because Steter Stirk changed me)

And so Peter became a hippie in Greenwich Village

In the Village, he became a sort of entertainer. Not just singing and playing, he was also a comedian. 

And then he kept hearing about this dude who looked like him from other people.

This dude turned out to be Stephen who was also hearing the same kind of talk for about the same amount of time

Pete and Stephen VIBED im not kidding they started to play with each other and also Stephen’s room mate who was also there

Also it turns out that they liked to talk about the same things so that’s neat

Peter went to Venuzuela apparently and when he came back the Monkee thing happened yeet

Once when Stephen was waiting to move into his new house Peter was all like “hey dude live with me”

For a while they also lived in the same house when he was Monkee and if that doesn’t fuel any ship fics I dont know what will

Im serious the ship is here and its real I saw fics and fanart

Dont ask about Stirk

They played with the colour tv and would “pick apart each other’s brains” umm

Also Peter’s favourite band was buffalo springfield and we stan a friend who would say your band was their favourite band

And I think this is where my knowledge starts to fade because I haven’t really heard any cool facts from here on afterwards

Last Final Cool Facts

He was a teacher for quite a while and taught about Maths, basketball (despite not liking any sport except swimming) and Easter Philosophy,,,yes easter philosphy the man was into that kinda stuff

Also he was a big reader. Always having a smoll book in his pocket that he would read while on set with the Monkees. But he was particularly a non fic kinda guy

He would write poetry on the back of scripts

In the 2000s he said that his sister thought he might have ADD

Also autism but when asked about it he’d be all P E R H A P S

which is very unhelpful Peter pls give us a straight answer

I mean he cant give us straight answers because he was the gayest monkee (he fricked a dude once but he didn’t like it)

Hey look I ended on a gay note yeet. Thanks for reading this mess

#the monkees #peter tork #blood tw #death ment tw #suicide tw #i think that's all the tws #im finally free of this knowlege #i feel so good #just wait till i come back with a truck of knowledge in 5 months

[frenchtoastpanda]

The Leverage finale

Gonna rant in public because @rainaramsay expressed interest. I have no theme this is just my thoughts as I rewatch this episode. Idk why I’m doing this. (Also I don’t know how to format, so sorry about that)

Oh right I forgot that this is a fucking sad episode why am I doing this to myself

Ooh the return of the Steranko! I am very glad they brought that back

I just love when they bring things back in general, like in the white rabbit job all of the companies looking to buy dogson are previous marks and how they have like three brand names for safes that they reuse a lot. It just makes it feel like a real world that people live in.

The theater! Perfect for Sophie! And the mentioned the tunnels, which I believe we encountered in the gold job

Sophie says “I have just the thing” and my immediate response is always “the play’s the thing” even though I know it’s from a different play than the one they are doing

And can we talk about how they are doing the same play as the pilot? Actually I will probably yell about that closer to the end

Parker being all emotionally cognizant and Nate just reciting physics formulas in response

God I love this bit (and I love that they are still including references to Nate’s alcoholism)

Just, Parker, the new mastermind, who doesn’t “let feelings get in the way” (like Hardison - this is the reason he can’t be the mastermind, much to his chagrin. He’s too much of a cinnamon roll)

Nate says she spins problems like puzzle pieces until they click, but I think it’s more like juggling all the fiddly bits inside a lock until it clicks open

HE TRUSTS HER HE TRUSTS HER HE TRUSTS HER!!!!!!!

Zachary is the lead! Love him!

Sophie saying she doesn’t miss acting at all 😏

She is a good director, though

"I'm exactly where I belong" I'm gonna die I am so happy for all of them

Oh no here we go

Cut right to Nate covered in cuts being interrogated about the mistakes he made

"Mr. Ford, how did your friends die?" CUT TO COMMERCIAL

This must have killed me the first time around

I do love this investigator though. I think I remember from the commentary that it wasn't originally supposed to be her, but it worked out really well

Nate looking around like he's confused (and trapped) while not being able to put together a full sentence (I'm not sure if I ever developed a solid headcannon for how much of this scene was him faking and how much was actual injuries from the actual crash) (I'm open to ideas!)

Ellen giving a vicious predatory little smile when she says that she's here to help him

I wish I could do gifs or screencaps or something. This is one of my absolute favorite callbacks! Parker in that little black bonnet thing jumping off a building having the time of her life and the boys do their "twenty pounds of crazy in a five pound bag" thing (whuch my autocorrect recognized as a phrase for some reason? Do I really yell about that but enough for it to suggest those words in that order? Fantastic)

But this time their faces and voices are full of affection. She may be an insane thief/mastermind, but she's OUR insane thief/mastermind

And coming after the white rabbit job where we had that line about how she's not and never has been crazy, the fact that you can tell they are saying this as a callback without meaning the crazy part is just perfect

It makes me wonder how many other times they have repeated this, because you can't convince me they haven't

Aah Sophie's horrible rendition of Lady Macbeth! Same speech, different ways of doing it just as badly (props to Gina Bellman)

Is this the same outfit? Hold on I need to check.

Y'know, I didn't think they changed that much physically over the years, given that they are adults, but going back to the pilot, I keep going awww look how tiny they were! (Especially Aldis. Like I know they had problems because he was getting too hot and ripped, but Damn)

Anyway, the dress is very very similar, same color and pattern, but it very slightly different. I will maybe post my very very horrible pictures after I finish this

Parker is so good at computers now that she has this adorably bored face when hacking! I love that they taught each other their stuff!

Using chaos as a distraction and co-opting the expected response as a cover! One of my favorite tricks!

Parker changing in the elevator! And the boys turning to give her privacy! And this isn't even the first time they did a callback to this! I love my respectful boys! Remember when Hardison turned the David around? So pure!

Ah, we are setting up for competency porn and then it all goes bad! Aah!

I love Eliot's little "wassup?" Before fighting the guy. Points for intimidation, Spencer

My stronk babies opening an elevator with their fingertips

And Hardison's recurrent fear of heights combined with Parker's love of them

She says "I got you" (twice)

Oh god Beth's acting in the elevator shafts

Oh I'm gonna cry

Oh and a "dammit Hardison"

Oh Gina's face

Even in a situation as tense as this, Eliot still takes the time to empty the gus and toss it away

I don't think I've ever seen him check for an ankle piece, actually. How has that not come up before now?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

"Age of the geek, brother" I'm sobbing

I mean, so is everybody

Look at this acting!

I love that they didn't go for the clichéd established couple dying in each other's arms, but instead put Eliot in the middle, giving us our yummy hurt ot3 goodness

And Parker sitting up so she sees the other two go

Ugh. Where's that poetic cinéma image when you need it?

Anyone remember the perfectly timed bridge from the pilot?

What number Lucille are they on?

I love that they actually stop in from of the barrier at the bridge, then take a moment to decide before just going for the crazy impossible stunt because why the hell not at this point

Ah Nate and Sophie are holding hands on the way to death too!!

And cut the scene before they reach the top of the bridge. Time to see Tim show us why he's an academy award winner

Ooh and here's where we find out she was lying! (Should this be the part where I started wondering if Nate knew? Probably. Did I? Not even a little)

There was a big twist where the person Nate was facing off against was playing him in the pilot too

But John fucking Rogers didn't play ME in the pilot. I take that personally.

Ooh hints at the true story are being dropped

Ellen is almost adequately suspicious

JUST WALK TWO FEET FORWARD ELLEN! LOOK AT THE STAGE! COME ON!

"You loved them very much" Yeah he did. They all did! Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

She knows he's lying, I love that (just like Dubenich knew Sophie was manipulating him)

"The only thing I ever had"? That's intense, Nate

God Tim is a good actor

(Like I low-key don't like Nate at all, but Damn he is well acted)

And he just turns it off, just like that

Wow

I am really into her little impressed face when he goes all Sherlock and explains how he knows they are at interpol

The glass! Of course Sterling brings him the glass! Not a pilot callback, but a good callback nontheless. The commentary says it's literally the same exact glass every time. I will have to go back and verify that at some point. I swear it didn't have those ridges around the bottom in at least one episode, but I also trust John Rogers, so idk

I love how sterling knows everything from the moment he appears, and Ellen doesn't even know what the black book is

"That's why you joined Interpol? Screw justice. You're the order guy?" What a good line for Nate and Sterling's relationship

Nate's not even interested in hearing Sterling's evil speech of evil about the bailouts

I actually really love the little exposition flashbacks

Her look of horror and dawning comphrension when he explains why he is there is fantastic. If we bring this show back, can we have more of this lady?

Yeah, Ellen, why IS he still lying to you??

Sterling remembered to be cautious about the coroner's van, but not cautious enough!

That's some timing. How did Nate arrange that ? Oh right, this was triggered by the arrival of the van, which he probably set the timing of

Nate's face after "Parker's still in the server room." Yes, sell that fear to Sterling! Make him believe he's right! I wouldn't have thought to fake a reaction to that. But that's why I'm not a griffer

And he trusted sterling to have a snark remark so that he could have an attention-stealing reaction to distract him

I try every time to see the kids going in, and I never manage to catch all of them

Why does Nate turn away here?

God, that really is a terrifyingly lifelike Hardison face

I gotta say, the first time I saw sterling shoot the Hardison corpse, I was really convinced that he was right and he was really killing Hardison for the first time

"Second question... No, Nate, why don't you tell her what my second question is?"

Honestly, the first time around, I had forgotten about that secret meeting between Nate and Hardison

"The plan's the thing" A callback to earlier in this episode. I'm dying. I love this show so much

And they can do that without being annoying because every leverage episode is like three or four episodes rolled into one. Sometimes more!

That's one of my favorite parts, but also one of the very few downsides

I get so excited watching the flashbacks that show how it all happened

Omg I love the thing where they stack! Parker crouching, Eliot just above her head, Hardison looming tall! It reminds me of the princess bride for some reason

Sterling is the Trojan horse, the way out is the way in...wait, didn't they do that with at least one other episode, where the floor was a horrible way in, but last minute they used it as a way out?

Are these callbacks or parallels at this point?

Sophie taught Nate how to act! "She found her calling." Yeah she did! So proud of her!

"Your ride to a life sentence in a secret prison has arrived" So dramatic for someone who knows Sophie is behind the wheel

Ooooooohhh he called him James!

"You and I are not the same" okay sterling

"Justice is always easy" YES GO STERLING wait that's a callback to the justice vs order thing earlier in this episode. I just got that

I have seen this so many times and I still notice something new every time I watch it

Does John Rogers have a tumblr? I want to tag him but I don't think he does

What is Parker wearing? Why is one sleeve randomly yellow?

I can't believe Nate is proposing in a hoodie

I love how the kids pop in with insults and Nate just agrees. He knows it's true

That's a huge fucking rock

"Did you steal it?" "No." "Oh, cause that would have been more romantic"

"I'll steal the first anniversary ring" lol I love these guys

Parker insists he follow the proper procedure

Oh wait, the ot3 are gonna branch out with other crews?

Y'know, in an alternate universe I could have shipped Eliot and Sophie

GOD

I'M CRYING AGAIN

"You're the smartest man I know" where have we heard that before?

Parker recognizing her feelings! (And they've been preparing her for this the longest)

Aah, the circle shot from above and the breakaway, but this time not everyone breaks away!!!!!!!!!!

"You do know that Laura is not my real name, don't you?" Sophie I'm gonna kill you

And then the big obvious callback to the pilot, where Beth meticulously studied Tim's acting to recreate it

Loving the look of this scene. The costumes, the blocking, all of it

And they made sure to switch which parent was crying

Very excited for leverage international. Gimme!

#leverage #the long goodbye job #meta #leverage meta #it's less a meta and more me screaming #but whatever #hopefully my autocorrect didn't renter this unreadable

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2015

This is the last list that was kind of difficult to do and where some cuts had to be made. The next four ones weren’t very good years music-wise and generally speaking.

Also there’s something that embarrasses me even more than Blue (Eiffel 65) somewhere on this top ten. Oops.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

2015 was a bit calmer, apart from the fact I moved out of the appartment and bought one instead of renting one. This is still where I’m living nowadays, it’s not big but having no landlord is a LOT less stressful even if it will take a long time to pay the loan (one time the lock broke and I couldn’t get out and the landlord refused to fix it OR pay for a new lock if I decided to call someone to fix it ; another time someone who had a spare key opened the door while I was wearing a bathrobe and was like “oh. You’re here” and I was like “...I mean..... yeah.... 'cause I live here”). I also made new friends online that year and felt less isolated.

Sidenote, my first “flat” mp3 player’s battery died today but after a quick emergency operation I was able to save the data on it. I used that mp3 player from roughly 2008 to 2013 so that’s a relief, it kinda has sentimental value and I was still using it to listen to DW audios nowadays from time to time.

As you can see in the first picture, my super old portable cd player, which still works fine, by the way, is judging this little amateur so hard right now.

So! This is the year Faithless dropped Faithless 2.0, 21 Pilots dropped Blurryface, Mylène Farmer dropped the surprisingly quite good (for this point in her career) Interstellaires, and Carly Rae Jepsen dropped E MO TION, which would have been my favorite album of the year... if Nightwish hadn’t made the absolutely jawdropping Endless Forms Most Beautiful. A symphonic metal concept album about Earth and evolution and the place of humanity in the universe?? Excuse me? Who’s read my christmas list? My favorite songs on it are Alpenglow, Shudder Before The Beautiful, the title track, Edema Ruh which has the best intro, and of course The Greatest Show On Earth, which is an incredibly ambitious, kinda bloated and quite pretentious (in a good way) song about the history of Earth, looking back from a future where mankind is extinct and concluding “we were here”, and holy shit I get emotional every time, and it’s 24 minutes long, and I still never get bored when I relisten to it. Just amazing.

As far as unelligible songs that piss me off go, it’s all Carly Rae Jepsen: I Really Like You, and especially Run Away With Me. If they had been elligible, that last one would be my #1, definitely.

Here’s some... uh, a lot of honorable mentions, actually.

Budapest (George Ezra) and Chandelier (Sia) - Still elligible, still not on the list.

Cheerleader (OMI) - I have no idea why people dislike this song.

Ex’s and Oh’s (Elle King) - This is one of these songs that would be higher on the list if I had better taste. I still like it a lot though.

FourFiveSeconds (Rihanna, Kanye West, Paul McCartney) - Ditto.

You Know You Like It (DJ Snake) - Great drop. The rest is meh.

Miracle (Julian Perretta) - The opposite of the previous one ; a fantastic song let down by its drop.

Uma Thurman (Fall Out Boy) - This song makes absolutely no sense but it’s a lot of fun nonetheless.

Lean On (Major Lazer) - Super overplayed but holy shit this is incredibly catchy. The bridge is especially great.

Want to want me (Jason Derulo) - If this guy had that kind of song in him why does he suck most of the time. What happened.

Hundred Miles (Yazz) - Nice earworm that never got annoying.

Are you with me (Lost frequencies) - Basically a less good version of Waves from the previous year. This is a compliment.

Ain’t Nobody (Felix Jaehn) - And this is the less good version of Rather Be from the previous year. This is also a compliment.

Laissez Passer (Maître Gims) - When I started to check French hit songs from years where I basically wasn’t listening to the general local radio anymore, some friends told me they were grabbing popcorn and waiting for me to start hating some specific acts. Maître Gims was one of them. To their disappointment, I love just about every non-love, non-breakup hit song he’s ever made. Oops.

Love Me Harder (Ariana Grande & The Weeknd) - It took me ages to like The Weeknd but this song helped a lot. This just sounds fantastic regardless of the content (just saying this because I have a tendency to dislike stuff like that). He isn’t even the best singer of the two on this track, wow.

Millionnaire (Soprano) - In a worse year, this would make the list without question. The lyrics aren’t that original but still very good (love the line “remplis-moi les poches d’espoir” (fill my pockets with hope)) and the melody is just beautiful.

On écrit sur les murs (Kids United) - If you recall I put the original version of this on my 1990 list because I liked the Kids United version a lot and also had nothing else to put at the 10th spot on the 1990 list. The fact that I don’t even have enough space for the better version on this list says a lot about how abysmal 1990 was, music-wise.

And now, the actual list!

10 - Centuries (Fall Out Boy)

US: #43 / FR: Not on the list

Why are these guys still on my lists.

No, seriously. Why. This is yet another song that would be better if it was faster. And the sample is badly used. So I have no idea why it works. One of these days I’ll have to reevaluate Fall Out Boy’s entire discography, take a good look at myself, and admit I possibly like this band and that I’ve been lying to myself for like 15 years... but today is not that day.

9 - Sapés Comme Jamais (Maître Gims)

US: Not on the list / FR: #10

Told you I liked Maître Gims!

Listen. It’s not my place to comment on the ethics of the whole La Sape movement (which can be summarised as “modern black dandies trying to get the most expensive & beautiful clothes possible”) but you have to admit it’s super cool to have a more energetic and fun version of Suit And Tie. God, that beat. And it’s a ton of fun to sing along with the chorus! And it’s such a convincing song when it’s combined with the music video, you kinda want to look as cool and confident as these guys.

Also quick shoutout to the Sapeuses. Absolute legends & queens, every last one of them.

8 - Style (Taylor Swift)

US: #29 / FR: Not on the list

That year my s.o went to a party I didn’t want to go to and came back home completely drunk & way too late, crashed on the couch and started to ramble about how “Style” by Taylor Swift had a better sound mixing than the entirety of Epica’s latest album at the time and how amazing it was. For like half an hour.

I completely agree, just to clarify.

7 - Cool For The Summer (Demi Lovato)

US: #53 / FR: Not on the list

In what is possibly the least controversial opinion on this entire list: I love Cool For The Summer, the melody is great, the lyrics are good, the singing is the best, and you all know that and you all love this song, so yeah. Moving on to-

Oh god here comes #6. Oh shit. Oh no.

Can’t we just skip it and pretend-

6 - Animals (Maroon 5)

US: #46 / FR: Not on the list

So. I.

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuh.

How can I justify this bullshit.

The truth is: I can’t. Not really. I’m not even entirely sure what happened here. I hate this band and have always hated them, from the start. The lyrics are painfully stupid. The singing is as atrocious as ever. The “AWOOOOO” bit on the bridge is absolutely ridiculous. None of Levine’s “oh look at me I’m so dangerous” act remotely works. There isn’t a single thing I find competent here apart from the melody. I mean it. I’m not saying any of this to look cool. If I wanted to look cool, this certainly wouldn’t be on the list.

But you know what, the sheer incompetence on display here may be exactly why I like it. If it was a credible serial killer song written like an upbeat pop song, it would be disturbing and unlistenable. But the way it’s made, it simply sounds stupid, so you keep imagining some sort of inoffensive nerd pretending he’s a horrible monster (and failing) whenever you hear it. And that, I think, is what pushes it squarely into the “so bad it’s f█cking fantastic” territory, where it joins Butterfly from my 2001 list.

That sounds about right.

5 - Adventure of a Lifetime (Coldplay)

US: Not on the list / FR: #29

I haven’t mentioned A Head Full of Dreams in that year’s albums, because it came out at the very end of 2015 so I mostly consider it to be a 2016 album. It’s not as good as Mylo Xyloto, and not as consistant as Ghost Stories, but it contains some real gems. Adventure of a Lifetime isn’t nearly my favorite song on it, and I still put it super high here. I love the lyrics in particular (”under this pressure, under this weight, we are diamonds taking shape” oh damn) but the song itself just makes you want to move. I literally can’t listen to it without at least moving my head in rhythm a little bit. It’s nearly as colorful as the album cover. And it’s a joy to sing along the “woooohooooo”s!

4 - Stolen Car (Mylène Farmer & Sting)

US: Not on the list / FR: #61

This is Stolen Car (Take Me Dancing), from Sting (2004), rewritten as a half English half French duet where it’s unclear if the female singer is the imaginary lover or the car in the story. You might want to re-read that sentence.

What did I say on a previous list? Ah yes, “I see a duet between two singers I like and I die instantly”. This is also the last time Mylène Farmer is going to appear on one of my lists. I could say “self care”, but I genuinely don’t like any of her more recent hits, at all. Whatever. She’s been on these lists since the very first one (1988) anyway.

It’s been a wild ride, to say the least.

3 - Shut Up And Dance (Walk the Moon)

US: #6 / FR: Not on the list

And for the second least controversial opinion on this list: despite the massive overplay, I never EVER got tired of this, it’s colorful, energetic, super fun, and it’s still on my mp3 player to this day. Just a fantastic song. And a great band! I wish One Foot had been elligible for a future list, it’s super good. Aw.

2 - Ego (Willy Williams)

US: Not on the list / FR: #69

This is a song about a guy who imagines himself as this super cool elegant dude, but when he looks at himself in the mirror he hates everything he’s seeing.

I know this isn’t supposed to be a song about gender dysphoria but my god is this shit relatable.

To make things even better, it’s served by creepy music box sounds ala The Birthday Massacre and by an untouchable, strange beat. It’s a dark, weird song, but it’s all kinds of wonderful and catchy as hell, and apparently I’m not the only one to think that considering the mindboggling number of views on the youtube music video. Watch it if you haven’t seen it, it’s hypnotic and makes the song even better.

I only discovered this song last year but I’ve listened to it so much since then I really debated if this should be at the #1 spot. It’s just... so horribly relatable.

But you know what’s even more relatable?

Being broke and sad and still trying to have the time of your life.

1 - Downtown (Macklemore & Ryan Lewis)

US: #84 / FR: Not on the list

Some people call this Thriftshop 2.0 but I think it’s even better than Thriftshop, which was, if you recall one of my previous lists, already pretty damn good in my opinion.

As you probably already know, it’s a song about a guy buying a moped and bragging about him and his friends, and their mopeds, and how cool they look when they ride downtown on their mopeds. I never owned a moped in my life. But I have a super small & shitty car which I love very much and so it’s very relatable. Also I’ve never written the word ‘moped’ so often in a single paragraph before in my life.

I love every single person who sings on this track. I love the music video. I’ve been trying to match the flow of the second verse ever since it came out and I still can’t do it with my shitty accent. It’s full of weird and corny lines, but that’s also why I love it so much. The dialogue at the beginning! “Dope, my crew is ill, and all we need is two good wheels”! “Head into the dealership and drop a stack and cop a Kawasaki, I'm stunting on everybody, hella raw, pass the wasabi”! “My seat is leather, alright, I'm lying, it's pleather / But girl, we could still ride together / You don't need an Uber, you don't need a cab / F█ck a bus pass, you got a moped man”!! “Cut the bullshit / Get off my mullet / Stone washed, so raw / Moped like a bullet - NYAOOOOOO”!! “Running around the whole town / Neighbors yelling at me like, "You need to slow down." / Going thirty-eight, Dan, chill the f█ck out / Mow your damn lawn and sit the hell down”!!! Oh shit, I basically quoted one third of the song. I just. Ugh. I love it so much, okay?

Cringe culture is dead and we peed on its grave. We spend enough time in our lives feeling miserable. Like what you like. Even if it’s super ridiculous. No: especially if it’s super ridiculous. Live a little, damn it.

Next up: The Year Everything Went Wrong Except Pop Music

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw

[hazinhoodies]

No Love Lost (Part 1)

Harrison Osterfield x CF!Reader

A/N: uh hi. so this is a lot. this was going to be a one-shot originally but then it hit 15k words so here’s some of that. I did as much research into cystic fibrosis as i could (thats what cf means btw). Thanks to @loverholland who helped me edit this (and future parts). Also this is my submission for @starksparker summer writing challenge. I had the prompt of “I know you. What’s wrong” and its used pretty bad but this will make up for it hopefully. its a whole mess of aus. there some fuck boy in there, some best friend. brace for impact.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: talk of death, talk of hospitals, talk of sickness, swearing,  messing with tenses, a ridiculous amount of parentheticals (yes they’re supposed to be there), cheesy writing

Harrison was sweet. You had to admit it. One of the nicest people you’d ever come by. He was your best friend all throughout school, he stuck by you through all the coughing fits, your plethora of medicines, and the multiple times you’d caught bronchitis or something along those lines, not to mention all the other things that come with being a teen in high school; drama, puberty, stress. You were insanely thankful that he put up with all his own problems as well as yours, health or otherwise, and everything that came with having cystic fibrosis.

You were diagnosed at five, after the third time you’d caught pneumonia. Most people are diagnosed before the age of two but either a) you weren’t screened for it at birth or b) your doctors missed something. Just your luck.

You didn’t really know what it meant at first. Just that now you had to take these medicines, pills, and use inhalers (which hurt on bad days). Your favourite part was always the gummy vitamin that you had to -no, got to- take. You heard your mom talking about how important it was that you cleared your airway every day and that you did some of, if not all, the exercise the doctors wanted you to take. They made your lungs burn.

Your mother, however, felt guilty. She blamed herself for your sickness, but her guilt was helping no one affected. She should’ve known that you were growing too slowly and that your breathing problems weren’t normal. She feels horrible.

But if she had and you’d been diagnosed earlier or later or exactly when you were, you would still have cystic fibrosis.

You started to understand what it was at the age of eleven after you’d decided to research it yourself. You knew better than to WebMD it. Long since being diagnosed, you weren’t looking for a cure, just an understanding of what this meant for you.

You found out too much. Things that you were certain a normal 11 year old wouldn’t know about. But you weren’t normal. Anything but.

You found out that the average person with cystic fibrosis died at the age of 37, it’s most common in Northern Europe and least common in Africans and Asians. Although not recognized until the 1930s, certain aspects of cystic fibrosis were identified as early as 3,000 BC, likely due to the migration of people, gene mutations and nourishment. One in Four people have cystic fibrosis. About eighty percent of people with cystic fibrosis die from it. There’s no known cure, if there is one at all.

Your first (and only, so far) double lung transplant happened about a year later. You remember the feeling of knowing something was wrong too vividly. Headed down the stairs, your twelve year old self had already run through your extensive morning routine but you couldn’t shake the feeling of something caught in your lungs. You had to breathe through your mouth to feel like you were getting anywhere near enough oxygen.

“Have you cleared your airways yet” Your mother had asked upon hearing how rough your voice sounded when combined with how much your chest heaved when you breathed. You nodded and she asked you to go to it again. It was on your way back down the steps when it had become instantly more difficult to breathe. Calling for your mom, your voice was weak and wheezed its way through the words. It felt like you were suffocating. You gripped the stair railing tight in your hand as you felt your vision start to tunnel. With whatever luck you still had, you made it to the bottom of the stairs without collapsing and she rushed you to the hospital.

You don’t know what they did to make it better temporarily but you remember being hooked up to all sorts of antibiotics to slow the mucus build up while they found a pair of lungs for you. A month later and they had found a pair. You spent the next while in the hospital from the surgery while the doctors monitored you.

Lung transplants either work or they don’t. There’s no in between. No ‘it works but could be better’. They do, or they don’t.

Your mother would tell you when you were older that yours almost didn’t work. You almost didn’t wake up, but you wouldn’t remember any of it when she told you so.

You were overjoyed when you got to go back to school, you knew you weren’t healed, you still had cystic fibrosis, but you were doing better. That’s when you met Harrison.

With Harrison, you felt like you could be somewhat. He didn’t know about your CF at the time, you held it back to not drive him away. You suppressed coughs as much as you could. He was good though. A good person, a kind soul. So good that when you were with him, you were normal. You felt like a normal kid. You forgot about the multiple inhalers that sat on the bathroom counter and the bottles of pills next to them. You forgot about the doctors, and your enzymes or lack thereof. With Harrison, you forgot you were dying.

He started to get curious when you were missing school a lot and played it off as a cold when you would cough a lot at one time, but Harrison isn’t an idiot and you’re his friend; he knew something was up.

So you told him. You told him you had cystic fibrosis. He seemed confused so you continued on. You explained that while it also affects your pancreas, intestines, and kidneys, it meant your lungs were weak and prone to infection. Mucus builds up inside your lungs and other parts of your respiratory system. You told him that if your lungs get worse then you’ll likely need a transplant.

He nodded along and promised that he understood but you knew he didn’t fully understand what it meant, just as you had.

You didn’t tell him you were dying.

Not then. Not at all.

He’d found out on his own that it meant you were dying. You never asked how. The pair of you were in your living room at the age of fourteen, in the middle of a game of Mario Party. The computer Boo was winning. You could tell that something was bothering him but weren’t sure if it was something to ask about, you did anyway.

“Haz? What’s bothering you?” You spoke as the Luigi on the screen moved 6 spaces.

“Nothing, I’m fine” He stared distantly towards the screen, it’s more likely he’s looking past it.

“And lying. I know you. What's wrong?" No response. "Harrison, tell me” You refused to press any buttons, letting the die on the screen roll above your characters head until he gave you an answer.

Harrison looked down into his lap, fumbling with some of the buttons on the remote. His voice comes out small and meek, “You’re dying”

“No, I’m not,” Some weird instinct told you to lie about it and protect his feelings, but the glimmer of hope he had when he looked at you made you wish that you hadn’t said that. “I mean, I am. But I’m not bad” You hesitate on ‘bad’, unsure of how you want to phrase things. You knew you had to be careful of what you say. “I’m not even on a transplant list yet,” His expression shifted to worry, “It’s a good thing” He somewhat relaxed. “It means that I’m managing it well. And I am. I take care of myself, take all the medication I need to. It’s a lot but I do it”

The look on his face made your heart go soft. Somewhere between worry and relief, happy and sad.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner” You whispered, your gaze falling to the floor. You felt bad about telling him, that’s for sure. But for once you wanted to be normal.

“It’s okay,” Harrison’s voice was almost as quiet as yours, the overly happy game music playing in the background (it really didn’t help with the mood). He looked over at you and your expression made his heartbreak. “Hey,” he grabbed your attention, “This doesn’t change anything. No love lost, yeah?”

You nodded. “What I meant is that you don’t have to worry about me” That was the end of it. You rolled a five.

The next few months saw a shift in your relationship. It’s not that you spent any less time together, quite the opposite actually. Harrison wanted to spend so much time with you, most of which consisted of the two of you doing anything either of you could think of. More games of Mario Party (you won more often, he’d say he let you but he definitely didn’t), going out for food, bowling, laser tag, you name it.

He also took care of you. No matter how much you said you didn’t need it and you didn’t want to bother him, you’d get text messages at the same time every day asking if you’d taken your enzymes, or cleared your airways, or if you were close to running out of anything.

Harrison was sweet. He was sweet to you and you couldn’t be more thankful.

High school came and the world watched on as the two of you grew closer than ever. He was there as soon as he could be whenever you were in the hospital and even if you weren’t, he was at your house or you were at his as much as you could be.

Looking back, you weren’t sure how you didn’t see it.

While you were still Harrison’s best friend, he spent time with a lot of other girls. You weren’t dumb. You saw the way they looked at him. Their looks were anything from ogling or as if he was the moon. Their never-ending night light. The one that lit up the dark for them.

It was cheesy and sometimes (usually) gross, but he never looked at them that way. Even while his arm was wrapped around them in the halls he was either making some joke towards you (you’d say he was bullying you, but you weren’t that hurt) or laughing at something someone else had said or done.

Every two weeks there was a different girl on his arm. It didn’t really make sense to you. He was so nice and caring towards you but then these girls that he claimed to have feelings for barely got a second glance from him.  Even still, part of you wanted to be in their position, if only for the title that came with it.

You fell in love with Harrison slowly. Like when you come home late and don’t want to wake anyone, so you shut the door precariously, even the small click after it’s shut is too loud. Or like waiting for a flower to grow. Checking on it until you saw the first sprout and then the first leaf.

Your sudden realization, your ‘click’, was when you’d heard one of the girls talking about him after they’d ended things. You weren't sure if you could call it a breakup, we’re they even official? Who knows.

Water ran from the tap in the bathroom as you washed your hands, you couldn’t help but listen to the conversation she was having on the far side of the room. It was whispered and sobbed but you still managed.

“What’d he say?” Her friend, you thought her name was Olivia, places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“He just said he didn’t feel anything for me anymore” Harrison ex-thing, her name was Erica, (she was one of the “you are the moon” starers) barely got out the last word before sobs racked her body, her upper body and torso shook forcefully with each one. She was really hurt. “Said that there was something about someone else. I don’t get it. It was three weeks how could there be someone else”.

If it was three weeks then why are you so worked up over it? You fought not to roll your eyes.

“Erica, I told you that he was a bad idea. I told you that he’d hurt you. And you still…” Olivia trailed off with a sigh. Some best friend.

“I don’t know. Maybe I thought I could change him or something. Fuck, I don’t know. He’ll always be a fuckboy I guess. Can’t wait to see who he’s got next week” Sarcasm drenched her words. She sniffled, wiping her eyes.

You dried off your hands and left the bathroom.

It hurts to hear people talk so horrendously about your best friend. That wasn’t the Harrison that you knew, the Harrison you knew was gentle and caring and wore his heart on his sleeve. What about you made him that different?

Harrison came over that night, you helped him with his English paper and then the two of you retreated to doing your own things on your phones. He laid on your bed and you used his stomach as a pillow, lying perpendicular to him. Your legs hung off the bed a little, but you didn’t care.

The room was silent for at least fifteen minutes with the exception of the odd chuckle followed by the other asking to look at whatever it was they laughed at. That was until you piped up. Your mindless scrolling only lasts so long before you fall into your own thoughts.

“Heard Erica talking about you in the bathroom today” You let your hand fall to your chest, phone facedown against your sternum. Harrison didn’t really talk about the girls he was involved with. At least not with you. You weren’t sure why but never pressed.

“Yeah? What’d she say?” His eyes didn’t leave his phone.

“She was talking to Olivia, I think it was Olivia. The one who sits next to Tom in English”

“Yeah, Olivia” Harrison confirmed.

“Yeah her. And she -Erica-  was saying about how you broke up with her and said that there was someone else. And then Olivia said something about how she warned her not to go for you because you’re a bad idea and you’d only hurt her and shit like that”  

“Sounds like Liv” Harrison chimes in.

“Then Erica said that she thought she could change you or something like that? I don’t know. It was just weird to hear them talk so bad about you when what I see is the polar opposite” You started your scrolling again.

“People talk Y/N. She was just upset I guess. That’s okay” You nodded and there was a moment of silence

“Just out of curiosity. Why do you go through girls so fast?”

“I just don’t feel anything with them really. I know what I want, and sadly it’s things that I don’t think they’d ever be able to give, or have, or be”

“What do you want?” Your question threw him off guard and he had to pause for a second.

“I want pure love. It’s not driven by lust. A kind of love where I don’t have to worry about what I look like or how I act around them because I know they’ll love me just the same. One where we have electric conversations one moment and then the next we’re in silence but it’s fine. Because it’s comfortable. I want to have a connection. I want the kind of love where you’d die for the other person. I’d die for a love like that. And it’s something that I don’t think I could get from Erica or Megan or Hannah. No matter how long we’re together”

“But you’re not even going to stick around long enough to see if there is all that with them?”

“No. I know it makes me sound like an asshole but I know what I want. I just have to wait until that love realizes what they want”

You thought for a moment. Maybe it made sense? In some weird, twisted, ‘i’m an asshole but don’t want you to think so’ sort of way. “Okay” You trailed off.

“Also we were only a thing for like three weeks why is she this upset”

“That’s what I thought!” The two of you laughed and settled back into a comfortable silence.

You’d since learned to trust what you knew about Harrison, disregarding parts of what was said that night. He was kind, and took care of you, and cared deeply about so many things. You knew about his reputation, but you didn’t care. He was your best friend, and what kind of friend would you be if you changed your opinion based on what other people said. Certainly better than ones who date the guy who broke your heart (*cough* Olivia, *cough cough*) The same one who warned you not to date him.

And sure enough, the following week, Olivia and Harrison were together.

Olivia was the longest he’d been with someone that you knew about. A whole eight weeks was a record for Harrison. It almost made you think that maybe he was capable of finding love on his own. And that made you happy. Happy for him.

Then there was that damn click. That fucking leaf. The one that made you sad when you saw them in the halls, her hand in his. The same one that made your stomach drop when he'd kiss her cheek before class.

Although his time never wavered with you, you couldn't help but wish it was you under his arm. With his lips against your skin.

High school ended, Harrison went on to drama school. It fit, he’d always been dramatic (haha very funny Y/N) but you were proud of him for pursuing his dream of acting. You’d gone onto university as well. Although the two of you didn’t see each other nearly as much, you were still his best friend, and him yours. The texts to take your meds had changed from whenever you had to take one to only every morning, and the two of you would talk that night.

June Twenty-Second. You’d finished all your exams two months ago. Still riding on the high of being a university graduate, you didn’t expect for it to drop so fast.

You were put on the transplant list your sophomore year of university. But you were getting worse, you’d moved up significantly since being put on. June Twenty-Second is when your doctor told you that if you couldn’t get one of the next few lungs, you’d be out of time.

When you’d discovered that you were dying when you were eleven, you struggled to cope with it. Slowly but surely, you’d learned to accept that you couldn’t live forever, and if you’d been asked a month ago how you felt about death, you know how you would have answered. You would have said that it’s a part of life. That every journey has its end. You would have said that no matter what you did you couldn’t change anything and you were okay with dying. Maybe it was your time.

But when your doctor finally, officially tells you that they don’t know if they'll get you a pair of lungs in time, one thing comes to mind.

I’m not ready for this.

Immediately followed by another thought.

Harrison

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haz tags:

@summernykole @hjosterfield @imagines-andshizz @thequeensardine @artemisiaarm @sincerelymlg @butithasntkilledyouyet @bitchymathematician @ixchel-9275 @honeyyhuggs @nedthegay @ohyouremymedicine @awkwardfangirl2014 @parkerpeterholland @screeching-student-unknown

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Others who i think might enjoy or hate me for it (or already do)

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#nllho #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield angst #harrsion osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield ff #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x you #haz osterfield #haz osterfield fluff #haz osterfield angst #haz osterfield fic #haz osterfield ff #haz osterfield fanfiction #haz osterfield fanfic #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x you #kayleessummerwc

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

Ghost of you, 10/?

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 10/?.

Pairings: Human!Nine x Rose; Human!Ten x Jack; Clara Oswald x Olivia Baxter (OC).

Synopsis: "Maxence’s results were similar to Peggy’s but his genetic code was presenting some interesting particularities that needed to be studied to find the reason why it was so different."

A/N: I've started writing this fiction last year after I had a particularly weird dream (as usual) and after I wrote the prologue, I've put it aside to work on other stuff. I've gone back to it not so long ago and decided that it would be the fiction I would post next, after not posting anything for a while. I must have watched I am legend and Game of thrones way too much to come out with something like this but I hope you will like it. I am not a scientist, nor did I have a particular knowledge of sciences. I do my researches on the internet like everyone to make sure everything is as close to the reality as possible. I have a literature degree only. Writing is what I do and it makes me explore next fields, and learn new things.

“I wish I were a little girl again, because skinned knees are easier to fix than broken heart.” - Julia Roberts.

CHAPTER 10:

Jack was highlighting the most important data from the results given by Tegan. He was remarking the same details that Colin had noted earlier – details he wouldn’t share – and come to the same conclusions. He was alarmed by the risks there were for Maxence to die from the virus so he sent a message to Liv and Zach for them to keep a closer eye on him and be sure he wouldn’t get in any trouble, more than he already was. This done, he worked on the DNA data he had gathered. Maxence’s results were similar to Peggy’s but his genetic code was presenting some interesting particularities that needed to be studied to find the reason why it was so different. Maxence’s DNA wasn’t entirely corrupted by the virus. The four proteins were still present and mixing themselves with the four new ones in a perfect harmony. Maxence was clinging to his humanity like a drowning person would cling to the lifesaver that came for them. Whether it was a good thing or not, Jack couldn’t tell. His friend and colleague’s side wanted to believe it was because it meant that Maxence wasn’t dead, but the other side of him was having mixed feelings about it. What if they couldn’t reverse the process? What if Maxence was stuck with this mutated DNA? Would the nightwalker’s side be dominant and let him live in this awful condition? Or would it be a perfect mix allowing him to have a better life? Jack isolated three DNA sequences – one fully corrupted, one normal and one mixed – for a future study. He also had Peggy’s sequences but he hadn’t learnt much from them. Maxence was a much more interesting object of study. No offense to the man. Jack first chose the corrupted DNA and tried to determine what could be their role in the human system. Every strand of DNA had a particular function in the body. It was composed of four nucleotides: cytosine, guanine, adenine and thymine. All of these were forming the genetic code of a person according to the way they were arranged. It was all mathematical and almost unpredictable. But that was the funniest part of the job: solving the unsolvable. Clara knocked on the door and Jack opened it to her. She was coming to help him with the proteomics, with the identification of the new molecules composing the nightwalkers’ DNA. They didn’t exchange a word. They only shared their work and began looking for new clues. No visible answers on the corrupted strand of DNA so Jack picked the mixed one. That’s when he noticed something he hadn’t before. The beginning of something it seemed like. The moment everything started going wrong. Thymine and adenine were working together like an inseparable team, as well as cytosine and guanine. The combination for a strand could be infinite but those four could only be combined with each other. However, on this strand, everything was mixed and it was the reason why the DNA was so messed up. Jack looked closer at a molecule of thymine, one of the most essential molecules in the human DNA. It was having a strange form and it was changing under his eyes. The thymine was losing its original form and mutating to adapt itself to the other nucleotides. It wasn’t anything new. It was just the molecules changing and rewriting the human DNA. A sort of evolution, in the wrong way. It was making Humanity stupid and aggressive, back to some twisted primary instincts from another era. Something must have triggered this sudden mutation that usually took ages to appear. It was progressive and not so immediate unless something was speeding the process. Something strong enough to change Humanity so radically. All this new information was written down on a paper that was lying around here. The blood and DNA were showing mutations. They were slower than they should be since the nightwalker in question was refusing his condition. Jack would need a ‘complete’ nightwalker to compare the DNAs and see how someone clinging to his humanity could maybe be the key to a cure that would save the world. However, he doubted that anyone would want to go back outside now and with the lockdown that wouldn’t come to an end any time soon, it wasn’t making any mission possible. It meant that they would have to do with what they had by hand. It was more than they could have expected five years ago. Jack drew his attention back on the other molecules. They were having the same reactions. None of them was spared by the mutation. He added it to the notes. He re-read them, trying to get where this was all leading him and he realised something important about DNA. Something he should have thought of when he had seen that mutated DNA. There was one thing that could cause such a quick reaction and nightwalkers were running away from that thing and needing it all at once. He should have realised it sooner. When thymine and cytosine were mixing each other, it was creating a dimer that was causing kinks in the molecule. That’s how cancers started. And the noctiagus was like a non-lethal cancer. Many cancers were curable when taken in time. It took an awful lot of time to create such process as chemotherapy. How much time would it take to find something that could be working against the noctiagus? They had been working on it for five years and were only finding out how the virus could have come to life. Finding something to cure it or, at least, to reduce the symptoms and give the infected people a better life, would take even more time. It meant that the world would come to an end before they could succeed. It also was to fear that Maxence wouldn’t make it until they found something that could relieve him. He needed to let go of his humanity and they all knew he wasn’t gonna do this. Rose was gonna make sure he would never let go of it. Jack sighed and opened a new mail on the private network Zachary had created for them. He quickly typed his observations to send them to Tegan. He specified that it was useless to send them to Clara since he was working with her at the moment but they could be transferred to Rose. She would be happy to hear her husband was still inside that shell currently wandering in the cage downstairs. He added that the UV lights had to be turned off immediately. He would explain the reason in the complete report he would write later. “This is fascinating,” murmured Clara. “Absolutely fascinating.” “Are you speaking about the mutation or about the virus?” “Both. The way they are working… It’s bloody fascinating.” “Yeah. You might have mentioned that.” Clara had her eyes riveted on the microscope before her. She was observing the virus devouring the cells around it and pushing away the white cells trying to defend Maxence against the infection. It wasn’t working very well on both sides. It was a never-ending battle. “It happened during an eclipse,” she said. “Yes.” “And the DNA can be corrupted by UV lights.” “Yes, but it hasn’t last long enough. It takes ages to change a DNA, not just an hour.” “It still happened during that hour.” “In my opinion, it was caused by a human hand. The eclipse was just a coincidence.” “We gotta find the patient zero.” “We have to try. To save Maxence.” “How can we do that?” “I know someone.” Jack flashed her a bright smile and Clara rolled her eyes. Everyone knew how Jack had gotten so many acquaintances. It was no secret to anyone. He could get anything from anyone because he could be very convincing when he wanted. This was rather dirty in Clara’s opinion but she hadn’t refused some advices to make things go farther with Olivia. Advices that hadn’t worked in the end for reasons Jack ignored, reasons she would keep silent until the day she died. “I’ll talk about this to Tegan first; I need his approval before doing anything.” “Speaking of him… You seem very close lately.” “I’ve just given him some relaxation lessons.” “Jack!” exclaimed Clara, offended. “He’s our boss now.” “He asked for it,” shrugged the former Captain. “T asked you to… I don’t believe this.” She knew Tegan well enough to not believe Jack’s words. The man was too shy and cruelly lacking of self-confidence. Such an indecent offer like only Jack could do would have made him blush and stutter so hard that he would have run away before any answer left his mouth. She didn’t see him accepting to have sex with Jack. Unless... His sudden promotion to the highest responsibility of this lab had him so anxious that maybe, just maybe, he would have taken the offer just for one night. “You’ve tried with Max too?” “He always refused.” “You’re disgusting.” Clara threw a pen at him. He caught it, laughing, and put it aside. After all, she asked and he had answered in all honesty. Why would he lie? He had nothing to hide. “Wanna know why Colin is avoiding me?” “Colin’s a sociopath but an excellent scientist. He shouldn’t be out of this team.” “He was bullying T until I found out and stopped him. He wouldn’t go after me. He’s too scared.” “What have you done to him, Jack?” “Just showing him another side of himself.” “No?” “That’s what he said at first. He changed his mind.” “It’d be faster to ask you who you didn’t have sex with in this building.” “You,” replied Jack with a grin. “Olivia, Rose, Max. Zachary gave in the first day, said this probably was his best experience. Mickey refuses categorically. Martha wouldn’t say no if she wasn’t so loyal to him. I think that’s all.” “That’s quite a long list for you.” “Wanna take your name off of it?” “Keep dreaming, Captain. You won’t have any of this.” She pointed to her body and they both burst out laughing. It was nice to be laughing again but it also felt weird in the heavy atmosphere surrounding them but it also allowed them to relieve some of the tension that was on their shoulders. A guilty pleasure they couldn’t refuse in those dark times.

x

Allegro was sat on the camp bed, his back on the glass wall his cage was sharing with Maxence’s, and he was keeping still while Rose, Adam and Liv were working on him. He had chosen to have his back on Maxence not to see him wandering in his cage and observing them with his head tilted on the side as he tried to understand what was going on. It was making him rather uncomfortable to be a witness of what could happen to him. The virus was in his system. He wasn’t showing any symptom but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t suffer from them later. He wasn’t a scientist but had seen enough of them working to know that the symptoms could come later. He had seen Maxence turn into a nightwalker when they were out. He had seen his pain and horror and despair as something stronger than him was taking possession of his body. Allegro didn’t feel ready to go through something like this. He was quiet as Olivia was doing the blood tests, filling tubes of his blood and adding them in a sterilized case, as Adam took them away to his lab, as Rose was taking samples of hair and skin. It felt weird to be the Guinea pig they were working on. They were as silent as he was. It was driving him mad that silence. It was as if he was dead and they were working on his body. If only they were making observations out loud! It would break that heavy silence he already hated though he was gonna stay here for a long moment. At least, in the tent, he had Liv who was coming and talking to him. She was here today but she was in no mood to chat. Two man down, it wasn’t something good for them but maybe it was how they would find a cure. Rose and Adam were gone now and Liv was preparing the needle with the tiny sensors. Zach had made sure the settings were good. They only had to connect Allegro to the system. “It’s like a vaccine,” explained Liv. “It will hurt a little and you’ll have a small bump for a couple days.” He nodded and rolled his sleeve up to the maximum so Liv could have access to his upper arm for the injection. She cleaned the area and injected the sensors inside his body. That was it. She was done and she would leave. He would be alone to face his future. He wouldn’t beg for anyone to stay around but he would highly appreciate it if Liv was staying. She went to the airlock and picked a box she brought back inside. She dropped it on the bed. “You’ll find pyjamas and personal belongings in there. You can even watch movies via the interactive screen. You just have to log in your personal space.” “Thanks.” “Someone will always be around if you need anything.” “Okay.” The UV lights in Maxence’s cage were turned off and the sudden lack of light made them look in the other room to see what was going on. Maxence was looking up, confused. He suddenly lay down on the ground as if it was gonna bring the light back. Liv walked to the intercom. “Zach, what is going on?” “Sorry, I don’t have any explanation. The order came from Tegan.” “He just told you to turn off the lights?” “Yes.” That was weird but Tegan surely had a good reason for this. Allegro and Liv watched Maxence. He crossed his hands behind his head and was looking at the ceiling. What was he seeing in the dark? What was going on in his mind? “Can we… like make this wall opaque?” asked the guard placing his hand on the wall behind him. “I guess we can. Let me see.” Liv opened the interactive wall and selected the settings. She went into the walls category and changed the settings. The wall became black and hid what was happening in the other cage. It brought guilt and relief to his heart. Guilt to feel so relieved because he wouldn’t see what he would become in the near future. If the symptoms showed up. For now, he was just a prisoner until someone decided he was no danger to anyone, but with the virus in his system, he was contagious and, consequently, he was locked in quarantine until he was cured. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “It’s just that…” “You’ve seen his transformation and it’s scaring you.” “Yeah.” “It’ll stay between us. Or you can speak to someone. We’e got someone in here.” “I’ll be alright for now.” “Ask Zach if you need anything.” “Will do.” Liv gave him a sorry smile as if it could make anything better and take him out of this cage. He gave her another smile in return anyway. It wasn’t her fault after all. She was only doing her job and that was when he had done his that he had gotten infected. Sometimes, being careful was not enough to protect oneself against the biggest threat the world had ever seen.

x

There was someone in the cage with him. He had first heard the airlock and now he could hear the distinct sound of a person moving in a hazmat suit, a person who was carrying stuff around. He didn’t move from his spot. The ground wasn’t very comfortable but he would rather be there than in the bed. He hated the bed. It wasn’t comfy, nor warm and it was lacking of something he couldn’t name. Plus, no matter how hard he tried to sleep, he just couldn’t fall asleep. So, it was better to lie on the ground and observe the ceiling. He couldn’t do that when the lights were on. He preferred being in the dark. It was giving him less headaches and he was feeling less dizzy and nauseous since it was off. But he was a little cold to be honest. Some warmth would be great. Some human warmth would be even greater. However, no one would come and cuddle against him to watch a blurry ceiling. Who would hug the monster he had become? Certainly not the cosmonaut who sat beside him. “Max?” Max. Diminutive of Maxence. Maxence, that was his name. Doctor Maxence Spitz. He was doctor Maxence Spitz. The astronaut next to him was a man. His voice was transformed because of the plastic helmet around his head. He was hermetically locked in this suit. Maxence didn’t envy him. He was locked in a cage but he was free of his moves and didn’t have to breathe smell of plastic for hours. “It’s Tegan.” Tegan. Doctor Tegan Smith. Neurologist. Maybe called T or Tenny for short. His little brother, he thought. He wasn’t sure. A lovely man, shy and lacking of self-confidence. Handsome with his dishevelled hair and three-pieces suit. Doctor Tegan Smith, currently being the boss of this place. “Rose thinks you still have troubles with your sight. I’ve come to check. Do you mind if I do that now?” If he minded… Of course not. He was half-blind and it was a real disability. He was always on alert and ready to attack. Sometimes, he felt furious for no reason at all and needed to unleash all this rage on the closest person or thing around him. But right now, he was calm. He sat up and let Tegan work on him. He answered to the questions the best he could with his hands. He could faintly see the light Tegan used during his medical exam. When he was done, he placed glasses on his nose. Maxence blinked a couple times and his sight seemed to get a lot better. Glasses. He had always worn glasses. Why did he remember this only now? “Would you let me change your bandages and inject you new sensors?” Once again, Maxence accepted the offer. He observed Tegan’s moves as the man was taking care of his burnt skin, of the bite in his neck. His hands were slow and soft. He never hurt him, not even when he did the injection. It was pleasurable, to be treated like a human being. But Tegan left after an apology and Maxence was alone again. Watching the ceiling wasn’t interesting him anymore so he stood up, leaning on the wall to keep his balance. Sometimes, it was really hard to be standing. He walked to the wall and opened its interface. He entered his username ([email protected]) and personal password (crcd120264) and went to his professional space. They had updated it. He had access to all the results of all the exams his team had done. Even of the tests they had done on him. He titled his head on the side, trying to understand what he had under his short-sighted eyes. In those results, he found the reason why the UV lights had been turned off. It always had had a bad effect on a human body and Jack had found out that the lights were increasing the symptoms. Since they were off, his mind was clearer. In his opinion. He felt less confused, but maybe it was just a good phase. Maybe it would be worse later. But right now, he felt clever again and could work and help his friends. Jack was thinking it was a virus created by a man’s hand. A man that had lost control of his invention at the moment of the eclipse, which had led them on the wrong path. He was requiring the help of a couple of special detectives specialised in finding the unfindable: Donna Noble and Camden McCarson. Maxence did a quick research on them. They weren’t described as nice people – Camden was called a “brilliant but incredibly rude detective” and Donna was a “sarcastic sidekick” – but everyone was content with their work. It was worth a try. The feeling of wellness he had had didn’t last long. He opened a window with his vital signs when the first signs of weakness showed up. It was almost imperceptible at first, but he felt it anyway. An oppressive feeling in his chest and a certain stiffness in his left arm. Moving it was impossible without pain. His vital signs confirmed what he was thinking: erratic heartbeats, short-winded, pain in the chest. It was all clear. He pressed his right hand over his heart and used the left one to hit the wall. Zachary was here, sleeping again. Maxence needed to wake him up. He slapped the wall harder as the pain crushed him. He wanted to yell for help but his voice was gone. All he could do was slap this wall hoping it would get someone’s attention – why wasn’t the alarm ringing already? – while his strengths, his life, were abandoning him…

To be continued...

Ghost of you © | 2017 - 2018 | Tous droits réservés.

×××

In the next chapter:

I can honestly say that I hate the person who forced him out of his lab to go on the field. Catching a living specimen… It really was a stupid idea and a suicide mission. Only someone who didn’t know about the reality of things outside could ask for such a stupid thing. It could only go wrong and it did. It was a real disaster. Some would say that it could have gone worse than it did. Only three men are down on the ten that were on this mission. One death, two infections. To me, it’s a huge mistake to have sent them outside. Event if it was for a good cause, finding that damn cure, what we’ve lost isn’t worth what we’ve gained. Our leader, my mentor, Maxence Spitz, has been infected when a nightwalker bit his neck. Xavier died protecting him from a possible slaughter and Allegro… Allegro kept Maxence safe until they could come back here. Maxence has turned into a complete nightwalker. He has come back here in a crate and was transferred in a cage immediately after they arrived here. Allegro is infected though he has no symptom. He was transferred anyway.

×××

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#doctor who #ninth doctor #rose tyler #tenth doctor #jack harkness #doctor x rose #ficandchips #ghost of you

[starspatter]

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 6

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 3,791 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Also on ff.net and AO3. In which Dick is surprisingly racist towards clones.

Two birds on a wire One says "come on" and the other says "I'm tired" The sky is overcast and I'm sorry One more or one less Nobody's worried

-Regina Spektor, "Two Birds"

Then.

Once their guest had left, Tim turned to Dick with a wounded air.

“How about giving me some warning next time before someone shows up, huh?  A little heads-up would’ve been nice.”

Dick’s smile didn’t falter.

“What, did she catch you doing something embarrassing?”

Tim skewered him a look of disgust.

“Do you have to make everything sound dirty?”

“Sorry, sorry.  …I’m surprised you’re still doing ‘that’ after all these years though.”

Tim shrugged with a heavy sigh.  “Was just testing to see if I still could, I guess.  I messed up on the landing anyway.”

“You probably just need to work on your form some more.  It has been a while since I last saw you brush up on any techniques, they’re bound to get a bit rusty.  If you want, I can still coach you…”

Tim’s lips tightened.

“Forget it.  It’s not worth it.”

“Are you sure?  That girl seemed pretty impressed by it. She’s the one you were talking about earlier, right?”  Dick nodded in sage observation.  “She’s cute; nice face, decent rack- ow!”  He rubbed his arm as it was abruptly met with an annoyed punch.  “Hey, it was a compliment.”

“…Didn’t sound like one.”

“Would you prefer I said she has a mighty fine ass?”  He waggled his brows and grinned provocatively, despite wincing from the pain.  Kid could still hit pretty hard when he wanted to. “Not as fine as mine though.”

“Shut up before I shove a dumbbell up there.”

Dick clutched his behind in mock dread at the threat.

“Seriously though, she’s obviously into you.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “The way I see it, from where I’m standing, she’s more into you.”

“Oh ho, do I detect a note of jealousy?”

“No,” Tim denied hotly, though his cheeks told a different story.  “It’s just that you’re being super-gross about it.  You know you’re acting like Bruce by coming onto every giddy schoolgirl and her mom who walks in through the door.”

Dick’s smirk jerked slightly.

“Wow, okay dude, we’re really going there.”  It was his turn to be hurt by insensitivity.  “You didn’t need to go that far.  I’ll have you know this and that are completely different.”

“How so?”

“I approach these things from a sole marketing perspective.  Purely professional.  It’s called ‘show business’, bro.”

“Uh-huh.  This coming from the guy who just lied about his scars to make himself look good.  I suppose ‘that’s’ also part of your advertising strategy?”

“Hey, it’s not like it was a total lie.  That really did happen, you know – minus the ‘falling debris’ part.  …Besides, what else would you have me say?”

Tim shook his head, keeping his voice low.  “…I don’t know.”

Dick seized on the telling silence.  “You are attracted to her, aren’t you?”

“I am not.”

“It’s okay, I can see why. It’s all right to admit these things, you know.  You don’t have to hide it.”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

The firm, yet flustered defiance only further confirmed Dick’s suspicion.

“Heh heh, little Timmy’s got a crush~”

He tousled Tim’s hair teasingly, to which the boy scowled.

“I do not.”  He pushed the invading hand away in indignation.  “Will you cut that out already?  I’m not a kid anymore.”

Dick lowered his limb in disappointment.

“Okay, okay.  Sorry.”  Despite insistence otherwise, it delighted Dick that Tim was finally exhibiting some of the youthful desire – if not exuberance – he’d missed out on through his teenage years.  “Trust me though, I have no interest in someone her age.  She’s all yours.”

“Look, will you just drop it?” Tim snapped bluntly.  “It’s none of your freakin’ business.”

Dick exhaled, clicking his tongue.  If only Tim could be more honest with his feelings, true to himself – though he was painfully aware of how excruciatingly difficult that must be, what with everything the boy had been through.  To be fair, he had his own troubles genuinely opening his heart to others, after all the times it had been broken and betrayed before.  …He could only imagine how terrifying it must be for Tim, to allow someone else – a complete and total stranger – to get close by entering into his currently (semi-)stable and secure – if supremely secluded life, experience that kind of risky emotion again. Breach the many walls and defensive barriers he had set up around himself, upset the plainly precarious balance that was still a struggle to barely maintain.  So as much as he wanted to continue coaxing and clowning – kidding around, he agreed to leave it alone for now, raising both palms in admitted defeat.

“Okay, I get it.  I won’t bother you about it anymore.”

The subject successfully dismissed, Tim attuned towards the boxes in the back.

“So did you want me to help with moving this stuff or what?”

“Yeah, I needed to clear out some old things to make space for new equipment.  Trying to tidy up the place more, getting rid of useless junk and whatnot.  …Although most of it’s probably going up to the storeroom in the attic anyway.  Sorry to bother you for this; I’d do all the lifting myself, but with my back…”

“Don’t mention it, it’s the least I can do to repay you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Tim knelt by one of the cartons as Dick set to work sifting and sorting, organizing according to some arbitrary system that ostensibly only made sense to him.

“Christ, how much crap do you have here?  Seriously, what even is half this junk?  I knew you had all kinds of odd ends lying around, but I didn’t realize it amounted to this much.  Do you ever throw anything away?”

Dick shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a hoarder by nature.  Keeping keepsakes is my hobby.   …Well, more like a habit, I guess.  Why do you think we had a trophy room in the basement?  It wasn’t originally Bruce’s idea, I can tell you that.”

Tim remained quiet as he poked through a large collection of CDs, containing a few recognizable but mostly random titles by various indie bands and artists he’d never heard of.

“Man, you’ve got weird taste in music.”

“Hey, don’t knock the classics.  Those are precious goods, be careful with those.”

In spite of his scoffing, Tim picked up one of the discs that appealed to him, and was almost about to subconsciously slip the item under his oversized hoodie – an old, old habit of his own – before remembering he didn’t have to resort to sneaking or stealing when he could just ask.

“Can I borrow this?”

Dick didn’t even twist to look, implicitly trusting in his little brother’s judgment.  “Yeah sure, go ahead.”

Tim breathed out in relief as he pocketed the prize with permission.  That was a close call.  Borderline kleptomaniac compulsions hadn’t surfaced like that in a long time, but then, it was only another minor checkbox on the extensive, exhaustive list of psychotic symptoms he was suffering from today.

There was another entry that caught his eye, different from the others.  It had no hard case or album cover; just a plain, simple jacket labeled with marker:

For Babs.

Tim wondered if it was a mix tape – surely Dick wouldn’t have tried to record something himself? He couldn’t tell whether it was a gift Dick planned to give but never worked up the courage to – or something Barbara sent back after (one of numerous) breakup(s).

…Maybe Joker was right. Being in love with someone seemed like way more hassle than it was worth.  Hell, just watching those two go back and forth between affection and anger even back then was tiring.  Aggravating.

At any rate, he left burning curiosity alone, not wanting to intrude too much on Dick’s privacy (years ago he would’ve taunted his brother with the juicy bit of exposing bait himself, but that was then, when he was less mature and still found amusement in such things), and moved on to another container.  As soon as he saw the contents inside, he balked a bit, heartbeat spiking.  Aching.  It was a family photo album, full of fond memories from the Flying Graysons’ circus days. His hands trembled as he flipped tentatively through the pages, unable to tear away even though it made him uncomfortable for a number of reasons.  Paranoid of polaroids.  Anything involving camerawork tended to make him queasy, though he could typically tolerate homages to others at least.  These were different from the blown-up, polished posters on the wall though; the images portrayed within were more intimate, unscripted.  Candid, captured moments of a close-knit clan, happy as a clam – treasured remnants of childhood innocence and bliss combined with parental pampering.

“This must have been such a cool place to grow up.”

“…It was.”

Glancing back at the receptacle, buried at the bottom was another set of snapshots: a framed photograph of Dick and Barbara together (him smiling smugly straight at her in puppy-like adoration while she beamed brightly at the viewer instead), and a worn print of the former in graduation garb next to Bruce, who had his paw wrapped proudly on the other’s shoulder.  Scrawled on the top left-hand corner in Bruce’s surprisingly haphazard handwriting was a short congratulatory message:

Good luck at college, Dick.

Tim recalled how Dick told him the story of Bruce missing his graduation from Gotham State University, shortly before the two split up as Batman and Robin.  (…The old man never even bothered to come to his own high school ceremony – not that Tim was expecting him to – although Dick and Barbara both did attend at least, albeit sitting at opposite ends of the auditorium.)

“It was building for a long time.  I realize that now.  …It was never really right.  I mean, this isn’t exactly a normal childhood.”

He hadn’t really comprehended the notion then, but Tim understood now what those words meant – unfortunately all too well.

Tim sensed a shadow behind him, and for a brief instant, he half-envisioned it being Bruce from the way it loomed – but of course when he revolved around it was only Dick instead.

“Yo, you all right? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  Tim looked down at the scrapbook in his lap, a wistful mist in his eyes.  “I was just… thinking I don’t really have any pictures of my folks.  At least none where we’re all together.”  Or that isn’t a mugshot, he thought sullenly to himself.  “I never saw my dad keep any mementos of Mom after she died.  To be honest, I’m not sure I even still remember what she looks like.”

Dick plopped down on the ground next to him, resting a hand on the boy’s sagged shoulder.

“Listen, I hope you know: No matter what, you can always think of the two of us as family at least. I know I haven’t exactly been that much of a great guardian myself, that I could never replace what you lost either… But you are still a brother to me. Hell, I consider you the closest thing to a real relative I’ve had since then.”

Tim simply nodded, swallowing a lump in his gorge.  Dick patted his back with a thump.

“Us guys, we gotta stick together, right?  Through thick and thin.”

“Yeah.”  Tim ducked his neck towards his collar, surreptitiously drying ducts on his sweatshirt.  “…Thanks, you know, for letting me stay here so long.  Roy and Conner too.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” A pause.  “…How’s Conner doing by the way?”

Tim snorted, the caution in the other’s tone not escaping his notice.  “What do you care?  You never liked him anyway.”

“That’s not true. It’s just… The whole idea of cloning someone kinda wigs me out, okay?  I dunno, imagining there being a duplicate copy of you running around is freaky enough, but one of Superman?  It still doesn’t sit well with me to leave him loose like that, after all the underhanded crap Cadmus has pulled.  Something about it just doesn’t seem right.  Who’s to say he doesn’t have some secret kill switch that’ll make him go rogue like Supergirl’s doppelganger?  Gotham may be full of crazies and creeps, but at least we never really had to deal with stuff of metahuman caliber aside from Ivy and Clayface, or Kirk when he took the serum.”  Dick intentionally didn’t include Killer Croc on the atypical rogues roster; guy was too dumb a criminal to count.  “We’re on the high end of the ‘weird’ scale, sure, but not even Batman’s equipped to take down a serious superpowered menace alone.”

Tim glared at him in disbelief.

“Is that you talking, or the old man?”

“…Maybe a bit of both,” Dick willingly conceded.  “Look, I’m just worried, that’s all.”

“Yeah well, don’t be. I’ve got Mr. Kent on speed-dial, and Kon gave me his full consent to use the Kryptonite at my discretion as part of our ‘roommate agreement’.  If anything happens, he told me himself he wants me to hit him with it as hard as I can.” …Even if it meant killing him – although Tim knew he could never go through with that. Not again. “Besides, it’s not him you’re actually worried about, is it?”

“Tim…”

“No, you know what this is?” Tim clenched his fist, drawing away from contact again.  “You look at him with the same way you do me – like some ticking time bomb about to explode. I’m getting real sick and tired of it.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Sure it isn’t.  Look, for your information, Conner’s doing fine. Hell, he pretty much behaves just like you; he’s probably getting wasted and chasing after chicks at some mixer right now.  …That’s what you call a ‘normal college life’, isn’t it?”

Dick cleared his throat, aversely acknowledging hypocrisy.

“…What about you?  How is school going?  Do you like it there?”

Tim shrugged.

“It’s okay.”

“You know you didn’t have to just stick locally around here.  If you wanted to go someplace else I would’ve sponsored you.  I mean, I chose to stay close to Gotham because of that… ‘part-time job’ stuff, but you’re smart, you could’ve gone anywhere better.”

“I told you, I’m fine with this.”

“What about taking that girl’s suggestion at least?  Life doesn’t just have to be about books and studying for tests all the time either, you know.  Look at it this way: You’ve got the time and opportunity now to be a part of after-class club activities that I never had.  Why not take advantage of it, get out there and socialize.  Enjoy the excitement of your youth and all that.”

Tim stared, trying unsuccessfully to read the other’s expression.  He couldn’t deduce whether the dude was just being humorously sarcastic, or genuinely envious and attempting to live vicariously through him.  Either way, he wasn’t falling for it.

“I said forget it.”                                                          

Dick kept pressing despite disengagement, earnest in his endeavor to tempt Tim to pursue what used to fill the boy with fervent passion, desperately hoping to rekindle some kind of joyful spark.

“Come on, I’m sure it’ll be fun.  I bet I could even still teach you to do a quadruple somersault if you’re interested.”

“Why?  I suck at it.”

“You just need more practice.  …Besides, it’d be kind of a shame to let a legacy die out without passing it on to at least one person.”

Tim wavered at the sincere, if somewhat scheming statement.

“I don’t know…”

“Trust me, it’s easy once you get the hang of it.”

“Maybe for you.”  He bitterly bit his tongue under his breath.  “I’d like to see you try to concentrate on keeping your balance with the Joker as a peanut gallery.”

“What was that?”

“…Nothing.”

Dick held his gaze for a second.

“Tim, I didn’t want to bring this up, but… Conner called me the other day.  He told me, about the lab incident.  He says you haven’t been sleeping or eating much either.”

Tim grit his jaw, feeling like a dagger had just been thrust in his gut.  He couldn’t believe his best (perhaps only) bud in the world would betray him like that.

“Damnit, Kon.”

“Don’t blame him, he’s just worried about you too.  I told you: You don’t need to keep hiding things from us.  We’re here to help if you need anything.  Babs too.  If something’s troubling you, you can talk to us.”

“It’s fine, I’m handling it.”

Dick wouldn’t desist, determined to get the truth out of him.

“Tim, I heard you yelling earlier.  …He’s back again, isn’t he?”

The boy sighed in surrender, eyes slanting stage right.  “…To your left, making faces.”

His partner fixed him with stern concern.

“Are you off your meds again?”

“They don’t work.  Not as well as they used to.”

“That doesn’t mean you should just stop taking them.”

“For what?  So I can only experience the side effects?”

“So talk to Leslie.  Ask her to adjust the dosage.”

Tim made a hollow noise.  “I’m already on the highest strength that’s considered ‘safe’ for human consumption.”

Dick pulled out his phone anyway and began dialing her number.

“I’m contacting her.  There must be at least something else we can try.”

“Not Dr. Thompkins,” Tim whined, as if a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“Look, either you call to make an appointment, or I will.”

Tim seethed, grinding his teeth.  “All right, fine.  Jeeze. God, you and Barbara still both treat me like a fucking child.”

“Yeah well, maybe if you stop acting like one.”

“Whatever.  Just hand me the phone.  I’ll talk to her.”

Dick extended the cell towards Tim, who took it with all the enthusiasm of accepting a dirty sock.

“It’s ringing.”

He listened closely in on the conversation to confirm a meeting time was set up, before Tim returned the receiver.

“Here.  She wants to talk to you.”

Dick lifted the mobile to his ear.

“Hey, doc.”

“Hello, Richard.  It’s good to hear from you boys.  How’s the back treating you?”

“Fine.”  He didn’t want to dwell too much on his own health status, so he moved on to the matter at hand.  “Is there anything we can do to help Tim?”

“In such a rare and unusual case as this, it’s hard to say.  It’d be beneficial to start by identifying the root of his relapse.  Once we pinpoint that, it’ll be easier to formulate a treatment plan.   It’s possible it could just be due to the stress of moving to a new environment.  It’s good that you’ve been able to help support him through high school, but now that he’s becoming independent it may be triggering a stronger separation anxiety response in him.  Even if consciously he rejects it, the Joker ingrained himself as a parental figure in Tim’s mind.  Essentially, he equates that kind of attention with the nurturing love and protection he never properly received growing up.  It’s common for child victims of abuse to form a disorganized attachment to the caregiver, especially when the caregiver behaves in an inconsistent manner.  The conflict of the caregiver being both a source of comfort and distress can cause the child to display contradictory patterns when faced with a stressful situation; instinct tells him to simultaneously avoid and approach the one who is mistreating him.   In the absence of a familiar atmosphere he’s accustomed to, he’s likely seeking alternate methods of coping as a survival mechanism.  Has he been under any kind of particular pressure lately?”

Dick relayed the events leading up to the fainting spell, with little input from Tim beyond affirmative nods.

“I see.  It’s certainly a sign of progress that he’s trying to face his fears, but a heads-on approach might not be the best tactic.”

“I tried to tell him that.  He won’t listen.”

“I’ll have a chat with him about it when I see him, hopefully we can find a way for him to succeed in his studies without compromising his sense of safety.  One more question, this is important: Has he tried to harm himself?”

“I… don’t think so.  I’ll check, and let you know.”

“Please do.”

As Dick temporarily terminated the exchange, he rotated to see Tim had stood up and was headed towards the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out for a smoke – walk – whatever.  Just text me when you need me.”

“Hold it.”  The harsh bark arrested the boy before he was halfway to the exit.  “Wrists.”

Tim swiveled with a sour countenance.

“Seriously?  Do we really have to do this?”

“Show me.”

He hissed, but obediently rolled up his sleeves, revealing bare but apparently unmarked skin.

“Satisfied?”

Dick advanced and examined him all over anyway, before nodding.

“All right.  Now empty your pockets.”

Tim tsked, feeling as violated as when the staff at the detention center frisked him on admittance for any concealed contraband.  He dug through his possessions, retrieving objects one by one: phone, wallet, CD player, lighter, cigarettes, and finally – under Dick’s demanding eye – the hidden pocketblade.

“Give me the knife.”

He hesitated.

“Don’t make me wrestle it from you.”

Relinquishing, he slapped the weapon into Dick’s grip without a word.

“Thank you.  You can go, but try to keep near.”

“Sure thing, Mom.”

Dick deliberately chose to ignore the sardonic retort, used to receiving attitude by now.  (For a fleeting moment, he mused if he ever gave Bruce this much frustration, although no doubt Alfred would certainly attest to it.)

After Tim left, Dick hit redial to reassuringly inform Leslie on the observed lack of self-inflicted damage to the patient’s physical condition at least – and preemptive confiscation of means just to be safe – before bidding goodbye with a final beep.  He sighed as he rubbed his neck, hoping his “tough love” hadn’t come off as too deterring. He really wasn’t good with this whole “parenting” thing, considering the primary role model he had for nearly half of his life after early adolescence.

As he picked up the memoir from the floor, he caressed his fingers feather-light over the cover, brushing off collected dust and disenchantment before delicately placing it on a shelf for easy viewing access.  The rest he unceremoniously dumped in the “to toss” pile, purposefully cramming as much trash as he could on top.  …After a few minutes though he fished them out again, rescuing from the base of the rubbish heap with ambivalent reluctance, restoring to the original package and sealing tightly with tape.  They could remain upstairs for now at least – like his ruined Nightwing costume – evidence of old wounds and shattered bonds shuttered behind closed panel; tucked away in the dark recesses of his conscience, lurking and lingering deep in the shadows off-screen.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Two birds of a feather Say that they're always gonna stay together But one's never going to let go of that wire He says that he will But he's just a liar

#TimSteph #Tim Drake #Timmy Todd #Stephanie Brown #Dick Grayson #Batman the Animated Series #Batman Beyond #DCAU #Return of the Joker #fanfiction #starstories #Ironically Dick later gets a clone himself in the 'Hush Beyond' comic story arc #which is a mess in all sorts of ways but I'm considering canon for the sake of keeping 'continuity' #on the subject of the tie in comics though one thing I love about Gotham Adventures is how they highlight Dick's fondness for music #wherein his musical knowledge actually comes in handy to help solve a couple cases #if you haven't read the series I highly recommend doing so for a lot more extra character development and wonderful BatFam interactions <3 #also FYI all the photographs appeared in the show at some point #cookie to whoever guesses which ep each is from ;O #P.S. Happy Father's Day

[kelasparmak]

Odo and Garak for the situations ask?

Fake dating/marrieds: there are two options. one is that odo is excruciatingly uncomfortable and people start taking garak aside to give him unwanted relationship advice for his fake marriage, or they slip odo cards with a divorce lawyer’s name on. garak finds this hilarious at first but, because it’s garak and he is a vain vain man, quickly becomes appalled at how everyone assumes odo has fallen out of love with him and he’ll be left heartbroken. maybe he’s moved on to greener pastures, guys, didja think of that?alternatively, and maybe less likely, garak is for once determined to properly be a good friend to odo, who in fairness has always been a good friend to him, and not do anything that might push his boundaries. odo on the other hand is a noir detective in his heart of hearts and immediately gets super into the roleplay/disguise element, and is surprisingly good at playing the part (because playing the part is what odo has been pressured to do for as long as he’s been conscious and self-aware).either way, it’s not what people expect it to be, and it’s sort of hilarious.

Bodyswap: odo uses his security codes to turn up the temperature in his room, breaks it, and causes environmental problems. o’brien gets pissed off with him, then figures out why and is sympathetic, and then goes right back to pissed off because garak has turned into goo to get into places he shouldn’t and hear things he shouldn’t, and o’brien just found him in his goddamn alamo replica.

Telepathy:  ANGST. angst happens. probably they bond over having daddy issues, but resolutely pretend not to be able to hear each other’s thoughts because they are stubborn pieces of shit who Don’t Do Sadness.

OH NO only one bed at the hotel: odo doesn’t use a bed so this is maybe not an issue. if it’s during the humanoid!odo time though, i can see a cuddling-for-warmth scenario arising. only they refuse to call it cuddling and come up with completely absurd periphrastic overcomplicated bullshit to make it sound like Serious Stuff that was unavoidable and doesn’t mean they’re friends or anything.

Accidental time-travel: oh jeez. i mean, probably the awkward bisexual disaster that is teenage garak turns up, right? that is generally the best use of time travel. no matter who he runs into he develops a crush, because it’s practically asit!canon that that is garak’s whole thing at that age. just crushing on everyone in the entire goddamn galaxy.alternatively, an au of ‘things past’, in which odo’s unresolved guilt about the things he did/allowed while an unwitting/uninformed semi-collaborator is actually addressed. if anyone’s in a position to talk to him frankly about Doing What You Gotta and not feeling worse about it than you have to, it’s sisko and garak. sisko, because he’s a good person and a bit of a martyr, might make odo feel worse, though he’s self-aware and empathetic enough not to do it as much as he could. garak, i imagine, could find the words to make odo feel more okay with what he’s done (if only because he knows that garak wouldn’t just say these things to make him feel better, though actually that’s 100% what garak is doing).

Their first kiss: hmmmmmm. can kinda see it happening near the end of ‘the die is cast’, just after they escape the trap laid by the founder, both of them very confused and not totally okay with what’s going on. but that’s not going to have been a great first kiss, so maybe… okay, a few options:a) they hang out a lot while garak’s in jail, because i don’t remember if it was ever clarified but if garak was in jail on ds9 that is potentially horrific, the holding cells we see on the show are tiny and have no privacy; hopefully a longer-term cell would be nicer but either way leaving that aside it’d mean he was spending a lot of time with odo. if he was in jail on a different station, which would prbably mke more sense, i like to think odo would still visit him pretty often, maybe even more than julian because i think odo ‘gets’ him more but relates to the lying etc less, which makes it easier for him to sympathise than julian, who empathises a lot but pretends he doesn’t and wishes that he didn’t. anyway they get really close over that time and when garak gets out they have excruciatingly awkward small talk and then a ‘uhh, hey, so… how ya feel bout… touching mouths…’ and then they smooch.b) also sad: when garak and kira realise odo’s dying just after they all leave for cardassia prime. everyone’s poly and that’s not an issue. odo is dying and that is an issue.c) they discuss odo’s awful romance/smut novels and the terrible descriptions therein, and it quicly comes up that odo’s never really kissed anyone before, so garak offers to help him get some experience, fully expecting it to be taken as a joke (as intended!), but odo’s like ‘yeah actually i do need some practice? this is one of those solid things?’ and……. the obvious fanfic ensues.d) the episodes ‘my way’ and ‘our man bashir’ mesh perfectly into one episode where they are both nerds in tuxedos who make out in an early/mid-20th century themed holosuite.

Meeting the parents: this has happened on one side already. i like to think that garak would be very very cutting to dr mora, with no reservations about how he has to be nice to odo’s ‘dad’ and not cause problems in their already fraught relationship. also probably sabotage several little things to make sure that his stay on ds9 is awful, though nothing that’d actually damage him. probably. maybe a lot of ‘accidental’ electric shocks from ‘accidental’ wiring faults, though. turnabout’s fair play.

Moving in together: odo puts his bucket in garak’s room. garak tucks several blankets and a space heater under the desk in odo’s office. DOMESTIC AS FUCK.

A crossover of my choice: oh boy. okay, let’s take some creative license here, cause this is sort of more of an au, but… white collar. odo as the dedicated  and sort of boring-seeming cop with a strong sense of justice and commitment to law & order, but who in his heart believes that people really can be redeemed, and also kind of grudgingly admires criminals like master forger & art thief garak, who is so fucking talented and creative and twisty-mindedly a genius, and who seemingly by coincidence takes care not to put anyone’s wellbeing on the line if they’re just trying to make a living and haven’t done anything to deserve it. together, they solve crimes (and drink a lot of wine).

An au of my choice: again, i have such a fondness for the white collar au i was just talking about, though i don’t think i’d really considered it in any depth before just now, other than ‘oh hey, this neal guy reminds me of garak, and if he’s garak then i guess this superficially by-the-book but secretly-a-loose-cannon cop is probably odo’. i love this au now.but because that wasn’t exactly a crossover i feel like i’ve gotta be really strict and come up with a canonverse au for this one. so, either:a) dominion!odo au, where odo rejoins the link willingly the first time he meets them back in ‘the search’, and for the rest of the series is a semi-enemy who genuinely believes the founders can impose order on chaotic and harmful forces like cardassian expansionism and prevent atrocities like those that that happened on bajor from happening again. this brings him into conflict with the regular ds9 crew, obviously, though those conflicts never come to violence because both odo and the rest of the ds9 crew realise that the other has good intentions and they don’t want to hurt each other because they’re friends. garak has no such qualms - anything that might jeopardise cardassian interests, no matter how well-intentioned (and no matter how badly-intentioned he thinks the current cardassian government might be), is fuckin’ going down. this could be a very long fic with a lot of drama where everything turns out okay, or it could be a short one where, lbr, garak fucking dies because he tried to kill an entire planet of near-invulnerable shapeshifters, again.or b) deep dish nine, the One True AU in every niner’s heart. my initial thinking is that this hypothetical fic would relate to odo being involved in an ongoing attempt to shut down a drug operation in the neighbourhood, which he did not realise that that odd but strangely easy to talk to tailor who lives in the basement was involved with. either he talks to garak (who has probs already been talking to julian about this whole Drug Problem Sitch) and convinces him to help with the sting, or he doesn’t find out until the middle of a raid or something. again, this one could end well or it could end badly. i like to think it ends well.

If you like, another trope/scenario of your choice: i mentioned it earlier but it’s canon that odo reads a lot of terrible smut (despite being probably ace, which perhaps surprisingly is not an uncommon combination, even though it’s not an intuitive one at all). and it’s semi-canon (thanks, andy) that garak is a hopeless romantic, a bisexual disaster, kind of kinky, and (full canon now) v into reading as a form of escapism. so, their breakfasts together definitely end up being a second replimat-book-club for garak, only in this one they might pretend it’s Highbrow Literature but genuinely all they discuss is like, bad housewife erotica. they know it’s garbage but they also both unironically love it. (quark overhears more than he wants to but like hell is he telling them that since breakfast time is quiet he can overhear certain frequencies if he’s near the exit of his bar - which he is, more often than he needs to be these days. he’s not suicidal enough to try blackmailing either odo or garak without a damn good reason, but having some material on them doesn’t hurt).

#ds9 #everythingandanythingisgood #long post for ts #odo #elim garak #this is such a late reply i'm so sorry #i reblogged a ton of ask games right before being busy for weeks because i'm dumb and i thought i'd think out my replies on the train or bu #i didn't i just completely forgot about them #i'm sorry! here's a reply like three weeks late i hope it helps

[valkyrieelysia18]

In Thoughts, All Alone

Summer Rose could fully admit that Team STRQ was not the most emotional stable team in her year. In other words, the four them were so deeply messed up it's a wonder how none of them had snapped by now. All anyone would need to see the truth of it was in the coping mechanisms.

For example, Taiyang was usually a pleasant person to be around, but when he got stressed or frustrated, he tended to take it out on others. Not physically, but in a way Summer thought what really happened was worse. His pranks would go from generally light hearted to somewhat spiteful and bullying. Then there was he'd talk that to him was joking, but could off as rather cruel and insensitive to those he was talking to. Summer couldn't count the number times she had to apologize and the number of times those apologies were NOT accepted.

Whereas the blonde's behavior might pass people's attention if they didn't see it that often, Qrow's vice was obvious. Summer was eternally grateful to Headmaster Ozpin for banning Qrow from leaving Beacon back while she had been unconscious. His tendency to blame himself because of his semblance and his liking for alcohol was a dangerous combination. It was in worse in that Qrow wouldn't talk about it, whenever she reached out he flinched away like she physically hurt him.

And then there was Raven.....oh boy.....

There wasn't the words to describe what Raven Branwen was capable of when she was emotionally...compromised.

And the only reason I haven't dragged them all into counseling is because I'm probably the worst of them all. Summer sighed as she piped the icing onto the sixth dozen strawberry cupcakes (her third type of sweet for that evening aside the oatmeal raisin cookies and the tiramisu) she had baked that night.

The kitchens at Beacon were quiet at night especially on the weekends, which was just the way Summer liked it. She had taken to coming here to bake whenever her nightmares got a bit too much for her. Luckily, her teammates had gone to the city earlier which left her to her own devices.

All of the cupcakes iced, she put the piping bag she was using off to the side and went over to the strawberries she had prepared earlier. As she arranged them in a way that was aesthetically pleasing on her sweets, she sighed. She knew it wasn't healthy to go into a baking frenzy whenever she dreamed about her past, but it was honestly the only way she COULD handle it. The main problem was the lack of sleep and the massive amounts of sweets that she definitely couldn't finish on her own (most of the time she shared in the first class she had that morning, giving the students and the teachers a much appreciated morning kick).

Of her teammates, only Raven had noticed it was a problem. She could still recall the swordswoman's words from the last time. "Enough with the baking Summer! If this keeps up, our ranking is going to fall! I don't know what priorities you were raised with, but out there we live and die by our ability to fight! Though, I suppose someone like you would never understand that....."

Qrow had told her off, Tai tried to talk some sense into her; but neither of them really noticed Summer's reaction to it all. And she supposed a part of her was grateful towards that.

She closed her eyes, her hands ceasing with decorating as she felt the flashes of her nightmares come to her.

The howl of the pack of Beowolves....

"Go! We'll meet you back at the old tree! I promise!"

".....Alright. Please be safe."

A kiss to the forehead as tears stream down a face that looked very similar to hers.

The unearthly screech that made her truly afraid for the first time in her life.

The same face lying still in death, smiling as if at peace. A gray cloak lying not too far away, tattered and stained with blood.....

The same blood on her hands.

Taking in a deep breath, Summer came back to the kitchen. It took a few minutes of steady breathing on her own to fully realize where she was. She bit her lip, hugging herself as she hunched over. You're right Raven, I'm not like you. I can't just turn whatever I feel in to fighting.

It took a full five minutes for her to calm down. It was pretty vivid tonight, why is that?

She took out her Scroll; checking to see if her teammates had called her and seeing the time was well past midnight. As well as seeing the date which made 'Click!' in her mind. "Oh right......it's my birthday....."

She had honestly forgotten. Then again, it's not like she really celebrated it. Tai was always excited when it came to his birthday and whatever he planned whereas the Branwens stated that where they came from birthdays were celebrated communally all at once rather than individually (they also mentioned something of a Coming of Age Ceremony that neither wanted to go into great details over). But Summer.....

She never really celebrated her birthday because no one celebrated it with her.

A thought struck her as she got up to where one of the drawers were, finding a lone little birthday candle with matches. Perfect.

Sticking the candle onto the last cupcake (which had no strawberries on top) and lighting it, Summer smiled as she felt herself talk to someone who was long gone. "Hey Dad....another year, gone by. I promise, next time I'm doing this at your grave where it's not so weird. But, you were the one who made a big deal about my birthday, so yeah.....I'm doing this now.

"School's been going okay. I mean, it's school so it's not all fun. My team's been doing really good on rankings though we definitely have things we can improve on. My teammates are really good people at heart....admittedly, it took a while for me to see Raven's good side. Sometimes, I'm jealous of them; Raven's confidence, Tai's charisma, Qrow's ability to just keep going no matter what. But honestly Dad, I wish you could have met them. I get the feeling you'd have liked them.

"I wonder what you'd also think of my teachers. It's funny; the more I see of Headmaster Ozpin, the more I think you two would have probably gotten along well. I don't know why, I mean for goodness' sakes, you hated coffee and you were never distant with anyone."

She took a deep breath before she continued. "So, I'm fine. If Mom's there with you, tell her I said hi. If she's not there......well, I miss you. That's all I wanted to say."

Summer leaned forward, blowing out the candle. She then proceeded to eat the tiny strawberry cake slowly. It really was good, though had cooled a bit. Once it was done, she remembered all of her other sweets. Better store these in the containers. Then maybe I should get some shut eye.

Feeling the stream of sunlight coming through the windows, Summer groaned at having to wake up. Five more minutes....

Still, she knew she couldn't sleep the Sunday (and her birthday) away. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, her mouth opening into a slight yawn.

And it was in that moment that she fully awake, she noticed that right in front of her on the table she had been resting on was a small wrapped package.

She picked it up cautiously, unwrapping the present. Wait, is this for me...but I never told anyone about my birthday.

Her thoughts failed her as she opened the small box. A silver necklace was there in the art deco style; silver curled stems leading into a rose with a white pearl dangling down.

It's so beautiful, but who would get this for me? It looks way too expensive for Tai, Qrow, or Raven to go for. Because I'm pretty sure this is real silver.

Then she noticed something missing rather than something new. "Where'd the tiramisu go?!"

Feels a little unfinished, but this is where I'd stop this for now. Might do a sequel. Or something with Rose Garden.

So a couple of hints were dropped of what I head canon as Summer's backstory. They weren't all clear, but I kind of made them vague on purpose. Let's just say I have a very sad twisted head canon on the Silver Eyes that may come up again in a future writing. Summer's father may also make another appearance, my version's name being Yue Rose.

Let's face it, everyone is pretty messed. Some are just more obvious about it.

And anyone who knows what tiramisu is can probably guess who left the gift.

#rwby #teams strq #taiyang xiao long #raven branwen #qrow branwen #coping mechanism #My writing #all of team strq is messed up #summer rose

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 46*: The Message

“Have a little have a little have a little faith in me.”

In the past, Greg Universe wrote songs that yearned for a life among the stars. Then he met Rose Quartz, and in a way, his wish came true. More than any other human on the planet at this point in the show, his life is full of cosmic wonder. But while he may be surrounded by aliens with literal magic, he’s not one of them. He tried so hard to fly, but he was thrown.

Greg is never more distinctly human than when contrasted against the Gems, and The Message highlights these differences more than ever before; he’s not even boring ole Greg here, but in Amethyst’s words, he’s Gregory. We haven’t seen the Gems so uniformly dismissive of him since all the way back in Laser Light Cannon, but this time we don’t just have to take Steven’s word for his greatness. He has proven to be competent and loving, capable of understanding his son deeper than any of the Gems.

This is honestly still a problem forty-odd episodes later. Sure, I buy Pearl having no faith in Greg. Even if we ignore her Rose-based dislike of him, here’s her perspective of his handiness: in Coach Steven, she saw his cruddy makeshift gym; in House Guest, she had to fix his van because he couldn’t; in Space Race, she saw his go-kart explode against a rock, and certainly didn’t see him help make a spacecraft; in Maximum Capacity, she confirmed that he’s messy, which hits her very core. Pearl is allowed to be condescending.

But Garnet and Amethyst? The former is super open-minded and practical, and the other actively enjoys Greg’s company. Both have participated in making music with him and know that he’s an expert with sound. Both know him to be someone who tries his best to fix things. Hell, all three of them know that his human duct tape solution to the Geode worked. 

With this backdrop in mind, all three Gems react absurdly to his initial failure. Even Pearl, who’s most likely to want him to fail, is an expert in how the van functions and would understand the power failure. And his methods are clearly working before the battery shorts out, slowly shifting the senseless wailing into something that sounds vaguely like a voice. But instead of continuing down this path, the Gems give up the only lead they have. These are the same Gems that are bracing themselves for Homeworld after two encounters with Peridot and need all the help they can get, by the way.

The only conclusions we can gain from this is that the Gems are incompetent (which they aren’t) or that their stubborn lack of respect for Greg clouds their vision. Well, we’ve seen the latter in Laser Light Cannon, where, as a reminder, they assume a guy who keeps everything and loved Rose would’ve tossed something Rose gave him. But there, and here, this is nonsensical compared to their treatment of Greg in the rest of the series. Maybe Pearl would be petty enough not to recognize his value. But for Amethyst and Garnet to brush him aside ignores many episodes of rapport with him, and their knowledge that, oh yeah, he raised Steven by himself for years.

I’m not against the idea of the Gems having friction with Greg, but it comes up so infrequently that both of these episodes feel like oddballs. It would be easy enough to make this plot element consistent, but instead, the Gems (even Pearl) are far too cordial far too often with Greg for me to believe they suddenly see him as a total failure in The Message.

Like Laser Light Cannon, this tension does make for good conflict within the episode itself. Steven wanting to bring his two families together and prove his dad’s worth is a great problem to solve, and it lets Greg have a victory with stakes. But Steven Universe is a serial, and what works for a single episode doesn’t necessarily work for the whole. For a more extreme example, take House Guest: while I can’t stand Greg’s sudden shift to lying manipulator, it’s a perfectly decent episode if we ignore the context around it, which is that Greg never shows anything close to this sort of behavior elsewhere. But we can’t, and The Message shouldn’t.

One more issue before I get to the good stuff (because I promise, I actually do like this episode for all its flaws): it’s been a while since Lapis Lazuli flew back to the stars, and she hasn’t been mentioned since, so one of The Message’s duties is reintroducing her to the audience. This ends up being a mixed bag, because as much as I adore Steven’s song about her and our extended callback to Greg’s reaction to her ocean tower, it makes the sender of the titular message blindingly obvious. As soon as the Gems deduce the Wailing Stone is communicating from space, any viewer who understands foreshadowing (which admittedly excludes the show’s absolute youngest audience, but not school-age kids and up) will recall the focus on Lapis minutes earlier.

Considering the looming presence of Peridot in the wake of Warp Tour and especially Marble Madness, this episode could’ve easily led us to believe the green meanie was the culprit, with Lapis appearing as a genuine twist. As it is, her message arriving on the same night Steven and Greg happen to be discussing her (again, for the first time we’ve seen since her departure) feels contrived.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that the focus is on Greg and the Gems, and I understand that with only eleven minutes to spare it would’ve been difficult to do a genuine mystery plot justice while maintaining that central character study. But I’m tickled by the irony of an episode about a message being distorted by its medium getting distorted by the necessities of serialized children’s television.

Okay, so the good stuff. There’s a lot of it! Despite their out-of-character reaction to Greg, the Gems have fantastic interactions with each other: I get a kick out of the assumption that the Wailing Stone is a prank from Amethyst, and their different methods of trying to stop the noise are nice reflections of their characters. Steven and Greg are still great together, and Steven’s utter faith in his dad never gets old.

The music here is terrific. Greg expanding Steven’s melody about Lapis to express himself is inspired, considering they’re having a jam session before the episode picks up. I just love Tom Scharpling’s singing voice: I can’t imagine it’s easy to find so much oomph from the word “expertise,” but he nails it.

Even if its place within the serial makes some of the character beats ring false, the emotional truths underlying them are still done well. We feel how crushed Greg is, how hopeful Steven is, and the Gems’ full arc from discouraged to amazed to terrified. And Greg still gets to be a dad in an episode where he could just act like a buddy, calmly telling Steven to use his words when he gets too excited to communicate.

And dear lord, does Lapis continue to impress. With mere seconds on screen, the tone of the episode, and the entire rest of the first season, shifts into full crisis mode. It’s not just Jennifer Paz’s chilling performance, it’s the positioning of her small monitor to either fill the screen or surround itself with the Crystal Gems’ reactions. It’s the knowledge that the most powerful Gem we’ve seen so far is out of her league with Homeworld. It’s the confirmation that yes, they’re coming back to Earth. 

And it’s Garnet, trying desperately to play it cool while her team falls apart. Her headspace is still pretty much the same as her initial reaction to Peridot in Warp Tour, but now she’s got to pull everyone together. It’s crunch time.

But not until we get Steven goofing off a little, because this is still a show that wears its heart on its sleeve and Steven’s humanity still matters when the going gets tough. Even if he’s actually a robot.

Future Vision!

Apparently Steven says “Hold the phone. Now give the phone to me” enough to worm its way into Garnet’s lexicon come Mindful Education.

As the Gems leap away, Steven notably fails to make such a leap. Combined with his fall in Rose’s Scabbard, it’s a wonder it takes so long for Steven Floats to pop up.

Lapis points out that Peridot knows Steven’s name, which shows that she paid attention to such things during their Marble Madness conversation; given this, is it really surprising that she kept a record of Steven’s friends that comes back to haunt us in I Am My Mom?

If every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have inconsistencies…

A personal hot dog this time: why oh why didn’t I name this section “My mind is the internet, I know every continuity mistake ever made on television”?

I guess you could read it that way…

When viewed in the intended order, The Message comes right on the heels of Story for Steven, with mixed results. While Steven and Greg’s musical van hangout makes for an excellent link between the episodes, as does the focus on Greg’s relationship with the Gems, Story takes place at the car wash and Message on the beach. Sure, Greg could’ve driven them over, but they still seem to be mid-hangout when The Message begins. This really should’ve been a more solid location connection given the opportunity.

This also would’ve been the third Greg episode in a row in the intended order, for whatever that’s worth (thanks to Shirt Club). The Message works as a culmination of a Greg trilogy, but honestly I like it better on its own.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

Like sister episode Laser Light Cannon, I do enjoy this episode on its own merits. But its flaws are easier to see in hindsight, especially when you aren’t as caught up in resolving the initial Homeworld Arc as you are in the first viewing.

Top Ten

Steven and the Stevens

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Rose’s Scabbard

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Winter Forecast

On the Run

Warp Tour

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

The Test

Future Vision

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

No Thanks!

     4. Horror Club      3. Fusion Cuisine      2. House Guest      1. Island Adventure

#the message #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

[whatwouldfrogsdo]

Sensitive (or Shout)

Day 4 of Nursey Week!

The majority of this takes place at a doctor’s office, so trigger warning for symptom discussion (although actually a lot of that is implicit instead of explicit), diagnosis and medication and stuff.

Also on AO3 here.

“I just have to take a few details, Derek, and then we can have a chat. What is your date of birth?”

“Er, February the fourteenth, 1996.”

“Valentine’s Day!” Nursey just stared, unimpressed, at the doctor, who smiled a little sheepishly. “Happy birthday for Tuesday.”

“Sure,” he replied stiffly. Being in the doctor’s office a few days before his sixteenth birthday wasn’t what he would describe as ‘happy’.

“And you are a student at Phillips Academy?”

“That’s right.”

“Are you sure you would not rather have a teacher in here with you?” The doctor glanced at Andy.

“I’m sure. I don’t want to talk about this in front of either of them.” Derek nodded his head in the direction of the waiting room, where the two teachers who had brought them out of school to come to the doctor’s office waited.

“You would like your friend to stay, though? Brother?”

The noise Andy made almost made Derek crack a smile. They didn’t look anything like each other. They weren’t even remotely the same ethnicity.

“Friend, and yes.”

“Okay. Tell me what the matter is.”

“I feel tired all the time. Or not even tired, but I want to sleep. My dorm buddies have to practically drag me out of bed every morning. I just don’t want to do anything. Nothing’s interesting.”

He saw, in the doctor’s eyes, the moment she decided that Derek was wasting her time. “That is a perfectly normal feeling for teenagers of your age,” she started.

“No, you don’t understand,” Andy cut across. “We live in a dorm with ten other people, so I know teenagers our age. This is more than is just a normal amount of sleeping in, or apathy towards classes. He doesn’t care about anything anymore. Not even hockey, and he loves that shit. And compared to the beginning of the year-”

“Sir, I promise you, this might not be something everyone feels, but I see a lot of teenagers who have gone off a hobby they used to have.”

“At the beginning of the school year, he was interested in everything. He wasn’t sleeping, because he had too much to do. He was happy. Almost too happy.”

“Yeah, there were times it got really scary,” Derek agreed. Tears pricked in his eyes. He never cried in public, but the past few weeks he had felt more and more sensitive. He bit on his lip until it hurt, and the urge to cry disappeared.

The doctor’s attention had been caught, now. “How long did this enthusiasm last?”

Derek and Andy shared a look. “A few months, maybe. It started when it was still the summer, and by Thanksgiving, I’d mellowed out.”

“He was back to himself again in November,” Andy said with a nod.

“And this recent dip in mood, when did that start?”

“A couple of weeks ago,” Andy said. “I know that’s not really long enough to get a picture with things like this, but it’s been long enough to affect his schoolwork and hockey, so I persuaded him to let us bring him here anyway.”

The doctor hummed thoughtfully. She reached for a thick book on the shelf behind her, and flicked through it until she found something. “I would like to ask you a few questions, Derek. I want you to answer with your own thoughts and feelings, not influenced by what you think I should hear, or what your friend might think or want to hear.”

Derek nodded. “Okay.”

“The first questions, I would like you to answer with how you have been feeling the past couple of weeks. If you could reply with whether you have felt it nearly every day, on more than half the days in those couple of weeks, just on some days, or not at all,” she told him, and then she started asking the same questions Derek and Andy had found on a site about depression a few nights before. Derek let out a shaky sigh before he started to reply. He had done this test online, and come out as severely depressed. He could see the doctor’s lips growing tighter as he answered ‘nearly every day’ for each question, until he told her that he had not had any suicidal thoughts and she relaxed almost immediately. It wasn’t completely true, but given that even if he had had the energy to act on them, they had only been fleeting notions, he and Andy had decided that the best thing would be not to mention them.

“Okay, it sounds like you have been suffering from a depressive episode, and given what you were telling me earlier, I have some more questions about what you experienced at the beginning of the school year.”

This, Derek hadn’t expected. His mouth dropped open a little, but he nodded.

“You can just answer these with yes or no,” she told him. She asked a string of questions, nearly all of which Derek, with barely any hesitation, answered yes to. “You were more interested in sex than usual?”

“Oh, no,” he said easily. She seemed a little surprised that he had actually answered negatively, but without pressing it, she moved onto the next question.

“Do you have any family history of bipolar disorder?”

Derek frowned. “Uh, I don’t know. I don’t think so?”

She smiled softly. “I will have to ring your parents for consent to prescribe you any medication, so I can ask them myself. Do you know what bipolar disorder is?”

Derek shrugged. “Like mood swings and stuff?”

“Not really. It is a mood disorder, but it does not ‘swing’ in the way people think. It is characterized by manic and depressive episodes. These can each last months, or for some people even years, and there are usually periods in between where you are not suffering any sort of episode, and these periods of normality can also last between months and years. The fact that it has only been a few months since your last manic episode may suggest rapid cycling, so I would like to get you on mood stabilizers as quickly as possible. Because of the nature of the disorder, I would also like to set up regular meetings with you.”

“With you? Not a therapist?” Andy asked in confusion.

“With Derek’s description of his feelings, I can be fairly certain bipolar is the correct diagnosis, but it will be easier to tell if anything else changes, or if the episodes of hallucination and dissociation worsen, if I am monitoring him myself. Those are psychotic symptoms, and while they are an aspect of mania for some people with bipolar, they may indicate another issue. Similarly, the fact that he reports no change in his sex drive—”

“He’s fifteen.”

“Which is exactly the age I would expect more fluctuation in interest in sex, whether combined with an affective disorder or not.”

“But he’s-”

It was as if something snapped inside Derek. “He’s right here,” he hissed. “Why does it matter if I don’t care about sex? Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing considering it’s not even legal for me to have sex yet. And I live at school. It would be kind of weird if I was attracted to anyone I live with, or wanting to masturbate or any of that shit.”

Andy was staring at him with a strange look on his face, now.

“Okay,” the doctor said softly, as if Derek was some fragile child who needed to be handled with gloves. “I have some booklets you can read for more information, and while you are looking at those, I will ring your parents and we can see about getting you on some medication, okay?”

Derek bristled, but nodded.

Andy came into his room that evening after dinner, while Derek was lying in bed, staring at the new pot of pills on his desk.

“Hey, there.”

Derek didn’t reply. He just shuffled across so that there was space for Andy to slide under the covers next to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“The same. A little confused. Totally overwhelmed. Like I should have cried by now but nothing’s happening.”

“It’s a lot.”

Derek wanted to scream at Andy that he had no idea. Instead, he pressed his lips together and turned his face into the pillow.

“I do have a question.”

“Yeah?”

Andy took a while to formulate what he wanted to ask. Derek almost started to drift off to sleep. “Were you serious? Have you never had a crush or anything on anyone here?”

“I’ve never had a crush on anyone. Except maybe in elementary school, this one girl, but I don’t think kid crushes count. I don’t want to think about people like that. Not here.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you can control how you feel about people.”

Derek frowned. He didn’t know what Andy meant, or where he was going with this.

“I just— Never mind.” They lay there in silence for a while. Finally, Andy seemed to decide he couldn’t let the topic drop. “Just most people do have crushes on other people at school. It’s normal. It wouldn’t be weird if you did.”

Something about the conversation set Derek on edge. It had already been a difficult day, and all he wanted to do was sleep. “But it is weird that I don’t. That’s what you’re trying to say, isn’t it?”

“For God’s sake, stop being so sen—”

Andy cut himself off with an intake of breath. They stared at each other warily.

“Stop being so sensitive?”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t mean that. I know it’s been a horrible day. You have a right to be upset right now. It’s not a bad thing if you’re feeling a bit touchy, or if you don’t have any crushes, or if that never changes or anything. I’m not saying it’s weird. I’m just— I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

His eyes darted upwards, which Derek knew was a tic of Andy’s when he was lying. He bit his lip and rolled over. “I just want to sleep, okay? You can stay if you want, but I want to sleep.”

There was a soft sigh, and the brush of fingers over his hair before Andy settled his arm around Derek’s waist and they fell into silence.

#nurseyweek #omgcp #omgcp fanfic #derek nurse #check please! #stephwrites #freshverse tag