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feelingofcontent · 2 years

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DNP Rewatch: Taking Quizzes About Myself!

Date video was published: 09/16/2016 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 316

A very rare 2016 solo Phil video; the first since April. He’s wearing the same shirt as in the skits in Dan’s last video so I wonder if they filmed the same day.

0:00 - everything is so blue in this video...the bedding, Phil’s shirt, and especially his eyes

0:04 - reference to the WILL DAN AND PHIL SURVIVE AUSTRALIA? video

0:12 - at least they weren’t gone for as long this time so I would hope they survived a little better

0:18 - oh that one is very dead

0:30 - Dan also tweeted about being ready for autumn. And they did get PSLs shortly after this

0:40 - I bet they were so glad that the next apartment had aircon

0:45 - love to see what Phil thinks are his “guilty” pleasures. Also, quiff and glasses Phil!

0:52 - the shifty Phil face! I love it 😂

0:55 - the whole concept of this video got an embarrassed-at-himself Phil giggle

1:00 - that has to be so weird; I can’t really imagine what it would be like to have personality quizzes about myself that just exist. DNP probably have a lot of things like that though

1:08 - aww at one of his reasons being making the quiz creators happy

1:12 - “am I secretly part robot?” ...of course that’s what his thinks the other percentage is, lol

1:16 - checking himself out in the gif! It is a good one. The lighting he has in this video is almost the same, haha

1:23 - I really don’t think I want to know where his mind went at “gimme a huge bean”

1:28 - wow, big confession there. A lot of things he doesn’t like are texture-related

1:43 - sees Dan’s name; immediately smiles and giggles

1:50 - there are clearly “right” answers here but I love that Phil is not fully committed to those

1:56 - northern Phil!...and then he goes with that one too

2:14 - love the gif for this question. I also don’t know what the “correct” answer is for this one, but Phil went for the most creative one

2:39 - well that seems like it’s supposed to be a “Dan” answer

2:49 - the deadpan “no. I do not wear those outside” 😂

2:57 - christ. sometimes Phil can be loud about it too 🥺

3:05 - Phil is great at sound effects

3:10 - I’ll compare Phil’s results to Dan’s once I get to the video where Dan does quizzes like this. But you can tell that Phil’s actual personality/thoughts were less easy for the quiz writers to get to for the results

3:23 - Phil’s reasoning for some of these is so out there

3:32 - “a walk at 6am” seems extremely out of the ordinary for him. He looks like it was a bit horrifying, lol

3:54 - love that he answers what he’s feeling in the moment and it seems like he would change answers on a different day

4:04 - well he is very energetic in this video and maybe also trying to escape the jet lag

4:15 - this is the most challenging question for him so far

4:25 - another one where he didn’t go with the obvious “Phil” answer! “I’m not gonna show you my feet” 😂

4:37 - both the “I don’t trust worms” and the quiet “Dan would freak out” are something else

4:43 - enough of a fanboy moment to make a video about. Didn’t they actually meet and interact with Taylor for the radio though?

4:47 - ahahaha, I love this bit and that Phil thinks that would be entertaining

5:07 - it has to be so strange reading an outside perspective on what someone thinks your personality is

5:24 - he literally giggles at every mention of Dan in this video...would love to know what he’s actually thinking

5:30 - did the quiz writer think Phil was outgoing?

5:35 - he didn’t even read the other options on the anime question, lol

5:40 - Johnlock reference of course

5:50 - they really do prefer to be at home...what was that “yas” from Phil I love it

6:00 - I’m laughing

6:08 - this one is so dumb...though Phil chose it

6:14 - behind the scenes insight! He talks about this photoshoot in DML2 as well; it must have been bad

6:35 - people really believed this

6:43 - Phil’s so proud at “beating” the quiz

7:02 - and being upset when the quiz beats him! lol

7:09 - “I guess that was fun” ...great facial expression

7:13 - well that’s very specific...although I feel like he kinda used this idea later for Anthony, Dan or a RAT?

7:15 - it should be...

7:26 - ...and he starts out well, but...

7:30 - ...then he’s SO bad, lol

7:50 - except when he knows exactly what Dan’s ear looks like 👀

8:06 - he’s so disappointed in himself

8:12 - there was a time when they wouldn’t say “Phan” at all but by this point they do. Phil looks scared

8:22 - LMAO at Phil picking himself 😂

8:30 - oh this one. I talked about the potential context of THE PHOTO BOOTH CHALLENGE when I wrote that post, and why it makes me 😭

8:37 - “it has a lot of fun memories” help.

8:44 - I love that for both questions Phil chooses joint videos

8:58 - that’s a strange question to answer about yourself and also a “safe” answer choice, haha

9:07 - slightly creeped out, but he does like the description for this one

9:34 - he didn’t read the introduction about the rarity of the glabella!

9:38 - “Dan’s crotch” 😳

9:46 - this is more hilarious because Dan is not wearing pants in his quiz video 😂

I love a video with a bit of an insight into how Phil’s brain works! He’s also quite funny in this one.

This is the last “regular” video for a while; DNP uploaded a lot of videos in the month after this, but they are all promoting either the TABINOF movies or DAPGO.

#dan and phil #dnp #dnpRewatch #amazingphil #phil lester #amazingphil videos #Taking Quizzes About Myself!

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twist-shout-and-shells · 3 years

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Loki: Religious Predestination v Free-Will

And how that affects his relationship with Mobius, narratively speaking

So. In case it isn’t clear by *gestures at my whole blog*, I’m a Supernatural blog. I’m a DeanCas blog. I haven’t been around much lately because there are very important, Orwellian things going on in Brasil, but I still keep up with the fandom. And, more important to this post, I still keep up with whatever Marvel’s doing, which means I get up at 7 am every Wednesday to watch Loki.

(Before we start, I’d like to note that I had never actually published any meta on Tumblr. The most I had done was give it to my philosophy and biology teachers as school essays. So, bear with me, okay?)

Well, what does Supernatural have to do with Loki? Not much, except for the narrative they very obviously share. The characters are different, their motivations too, and so are many of the variables that surround, but deep down, at the core, it is the same narrative of Religious Predestination versus Free-Will. And yes, that drives me all the way up the walls.

Religious Predestination is the idea that all events, past, present, and future have been foretold, “written”, predicted by divine, omnipotent beings. There are different types of Predestination, but the two I think fit the most here are Double Predestination and Middle Knowledge (yes, most of my knowledge of this comes from Wikipedia, sue me).

The first claims that God (or whichever omnipotent divine being is responsible for the predestination, in this case, the Time-Keepers) chooses from his own will who will be “condemned” and who will be “saved”. This applies to the show when we consider the fact that Loki has been “predestined” to be a villain. Is all he’s ever been, it’s what he was “born to be”, while the Avengers were all born to be heroes, according to the decrees of the Time-Keepers.

Meanwhile, Middle Knowledge defends that, before the creation of the world (or, in this case, the Sacred Timeline), God already knew every choice that every free-will possessing creature could make in any given circumstance, and He chose the “timeline” that most suited his will. This version also makes sense when we consider the existence of multiple timelines and that the Time-Keepers united them and decided what would be the proper flow of time.

Now, which exact version of Religious Predestination to pick isn’t exactly my point here. My point is that I) everything about the TVA screams Religious Predestination allegory, from the minutemen and other agents being “created” to the words “decree” and “dictate” being thrown around whenever Ravonna is on screen or someone’s talking about the Time-Keepers (who just so happen to be kind of worshipped at the TVA, as there are so many statues of them. They are treated like gods. They are gods.). Do you know what else is a Religious Predestination allegory? Blade Runner. Do you know what was one of the main inspirations for the TVA’s design? Blade Runner! That could mean nothing or that could mean something given *gestures vaguely at the rest of this post*.

So. Loki seeks to escape his “Destiny”. He wants to make his own choices without them being decreed by divine, omnipotent beings. He wants his successes and failures (but mostly his successes) to be his own, and, most important, he doesn’t want to be what everyone expects him to be. Not anymore. Not after what he saw at the TVA. Because everyone is telling him that he was “born to be” a villain (or, at the very least, a side character), he will now want to prove to everyone that he can be more than that. Because he is that “insubordinate, stubborn, and unpredictable” (even if he plans on overthrowing the TVA, I don’t think he sees that as an act of villainy. Maybe he never even planned on actually overthrowing the TVA, maybe he just wanted to get the Variant).

And Mobius, well. Mobius is a good TVA agent. Not all good, of course, ‘cause he has shown more than once that he doesn’t completely agree with how the TVA does things (“They should be scared” “Not of us”), even though, at the end of the day, he believes in them and accepts their mission because he believes they are doing the right thing (unless I’m completely wrong about Mobius, he is the true villain of the show, and has an evil plan of his own. Sorry, I saw a post and now I’m paranoid). So, what happens when an already questioning, though devoted, agent of the Time Variance Authority like Mobius comes into contact with someone like Loki, who pretty much worships Chaos? After having studied Loki’s whole life, and admittedly being a big fan? Well, this happens:

(If looks could kill indeed, Mobius)

Loki is supposed to drag Mobius out of his comfort zone at the TVA, to make him question things harder. Because it would seem “good people are never truly good”, so what’s behind the TVA’s Orwellian, Blade Runner-y scenario? And, even if they’re just really boring and full of paperwork, why should anyone dictate the proper flow of time? What about Free-Will, what about Chaos?

That is how this sort of narrative is supposed to go. Because Loki and Mobius are complete opposites in where they came from and who they wanna be, but at the same time, they’re much alike, as Ravonna even says. She accuses Mobius of being just as insubordinate and stubborn as Loki is. Loki was born and he wanted to be king because he thought (and was led to believe) it was his birthright. Now he wants to tell his own story more than ever ‘cause how dare the Time-Keepers predestinate Loki. Meanwhile, Mobius was created and all he’s ever known is the TVA’s order. But he is stubborn at heart and he craves humanity (the jet ski???), even if he believes he can’t have it because it’s too chaotic or simply not meant for him.

Mobius doesn’t see Loki as a villain (“no one bad is ever truly bad”?). He believes that Loki can be better. And Loki, if I’m reading this right, should help Mobius see that he’s, you know, kind of working for an authoritarian agency, what with “dictating the proper flow of time” and all that. (Yeah, yeah, I know. Multiversal war this, multiversal war that, but isn’t Doctor Strange’s next movie called Multiverse of Madness? Also, has anyone ever actually met the Time-Keepers? Or do all the TVA agents just blindly follow their orders? Maybe we’re bound to have a Multiverse by the end of this anyway.)

(And I’ve seen this narrative before. Faithless man meets angel, makes angel question Heaven’s orders, angel finds out Heaven is not that good after all, angel literally fall for the faithless man. In between, there is a lot of staring and standing too close and betrayals. It’s ridiculous how similar it is.)

So, where was I going with all of this…look, narratively speaking, from what we’ve seen so far, these two are a perfect match (and I’m not even mentioning Loki’s thing for older men in positions of power, which Mobius is completely aware of

). But there is a big, big distance between the narrative pointing towards something and the creative (though, let’s be honest, probably the executive) powers following through.

Now, it wasn’t just the Religious Predestination thing that caught my attention here, no. It wasn’t even the Blade Runner parallels (I’m quite sure Loki has Galatians Syndrome, but that’s a whole other post). It was how similar the plot of Loki is to the plot of Where Mischief Lies by Mackenzi Lee. It caught my attention to the point that I’m nervously glancing at my book while writing this. But I don’t want this to be too long, so I’m gonna put that on a separate post.

Anyway, I hope at least some of this made sense, and thank you so much for reading through my rambling!

#loki #loki series #loki x mobius #mobius #the loki meta no one asked for #i know the gifs are really bad #i made them myself #i had never giffed before #yes i have a thing for blade runner #yes im going nuts with this narrative #lokius #mobius m mobius #i don't expect any of this to make sense #it sounded more coherent in my head

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lillianofliterature · 3 years

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word count: 818 || warnings: fluff, light language, friendly banter

You tapped your pencil impatiently against the hardbound textbook you had plopped open in your lap. Your eyes skimmed over passages and figures quickly and with growing impatience as the giggles of two teenage buffoons serenaded your homework-oriented mindset. Glancing up, you found both Peter and Ned sitting on the bottom bunk of Peter’s bed leaning over a laptop, gushing about the newest episode of The Mandalorian, which they had yet to watch. As much as you loved the show and wanted to catch up on the latest leaks, you wanted nothing more than to be done with this ridiculous last-minute group project your physics teacher had assigned you all.

Frustrated, you slid your textbook into the floor and flicked Peter on the shin to gain his attention. “Do I have to do everything here?”

Ned leaned away from Peter and offered you an apologetic, lopsided smile. “Sorry, (Y/n), it’s just so exciting! I can’t believe Ahsoka Tano is going to be fully fleshed in all her live-action glory! It’s going to be amazing. I’m so in love with her already.”

“Whoa, whoa, dude,” Peter thumped Ned on the leg, threatening him playfully. “I already called dibs.”

“As if Ahsoka Tano, the most badass character to ever come out of the Star Wars universe, would ever pick one of you two over Ewan McGregor. Or Pedro Pascal in Mandalorian armor.”

“Ouch,” Ned whimpered.

“Geez, (Y/n), that one hurt!” Peter exclaimed with a grin, nudging you with his foot.

Ned’s brows drew together and he cocked his face to the side in that funny way, as if he was about to deal a hefty burn. “Whoa, wait, did you just ship Obi-Wan Kenobi and Ahsoka Tano? ‘Cause, that’s kind of messed up. I mean, I know he’s hot and all, but-“

“Ewww, you did! You totally just did!”

You groaned, stretching your legs out onto the carpet in a feigned tantrum of exhaustion. “You guys know what I meant! I do not ship them! There’s not even a ship name for them because it’s the worst possible option for a ship.”

“So you’ve done the research?” Peter prodded, baiting your vicious sarcasm.

“Err, ser you’rve dern ther rerserch?” You mocked his voice shrilly, channeling your best Lore Soong impression. “No, you idiot, I just spend enough time on Tumblr to see ship names float around a thousand times before I even blink.”

“I mean, what kind of ship are we talking about, though? Because actually, if you think about it, they’ve got sort of a nice father-daughter or wise-uncle-and-spunky-niece thing going.”

“Okay, no, we’re not going down that rabbit hole,” you tucked your legs back over each other and gestured to the mess of textbooks, papers, and project parts littering the bedroom floor, “Let’s hurry up and get this done and then we can binge-watch the whole thing.”

Peter slid off his mattress and plopped himself next to you on the floor, reaching over your lap and bringing his shoulder intentionally close to yours. He grabbed your pencil pouch rather than his own that lay by his feet. You caught his grin as he did so, returning it with your own blushful smile. It was something he always did, especially during class. You supposed he liked borrowing your supplies and knick-knacks in the same way you enjoyed stealing his sweatshirts.

Ned stood from the bed, closed his laptop, and sat down in the black swivel chair by Peter’s desk. He returned to his designated task of gluing the pieces of your jet propulsion prototype for a few moments while you and Peter compared notes and started mocking up the explanatory essay that would detail the process of your group’s idea. It was just as you both got into a good rhythm of concentration when Ned let out a sharp gasp and turned back around to face you.

“Guys, I just realized something,” He whispered in awe, the glue gun poised in one hand and the metal plate in the other.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Since Anakin and the Child were born around roughly the same time, what if the Jedi Council chose the wrong one when they were looking for the Chosen One? What if Baby Yoda was supposed to bring balance to the Force instead of Anakin? And the entire franchise was the result of misidentification?”

“Ned!” You both exclaimed in unison, drawing his name out. Something about that felt very much like a spoiler—even if there was no confirmation about it publicly.

It was the best theory you’d heard so far about the Child’s purpose, but there would be a very temperamental Physics teacher with a bright red pen at his desk tomorrow waiting for procrastinating nerds like yourselves to come in with a half-completed project. The theories and fangirling would have to wait. . .at least for another hour until Aunt May would undoubtedly interrupt with snacks.

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hotchscotchh · 3 years

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Reimagined; Chapter 2 - Owen Savage

This is so sappy and I’m not sorry. Also, I couldn’t find any gifs from this episode so I made some. I might post the set tomorrow :)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Mentions of past drug use, mentions of bullying

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Spencer works through his issues with the Owen Savage case.

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 —— Chapter 3

Based on 3x16 Elephant’s Memory

Hotch wasn’t sure what was going on with Reid during this case, but he was angry, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. He felt bad for the way he had to reprimand Reid, no matter how necessary it was, because the younger man was obviously hurting. He wouldn’t have acted in such a way otherwise. But, Hotch wasn’t about to let him continue to make decisions that were going to put his life at risk.

He knew what Reid had been going through the past year. How could he not? He wasn’t exactly being subtle about it. Hotch had a lot of guilt over not stepping up to help him. Gideon told Hotch that he was handling it, and Hotch fell into the trap of believing it. He didn’t know that Gideon hadn’t said a word to the young genius. Hadn’t helped him in the slightest. He wouldn’t forgive Gideon or himself for that.

“Reid,” Hotch called after they had both stepped off the jet. “Are you going to catch that movie?” Reid put his hands in his pocket, looked down at his feet and nodded. “I think I’ll come with you.”

Reid looked up at that, surprised. “Hotch, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. This is personal, it’s not something you should technically know about. If it comes out that you were aware of the situation, you’ll get in trouble. I’m not going to let you carry that burden.”

Hotch sighed. “Let me at least give you a ride. I don’t need to come with you, I just want to know that you’ve made it there safely. The metro isn’t running anymore anyway. I’m allowed to give my subordinate a ride home, right?”

“I suppose,” Reid answered, a hint of a smile playing across his features.

The ride to Reid’s “movie” was spent in silence. Neither man was ready to broach the day’s incident on a personal level. Reprimanding Reid as his superior was much easier than talking through feelings and past trauma.

Reid silently got out of the car when they arrived, but when the door was about to close, he opened it again and, with a shaky voice, asked, “should I expect you to be here when I come out?”

“Of course, Reid. I am giving my subordinate a ride home, after all,” Hotch replied with a sad smile. He didn’t like that the man thought so little of him that he would leave him here to find his own way home.

When he was gone, though, Aaron couldn’t help but let his mind wander. First to the past few weeks. This wasn’t the first time he’d given Spencer a late-night ride home after the Metro had closed. It almost always landed them going out to dinner, though. It was something that he was coming to anticipate. It was becoming his favorite part of the week. He’d known there was a lot to Reid, but he’d only known him on a professional level. Getting to know him personally was something he could only describe as… titillating. He was also kind of choosing to ignore the extremely inappropriate attraction he was realizing had grown in him.

His thoughts were also wandering to what Spencer could have possibly gone through to make him so closely identify with Owen Savage. He knew about the bullying in high school, that comments about being a “12-year-old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school” had not gone unnoticed. So, he knew, in theory, that Reid was traumatized by the experience, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he really wanted the details.

Aaron knew, from experience, how cruel children could be. He was sure his experience wasn’t nearly as extreme as Spencer’s, but he had been bullied. He’d been bullied because his parents never showed up to school events. Because he played baseball instead of football. Because he was never going to live up to the standards of his father. Not in the community’s eyes, at least. Little did they know what was going on behind those closed doors. But that’s a story for another time.

----

An hour after he left, spencer returned to Aaron’s car feeling fifty pounds lighter. Aaron hadn’t started the car after Spencer had gotten in and put his seat belt on, so he looked over to find the older man staring at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read.

“Feel better?” Aaron asked. Spencer nodded in reply. Aaron waited a moment, giving Spencer the chance to say something (even though he knew he wouldn’t) before speaking up again. “Dinner? There’s an all-night diner a few blocks from here.”

“Okay. I don’t-” Spencer abruptly stopped his train of thought, looking down to where his hands were tracing nervous patterns on his knees. He took a moment to decide if this was really something he wanted to disclose to his boss before remembering that this wasn’t his boss. Not right now. This isn’t Hotch. This is Aaron. The man who takes him out for dinner once a week just to listen to him talk. The man who knows about his addiction. Who wouldn’t judge him, no matter what he said. “I don’t think I should be alone just yet,” he finally finished, voice low as if he thought he might be chastised for his words.

Aaron understood that the admission wasn’t something that Spencer wanted to discuss and started the car without another word.

----

They were seated in the diner, full mugs of coffee sitting in front of them, looking over their menus when Aaron decided to start the conversation they both knew was coming. “Spencer, you know you can call me anytime you don’t feel like you should be alone, right? If you need a ride to a meeting, or even just someone to sit with you, I am more than happy to be that person for you.”

Spencer let out a sigh, the self-incriminating thoughts that had been plaguing his mind before coming back into play. “No, Hotch, I can’t come to you. You’re my boss. And if Strauss finds out that you knew about my addiction and didn’t report it, she’ll finally have grounds to fire you. I can’t let you carry that burden; don’t you understand that?”

Hotch hated that word. Burden. This was the second time Reid had used it in the same argument. “Stop. You’re not a burden, Reid. To anyone. You never have been, and you never will be. And screw what Strauss has to say. I’m not your boss in a time like this. I’m not Hotch. I’m your friend. I’m Aaron.”

Spencer let out a laugh. That was almost the exact thought that had been running through his mind in the car earlier.

“I want to be your friend, Spencer. I want to be there for you, I want to help you through this.”

Spencer looked down at his hands that were, again, tracing nervous patterns on the tops of his knees. He made an attempt to inconspicuously wipe the tears from his eyes, but it didn’t go unnoticed. He hadn’t expected that to come out of Aaron’s mouth. Spencer never had friends, except Ethan, but he was still in New Orleans. He’s never had someone he could lean on; someone he could be vulnerable with.

Aaron placed his hand palm up on the table in an invitation for Spencer to receive some kind of grounding, some kind of comfort. He took the opportunity, lacing their fingers together and looking up to meet Aaron’s eyes. “Spencer, I know you’ve never had a consistent support system, but you do now. You have a family. You can come to any one of us, we won’t judge you. Will you tell me what bothered you so much about this case? I’d like to know, as your boss and your friend, so we can prevent another big blowout like that in the future.”

So, he told him. About the goal post. About how his mother would leave visible bruises sometimes and no one would say anything. About how alone he was. About the guilt he held for institutionalizing his mother. The biggest issue, though, was how he thought most people just used him for his brain. Once the flood gates opened, there was no going back.

“Oh, Spence,” Aaron consoled when the words finally stopped flowing from Spencer’s mouth. They were both openly crying at this point, the waitress had decided to stay out of their way. The conversation was visibly intense. Aaron stood from his seat in the booth and slid in next to Spencer, pulling the hurting man into his chest and just letting him cry.

“Spencer, there are so many amazing things about you. I don’t think I could even name half of them, but your brain isn’t at the top of the list. You’re amazing because you’re you,” he said with a breathy laugh. “You do magic tricks in the bull pen just to make the girls smile. You have all this amazing knowledge that you could’ve put to use in so many ways, but you chose the FBI. You chose to help people. To stop killers. To save lives. That’s why you’re amazing. Sure, your brain is too, but you’re so much more than that.”

Spencer wanted to be embarrassed. He was causing a scene. But the comfort he was receiving from this was ridiculous. After a few minutes he managed to sit up and place a hand on Aaron’s chest. “Thank you,” he said, softly and sincerely. “Sorry about your shirt. And for causing a scene.”

“Don’t worry about it, Spence,” Aaron answered, a small smile returning to his face. “You obviously needed that.” Aaron returned to his side of the booth and held a hand up to flag down a waitress. They ordered milkshakes and enjoyed them between idle chatter that flowed freely between them.

Aaron stood up saying, “it’s my turn to pay,” and holding a hand out to help Spencer out of the booth. Spencer let a brilliant smile take over his face and it made Aaron stop for a moment. This was what started his attraction. That damn smile. It was all consuming.

----

Spencer fell asleep in the car on the way to his apartment. It hadn’t taken long; they were both exhausted. When they arrived at Spencer’s apartment, Aaron softly shook him awake. The words that came out of Spencer’s mouth next surprised Aaron.

“Will you stay the night? I- I just don’t think I should be alone yet.”

“Of course, Spencer.”

Spencer’s couch was comfortable. That night, Aaron dreamed up Spencer. Mostly about that big giddy smile that lit up his face that made him so beautiful. He woke up smiling, but confused. When did “Reid” become “Spencer?” And when did the adjectives he associated with him change from “smart” and “amazing” to include “beautiful” and “perfect?”

#aaron hotchner/spencer reid #criminal minds #hotchreid #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #Derek Morgan #Penelope Garcia #Owen Savage #tw mentions of drug use

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ofwizardsandmen · 3 years

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Foreign territory

Pasión de Gavilanes AU

Characters: Tara (OC), Mark Lee, Sungjae Lee, M, Emily

Word count: 2,6k

Genre: fluff, angst(?)

(Part of a larger story and multiple AUs, but can be read on its own)

“Our favorite girl is here!” An excited voice exclaimed causing Tara to spin around scandalized, her abundant jet black hair whipping about her head and eventually falling down her shoulders in a nearly cinematographic way.

Across the room, the owner of the voice—a tall, long-necked man of pretty dimples,—stood by a massive wooden staircase, keeping an educated distance and looking puzzled. Considering that his last encounter with Tara Lee had been anything but peaceful—the night ended up in chaos, with her cousins storming out of their own party,—he wasn’t expecting to find her pacing up and down the foyer of his house with a toddler in arms.

“I- I meant Astrid, of course,” The man, M —as his closest friends and family called him— added, nervously looking away from Tara’s judging glances. For someone who barely knew Tara and whose only “interactions” with her had consisted in cold remarks and snarky comments —from her part—the man still took offense in the way her expression contorted into something mildly similar to disgust. “Anyway… Thanks for coming”

Tara who couldn’t quite believe she’d dared to set foot in that house—if her mother or any of her aunts found out she was there, she’d be kicked out of the Delacroix State in a heartbeat,—and was still surprised by how majestic and prosperous everything seemed, only responded with a single acknowledging nod of the head.

“Wow Astrid, you’re growing so fast” M chose to ignore the fact Tara was looking around the house, seemingly unimpressed and held out both arms calling his niece’s name. In an effort to cut the distance between them, he also gave two short, cautious steps forward. “It was about time you were allowed to visit your dad and uncles,” he said, his voice changing drastically to what was supposed to be a child-friendly tone that, Tara thought to herself, was hard to emulate with his deep voice.

However, Astrid, the one-year-old toddler—daughter of Minah and Sungjae—was easy to impress. She cooed cutely waving her tiny hands around in the air as if trying to reach for the crystal lamp—or probably just her tall uncle.

The scene was sweet enough for Tara to relax and let out a soft chuckle as she made the mental note to tell her cousins about this later. There was no doubt Jane and Minah would go in a long rant about how Astrid was turning into a little traitor. They would probably have two different people to blame, but it would obviously involve the Lee brothers.

According to Tara’s cousins, M and his brothers, Sungjae and Mark, were the root of all evil, the equivalent to Satan on Earth and the reason Delacroix Group was bordering bankruptcy. And truth to be told, once upon a time, Tara herself was convinced of it and she had even go as far as campaigning against the three brothers. Tara hated each of them: Sungjae and whatever it was that had Minah acting like some hormonal teenager, M and those dimples that seemed to erase all traces of judgment from Jane's brain and above it all, Mark Lee and that stupid smile of his.

But lately, things didn’t seem so black and white anymore. Tara had promised Mark—the same Mark Lee she hated to the bone once upon a time— not to jump to conclusions when it came to their intentions anymore. And at least for now, she was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

For now, Tara had even offered to take Astrid to visit her dad and willingly drove 10 miles to the brothers' ranch. That was a weekly task Jane had taken upon herself, but that she refused to carry out after the fiasco at the Delacroix fashion show.

Tara didn’t blame her.

After all, the image of Astrid’s little arms moving up and down, desperately trying to reach for her uncle would have probably caused her cousin an aneurism.

Tara, on the other hand, was much more collected, wise, and less visceral. She was also the only person in Delacroix Manor willing to see the Lees. And anyhow, Tara wasn’t pleased with the prospect of spending another afternoon with her cousins if that meant having to act sympathetic when Jane complained about how that “deceptively handsome devil”—M, her husband— showed up unannounced to their collection’s launch party and “ruined” her date with Jaehyun Jung, a textile industrial she had been frequenting. Tara wasn't sure if Jane’s complained because—she claimed—M was the last person on Earth she wanted to see or because he looked so devastatingly hot that day, dressed in a classic Ralph Lauren suit that was a striking contrast with the clothes he usually wore, or because up until that day Jaehyun had no idea Jane was—technically—married.

Then there was Minah, who despite being less vocal on her complaints, lately looked so lifeless that her mere presence seemed to drain all the energy out of the room. Tara had vainly tried to play the role of supportive cousin who offered words of consolation and encouragement, but Minah always brushed her off. Unlike Jane, Minah avoided mentioning the Lee brothers at all costs. The last time Tara asked about Sungjae, Minah got angry and claimed to be absolutely unaffected by his new romantic relationship with Ashleigh Hastings. Of course, watching her drown herself in work and rosé suggested otherwise, but Tara didn’t dare to point out the flaws in her argument. Tara was also unwilling to spend another afternoon pretending not to notice Minah’s eyes filling out with tears every now and then.

“So, Jane won’t come anymore?” M asked, clearing his throat casually as if to get Tara’s attention. It worked because Tara snapped from her thoughts and looked back at him.

“What do you think?” She replied sarcastically. M opened his mouth to say something, but Tara signaled him to hold Astrid before the hyperactive toddler decided to jump off her arms. Once M was jiggling Astrid up and down and her laugh echoed down the hallway, Tara went on as if nothing had interrupted them “If you don’t want me to come here, next time-“

“For god’s sake, Tara, don’t be ridiculous” Another familiar voice spoke from behind her. Tara was quick to notice two things. The first one was that the man’s voice dripped exasperation, the second that her heart did a wild flip when he pronounced her name. “Of course we want you to come, especially if you’re bringing our niece to visit.”

Tara gulped quietly and slowly turned around.

She was greeted by a close-up of Mark, M’s younger brother and the owner of the vast lands adjacent to Delacroix State—where Tara and her extended family lived. There, smiling that exasperating smile—confident, but warmth-inducing and absolutely gorgeous—Tara had hated for months—years, probably—, Mark Lee stood blocking the sun rays filtering through the windows. The light gave him an angelic aura. It didn’t help he was suited in a beige suit that made his back look broader than Tara could remember.

“Hi Tara, nice to see you,” Mark said simply, a full smile still present in his face.

“Hey, how are you?” Tara mentally kicked herself thinking of how awkward and unnatural she sounded, how his simple words had her feeling all sorts of nervous.

Thankfully there was no time for further regret because Mark’s older brother, Sungjae, materialized at the top of the staircase and practically flew down the stairs, pulled his daughter from his brother’s arms and smothered her with kisses.

Astrid cried solid ten seconds but then burst out with loud contagious giggles.

Watching the Astrid & Sungjae show was oddly endearing, but somehow felt like an invasion of privacy. For a second or two Tara looked around trying to find a place to sneak to while Sungjae caught up on the missing time with his daughter. But when she started to move, Sungjae’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Ummm, so Minah is not coming?” He asked as Astrid played with a strand of his hair “She’s never talking to me again or what?” Sungjae’s eyes bored into Tara’s as if trying to get an honest answer from her.

“I did everything possible to bring Astrid” Tara replied with a frown, she hesitated before adding “I really don’t think I can convince Minah to come”

It resulted impossible to ignore the shadows immediately invading Sungjae’s eyes. Tara wondered if talking about her cousin had put them there or if there was something else worrying him. The man already looked a bit haggard when Tara first saw him, but upon further inspection, she realized he looked particularly hollow-cheeked and pale “It’s fine, I’m still thankful you brought my daughter, Tara” There was a pause where Sungjae looked at Astrid with a faint smile “I really mean it. Thank you”

“Well, don’t thank me…” With a slight tinge of guilt, Tara added “We really can’t stay long. I promised to take Astrid back before our aunts notice we’re gone. You know what they think of…” she trailed off, realizing how inappropriate it was to complete that sentence. Telling the Lee brothers how much her aunts despised them seemed unnecessary and somewhat repetitive considering those four women were not exactly subtle and never missed the chance to let M, Sungjae and Mark know they were as welcome in the region as a plague was in their fields.

Sungjae’s expression dropped considerably.

“Tara, you just got here” M protested, though he kept his kind smile plastered on the face “Sungjae hasn’t seen Astrid in weeks, he won’t admit it, but he was going insane”

Mark chuckled at his brother's comment, knowing Sungjae wouldn’t appreciate being exposed like that, but looking away when Sungjae frowned at him.

“No, I am serious, guys” Tara said apologetically “We have to go soon”

“Tara, don’t be so impatient” it was almost ironic that Mark let out an impatient sigh just after calling her that. Tara looked away to hide the smile tugging at the corner of her lips

“Yes, Sungjae deserves some time with Astrid” A female voice coincided, taking Tara by surprise. When she looked up to the second floor, she found a beautiful young woman—Emily Choi—smiling down at them and leaning against the banister. Emily was the only daughter of Madame Elsie Choi, a wealthy and old land-owner who was too close of a friend of Tara’s aunts for her liking. However, as of recently, Emily had officially moved into the Lee residence, God knows why. Rumors said Emily was actually related by blood to the Lee brothers, but Tara was not one to listen to gossip or care about other people’s affairs.

And yet, she still supposed the change of air had been beneficial to Emily because the girl looked happier than Tara remembered her to be when she was still living with her old mom and those two annoying cousins of her. Emily smiled at her and waved a hand cordially.

“I was just dropping by to say the staff prepared a little tea party at the terrace, if you want to join me and Lucas,” she announced happily.

“Oi, he’s coming today? Again?” Mark questioned, eyes narrowing a bit comically.

“He was here yesterday and the day before. At this rate I think it’ll be better to have him moving here” M said with an eye roll

“I was just being nice” Emily scoffed, but her smile did not vanish from her lips “You’re welcome to join, but if you don’t want to, then” she shrugged casually. “I’ll be at the terrace if you need me” She made a fake reverence and before disappearing, she briefly added a “nice to see you, Tara.”

“And that’s our cue to leave” Tara attempted to move forward to retrieve Astrid from her father’s arms when a hand wrapped around her wrist, keeping her in place. The woman didn’t need to turn around to know it was Mark who was holding her back, partly because M would’ve never dared to touch her and partly because her pulse accelerated inexplicably.

“I-“ Mark looked at his hand, as if startled by his own actions “I would like to talk to you before you go, Tara” he let go of her wrist and gave her a quick apologetic curtsy that caused his brothers to raise brows and share incredulous looks. “If you follow me-”

Mark led Tara through the stables and horse training facilities of his ranch. “El Dorado” was undoubtedly the greatest horse farm in the region, sprawled for miles and neighboring the Delacroix Ranch. Mark—and by default his brothers—had become the owner of this billionaire property through what people considered to be a questionable marriage that didn’t even hit the 24-hour mark. Tara had recently found out that the story was not as simplistic and accepting that the Mark she claimed to hate for years was not a gold-digging bastard had been quite of a ride. It started with him showing up at some of the most exclusive events in the region, avid of revenge and acting like he was beyond the rest of land owners. Then Tara nearly killed him, knocking him off his horse. And ended up with Tara saving his life from some lowlifes who attempted to kill him. All in the span of a month. Now, Tara followed him God knows where and for some reason she couldn’t completely grasp she didn't even protest.

“The Ranch is spectacular, you really manage it properly” Tara commented, mostly because the silence was starting to stretch for too long.

“Well, it still has nothing on yours” The man gave her a lopsided smile. It was not a secret that Tara was—or at least used to be until very recently—the real mastermind behind the Delacroix Ranch's prosperity.

“Well, lately we’ve had-“ Tara paused “a few setbacks, as you probably noted”

“It’s Julien’s fault, no?” Mark wasn't subtle, but it was an open secret that Julien Toubeau—Minah’s ex-husband and one of the most despicable humans on Earth—had recently been appointed Deputy Finance Manager of the Delacroix Group and things had gone downhill since.

Tara didn’t deny it “Mostly” she nodded “but the girls —she said referring to her cousins Jane and Minah— and I have a backup plan to save the ranch” Tara explained.

“And I’m sure you’ll do great” Mark reached to pat Tara’s shoulder, causing her to stop walking and freeze on the spot. “Especially you, Tara” he said, moving so they were facing each other “Everybody knows you’re brilliant and hardworking”

Tara looked down, afraid that if she allowed Mark to look into her eyes, he’d noticed the effect his words had on her.

“And I was furious when Julien tried to take your position from the board of governors, you know?” Mark also looked down in an attempt to find whatever it was that Tara found so interesting on the ground.

“Thanks, that means-“ she took a deep breath and raised her head “a lot to me, Mark”

“You have nothing to thank me. In fact, I should be thanking you for bringing Astrid to visit.”

“Honestly, I’m not doing it to ingratiate myself with you or your brothers, Mark” Tara suddenly turned serious “I did it because I knew Sungjae would do anything to see her and I didn’t want more problems. Things are-“ she hesitated “very complicated right now and I don’t want our families to start fighting again and-” Tara trailed off when she noticed Mark slipping a hand into hers. “And it’s not right for you to hold my hand” she added, without concealing a giddy smile making its way to her lips “The workers can see us and God knows what they’ll think. I don’t want any rumors floating around”

“And you know, I’d do more than just holding your hand,” Mark said leaning closer and closer to Tara.

“Don’t even think about it, Mark” Tara chuckled, her face a mixture of amusement and regret “It’s really not the right time”

“So, you don’t let me send you flowers, you won’t let me thank you for saving my life, Tara-“ Mark inhaled loudly “I’ve been meaning to ask you out-“ Mark could almost hear an excuse escaping from Tara’s lips, so he hurried to place a finger over them “You can’t say no, the only valid answer is a place and a date”

Tara shook her head defeated “Is it supposed to be a date?” She dared to question although she knew very well it was.

...

#pasion de gavilanes au #mark #tara #otp #sungjae #emily #m #story #oc

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kiss-my-freckle · 3 years

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I plan to do a Rederina gif set at some point, but I’ve been trying to settle my stomach since the finale. I feel gutted. With several options they could’ve went with, and they chose to kill Liz. She was the entire point of the show. The reason Red built his criminal empire. The reason he surendered. The reason he worked the blacklist. Proecting Agnes is the only point for that now. When they killed Liz, they killed the only reason to reveal Red’s real identity. She’s the only one who gave a damn about who he was. That reveal has lost its point. I don’t like what they forced Red to do in this episode. Because asking Liz to kill her own mother would be the last thing he’d do. At the same time, the first thing he’d do if it meant Liz would be protected. The fact that he was dying only made it easier, and I understand that. He wasn’t wanting to die, he was willing to die. There’s a difference. But they should’ve went with the burn notice and put her in hiding like Samar. It would’ve been a helluva lot better than this.

So yeah, I’m angry. Just know my headcanon for mother & daughter picks up on the jet after Red’s doctor tended to Liz’s gunshot wound. Because I will forever be Team Rostova. Sigh... but as angry as I am, I can’t ignore the positives I see in the episode and the way they filmed it. The flashback montage was gorgeous. Not only showing the many who loved Liz - alive and dead, but showing a life lived. The wife. The colleague. The lover. The daughter. The mother. The friend. And thanks to Beth Ryker’s appearance, we got to be reminded of the hero she was. I also loved the fact that she didn’t die alone. Red held her until she was gone. It was a nice crossover of Katarina holding her when she was born. One of the most heartbreaking, yet beautiful things I’ve ever seen. And Liz, who I believe learned Red’s real identity in that moment - having her mother there, holding her as she always has. In her last moments, Liz knew she was loved. Not abandoned, but loved and protected.

I’m beside myself. Where do they go from here? There’s no revenge to be had because Red killed the man that killed Liz. He only assumed Neville told others, so we can’t even be sure his friends will come for war. And why would Red bother to fight another war when he’s dying anyway? They could have him fight for Neville’s empire, but what’s the point? It’d still be for Agnes because she’s his only surviving purpose. They literally wrote this into a corner. Everyone lost except those who truly hated her character and felt the show could do without her. It can’t. Red’s character is completely centered around hers. "I can't live for long with what I feel inside. I don't see how anyone can." Realistically, Red wouldn’t move forward without Agnes. Because of who he is. And a child centered alongside him wouldn’t sell. They’d be best to have Red lose Agnes, throw him back into his criminal world, and have the task force hunting him down as their #2.

#Rederina

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essiefreds · 6 years

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I tried to find a GIF that Steve looked sleepy in. I think this one’s kinda close.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22

Word Count: 2119

Tagged: @hotemotionalmess, @hufflepeople, @justtolkienabout, @uservalkyrie

Several weeks passed. Between work with you on the important aspects of the 21st century, Steve began to adjust on his own. He emerged more frequently from his apartment in SHIELD’s New York headquarters, and wandered the building on his own. When he had someone with him (typically yourself), he would go outside, to visit Central Park, to purchase his own groceries, just to get out. He told you that he’d locked himself in from the world for long enough.

You were glad, and not afraid to admit, proud, even, that he’d gotten this far both on his own, and with your assistance.

Still, even with his improvements, both of you knew that he’d never full grow accustomed to the future he had not seen emerge from the past. There were too many things that still confused them, too many things that he did not agree with. It had taken him time to admit it, but Steve was slowly growing an understanding that the future was not the ideal one that had been thought of.

It was a work in progress, and would continue to be.

The place he spent a lot of his time in was the training room that resided on one of the many floors of headquarters. There were plenty of things to punch and kick at, and because he had been locked away in an ice prison for so long, Steve determined that he needed to work out, to get back the strength that ‘had been lost’ while he was asleep.

Just looking at him made you wonder if he’d lost any strength at all, but you did not argue, since it got him out of his apartment.

Still, you started to worry when you came into work on multiple mornings to the report that Captain Rogers had woken in the middle of the night, and gone down to the training room for hours on end. Until that point, he had not mentioned anything about nightmares or failure to sleep through the night to you, but apparently those two things were in fact plaguing him.

You waited a few days, to see if he chose to bring up the subject during your visits with him. He did not, and for the first time, you decided that maybe you needed to initialize a conversation that delved into the damage that his hibernation had caused.

During breakfast the day following your choice (Steve had taken up cooking, which you hadn’t known was something he could do, but were pleasantly surprised to find that he could), you looked at him, levelly, and waited for him to notice.

He did, after only about two seconds. It took him only another three to study your expression, and see that you were about to start an important conversation.

With a sigh, he set down his fork. “What is it?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you have trouble sleeping?”

“I didn’t think there was any reason to,” Steve responded, keeping his eyes on you. To his credit, he did not look guilty. “Medication doesn’t really help, and talking about the things that cause it just make it worse.”

“And you know that second part for a fact?” you prompted, not believing him.

He was silent, which was a dead giveaway that he had no idea if his assumption was correct. You sighed to yourself. “Steve, I thought you trusted me.”

“I do,” he said immediately.

“Then… why didn’t you trust me with something like this?” you asked him. “My job is to help you, and I can’t if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Steve glanced away. You did not appreciate that he was already putting up a wall between the two of you. You only wanted to ensure that he was adjusting well in all aspects, not in just understanding the new world he was living in. Not being able to help with his disturbed sleep was a major fault in your final goal.

Resisting a part of yourself that wanted to reach across the table and take his hand, you merely said, softly, “Please?”

Steve let out a breath, his shoulders rising and falling. He kept his eyes averted from yours, but he did say, “It’s just nightmares.”

“Of?”

“The plane crash, the war…” He lifted his shoulders. “It’s nothing that doesn’t make sense, based on how jarring the experiences were.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you informed him. “What did you do before you knew where the gym was?”

“Just… laid in bed, staring at the ceiling,” he responded. “I didn’t know what else there was to do.”

“Do you ever try going back to sleep?”

“I used to,” Steve said. He picked at the plastic on the table with a finger. “It never worked. I couldn’t relax.”

You sat back in your chair, studying him. Even with the Super Soldier Serum, he was not impervious to the effects of lack of sleep. There were bags beginning to darken under his eyes, and it seemed like there was a heavy weight pressing down on his shoulders. You cursed yourself for not seeing it before. You needed to take some action, and soon, or else his exhaustion was going to start to show in mood swings. That was the last thing that needed to happen.

“All right,” you began after a minute of silence. Steve finally looked at you again. “Here’s what I’m thinking; we’ll try different methods of helping normal people get back to sleep after they wake up in the middle of the night. A lot of people use sound machines to help soothe them, or certain aromas from candles and incense. One of those things has to work for you, and we’re going to find it.”

“And if we don’t?” Steve asked. From the tone of his voice, you could tell that he seriously thought there was a possibility that no solution could be found.

“Then instead of going to the training room, you call me,” you told him.

Immediately, he shook his head. “I’m not going to wake you up in the middle of the night just to… come here to talk me down from not going back to sleep,” he said.

“Yes, you are, because I’m -” you cut yourself off, and lowered your gaze to the plate that sat in front of you. The remnants of scrambled eggs and hash-browns littered it. You hated Nick Fury for making it impossible for you to truthfully tell Steve why it was you cared so much. It was like the order to avoid building a friendship with him had made it impossible for you to actually refer to him as a friend.

At least, you couldn’t say the word out loud. And it was increasingly frustrating you.

Steve was still looking at you, and you could tell he was trying to put an end on the sentence that you’d left open. You wondered what conclusions he was drawing, and hoped that the one you’d wanted to give it was at the forefront of his mind.

“- because I’m concerned,” you finished it, weakly. “I’m concerned, and I… I want to help. Let me.”

Steve did not respond at first. You watched him, studying his face, trying to predict if he would agree without you having to argue your point further, which would only make things more difficult, or if he was going to resist your help.

“Only as a last resort, if nothing else helps?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Only as a last resort,” you promised.

He met your eyes. “Okay,” he said, and you relaxed, before offering him a grateful smile.

“Thank you. I’ll get some things for tonight, and we’ll see what works best,” you said, and then you focused your attention on finishing your breakfast. After a moment, you heard Steve do the same.

You knew there was really no point in keeping the fact that you were giving helping Steve sleep a try, but nonetheless, you did not go looking for resources through SHIELD. Instead, you went out and bought things on your own. A sound machine was more difficult to find than incense sticks that let off the smell of chamomile and lavender, but you eventually found one at a electronics store that was filled with oddments of all kinds.

You also did some research into techniques that people could do themselves, without external help. They involved breathing patterns, and different sleep positions. The biggest thing, according to the internet, was to not get up. Movement cause the brain to think that it was time to remain awake for the day, which was not something that you wanted to happen if you were attempting to get more sleep.

Later on in the afternoon, after you’d returned to Steve’s apartment with your purchased items and your new knowledge in the ways of sleep, you told him these tips, and showed him how to switch the sound machine on. Once plugged into the wall, it emitted white noise, which was reminiscent of the static that he’d listened to on the radio.

Steve eyed the machine curiously, but not without distaste. “I don’t know,” he said after a moment, looking at you. “I think the point should be to remove reminders of the things causing me nightmares.” He gestured to the sound machine. “Static is what happened once the radio went out, while I was talking to Peggy for the last time on the jet.”

“The point of the sound is to give you something to focus on that isn’t the thing that woke you up,” you explained to him. “We’ll just… give it a shot, for a few nights, and if you decide it only makes things worse, then we’ll rule it out, okay?”

He nodded, but he did not look happy. You turned the machine off, and then nodded to the incense burner and sticks that you’d bought as well. “Those might work best for you. The smell of lavender has been proven to help relax the mind and body, and to help people sleep more deeply. Chamomile is usually drank as a type of tea, but since you’re not supposed to get out of bed, the smell has similar effects as drinking it. It helps create contentment and warmth.”

Steve picked up one of the lavender scented sticks and sniffed it. After a moment, he glanced sideways at you. “You wear a perfume that smells like this,” he said, and you felt a blush form on the back of your neck, slowly working its way up to your ears and cheeks.

“Sometimes, yeah,” you agreed. “I’ve always liked the smell of it.” Steve set the incense stick back down. “If neither of these work, we can find different ones; there’s plenty that are meant to do the same things.”

“I’m sure these will be fine,” he said, and he gestured to the incense burner itself. “How does it work?”

“It’s designed to make sure that heat doesn’t spread,” you told him. “All you have to do is light the coated end of the stick with a match or a lighter, and then you stick it in these holes.” You tapped the burner. “Don’t light more than two at a time; the combination of lavender and chamomile should be strong enough without there needing to be multiples of each.”

Steve nodded. “Okay.” He stared at the incense for a moment, and then he glanced at you. “So, breathing, staying still, smells, and sound. That’s all?”

You nodded. “The hope is that at least one of these things works for you. It’s up to you if you want to try them all at once, or if you want to try them one at a time, a combination of two or three… whatever. Just test it out, try to find what works best. If nothing works, well… we’ll figure something else out.” You poked him in the shoulder. “But no more middle of the night working out.”

He smiled. “No more working out in the middle of the night,” he repeated. “Can we do something fun, now?”

You chuckled. “Yes, we can do something fun.”

“Good,” he said, and then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. He held them up for you to see. “It’s been a long time since I was able to play a good game of cards with somebody.”

“It was always going to end in card games,” you sighed under your breath, but followed him back out into the living room. He was cooperating when it came to the sleeping devices; you would cooperate with his forms of entertainment.

At least, until you started to lose. Nobody would be having fun if you started to lose.

#drabble #steve rogers drabble #marvel drabble #step by step #writing #steve rogers #marvel #steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers #history has its eyes on queue

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bamon4bamily · 3 years

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TVD 9x18 - My Winter Song (part 2) Enjoy! =)

Cut to – A private jet. Pietro is having a bourbon and reading. Suddenly, loud sounds start coming from the main bedroom. He smirks.

PIETRO: Sounds like someone is finally awake… (He snaps his fingers and a Flight Attendant approaches him). Room service is required in the chamber.

FLIGHT ATTENDANT: Of course, Sir. Will they be having salmon, beef, or vegetarian?

PIETRO: I think it’s best you ask yourself. Walk right in, no need to knock.

FLIGHT ATTENDANT: Yes, Sir. (He goes into the room, horrible screams are heard, then absolute silence).

PIETRO: Guess she chose beef… (soon after, a blood-stained Sage comes out of the room. She looks confused, and very pissed off. She immediately vamps to fight Pietro; he easily holds her back). There, there… Calm down. Play with fire, you get burned. What else did you expect, my love?

SAGE: For you to kill me, not turn me into one of you!

PIETRO: I assumed you would be delighted. You are quite obsessed with my kind… All I wanted was to give you an opportunity to make the right decisions. I chose you for a reason, and I must say, it broke my heart that you betrayed my trust.

SAGE: I had no choice. What you are doing is wrong.

PIETRO: (Smirks) I thought you liked to be on the dangerous side. I gave you everything you needed to become a legend; a place at a table to play with the big boys. And this is how you repay me? Naughty, naughty. Then again, I guess I brought this on myself; I should have never trusted a Luxford.

SAGE: Why didn’t you just kill me? Why risk it?

PIETRO: Because I like to play games. And I am a firm believer of second chances. So, I’m going to give you a choice. Tell me everything you know, everyone who is involved, and we’ll call it truce. Or, I can just kill you, for good this time.

SAGE: You won’t… You need something from me, otherwise you would have killed me without hesitation. I know you better than you think. Your little “second chance” bullshit is just a desperate attempt at making me believe you have the upper hand. (Sarcastic) You see, my love, I also like to play games (winks).

PIETRO: Is it wrong that I want to tear your clothes off, and pin you down against the floor?

SAGE: Just as wrong as me wanting you to do it…

(he vamps her to the floor, pins her arms above her head with one hand, pulls her skirt up with the other…).

PIETRO: (Whispers) If you think it was great before, you are in for quite a ride… (they have vamp sex in every single corner of the jet, for practically the entire flight).

Cut to – The Salvatore mansion. Damon and Stefan are still in the living room going through the files.

STEFAN: I still can’t wrap my head around this…

DAMON: Neither can I… (Takes a handful of papers from the file) What are these?

STEFAN: (Takes some and looks through them) They look like badly scanned diary entries to me…

DAMON: What is it with vampires and diaries?!

STEFAN: Take a look at this… (Shows him one of the entries) Seems like Pietro turned in 1895, after he had a kid, Alexander. They abandoned him, no surprise there. And the “mystery lady”, was called Isabella. Apparently, she took her own life…

Boston, November 3rd, 1895

This newfound power of mine is exhilarating, but the hunger can take over any rational thought with such ease… I despair at times not being able to fulfill my lust. I reckon it was best for us to leave the child behind. Although, I worry for Isabella. As each day passes without holding Alexander in her arms, she falls deeper into a dismal of silence. She has become cold and distant. I fear she will attempt to stake herself. She has threatened me with this nonsense a few times now. I pray she comes to her senses, and my old Isabella comes back to me…

DAMON: Dark…

STEFAN: A clear Salvatore trait. (They keep reading more entries).

DAMON: This one is interesting… Looks like you met our little brother before… Back in your 20’s ripper days. You just don’t remember…

Paris, November 25th, 1921

Of all the oddities I have encountered over the years, I must say, today I found the uncanniest one. I had heard about his existence; he was a legend amongst our kind. The one and only, Ripper of Monterrey. My own flesh and blood… I have now seen, with my own eyes, the mastery of his work. That was a Thanksgiving I shall never forget. He and Mr. Mikaelson make for an impressive duet. I am not an easy one to scare, but I will admit, seeing The Ripper at his best, sent chills down my spine. It saddens me that he will not remember who I am, we had a lovely chat. We are very much akin … I would have loved the opportunity to get to know him better. Who knows, maybe someday, I will. I have also found that he is not the only one. The other is older, and judging from the Ripper’s own words, he is quite the pathetic clutter. I will have to be the judge of that, if I ever encounter him along the way…

STEFAN: It figures he would run with the same crowd as the Ripper…

DAMON: Stefan, that was a long time ago, you are not that person anymore. Just like I’m not “quite the pathetic clutter” anymore either.

STEFAN: Sorry about that, I really hated you back then. You were a dick.

DAMON: (Teasing) Yeah, well, clearly so were you! (They laugh and continue reading through different entries).

STEFAN: Here’s another interesting one…

New York City, October 30th, 1896

I will be departing for Ireland tomorrow. Veritas and Aletheia seem to have finally located the talented Scientist we have been searching for so long; a direct descendant of the Liberatus founders. The mastermind behind the immortality serum, a very gifted psychic-witch; or so I hear. A long journey awaits, let us hope it is worth the travel.

DAMON: It figures he would run with the same crowd as Dr. Strange…

(they continue to read more entries).

STEFAN: Apparently, you have met our lovely brother too. Back in your 80’s extravaganza days; you just didn’t know…

New York City, August 29th, 1985

I can now attest that my older brother is in fact a pathetic clutter, just as The Ripper had warned me so many years ago. A brief encounter at a cheap nightclub was sufficient to judge. There are some physical resemblances between us. However, it is clear my wits came from my mother’s side. This man is obnoxious and egocentric; at least The Ripper has instinct and class. I must admit, I sometimes feel tempted to reveal myself, if only for the pleasure of seeing their faces invaded with shock. Then again, if they would be even the slightest bit curious, and not so self-absorbed, maybe they would have found out about me on their own… But, who cares? They are nothing more than shared blood.

DAMON: Like father, like son…

STEFAN: Hey, don’t let him get to you. We both have been dicks from time to time, but he surely takes the gold.

DAMON: No doubt.

STEFAN: This is a weird one…

Munich, December 21st, 1999

There might be hope for my dear friend Augustus, after all. Darius’s serum seems to have worked, despite him being a human. Only time will tell how efficient the serum really is… For now, he is blessed to be alive, and because his son Edward survived the sacrifice. They call him the miracle child, and from the brutality of the attack, it was certainly a rarity that he survived. I had the opportunity to meet him, and I must say, he truly is quite extraordinary. Perhaps, he is the one?

DAMON: Okay, I’m definitely seeing a lot of patterns here.

STEFAN: Looks like Elena’s friend chose these specific entries for a reason…

Munich, April 23rd, 2009

Although I am a great admirer of Dr. Gilbert’s work, he is testing my patience. I have given him unlimited funding, exclusive access to the laboratory, luxurious dining, and lodge. How complicated can creating this formula be? Darius would have done it by now, but to our misfortune, he is unreachable at the moment. It does strike me as strange; Dr. Gilbert has always delivered in time and form. It’s almost as if he were intentionally trying to fail… I sure hope that is not the case. He has a couple of weeks before he returns home. Until then, I have no choice but to trust he will prevail.

DAMON: Wasn’t this a couple of months before Elena’s parents died?

STEFAN: Exactly one month before… And this next entry, pretty much verifies it was no accident…

Munich, May 24th, 2009

As I intuited, Dr. Gilbert failed us. Augustus has taken care of that… It saddens me, but I did give him a fair warning. We will be transferring this particular project to Augustus’s facility; he does have some very impressive technology. In the meantime, Darius seems to have finally come out of hiding; and has proposed an alternative. Sounds a bit out there, but if it gets the job done, it’s fine by me. On a different matter, I am starting to sense some tension amongst the order. On one side, Augustus insists technology is our greatest weapon. On the other, Darius assures the answer is this “mystical energy source”, which is yet to be found . Whichever it may be, let’s just hope it’s the right one…

DAMON: These things are all connected. I think we can say these whack jobs are part, or were part, of that freak cult at some point.

STEFAN: And, with Darius out of the picture, I’m betting this Augustus guy took the leadership.

DAMON: Given our modern times, technology can definitely be a very dangerous weapon.

STEFAN: Serums seem to be a big thing with them too. What do you think their game play is? I mean, they failed to use the source as a weapon, thanks to Bonnie. You’d figure they’d be on to plan B; but they have been awfully quiet.

DAMON: The quiet before the storm?

STEFAN: One thing is clear, serum, source, or tech, they are looking for some sort of weapon, question is, what for?

DAMON: For the same reason anyone uses a weapon, stir some shit up.

STEFAN: Obviously, Damon. But what’s the target? What’s the end goal?

DAMON: (Sarcastic) World domination, power, money, just for fun? Who cares at this point? All we have are a bunch of names, nothing to go on…

STEFAN: Well, either we temporarily bring Darius out of his time out, so he can tell us himself, which is clearly not an option. Or we head to Germany and have ourselves a family reunion.

DAMON: I hope you’re joking…

STEFAN: Maybe we are being paranoid. I mean, nothing has happened after Bonnie put Darius out. I’m sure our little brother is an asshole, but that doesn’t necessarily mean there is this Machiavellian plan behind it all.

DAMON: Maybe… but I find it incredibly improbable that our ex-girlfriend, who just happens to come from the Petrova bloodline, and is Grayson’s daughter, randomly ended up attending our half-brother’s Medical program, on the other side of the Atlantic ocean.

STEFAN: Yeah, there is no way that’s a coincidence. So, what’s the plan?

DAMON:… Didn’t Edward say his father’s name is Augustus? The entry clearly says Augustus’ miracle kid is called Edward…

STEFAN: What would be the odds?

DAMON: Brother, do we even have to ask that question anymore? And, we can’t deny it’s very possible that his family would be part of a cult. When Danae told Bonnie and me about the Liberatus, she mentioned there were other families involved. She didn’t know which ones, but the Powell’s sure fit the profile.

STEFAN: Old money WASPS, Harvard elitists… makes sense.

DAMON: I think we should pay “the miracle child” a visit tomorrow.

STEFAN: We need to tell Caroline and Bonnie about this.

DAMON: Why don’t we wait until we talk to him first. For now, let’s read the rest of this stuff, maybe we can get more answers.

Cut to – The Powell mansion. The Madame, still holding Edward’s head. Her eyes have turned completely black, tears rolling down her cheeks, blood coming out her nose.

Suddenly, she drops to the ground; unconscious. Seconds later, Edward also drops.

They lay there for some time, until The Madame finally regains consciousness. As soon as she sees Edward, she tries to wake him up, no response. Gives him her blood, no response. She desperately screams for help; Anthony quickly comes to their aid.

ANTHONY: What in god’s name is happening here?!

THE MADAME: (Crying desperately, trying to wake Edward up) I don’t know! I was trying to read his mind at his request, and everything suddenly went dark…

ANTHONY: (Rushes to Edward) He is going into cardiac arrest! (He starts to perform CPR).

THE MADAME: (Now hysterical) I knew we shouldn’t have done this! This is all my fault!

ANTHONY: Madame, give him your blood, fast!

THE MADAME: I already tried; it won’t work!

ANTHONY: (Keeps trying CPR, looks at her with contempt ) Why on earth would you concede to this, knowing what his mind has been through!

THE MADAME: I was only trying to help him…

ANTHONY: You know I hold you dear to my heart, but if anything happens to my boy, I will prove to you just how cruel humans can be…

(he keeps trying to resuscitate him).

THE MADAME: I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…

ANTHONY: Don’t just stand there! Make yourself useful and call an ambulance! (Someone walks in).

TAMARA: That won’t be necessary… I left you one job, and you both failed. I am very disappointed. I will take it from here…

Cut to - The next morning, Bonnie is working on her herb garden, Abby shows up.

ABBY: It’s beautiful… You have a way with herbs.

BONNIE: (Turns around) Runs in the family, I suppose.

ABBY: It sure does. Although I have to say, La Bruja had a lot to do with that.

BONNIE: You know about her?

ABBY: Of course I do. She is my stepmom…

BONNIE: What are you doing here?

ABBY: I just came to say goodbye, and give you this… (hands her a letter).

BONNIE: (To herself) What is it with me and letters…

ABBY: I know you don’t owe me anything, and I don’t want to upset you any more than I already have. I just hope you find it in your heart to read it someday.

BONNIE: Where are you off to now?

ABBY: Klaus and I are going back to New Orleans. Figured since you don’t want anything to do with me, I have nothing to stick around for.

BONNIE: Running away, as usual…Why am I not surprised?

ABBY: I am not running away, Bonnie. I am respecting your wishes.

BONNIE: Really? How big of you… Leave it to Abby to justify her actions by blaming someone else.

ABBY: Leave it to Bonnie to be so proud she won’t even bother to find out why…

BONNIE: Oh, no you didn’t! Are you kidding me? How selfish can you be!

ABBY: Very. But I have changed, and if you read the letter, you will understand.

BONNIE: (Clearly upset) Uhm, okay! If that’s all it takes, I’ll read it right now! (She rips open the envelope and starts to read, expecting to find the same bullshit excuses she has given her before. Challenging her, she begins to read it out loud, until she gets to the second paragraph… Then, silence. She continues to read, tears soon start to roll down…After she finishes reading, she looks deep into her mother’s eyes) Why didn’t you tell me?

ABBY: Because I didn’t know how… (Bonnie drops the letter, stands up and hugs her).

BONNIE: No one should ever have to go through something like that… I’m sorry I was so stubborn not to even hear you out.

ABBY: I’m sorry I was so selfish to leave, and not even try. Think there is the slimmest chance we can give it another chance?

BONNIE: If I found it in myself to try, with people that might not even deserve the benefit of the doubt, I sure as hell can do it with my own mom! (They hug and cry). Don’t go back…

ABBY: If you are okay with me being here, I won’t.

BONNIE: So much, in fact, that I want you and Klaus to come over for Christmas night.

ABBY: Really?

BONNIE: (Teasing) Well, maybe not Klaus. That “thing” you two have going on still freaks me out. But I’m willing to give it a shot, as long as I don’t have to call him stepdad! (They laugh and hug).

ABBY: I’m sorry for everything I have put you through. I love you Bonnie, like you have no idea…

BONNIE: I love you too, mom.

Cut to - Damon and Stefan at the Powell mansion. They ring the bell, no answer.

DAMON: That’s odd… Anthony never takes more than a second to open the door…

STEFAN: Seems awfully quiet, maybe they went out?

DAMON: Edward has more than an army of employees. There has to be at least one on site. (Shortly after, a woman opens the door).

TAMARA: Hello, gentleman, may I help you?

STEFAN: We are looking for the Mayor, is he around?

TAMARA: I’m sorry, dears, you just missed him. He is out for the moment.

DAMON: Are the Madame or Anthony around?

TAMARA: No. They went with him. Is there anything I can help you with?

STEFAN: Do you know around what time they will be back?

TAMARA: No, but you can try to reach him on his cellphone.

DAMON: We already tried; he’s not picking up.

TAMARA: Maybe he is caught up with something.

STEFAN: Can you let him know we are looking for him?

TAMARA: That, I most definitely can do.

STEFAN: Thank you.

TAMARA: Nothing to thank me for, dears. I will let him know you stopped by. Happy holidays, gentleman (closes the door).

DAMON: (As they are walking away) She was a bit creepy…

STEFAN: Very, but hot.

DAMON: Totally hot.

STEFAN: So, what now?

DAMON: Guess we’ll have to wait till after the holidays. These are always complicated times, especially if you are the City Mayor. We can keep trying him on his cell, but in the meantime, we have some planning of our own.

STEFAN: Our Thanksgiving bird may have been a fiasco, and don’t tell Caroline I told you this, but that was totally her fault. We need to step up our game for Christmas.

DAMON: Brother, I’m already one step ahead. We got this (winks).

Cut to – Munich, Germany. Sage’s room. Elena, Sam, and Alex are checking to see if they find anything out of place.

SAM: Well, everything looks normal to me.

ALEX: Maybe to you, but you don’t know Sage as well as I do. There is no way she would hang her lab coat in her closet. She always, and I mean, always, leaves it on her chair back…

And, she never leaves anything in her pockets… (takes out a usb device from her lab coat).

SAM: Alex, man, you know I love you. But the fact that you know that is freaky as fuck!

ELENA: (As she searches, stumbles upon something) I don’t know her well at all, but… (shows them Sage’s passport). Figure if you are going to fly international, you’d take your passport with you…

(Suddenly, the lights go out. Soon after, a PA announcement).

PA VOICE: Attention, students. We have gone into state of emergency. All communication and electrical systems are out. A full lockdown is now in place. No one is to leave the premises until further notice. We urge you to remain calm and comply with the protocols. The military shall be arriving shortly to provide aid. We will keep you informed. Looks like it’s going to be a dark winter…

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TVD 9x19 - Under The Mistletoe. Coming up next! Hope you stop by, read, and enjoy! =)

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