#that plus also does working in that field actually do any good i guess

[sleepsucks]

#03.02.23 #3253 #'ethical utility of working in animation' i think i wasthinking back to how when i was studying animation we had chats about like #isnt it wasteful to have a ton of computers running to render high detailed animation or whatever ; #that plus also does working in that field actually do any good i guess #unnecessary doubts because there's definitely definitely stuff a lot more harmful c'mon #ma

[ieatsmallorphansnamedtom]

Everyone asked about other bachelors falling in love, I am waiting for someone to ask how will it be if it's Alex because I love him. But I guess it will still be some while till someone actually ask knowing how he is, so I'll step forward & humbly send my request to you~! Thank you for writing all these headcanons. They are very lovely to read! I love how it enrichen my vision of them. ｡･✰

Alex Falling in Love with the Farmer Headcanons

Hi anon! Sorry if this took too long. I was also waiting for someone to ask for him lol. He's a great bachelor! :D

As I'm fairly certain it's stated in his ten heart cutscene, Alex liked you from the start. He was somewhat aware of it; he did notice he took a physical liking to you, but always assumed it would leave with time. You two just hung out as friends for a while.

It only hit him smack in the face that day he told you about his mother. All of a sudden, it's 'wait, why am I even telling them this?', followed by, 'oh-'. He's sort of just... awkward about it all. Like 'yup. Alright. This is happening.'

After you leave, he goes straight to his grandparents. I mean, they've been together so long, they must know something to help him! He tries to be vague about it, but it comes through anyway. He thinks he's mastered the art of disguise while not-so-subtly dropping in hints like farming every two sentences.

He's quieter, but somehow also manages to show off even more. If that makes any sense. He likes to hear you talk. With his whole backstory thing going on I imagine he's got a lot on his mind, so it's nice to just take a break. Plus, you've always got great stories to tell.

As for the showing off, well... it can be insufferable. He manages to get a bit too in your face at times, but he only means the best. You bet he'll be waiting outside your door at six in the morning ready to do whatever heavy lifting you need. You may or may not use this to your advantage to make him clean up the animal poop.

His feelings for you are fairly obvious. Long stares from across the field, arms over the shoulder - all that stuff. He also gives you lots of compliments. He knows what it's like to be called worthless (and I assume have low self-esteem from it) and he doesn't want you to end up that way. He can tell whenever you're down and goes to lift you back up as best he can.

"Hey farmer! Your farm's looking great. I heard you were feeling down lately, wanna talk about it?"

You get a TON of Evelyn's baked goods. Mostly biscuits, of course, but sometimes you get shortbread or muffins or even a slice of cake! Alex tries his hand at cooking too. He wants to get better to impress you (and his grandmother).

George is super proud. Finally, his (to be honest: quite lonely) grandson is getting a proper friendship (not to throw shade on Haley, but before the farmer moves in, she's not really friendship material)! Evelyn is a bit more clueless to the whole romance thing going on between you two, but once George fills her in on it, she gets to work inviting you over almost every night for dinner.

Speaking of the grandparents trying to get you two closer, Evelyn has randomly mentioned Alex being single. She means no harm, but it's very obvious she's trying to nudge you two together. It's cute, though. And you get a ton of free food whenever she does.

"Oh, hello dear. I just finished making these with Alex," (she did not, in fact, make them with Alex), "we were just talking about any future relationships he might get into."

^ Poor Alex is left dying in the corner.

Alex actually gets a lot more insecure. He's just nervous about messing up in front of you. He doesn't want to risk losing another person he loves. Just seeing you makes his heart all fuzzy - it's crazy.

-~-~-

I hope you liked this, anon! I think Alex is great. He was my first choice when I started my first save file. Sorry if this took a little too long, but I'm glad I got around to it.

#ieatsmallorphansnamedtom #sdv #stardew valley #sdv alex #stardew valley alex #sdv alex x reader #stardew valley alex x reader #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #alex sdv #alex stardew #stardew alex #sdv evelyn #stardew valley evelyn #sdv george #stardew valley george

[adobe-outdesign]

geodude line review pls plus the alolan forms

Geodude is a rock with a face and arms. Which is great if you like rocks with faces and arms. It's not my favorite rock creature (I'm more of a Roggenrola person myself), but it is simple and straightforward, and the concept of a boulder creature that rolls around to move is pretty fun. Not much to talk about visually, other than it being a very low-contrast design. Also, I like the segmented mouth.

Graveler always seemed like just a better Geodude to me. It's the same premise—monotone boulder creature that rolls around with a face and arms—but they do an interesting thing by making the face smaller, adding a ridged, craggy area above said face, and giving it not one, but two sets of extra limbs. It adds a lot of interest and fleshes out the premise while not really changing anything too drastically. Surely the next evolution will be even better, right?

Nope, never mind.

I mean, I don't hate Golem—the reptilian features are interesting and provide a unique twist on the basic rock monster model, and hey, it's at least unique. But it does undeniably come out of the left field, sporting a higher-contrast body, a separate head and limbs, and reducing the number of said limbs down to four.

I've heard a lot of speculation as to why, but most of it is just that, baseless speculation. The most likely reason is that it's a Blastoise situation, wherein two separate rock creatures got merged early in development to avoid repetition. Regardless, that doesn't make it work any better with the rest of the line.

Also, as a design itself, I can't help but not like it as much as Graveler anyway. The head makes it impossible to roll despite the 'dex claiming otherwise, and the overall design is just less coherent. Like I said, the reptilian parts are interesting, but that's about all it has going for it.

Alolan Geodude is actually pretty solid. It drops the rock/ground typing (which I always found confusing anyway; what about the original justified it being ground?) in favor of rock/electric, represented by adding some magnetic shavings to the body.

These shavings really help the design, mostly because they greatly increase the contrast and help break things up without over-complicating anything. Those big 'ol black eyebrows just feel right, and the addition of "hair" is fun.

In addition, this design also makes the body more of a gray color (once again, fits with the dropped ground typing) and reduces the hands down to two mitten-like structures, which does feel good given the shape of the body. Overall, a solid improvement across the board.

Unfortunately, things go downhill a bit when we get to A. Graveler. The eyebrows still look great, and I like the little shavings that accent the head ridge as well. It still retains the similar mitten-like hands, the shape of which now really compliment said head ridge.

However, it randomly adds these yellowish-orange crystals all over its body, which I just do not get. They compete too much with the shavings, and they feel like an afterthought. I guess the idea was to add more color to the design? But they already fixed the low-contrast issue with the shavings. Maybe they wanted yellow to hint at the electric-typing more? Who knows. Either way, the design would look much better without them.

Also, for some reason it goes back to a brownish color instead of retaining the cooler gray of A. Geodude. Why? The gray not only looked better, but further helped with the contrast, and dropping it just reduces the line's coherency.

And A. Golem... yeah no, never mind.

The shavings have progressed from body hair to a straight-up beard, which is fine, I guess, though something about the body hair kind of worked; maybe it's just because it added to the "strength" idea with Graveler's bare arms, whereas the beard just feels random.

However, the beard wouldn't be too bad in and of itself... except they also added a giant rail gun to its back. It's just like, what? Why?? Where did that come from? I know that it's electric-type, but there was no thematic build-up to this (unless you count the inside yellow crystals from Graveler). It competes way too much with the beard, and makes the overall concept harder to disconcern.

Also, even putting that aside, the colors are really muddied here (still retaining the brownish color while using three different shades of gray/brown, none of which are high enough contrast), and it has these really weird baby arms. The simplified toes look good at least, and I do like the extra definition added to the face with the eyebrow ridges, but this really does not work as a whole. Which is a shame, because A. Geodude was a fantastic start.

As a whole, the original line is simple but effective, bogged down only by the sharp turn into Golem. The Alolan line starts off strong and tries to improve the design a bit, but unfortunately gets bogged down with too many details as it goes on.

#geodude #graveler #golem #pokemon #pokemon reviews #alolan geodude #alolan graveler #alolan golem

[77pupu33pipo]

so sorry feel free to skip, big rant ahead.. but good ending :)

i really hope i can get free university tuition for the next year.. there are two vacant positions atm and i think i have a great chance of getting one.. i enrolled last year with 50% discount based on exam results but this discount is only kept if you stay high enough in student ratings and it kept me awake at night throughout the year and feeling guilty, and the workload was completely draining, and i was physically unwell and um. 0 friends and so i had a complete mental breakdown at the end of the year + a failed class and no year-end thesis which meant i needed an individual plan for the next year which meant no discount AND additional pay for extra courses. Decided to drop out, but instead re-enrolled in the same program for the second time to preserve 50% exam discount which is still appliable. Asked for credit recovery for all of the courses i actually completed last year and bless the faculty office because they agreed and spent this year taking my sweet time recovering and attending uni 3 times a week for language classes and thesis. And funny thing is i did pretty well last year. But complete burn out and absolutely shattered mental health, i really couldnt do it anymore. and i don't think ive recovered from it completely, i now resent the thought of any kind of confrontation or trying hard at something or taking an additional interest in something because that just means more work and thought. none of it pays off. i now give up when met with the smallest inconvenience and pushing through with anything is too much. i played The Sims Fucking 3 University one time and got so anxious and mad because the memory was painful. And i dont even remember the stuff that happened during last year that well at all, its all a complete haze, like it never even happened, but somehow still had its consequences. but like pretty much everyone was going through the same stuff in the same circumstances, but i didnt see anyone else struggling that much so i ended up thinking i am a wimp just wasting our and others' time and money and didnt complain or express my worries to anyone. i didnt exactly have anyone to express them to but well....

on the bright side i think I have succeeded in developing a "fuck-all" mentality in the last year and i hope to utilize it next time i am met with the same workload. Plus my groupmates this year round are amazing. i struggle to form close friendships or acquaintences, but they are all very nice and sweet and supportive of one another, its really nothing ive ever seen of classmates or colleagues. And i also think i have made good progress in learning Finnish and have regained just a bit of my passion for linguistics, i wouldnt want to resent the field forever because if it comes to academics i dont think im suited for anything else. my mother has been nagging me about taking what is essentially a gap year, and saying i was making stuff up when i told her about my decision and that ive been really struggling for the past year, even though i was just wailing at the time. But its alright i guess, i don't take it to close to heart, although it does make me so mad sometimes.

im better off now, but im still so scared of plunging back into all that anxiety, restlessness, exhaustion, competition and feelings of stupidity and inferiority. I have mostly dealt with the last two, but i dont think i will be able to take the stress if it is the same as last year. If i stay on paid tuition, then i have to continue securing my discount. And that means extra work in every subject, because you can't get max and pre-max grade by just completing the course perfectly, you're required to do extra work for the last two marks. I realize and understand that this is a common system, but jesus fucking christ i want to be able to choose not to do so and still continue studying like normal, not be handicapped in learning stuff i actually have to learn in other subjects because of useless shit i need to waste my time on for that sweet sweet 9 or 10. and you're competing both with people like you on paid tuition AND with people on free tuition who have some issues i think as the difference between mark 8 and mark 10 is only seen in the student rating and not recorded in the diploma, and the student rating does not mean jack shit if you're on free tuition, literally no one cares for it outside of calculating discounts and transfering from paid to free tuition. I don't want to think badly of those on free tuition who choose to compete in the system, but i believe i have become too senstitive about this topic. I want to bonk them with a cardboard tube to make them change their minds and see the appeal of being free to fuck all when it comes to grades and just do what they actually enjoy in the academics field or on the side, but that doesnt happen.

and so i have a pretty good chance of getting on free tuition with my current grades. I worked my ass off last year with most of the courses, and i got a "great" on both language classes and thesis this year. As far as i know, im first in rating among those on paid tuition. im sending mind control waves to faculty so that they give me that free tuition. i promise i will get worse grades on purpose so that people who are still stuck in clinging to discount hell have a bit of an easier time. i'll read papers for fun and find joy in learning new things again. i will do minimum wage monotone work needed for dictionaries or corpora like all the cool kids. Fuck it, i will do some afterclass activities now that ill be able to afford to spend my free time on random shit. ill attend historical dance meetings regularly, its really fun. ill make some friends even. just PLEASE give me the free tuition. if i don't, i will sigh deeply and continue trying to grind, but ill be upset.

maybe i need to stop whining and just go on with it like everybody did, but pleaseeeeeee. I think i worked hard. I completed every assignment without taking a look at how much it weighed in the grade formula. I helped fellow students when they struggled with something. I had almost perfect attendance. THIS stupid thing will change my life, stupid thing being free tuition. i cant afford to not get a mind boggling cool education, my family will execute me. Please just let me get my stupid little linguistics degree (i mean it includes programming and maths so.) and go on with my life... ...

[notallwonder]

...here we go... Criminal Minds 16x07 "What Doesn't Kill Us", directed by the lovely Aisha Tyler. I've been looking forward to this (at my own peril)!

Spoilers + nonsense under the cut...

oh I love this stupid show

I also love PB's voice in the previouslies (and in anything)

lol "SOMEWHERE IN WEST VIRGINIA"

oh nightmare. these types of buried alive plots always give me the heebie jeebies

dafuq? is she like in the air ducts? dafuq? screaming? eeep

WTAF IS GOING ON - so this crimey part has me hooked

HELLO HOTTIE!!! *waves*

oh..."a development"...

Attorney General time! pls be CCH Pounder pls pls

"after being assaulted, drugged, and killed in the line of duty, what's the worst that could happen?" LOOOLLLLL

okay, not CCH Pounder but still an authoritative Black woman as Attorney General

Aw, Dave. capisce?

Okay. First of all. AG calls our resident hottie by her first name. I am inclined to believe this means maybe they have some prior acquaintance, or the AG makes a point of knowing her people well (plus Emily is Bigfoot LegendaryTM). Secondly...Prentiss, really putting yourself on the line here offering your resignation! And Dougie boy backs her up, for the first time ever.

AG is right they have been getting tunnel vision. But also - they just had 2 agents blown up on the Sicarius case. Seems...appropriate to focus on it. ANyway

omg Emily's face - hilARIOUS expression. must rewatch 5 times.

(this feels like the episode that PB tweeted about shooting a while back, where she had to run around with a gun in a hospital in high heels)

return of awful expositional dialogue. my fav

WE'RE NOT SHORTHANDED EMILY??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN? IS SOMEONE ELSE HEEEEEREEE?

(I paused it here to cross my fingers for Agent Jordan Todd)

oh boohoo that was a waste of pausing. so we've conscripted Mr. Noodle. But like...does he have any investigative skills? I thought we agreed he was a hedge fund manager with a badge...I mean I know that was just a put down but...

Powerpoint Presentation Ken Doll Director Bailey is not the humor I wanted or needed. (Prentiss' sidelong glance at Rossi is a teeny bit funny)

Hmmmmm. Emily throws Noodle a bone, asking him to keep tabs on missing persons reports. A little thaw between them, since he's shown himself to be more on her side. I approve. BUT it makes me a teensy bit nervous that they might eventually smush these two characters together in a non-platonic sorta way. Hoping not.

Aw, the family that jokes about murder together...ruh roh.

"real reason" - did Elias kill his parents?

Aw, the family that fantasizes about murder together...ruh roh.

Luke is lookin' FOIN in that leather jacket this ep

"double boss" lol yes

Ok, may I just say, thank you to wardrobe for putting Prentiss in something other than those super wide-leg slacks once again? The wide-leg slacks looked great, don't get me wrong. But they're a different vibe (and I guess not as good for field work as jeans/skinny whatevers) (although we all know CARGO PANTS would be better for field work!! PLEASE UNIVERSE GIVE ME BACK THE CARGO PANTS)

And here we have a perfectly serviceable conversation among the BAU ladies (minus Tara) (plus a noodle). Yes, it's case-related. I still hope for an actual conversation between JJ and Emily that has something to do with not murder. But the vibes of this convo are great - upbeat, well-oiled machine and all that. Doesn't feel weird to me at all.

OKAYYYYYYY AHAHAHAA this scene!! I love it! *heart eyes emoji* Angry Emily! Emily & Garcia rapport! Garcia is funny but also came to her senses (SORT OF)!! Consequences! But yeah, that could be majorly problematic in a prosecution.

It feels like Noodle is working on his investigative Boy Scout badge. ...what, was he inspired by watching Emily's performance?

WAIT A SECOND. There was a jemily GLANCE!!! hallelujah, my lowest bar dreams have come TRUE!!! *dancing in the streets*

I still don't know quite what to make of Dougie Noodle's transformation into a sympathetic (?) ally... but I'm not alone in that, as evidenced by that glance between JJ and Emily. (y'all they did it! they did it! they glanced!)

the crimey wimey part is CREEPIN ME OUT BIG TIME

sigh of relief, Moose's owner is NOT dead! lucky girl.

this is an episode in which our heroes talk to each other, and I am here for it! Penelope supporting Tara. And then promptly fucking up her own life choices. Oh, babygirl. :)

Ugh Doug NOodle, that was SO CHEESY. "An FBI agent once told me..." I was ALMOST starting to like you.

Funny how they write the university admin guy objecting to sending personnel records to the FBI as a "liability issue" and not on the grounds that it's essentially a huge fishing expedition by the FBI from which the university might be inclined to protect its employees and students (lol, in a world different from the one in which we live).

ruh roh...Sicarius seems to be hurtling toward a break, a... devolution if you will

creepy fairy lights in the air duct, awesome, hate it. aw man this is fucked up. oh jesus that is way more than a lil cat-o-nine tails my god

this scene with Tara and Moose Girl is like...awkward. And sweet. Reminds me of my religious days lmao.

C'mon Penelope! Do the mature thing! OR, do the not mature thing! Pen's character development post-BAU strikes me as kind of a delayed adolescence. She's leaning into being more assertive and impulsive (and prioritizing her own pleasure). So it's perfectly understandable that she doesn't *want* to end things with Tyler. But girl, the investigation is on the line and that's a pretty big deal. What are you gonna do? (She does the right thing)

Yeah, Voit is LOSING IT. He obviously cares about his family but like... push comes to shove he's gonna kill them.

this girl Grace is METAL. it's nice to see the victims fighting back more effectively

Doug Noodle in a polo shirt? Now Kevlar??

(side note: Hogan's Alley reminiscing makes me think of Derek Morgan, of course. "out there, in the field, sorry doesn't bring people back!")

cringey feeling: WHAT ARE THEY DOING WITH PRENTISS AND BAILEY. are they becoming friends. okay that's a little cute. I just...I have trust issues, lol.

hohoHO "Come and get it, motherfucker." I felt that

actually I think it says a lot that Prentiss would go into a dangerous situation with Noodle on her six. She trusts him more than she did (or she'd rather he be her liability and no one else's?). And...where's JJ? Rossi and Luke went to other location, is JJ part of the backup? Oh JJ was sent to find the guy's ex. (that noodle better not friendly fire my love Emily Prentiss!!)

oh SHIT Emily you're going in ALONE??? baby nooo. I mean, you're super capable and a complete badass. but....be safe

Dougie Noodle's FBI coming of age is I'm sorry just a touch too melodramatic for me.

I naively thought this might be a Will free episode, completely forgot Josh Stewart's name in the credits up top LOL

How come everyone is getting haircuts all the time? Even Tyler Green looked freshly shorn or combed or whatever. I am so confused about the timeline of these episodes. Maybe men's hair styles just confound me?

An "adult supper" LOL

not Tara looking pensively at Willifer from afar as if they are #couple goals !

Unfortunately Tyler looks goofy with his hair combed.

Oh, Come On. "You made me want to live again" layin' it on thick there buddy. Unfortunately it seems to be Working. aaaagh

I can't tell if this is illicit yet sweet or if this is Jason Clark Battle coffee shop setup #2. I think it's supposed to be read as romantic? I was praying Derek Morgan would burst through the front door like the Kool-Aid Man to put a stop to this.

I think I don't like how this was intercut/edited - Rossi zeroing in on Sicarius with Voit digging up a kill kit. It's novel at least - I don't remember seeing this style in any other CM ep. But it feels weirdly extra?

Okay, overall, I liked the episode. It wasn't all that great frankly, but the crime was creepy as hell if underdeveloped. The worst sins are the criminal lack of screen time for Luke Alvez (he has been far and away the most underutilized of the whole cast), and the progression of the Tyler/Penelope situation. At least that will lead to more dramatics down the road. I'm not wild about how that storyline requires PG to have rather cavalierly tucked away her professionalism (such as it is), but to me it is not a wild departure from her prior characterization. We've seen her make big mistakes before when blinded by romance, mistakes which have also impacted her work (remember the RPG knight she was gettin' romanced by that hacked the BAU? granted...that was a million years ago in season 1). And sometimes people jangle our chemicals and we do crazy shit. It's kind of interesting, from a Penelope character perspective.

This episode had plenty of Prentiss, for which I am always glad, and it was kind of nice to see her dynamic with Bailey continue to shift. I don't really think that will tip into messed up heterosexual shenanigans territory but I admit to being paranoid about the possibility. Emily is way too familiar with the realities (headaches!) of intra-Bureau "liaising" not to mention I think she looks at Bailey as a young man in need of guidance/training. I was disappointed that Tara didn't have any conversations with Rebecca (not even a voicemail!), but I can wait. JJ and Emily felt more normal with each other, which was welcome. This episode was juggling too much, but that's the price of admission it seems with how they are trying to tell the unsub's story plus team lives etc. I'm glad they got renewed because I've basically given up hope on seeing Prentiss' personal life this season. *maybe* in the next season. And last - Derek Morgan was top of mind for me. It was nice to have his imaginary cameos, both in Emily's memories of Hogan's Alley and in his capacity as Penelope Garcia sense-talker.

WOW I DID NOT EVEN NOTICE THERE WAS A "POST"-CREDITS SCENE WTF. What is this, an MCU movie?

Um....... I'm just going to have to reserve judgment until I've seen the last 3 episodes. It will continue to be batshit I'm sure.

I did find it gross how he was laid out like a corpse on PG's kitchen counter covered in... cookbooks? Ok. 😂

#criminal minds spoilers #cm spoilers #criminal minds evolution spoilers #cme spoilers

[dephirium]

So. I am leaving my fic's big ass infodump here because A) having it in the comments is ugly and B) I am too busy and tired to try to make it hmtl pretty on the author notes or whatever. Plus, AO3’s character limit is ass.

Here's the fic: Tha koimithó ótan petháno.

Funnies

Akire: I trust that mister Delamer and mister Maitsu are doing well together :)

Damon: *screaming, traumatized*

Jean: *screaming, also traumatized*

Damon: Why tf are you calling me a kid I am 18

Jean:

Jean: I thought you were like 16

Jean: I am worried about you.

Damon: Hahaha.

Damon: Oh you're not joking?

Damon: HAHAHahaHAhA—

Scrapped content

In chapter 2 I forgot to add that Jean notices signs of Petechiae (Red dots on the skin/cheeks, usually present after crying) on Damon's face, which he points out in the narration and mentally ponders "maybe he is not holding on as well as we thought." I don't fucking KNOW how I did not add it because I remember writing it into the doc but I guess I accidentally deleted it???? What-fucking-ever man I am too tired to rewrite that scene. Also, this chapter would not work as well if Jean was a lot more aware about how badly Damon was holding on. Sooo, yeah. Good forethought past me question mark.

(Jean knows general medical stuff because of his job / he binge read about it after the Edward thing to avoid any other crewmates being ill / hurt. Kind of comes out of left field in this chapter sorry lol I kind of gave up mid-fic so the quality is kind of bad)

In the titanic argument I was planning for Damon to respond “The debate was so bad I regret doing it sober,” or something of the sort. To which Jean asks Holy Shit You Drink ? Ended up scrapped because Damon, even while sleep deprived, is way too secretive about his abuse personal life for his own good. Besides, the scene was getting too long.

Also, yes, he does drink (/hc). Not by own volition most of the time, but he does. Legal drinking age? What is that? The Maitsu family never heard of it. (Wolfgang would have a stroke if he knew nobody tell him)

I actually planned a bit where, when Damon bandages Jean's wound (it was planned to happen on the bed and not the floor btw), Jean explains the items™ to Damon after he points out the first aid kit being the debater's and Damon looks at the ship captain like he grew a third head. Hence, explanation.

It felt too forced and I ended up removing it. You probably can figure it out with the context I left (I HOPE), but here is the explanation just in case:

(This idea was based on a fic by the lovely Insqmniac. I don't remember the name rn, sorry ;; EDIT: Acting and Pretending!!! They deleted the work but it was very good!) Tozu left an item for all the killing game participants with deep emotional and / or medical significance in their room’s nightstands. Be it a family memento, a candy brand you liked as a kid, a perfume that isn't sold anymore, prescription pills or eye contacts: That kind of stuff. It is like an intimidation tactic or something??? Something to scare the participants with bcs of the amount of information they have about their personal lives. Or something. I don't know man, it is 4 pm I have not slept in like 30 hours I have reached a new plane of existence. It just sounds so creepy and it is definitely something Tozu would do. Maybe. I already had the canon divergence tag so might as well utilize it in a angst way while at it /shrug

Jean received Edward’s marine dog tag, Damon received a first aid kit (and he's the only person in the killing game that has first aid equipment, fun). You can probably imagine why Jean reacted like that to seeing Damon’s item and his subsequent realization. Let's just say that Maitsudad was not kind.

I had a very lovely idea very late into this fic of playing on the concept of Dragons and snakes being very similar (in mythology/religion, anyways) but I couldn't figure out a way to include it organically in this fic (considering that the themes/metaphors of the fic were already too wonk as is) so I MIGHT get another Jean & Damon fic just to get that symbolism out of my head???

Not likely. I feel horrible about my poor characterization of the dude in this fic already.

I butchered Jean's characterization so bad I made salami with it,,,

In the Damon panic attack from Jean’s POV, I had to scrap a small line where Jean notes that some of the nonsense Damon is spewing in his panic is actually Spanish. Another hc of mine, personally Damon looks like the kind of guy to throw Hispanic slang and insult all your family lineage in one breath (and yes I am biased because I am Hispanic how could you tell. But no, he is not Hispanic, it is actually kind of complicated to explain). I will probably delve into that hc and my general mental illness about the backstory I made up for the guy (yes I am very normal about Damon shut up) in another fic I have planned.

I had to scrap so many Damon lines y'all. He is just. So easy to write. This dude is like depressed 14 year old me trying to seem edgy and pretentious istg.

Info dumping

I don't think I am doing a fic of Jean alone to actually write this down so, here, have the whole Edward situation and my delusions about it: basically, back when Jean was just becoming a ship captain by himself (he probably started as a cadet/assistant of one of his relatives, who was the ship captain themselves. Jean then took the job from them later down the line, idk) at age 18ish, there was this regular crew he had. One of the people in said crew was Edward, an asshole with self-worth issues who made it everyone else's problem.

On one departure, they get news of a big-ass storm happening, and they are very much stuck in the middle of the sea trying to just survive it(tm). Luckily it was a cargo ship so the only people they had to look for were themselves, but still.

Edward decides to be the main man on everything to prove his worth, that he means something to the crew, that his life has meaning. Everyone was kind of ignoring Edward's self destructive behavior (not their issue, they said). Jean in turn decided to try to do something about it, so new into the position and wanting the best for his crew, so he went to talk to Edward so he hopefully realizes he is being a moron and stops playing the martyr.

Edward, as you can tell by this fic, does not heed Jean’s pleas to take care of himself and decides to spitefully double down on his self-destructiveness so hard he fell ass backwards and killed himself due to sleep deprivation and starvation the fucking idiot.

(His crew, who were in their late 20s to mid 50s and had already seen some shit™, took care of the corpse themselves. They didn't want Jean, as young as he was, to see the body. He saw it anyways, if only on passing. Which is also the reason why he was more inclined to believe Eva when seeing the dummy, but details)

Jean blames himself over pushing Edward “too hard” and causing his death. (While at the same time he feels like he could have done MORE to avoid his death back then, ain't guilt fun?) That's why he fears pushing Damon too much until there's nothing he can do but twist the debater's arm into actually resting after days of watching the younger consistently get worse. And, welp, we know how that ends.

At least he tried tho. 乁( •_• )ㄏ

Another thing. Was the buddy system actually chosen at random or was Damon right about it being rigged?

... Who knows! Lol

Logically speaking I think it would make more sense for it to either be rigged in the random pairings to get the most optimal-ish outcome (List of pairings in chapter 1 AAA), or like Akire actually bullshitted the random bit to try to get Damon to cooperate. But in the other hand it would be too fucking funny if it was actually made at random and Damon is just being unnecessarily hostile and antagonizing for no reason. So, I wrote it to be ambiguous! probably!! Go have your own interpretation idk!!

Other miscellaneous notes

Eva had the exact same "You are doing this to keep tabs on us" train of thought as Damon, but unlike the debater she decided to cooperate on the plan without whining about it. She and Ingrid have an amazing time playing Dos in their dorm.

Desmond is having a shit time because he wants to help Ulysses have a, at least, decent sleep schedule since they are partners. They have a similar ish arc to Damon and Jean funnily enough, except all the trauma and accidental PTSD triggering.

The Titanic bit is actually a thing that happened. A dude legit predicted the Titanic it is bonkers (I learned this thanks to 999 and thought it would be funny to add it because sleep deprived Damon likes to info dump (yes I am neurodivergent how could you tell) and Jean is the fucking Ultimate Ship Captain what better chance can you get?). Also yes ships back then were bonkers it is hilarious.

When Jean returns with food after this fic him and Damon sit down to explain to the latter all the things he missed in the class meetings so Damon is not running with fake facts again (and hopefully avoid other panic attacks about it in the future). They are forced to communicate about being partners and while they are both still very emotionally stunted because of their respective traumas they at least have a semi-honest conversation for once. Mostly because Damon is too tired and worn-down to be antagonistic.

The roommate system prooobably gets ruled out at the week two and a half(?) by a very frustrated Tozu, but by then he will need a very strong/kill or die motive to actually get a crack on the partner system itself (which is too broad a concept for him to actually rule out the game entirely).

(Realistically speaking he probably would deny the system from happening as quickly as it was brought up because he would notice it as a liability to his killing game plan, but then again. This is fic. I like my Tozu very stupid in fic)

Damon slowly starts reintegrating back into the group when he feels less like "Hi I just had 4 panic attacks in a week what is life at this point." Jean personally helps him in it.

Damon doesn't exactly remember what happened when he was triggered (bcs I hc him to forget trauma to cope, only vaguely remembering things when triggered / having intrusive thoughts). He remembers stabbing Jean because of a "overreaction" on his part and that's pretty much it. He feels like garbage about it but doesn't know how to apologize.

Thankfully, the wound was very minimal so nobody really noticed it after the bleeding stopped and Jean removed the bandages. It is their shared secret that nobody shall know about.

After chapter 1 Damon has a 10 minute panic attack, call himself cringe for it, and forces himself to go for the futon. You could hear him cursing out to all the gods throughout the living quarters. Like La Llorona but it is a dude swearing instead.

Jean brings Damon food. From things like granola bars to small portions of meals (to avoid any accidental refeeding syndrome), every time Jean goes out, he brings Damon something to eat. The others question it at first but Jean only gives vague explanations so they give up (they know, somewhat. But it is not their business so they don't push about it).

Damon has never had anyone offer comfort or food without a catch to it so he is very confused to the whole ordeal but too tired to actually complain (he still compulsively checks everything, afraid of poison, despite never being any).

after a bit he actually somewhat warms up to the ship captain !! Yaaay Damon getting comfort !!!! Finally !!!!!

Writing this my entire thought process of Damon's characterization was "abused stray cat that hisses / scratches you but all it wants is love and a stable living environment and once it has it and gets used to it, it is actually very cuddly." That's just him in a nutshell. Just add some asshole pretentious vibes into the mix & you're done

I made Edward up very late (writing session 8 out of 10) into chapter 2 because I needed a reason as to why Jean would physically force Damon to sleep. When I said the man is a plot device I meant it lol

Tozu had a Live Tozu Reaction to Jean's and Damon's fight thinking that fINAlLY SOMEONE IS DYING.. And then nobody did. Oop.

AND THEN Jean gets killed and Damon suffers horribly /jkjk

#dephinterested #dephinfodump

[rubys-domain]

more build talk:

i've been experimenting with giving layla noblesse instead of tenacity in my freeze/shatter comp with main dps chong + tenacity kokomi + vv kazuha for that tasty trifecta of support buffs yk. and i think it works pretty well actually, since her burst has the lowest possible cost at 40 energy. therefore in this team she would have zero issues spamming it to proc the 4pc effect. but then i've been thinking of using rosaria instead for the crit rate share. (seriously my chong's crit issues are BAD. i've been trying so hard but he just doesn't crit consistently OR for much when he does, especially when he's not proccing melt. so if he can use 4pc blizzard strayer + rosaria's shared crit rate, then i might be able to get away with not focusing on crit rate as much and just going for crit damage instead. kinda like what 4pc marechaussee does for lyney.) plus she wants to be bursting anyway, and kokomi + the occasional freeze means that there's not much need for a shielder. but also taking into consideration that i'm building dehya as lyney's interruption resistance + tenacity-holding support that's also pyro, that kinda puts layla out of a job. and i don't like that. so i'm thinking about a comp that can let her run golden troupe because that's where the vast majority of her damage comes from anyway. maaaaaaybe it could still be viable if she's on-fielding? since it's not like the 4pc is completely nullified if she's on-field (only partially). kinda like how according to the xingqiu mains subreddit his bis is still emblem even as a main dps because the damage from his rain swords is just insane.

what's funny about this idea is that i could still use my current mono cryo team anyway, just with their roles shuffled around. rosaria still holding noblesse and kazuha still holding vv, but with chong being the cryo normals enabler + wgs-holding support so she'll just have insane amounts of atk, and then it's really all a matter of giving her as much crit as possible. or i could just go 2pc2pc blizzard strayer-golden troupe. i don't know calcs so idk which one is better. or if 4pc blizzard strayer still can't be beat. if she were off-field and chong remained the main dps she could take so much more advantage of 4pc golden troupe in a hybrid build. but honestly, if she's gonna be supporting chong then i'd rather give her an unbreakable shield + tenacity to buff everyone. i'm not much of a fan of sub-dps's honestly — i'd rather make my hypercarries stronger. i choose comps where every other character can provide some kind of stat buff to my main dps (dehya to lyney) or enable a reaction that makes them deal more damage (xingqiu to cyno). at the very least they could be batteries like fischl. but if they're there solely doing damage off-field and not really doing anything else, i'd rather not use them. which is why i barely use xiangling for melt chong, and also why i will never use her in my lyney team (besides the fact that i just don't like her very much). the only reason she's on my melt chong team at all is because i can technically give her 4pc tenacity and throw guoba on the ground so she buffs chong that way. and i guess pyronado kinda helps with melting all his swords, even though that wasn't really an issue without her. but honestly mostly just for the pyro resonance with bennett. dehya can do most of that better, with the added bonus of interruption res. yeah it's technically less overall team damage without pyronado. but again, i don't really care. because imagine unironically running tenacity guoba. good for you if you run it and like it (and honestly mad respect); it's just really not for me. most people would call me crazy for not running her with emblem. and at that point she doesn't really support chong in any way — she just adds her own personal damage to the team. and i'd rather have an actual support on the team instead.

obviously in things like nilou bloom or taser it's a different story though, since most or even everyone's damage counts. and yeah in international she does kinda fit my definition of a support in that she enables childe to vape (even though it's actually the other way around). i'm just not all that interested in hydro dps's.

man what's gotten me into a stating opinions mood today

#⇢₊˚⊹ 🩷∥ruby∥yo，ide yo !!

[uncloseted]

i’m from the uk, if i apply to a top us university will they have lower standards for extracurricular stuff? because i see us students with like 9 volunteering activities, national level sport, perfect grades, started a business with 6 figure profit and they get rejected from so many colleges. of course i will do some activities (a bit of work experience, some volunteering, very good gcses and alevels, reading and competitions, high level piano and clarinet) but no one does any more than that to get into a top university in the uk, whereas everyone seems to be doing about 5x that amount in the us and still not having much luck. will they take that into account?

As someone who went through both the US and UK application process, I would say that the US process is just less straightforward. Colleges in the US are looking for a wide variety of traits that they think will create the best incoming class possible. Typically, they want a class that's balanced for gender, that has a variety of people from different racial/ethnic backgrounds, socioeconomic statuses, etc., that everyone in the class can do the work they're assigned, that their individual programs will have enough students, that the student is a "good fit" for the school, etc.

That means that, while they're looking for some students who have lots of extracurriculars, universities are also looking for students who have shown dedication to just one activity or subject, students who have unique interests, students who come from diverse backgrounds and life experiences, etc. For many universities in the US, a student who has been working to support their family is equally as interesting as a student who did a million different activities.

And because universities are looking for a lot of different things, it can be hard to guess who will get into which school. For example, I went to a top 30 university in the US (I think it was ranked 21 when I applied) (I also got into St Andrews and got a conditional from Edinburgh, if that gives some context). My GPA actually wasn't that good and I didn't have that many extracurriculars going for me. Pretty much my only activity was that I did theater, both at school and then for a professional theater company. But my test scores were excellent, I had a few unusual projects that I had worked on, and I wanted to pursue a program that the university put a lot of money into but that didn't have a lot of students. So for the university, I was a pretty good gamble. My guess is that from my test scores, they could see that I could do the work, from my activities, they could see that I could maintain dedication to a project long-term, and my unusual projects plus an interest in an unusual field of study meant that I would fill a spot in a program they were trying to grow and that I had a higher likelihood of doing something interesting. Most of the other people I know who went to my university got in via an audition or portfolio rather than their extracurricular activities. It really depends on the person and what they might be able to offer the school.

All of that is to say that it depends on the story you tell on your application materials and your interview. Universities in the US want you to present a strong story that reflects what you're like as a person, not just a list of what you've done or an explanation of why you're interested in a given subject. If you can tell a compelling story, you're more likely to get in than you would be if you just had good credentials.

[barlowbutt36]

How It Is Design Patio Decking Yourself

It seems that everybody knows somebody that does "website design". The term can refer to anyone from a high school student working on the weekends between book reports a good established professional website designer. The actual this, you need to be careful when choosing a website design company. Choosing the wrong individual or firm can mean primary between having a website that turns out sales and dealing with a website that turns off customers. Halo 2 Anniversary Setup need to attempt your due diligence when you sit down with your designer (or web design firm) to be sure the level of competency and professionalism they have. It is that business owners ask the following five questions in your initial conversation with any potential affordable web design firm or individual. No matter how you came into web design, understanding marketplace as well as possessing the skills you'll have got to succeed both are essential. So that it is in what is now extremely competitive and inventive environment you'll need flair, good business sense, solid skills in selected field and a relentless quest for your top priority. Web design is one of essentially the most dynamic fields any designer can work in, just how do you land that dream place of employment? The how to get experience when you're young end up being create your own private projects or freelance privately. This is plus a stylish great way of students different some money while attending graphic design school. Side projects are a fantastic way in order to work to get a portfolio which completely yours. Halo 2 Anniversary Full Version pc game Download is a great to help work on real-world design projects with real clientele. Use these experiences as the best way to refine and sharpen your skills. A: I've always been interested in art. Once i was little drawing and painting were my favourite things! My parents are both very creative people an architect as well art educator. I grew up watching my Mom in the pottery studio and my dad always forced me draw and page through art books. Finding a married relationship ring your girlfriend adore at first sight is both on the list of easiest and the most difficult things to undertake. To begin with, using a diamond ring is the safest way to become since harm women that appreciate one on their finger. After on, you've got to decide the design that diamond will be set. Here, it is quite possible to get the wrong wedding ring design. But there are certain ring design for women that by no means lead you wrong. To obtain them, definitely will first just about all have to achieve the correct ring size on her behalf. When you get that, you can move in front. One thing that 's very important to success, though, will be the initial piece of research. Guessing the size and model of your garden is the very worst foods mistake you can make. You may come up with a superb design, but unless it fits, it will be a complete waste of period. Avoid Animation - Animated GIFs ran out of style a years ago. So did a marquee sign. Avoid Halo 2 Anniversary PC Game of them. Of all time. This goes back to the recommendation that your website design be modern. Texture is actually definitely an important element as beautifully. Generally you want to use to incorporate different textures into your existing design. Provides your landscape a great visual impact. Color is also good at this procedure. By utilizing different color combinations you give your yard rough bit of visual put.

#HALO Crack

[nightowlwriting]

summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

[thedoubteriswise]

okay so. I am a smart adult with many important responsibilities. I have good taste and care about things that matter. for this reason, I’ve been trying to identify where in cql canon wangxian manage to fuck.

because they definitely do; I like a good post-canon getting together fic as much as the next guy, but it’s just not realistic.

allow them. it’s already been so long.

(just like this goddamn post turned out to be, let’s do a cut)

right. so initially it looks like you could place this right after the time skip in episode 33, because it shows us that wwx is with lwj in cloud recesses. we know that he spent the night in the jingshi because he wakes up there the next morning before he goes for a nostalgic tour of his old school.

and also visits the cold spring, where lwj is mostly naked. nice.

but wait! wwx is surprised by the scars on his back and chest. that seems like something he would have known about if they’d already been naked together the night before, so I’m going to say they did not fuck immediately upon wwx’s return to cloud recesses. okay, fine, they’re taking things slow, that’s cool.

maybe they could work it into the next night, then. oh wait, lqr is injured and... staying in the jingshi? for reasons?

I don’t know why. he must have his own house in cloud recesses, and it’s probably at least as comfortable as lwj’s, but here he is. he lives to stop his nephew from getting laid, I guess.

the next day they do some Q&A with the kids and determine that they need to head to qinghe to figure out what’s going on with this sword thing. great! we love a romantic road trip, plenty of alone time. but they also have to do their jobs, and then jin ling needs to get rescued from a wall of dirt, and jc is unfortunately there being himself, and then they have to grill nhs about his tomb full of angry sabers, etc. etc.

with all that going on, their next obvious chance is at the inn immediately after interviewing nhs. this evening has already included:

wwx gazing lovingly at lwj from afar

lwj carrying wwx on his back

lwj pawing at wwx’s robes trying to deal with his cursed leg

lwj helping wwx up the stairs, serving him wine, fixing his flute, and generally being at his beck and call

a very sexy and homoerotic duet

and now they’re alone and drooling over each other as usual. this seems like a plausible spot, right?

it does! but no. after they go back to the nie basement o’ swords and hear the backstory on nmj’s death, we see them walking in yueyang and lwj asks wwx how the curse mark on his leg is doing. wwx says it’s almost healed, which may or may not be a lie, but his inner monologue says:

he’s more concerned about the wound on his arm from the sacrificing curse, which lwj doesn’t know about, because wwx won’t tell him and they still haven’t been naked together.

also, this silly teenage shit doesn’t make much sense unless they’re still dancing around each other.

you guys love the sound of opportunities as they go flying past, don’t you?

right after this, lwj gets drunk. I’m aware that Stuff Happens in the novel scene that inspired this bit, and they do incorporate some of that into the show by having lwj commit petty larceny and admit that he “likes rabbits” as part of the softest and most loving conversation in human history oh my god

but lwj goes to sleep right on time, and the next morning, wwx is laughing and reassuring him that nothing happened.

after this, it’s time to go on a fucked up field trip with the kids in yi city, so they don’t really have any time alone for a few episodes until they’ve finished that and everyone is back at yet another inn. I wonder if they learned something about wasted chances and poor communication from this miserable songxiao story?

maybe! look, they’re being cute and domestic. there are currently no material barriers preventing them from having sex, nor will there be any specific evidence later on proving that they didn’t.

but they’re still firmly in mystery-solving mode and the juniors and lxc are floating around. the vibe isn’t quite there. if I were to pick the most solid reason why I think they’re saving room for jesus at this point, it would be the tension that happens when wwx again asks how lwj recognized him. lwj asks why his memory is so bad, and wwx replies that he wishes he had a bad memory. even though they’re comfortable and happy being together, there’s still some fundamental distance remaining. there’s no sense of romantic resolution. that was actually a point against all their previous opportunities as well; they’re all very sweet, but none of these feel like the place in a story where the romantic leads Officially Get Together.

okay, off to koi tower! shit is getting extremely real. everyone’s busy insinuating that they recognize wwx, but no one is saying it explicitly. wwx isn’t supposed to be here. the guy he’s pretending to be also isn’t supposed to be here. he and his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brother are trying to figure out if his boyfriend’s brother’s boyfriend is a murderer. no one is comfortable and the political intrigue leaves no time for fucking in front of anyone’s salad.

I guess there’s plenty of time to make dozens of armed guards and like half the people they know wait while they have a romantic moment, though.

could they be more in love? And that sure feels like a romantic resolution that might be followed by narratively-earned sex.

ah. no, unfortunately wwx gets stabbed again. this certainly sucks, but it does have the helpful consequence of making lwj take him back to cloud recesses, where they are mostly alone and as safe as they can be in the circumstances. now there’s even more tenderness and also some plot-justified touching and skin exposure. plus, lwj just made a very public declaration of love.

too bad wwx has probably been unconscious since he started coughing up blood in the forest near lanling. he’s also still visibly in pain. fresh abdominal wounds tend to kill the mood.

but hey, the injuries on this show are only as serious as they need to be to move the plot forward and facilitate gentle h/c scenes, so by evening he’s looking perfectly healthy and walking around under his own steam like nothing’s wrong. I guess that problem can be ignored moving forward.

lxc then offers the the most devastating highlights of lwj’s backstory, like, all at once. it’s nice that he includes a flute solo to give wwx a second to process this mountain of terrible information. what the fuck.

there he is! the most devoted man in the whole world! turns out they can actually be more in love after all.

and then the following scene... look, I’m lazy and I don’t know how to make gifs, but screenshots cannot properly convey how good it is. you all know. the hesitant way wwx approaches, the slow and gentle piano version of wangxian, the two of them watching the snow together, it’s. ugh.

remember how I was talking about how the last scene with no material barriers was an unlikely candidate because of the lack of romantic resolution?

well, here’s wwx still being cagey at the beginning of this conversation.

and here they are in the middle of this conversation, having some epiphanies about the course of wwx’s life - I love this shot for a lot of reasons, but I extra love it because it shows wwx out in the snow, with lwj as the safety and warmth waiting behind him, god this show goes hard, holy shit

they both recall their vow to live with a clean conscience and internally say some very corny things about each other because they are both So Much, and then,

ah, what the hell. he can say it out loud after all. romantic resolution accomplished.

and then the camera slowly pulls away as wuji plays.

a slow zoom out? swelling music? listen, I am a connoisseur, I know a tasteful fade-to-black indicating a sex scene that won’t happen on camera when I see one. at last, we have a winner!

now you may think this post is finally over, but I actually have one more piece of evidence for you - the next scene shows the two of them the morning after, meditating behind a screen in the hanshi while lxc is waiting for jgy to show up.

before wwx got de-cored, he was a pretty powerful cultivator, right? the chances that he’s just bad at meditating or that he can’t stay focused on this task seem slim to me. so why does he keep falling asleep?

well. he had kind of a late night.

#yes I do have a lot of time on my hands #the untamed #cql #wangxian #meta #my meta

[fernpost]

Cycle 0 - Interviews

[read on ao3]

[next]

Taako Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in transmutation and inventive magical applications.

Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.

Davenport likes to think of himself as calm and composed. It’s hard to throw him off. He has to be in order to have gotten this far in his mission as fast as he has.

But when he turns around from shutting the door to see his interviewee with his feet kicked up on the table, twirling a wand through his fingers, he’s a little shocked. He’s been doing these interviews for two days now, and even the more relaxed and confident people have held a bit more sense for decorum.

It’s a bit rude.

It’s also a little interesting.

He sits at his desk, pulling the elf’s papers away from his boots (shiny, and though they look expensive he can see they’re worn down and well taken care of) and glances down. “Tell me, Taako Taaco, what makes you want to explore the planerverse?”

“Bored.”

If the feet on the desk threw him off for a second, that floors him entirely. “Bored?”

“I’ve got nothing else to do on this plane, why not, you know?”

“No burning desire to go further than any being has gone before?” That’s one of the normal responses, the well-planned out speeches he keeps getting in response to his opening question.

The elf crosses his feet, leaning back somehow further into the provided chair. Davenport worries for a second that he may fall as he continues on, “that’s cool too, I guess. But I figure, why wouldn’t you want the great Taaco name aboard your ship.”

Davenport picks up a pen from his table and makes a small note on the paperwork, “no offense, Mr. Taaco, but you’re rather cavalier about this interview that determines whether or not you’re accepted into a program that may redefine our understanding of the world.”

The elf shrugs and takes his feet off of Davenport’s desk, flashing him a smirk, “you’ve seen my sister’s paperwork, yeah? No way you’re not going to accept her, and we’re a package deal. Says it right there in bold at the top of my application, my man.” It does, in fact, say that at the top. Cursive words noting how he refuses to accept any position on the ship if his sister isn't there too. When reviewing who he was interviewing today, he saw similar words on Lup Taaco’s paperwork.

“You���re very confident in your sister’s abilities.” Davenport begins, pausing for a second as he notes the way the elf begins to tense up before continuing, “however, I wouldn’t sell yourself so short. You also graduated top of your class, and excelled in the art of transmutation multiple times. One of your letters of recommendation even noted how you made many spells easier to cast, somatically speaking.”

“What can I say, I’ll find any short cut I can.”

Davenport makes another note on his paper. “Now, I do need to ask about your record of petty theft.”

“Oh, natch.”

Lup Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in evocation and applied magic regarding planar research.

Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.

“Lup Taaco, it is nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Captain.” The woman in front of him smiles. The resemblance to her brother couldn’t be more clear, and though her demeanor is quite similar, she at least doesn’t have her feet on his desk.

Not that his desk is anything fancy, but the point stands. “I’m not technically the captain yet, you know.”

“Potato, potato.”

Davenport is fairly certain that’s not how that phrase is used. “You did research into the planes at Tredore, correct?”

“Quite a bit, yeah. I’m sure my brother told you?”

The slight tilt of her head and lit of her voice tells Davenport this is some sort of test, which is confusing and a bit disconcerting, considering he is the one conducting the interview. He checks a quick box on his papers. “He talked you up a bit, yes. But this is your own interview, and I wanted to discuss your own knowledge with you, personally.”

She smiles, a touch more warmth to it than her previous attitude. “Oh, of course. Did quite a bit of studying at Tredore. First real school we attended. Kinda boring at times, you know?”

“If you’re accepted into this program, it’s going to be four intense months of studying and teaching you the more complex workings of the ship. Plus the two months of actually being on the ship.”

“That’s the fun stuff. Not a third semester in a row of another language I already figured out most of years ago.”

“How many languages do you speak, Ms. Taaco?”

“Including common, five languages.”

“Impressive.” Davenport himself only speaks three. “Now, I would like to ask you about your criminal record, if you don’t mind?”

Her smile grew sharp as she laughs.

Honestly, he isn’t surprised. Her explanation is the same as her brothers. Grew up on the road, needed food and other items on occasion. Didn’t always run fast enough. Davenport can’t fault them, and certainly won’t hold it against them.

He glances down at her paperwork, about to ask another question about her education, when she speaks up. “I’ve got a question for you, Captain.”

“Oh?”

“The ship- we’re really going with the name ‘The Starblaster’?”

Davenport sighs. He knew this question was coming, but he was expecting it to come during a press conference from a reporter, not a potential shipmate. “Yes. To be fair, it was a communal name we put to a vote from everyone who worked on building the engine.”

Ms. Taaco smiles. “Dope.”

Barry J. Bluejeans. 37 years old. Human. Wizard; specialization in applied magic regarding bonds and planar research.

Previous experience: Current assistant professor at Duffman University of the Arcane, part-time employee at the Institute of Planer Research and Exploration.

Criminal Record: Previous altercations regarding necromancy; no crimes against the nature of life and death ever committed.

Mr. Bluejeans is an interesting man. By the look of him, you’d expect to see him fumbling his way through a PTA meeting for his two kids. Instead, Davenport is staring down the word ‘necromancy’ on his paperwork on an application regarding literal planar travel on a ship called 'the Starblaster.'

So far, the interview has been going well. He’d listened to the man explain his research into the arcane, and he’d understood planar travel as well as any of the current scientists and engineers at the Institute. He was called in often for conferences and meetings about the bond engine. He’d seen the man walking around on occasion. They’d never been in a meeting together before, but he’d seemed nice.

But he also had a history of necromancy.

Now, Davenport doesn’t like to judge people. However, being in an enclosed space with someone who needed to specify he had never technically committed “crimes against the nature of humanity” isn’t the most comforting.

But, he was a smart man. Easy to get along with, too. So far. Necromancy notwithstanding.

Best to get it over with, “so, Mr. Bluejeans. I do need to ask about your criminal record-”

“Oh! Yeah, I never killed anyone. Or un- killed anyone. Uh, resurrected, I mean. Just did lots of studying into the application of necromancy and necromantic spells. Got in trouble because I toed the line of ‘research’ and ‘bringing my cat back to life,’ but got a stern talking to. Didn’t try it again, and don’t plan on needing to deal with those types of authorities again.”

Okay, normal enough answer, far as the situation applies-

“My current research into it has stayed purely theoretical, and it won’t interfere with the mission at all.”

So the man is still into necromancy.

Davenport glances down at the man’s file, thick with it’s attached papers Bluejeans has done on planar research. He’s not even stuck up about his level of education, and that’s extremely rare for the field.

Holding back a sigh, Davenport asks, “Can you explain the paper you wrote on the outer planes interactions with the inner planes for me?”

It was a really good paper.

But the man is still into necromancy.

Lucretia. 20. Human. Chronicler; Specialization in journalism.

Previous experience: Due to multiple NDA, she is unable to give us the exact number and titles of books she has written, but she sent letters of recommendation from Duke Rensburg, Lady Norabelle, and Warren of the Seatree Clan.

Criminal Record: Acquisition and attempted use of a false ID.

“So, Ms. Lucretia, I understand you cannot provide us with most examples of your works, but from what you have provided, you seem to be very, very good.”

“I like to think so, yes.” The young woman in front of him seems polite. She’s quiet; he saw her waiting outside with a few others before her interview, and while most of them were engaged in some awkward small talk, she sat away from them. Likely partially due to her age- she is much younger than the people outside- but she also simply seems quiet.

Which wouldn’t be the worst quality in someone you would be sharing a small, enclosed space with for an extended period of time. But, if she couldn’t bond with the others sufficiently, the bond engine won’t work.

(Hell, the bond engine was already finicky, they figured out the tech only a month ago, and they only have four months to bond an entire crew to pilot it and-)

“Can you explain to me why you acquired a fake ID and tried to use it at a, uh,” Davenport glances down at the records in front of him, holding back a chuckle, “at the forbidden section of the Library of Runar?”

Lucretia looks uncomfortable for a second, and he’s sure if the lighting in the room were better he would be able to see her flush with embarrassment. She gives him a hesitant smile, “I can’t get into the explicit details, but I was working on a book for an older client whose memory was becoming patchy, and I wanted to confirm some details before I put their name to it. They wouldn’t allow me into the section without the proper documents, but my client refused to agree that I should double check his work, even though I was almost certain he was wrong, so I simply… found a way to get past their guard. I wasn’t going to steal anything and I was going to use the proper equipment to read through the documents.”

Davenport smiles, “pursuit of knowledge and truth is important to you, then?”

“I don’t think spreading lies, especially in that context, is very honorable, no.” Her hands are folded in her lap now, and she seems a bit more relaxed.

Considering the others he is planning on accepting, he may be wrong about her getting along with them. Anyone willing to break the law just to prove an old man wrong would at least get along with him. Davenport refuses to have any pushovers aboard his ship.

Magnus Burnsides. 19. Fighter; Specialization in protection fighting and mechanical engineering.

Previous experience: Current bouncer at Apex Club. Currently enrolled in Gallier’s Fighter Academy and College.

Criminal Record: One count of assault and battery, appealed for defense of another person present. One count of indecent exposure and public intoxication.

Davenport will be the first to admit it can be tricky to follow human aging patterns, but he knows he’s not mistaken in thinking the man in front of him is barely out of “child” territory. Nineteen is a very, very small amount of time to be alive. Also, a very, very small amount of time to learn important things, like how to run what is basically a ship right out of a science fiction novel- complete with breakthrough technology.

Despite this, it’s hard to not find the young man in front of him to be endearing, and mostly knowledgeable in the things they need him to be.

“Magnus. You’re very young, one of the youngest applicants we have. What makes you think you’re qualified as the head of security of the ship?”

The young man in front of him- Gods, he really is young- grins and lifts his arms to flex, a show of pride and ego almost unbefitting of an interview setting, “Have you seen my muscles? I’m very strong, and a very good fighter.”

Many of today’s interviews have been quite different than he was expecting.

“I was referring more to job experience.”

“Oh!” Magnus shifts in his seat, fingers drumming against the table as he thinks. “I worked as a bouncer for a club while I was in college and did, if I must toot my own horn, a very good job. You should have a letter of recommendation from the owner-” He leans forwards, reaching a hand out as if to look through his own files to show him the letter.

“Yes, I did read through it. She was very thorough in stating how eager you were to help.” Davenport glances down at the papers in front of him, holding back a sigh. It truly was a glowing review of this young man. While his grades from the aforementioned college weren’t the highest, especially in classes one might consider important for an institute of planar research, the two letter of recommendations he submitted from teachers of his explained how Burnsides was very persistent when he wanted to learn something he didn’t know. He also had taken quite a few classes regarding vehicles- not enough to claim the young man was an expert but enough to provide a solid basis to show him how things worked and could be repaired on the ship.

The kid’s attitude was something of a breath of fresh air in this place. However, there was one glaring concern.

“I was also a bit concerned about the criminal record we have on file for you. Assault and battery as well as the indecent exposure and public-”

“In my defense for the second one, I was drunk with some friends and maybe thought it’d be funny to streak in the lake. Who hasn’t been to a party that gets a little out of hand.” He holds his hands out as if to say “am I right?”

Off the record, Davenport is inclined to agree that he was right. On the record, he is choosing to ignore it. “And the assault and battery? The file says it was in defense of a young person.”

Burnsides grins, “that’s how I got hired as the bouncer!”

He waits a moment, expecting Magnus to continue. When it seems the young man is assuming that is enough explanation, he prompts, “by beating up a man outside the club?”

“Yeah! He was harassing someone outside, and I was walking home and passed by. I told him to step off, and he didn’t. So I decked him, and he was out right away.”

It lined up with the records he had, and honestly, seeing someone so ready to step up to the defense of a stranger was a good quality. Better than some of the older applicants who were much more… formal in their training. He wonders briefly how Burnsides would react to an altercation against someone with magic.

Glancing down at his records, he guesses he would run headfirst without thinking.

Stifling a small grin, Davenport continues, “Now, tell me. Assume we’re up in space, and something goes wrong with the bond engine. What would your course of action be, Mr. Burnsides?”

Merle Hitower Highchurch. 214. Cleric; Specialization in botany, religion, and medical treatment.

Previous experience: Current botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. Professor of botany at Narvick’s University for four years.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of loitering.

The door is pushed all the way open before Davenport can even call out the next person.

A short dwarf slides into the room with a wide grin, “hey Dav!” A mug of tea is pressed into his hands.

“Hello, Merle. You do know this needs to be at least a little formal, yes?”

“Formal schmormal. Ask me your silly questions already, bud.” Merle Highchurch, resident botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration, plops right down in the seat he’d taken to commandeering once a week, for the past three weeks.

Davenport had seen him around before, but a botanist in an institute designed for exploring other planes that had little capabilities to actually go to those places yet was rarely busy, and even more rarely called upon. He still barely knew the guy, but after the day they’d gotten stuck in the elevator for ten minutes when it broke down, the dwarf had come to his office for tea each Wednesday.

It was a bit strange, but the tea was good.

“Tell me about your work experience.”

Merle laughs heartily, “they barely have me do anything around here, ‘cept tend to the couple of plants they’ve grabbed from the ground plane.”

“It’s the Elemental Plane of Earth, and don’t sell yourself short, Merle. This is basically a job interview, you know.”

Merle slurps loudly at his own mug, “aren’t you planning on nepotism hiring me, because we’re buds?”

“That isn’t even what that word means, Merle.”

“Isn’t it?”

Davenport stares into the tea, “is this made from the Earth plant?”

“Maybe?”

Davenport. 276. Captain and navigator; Specialization in mechanical engineering and arcane components combined with contemporary technology.

Previous Experience: Crewmate on the Lady Blue for twenty years. Graduated from Grensville University. Current staff at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration.

Criminal Record: Unlawful resistance of orders from captain, raising of commotion on board ship while employed.

Davenport handed the six files over to Selune, “These are them.”

The halfling woman flips through them, eyebrows raising higher with each one she sees. “You’re sure you grabbed the right ones? A few of these I understand, but you do know we had the Issaiah Broler apply.”

He folds his hand in front of him, nodding. “I also know that during the interview he made me want to pour my tea on his lap. There’s no chance of getting the bond engine going with him. These are the six I picked. They’re all qualified- and the ones that are less educated in the specifics in the field I’m sure will pick up on the important information quickly. The Taaco twins already will give the bond engine a huge boost. Ms. Lucretia will ensure we have everything chronicled, something I’m sure you can appreciate, Selune. Mr. Bluejeans previous work shows he will thrive given the opportunities awaiting us. Mr. Highchurch is an educated man, and I trust him to keep the crew healthy and provide ample information on anything botany related we encounter, and I’m certain Mr. Burnsides will provide ample help in any task we show him how to do.” He sighs, glancing out the window of her office. There were a few people lingering outside in the courtyard of the Institute. “We have been given a tremendous opportunity to explore beyond what we can imagine, Selune. The last thing I want is to be bogged down by people stuck in their ways, who have been working in this field long enough to have their preconceived notions about what to expect and who will react badly when they’re proven wrong. I trust my own judgement in picking a crew, and I hope you trust my abilities to get these people ready to set sail in four months.”

What he doesn’t say is that he doesn’t want a bunch of stuffy jackasses on his ship. He’s not even sure picking all the over-qualified people would pass through the higher-ups' inspection of the crew. The people he picked were qualified enough to get a quick sign-off, but not too much. Anyone “overqualified” would probably get rejected. The ship had been built in basically six months. It’d get them off the ground, sure. It wasn’t going to explode on them once they got up there, but it wasn’t safe. There was a reason Davenport was the captain at all.

The six candidates in those files didn’t have a name for themselves as “important” to any stuffy scientific group or noble family. These people he picked were just that- people. A group of people who he believed deserved this opportunity. If anyone was getting the chance to make a name for themselves- to have the chance to redefine everything they know about the planar systems, he wanted to make sure they deserved the chance. A dangerous chance, sure. But what was science if not a little risky.

She sighs, opening the file on top. Her hand reaches for her pen, “Davenport, I got the final say on the name of the ship, I suppose the least I can do is give you final say on the crew.” She begins to write ‘approved’ at the top of the file, flipping through each one before giving him a pointed look. “But when I get angry calls about how you approved a bunch of nobodies and two people not even old enough to drink, I’m transferring them straight to your crystal.”

“And I will not be answering a single one.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Captain.”

#davenport #taako #lup #magnus burnsides #lucretia #barry bluejeans #merle highchurch #taz balance #the stolen century #my works

[chelleztjs18]

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 4

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

GIF: I do not own this GIF. Found it on gifimage.net

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

All chapters

Today is Wednesday but not just a regular Wednesday. It’s the day of the meeting with Elizabeth Olsen and her manager, Jane Vernon.

Your phone alarm sounds break the silence in your room slowly but sure it gets louder enough to motivate you to start the day. You woke up with mixed feelings. Excited yet nervous at the same time. You turn on some music. Sunset Lover - Petit Biscuit starts to play and you get ready. After a fresh shower, you put on just enough nude color makeup then you go to your walk-in closet to pick a close-fitting button up white shirt with burgundy stripes and black slim fit women's suit and trousers with burgundy open toe high heels that match with your nails color since it’s your favorite color. You get your side parted wavy medium length burgundy colored hair done that makes it flow down to your shoulder. You may be the type of girl who doesn’t really like to put on much makeup, but you take your hair, clothings and nails pretty seriously as well as your perfume.

As soon as you are all ready and putting your heels on while sitting on a little sofa in the middle of your closet, your phone rings. You guessed that it’s Mitchel and you are right. 

“Good morning darling.” You answered as you continued to put on your shoes. “Oh wow, that's the spirit! Good morning love! Are you excited for today? Are you ready?” said Mitchel on the other end. “Well, yeah but no but also yeah that I’m all ready to go.” You replied while you took another look in front of the mirror and slowly twirled to make sure you looked good. Then you spray a little bit of perfume and you are ready to go downstairs while still on the phone. “Okay great. I will see you over there, I want to say hi to Jane. Everything will be okay. Don't be nervous, okay Y/n?” Mitchel tried to make you feel better. “Thank you Mitchel. I appreciate it. I’m leaving soon so I’ll see you there. Bye.” You grab your medium size leather purse and go downstairs.

As usual, your mom is already awake, sitting on the big living room couch. “Morning Ma. I have a meeting this morning. It shouldn’t be that long but you know Mitchel, he might want to have brunch after that but just call me if you need anything, okay? Love you Ma.” You gave her a hug and went to the garage. “Okay hun. Good luck. Love you too.”

You put on your prescription aviator style sunglasses, blast some music to amp you up started by White Lies - Odesza then start driving. The sun was up but not too bright, the traffic wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be so you arrived there a little too early. 

As you walked into the lobby you saw a coffee shop so you decided to get some ice coffee for you. Just when your order is ready and you are about to grab it, you notice a familiar face whose order is ready too. It was Lizzie grabbing her order. Eye contact was caught between you two and you gave a smile just to be friendly and she replied with a nod and small smile. You recognize her even though her long dirty blonde hair flawlessly covers both sides of her face and she is wearing sunglasses that were intended to cover her face so she won’t be recognized. You both walk towards the elevator and blend in with a group of people in the elevator. You saw her pressed the floor button then she dived back into whatever she was doing with her phone. The elevator stopped on your floor, some people went out to go to other offices which are on the same floor as Vernon’s office. Lizzie went out as well but she stopped in front of the elevator to answer a phone call so she didn’t know that you both actually have the same destination to meet Jane.

After you greeted and talked to Aaron, Jane’s assistant, he informed you to wait in the waiting room. Few minutes later, you heard that Lizzie came in and was told the same thing as you were. She is sitting on the chair across you talking on the phone with her best friend about the plan to meet up after the meeting, while you are browsing on your phone and enjoying your ice coffee you can feel that sometimes she takes a quick glance once or twice at you without knowing who you are and why you are there. 

“I don’t even wanna be here. I still think it’s a stupid idea to get me another personal assistant. This already made me upset to begin with and it’s just gonna make me not like this person already even though I know it’s not her fault to get hired by Jane.” She tried to talk as quietly as possible but not quite enough for you not to be able to hear it. Aaron came and told her that she can come into the meeting room. “I gotta go, I’ll see you later after the meeting. Bye.”

She hangs up then proceeds to follow Aaron to the meeting room. After what you heard, you can only chuckle to yourself knowing this is not gonna be easy work between you both. Aaron comes for your turn. “Ms. Y/l/n, they are ready for you. You can come this way.” Aaron guides you to the meeting room. You smiled and thanked him as he opened the door for you.

You come into the meeting room that has large windows around it that give natural light and a pretty sky view decorated with clouds and top of skyscrapers of L.A with the trails of the streets and cars that look so small from up here. You see Lizzie is sitting next to Jane with Mitchel sitting in front of them, parted by a big rectangle glass table. 

“Y/n darling! You made it!” Mitchel came to you and gave you a cheek to cheek kiss as always. “Hi Mitch. I’m glad to be here.” You smiled.

“Come, let me introduce you to these fabulous ladies. Jane, Lizzie this is Y/n Y/l/n. She is my best friend slash the best personal assistant you are looking for. Y/n, this is Elizabeth Olsen and her manager Jane Vernon.” Mitch proudly introduces you to them. 

“Nice to meet you Y/n, Mitch talked a lot about you once he knew I was looking for a professional assistant. I hope you don't mind me calling you by your first name.” While Jane offered her hand for a friendly handshake yet felt so formal, you can see from the corner of your eyes Lizzie’s jaw dropped a little, looking at you up and down realizing you might have heard what she said on the phone earlier about you. “The pleasure is mine Mrs. Vernon and yeah I don't mind you calling me by my first name” You gave a firm professional handshake and smiled. “You can call me Jane.”

You then slightly turn your head to Lizzie and her beautiful green eyes are now so easily noticeable by you without her sunglasses on. “Ms. Olsen, It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled and tried to stay professional even though you know how she feels about this meeting and about you. There is an awkward vibe from Lizzie towards you since she thinks you heard her conversation but her stubbornness about this whole thing is bigger than the awkwardness itself that made the friendly Lizzie respond a little cold to you. “Thanks, same here.” She gave you a quick handshake but you can feel the softness of her skin even though just for a few seconds.

The four of you take a seat. “So Y/n, this is not an interview because practically you are already hired because I read your resume plus the reference from Mitch here. I gotta admit, it’s pretty impressive. Lots of years of experience working in this field, you have worked with big names in Hollywood. You speak five languages and that’s another big plus. We have this meeting just so we can sign the contract and agreement. I believe Mitch already gave you the details of Do’s and Don'ts and our expectation specially from Lizzie here.” Jane explained while she was looking at your resume then slid some papers in front of you on the table for you to take a look at it.

“Well, to be honest what I wanted was actually simple, I don’t want any new personal assistant but Jane insisted on giving it a try, so here I am. So, I hope you are as great as your resume Y/n to make my try worth it.” Lizzie said it in a quite firm tone with the best pretend smile she can do. Deep down she hoped what she just said would’ve just made you change your mind.

“Ha Ha Lizzie was just joking. Isn’t she funny?” Jane laughed awkwardly and tried to give Lizzie a look about what she said. 

“Is that so, Ms.Olsen? Don’t you worry about it. I hope the way I work and the way I do my job suits you.” You gazed at her eyes before you gave a fake smile. You tried to remind yourself in your mind that you respect Mitch and don’t want to put him in a hard time with his client even though Jane is a good friend of his otherwise your reaction would be different.

“This is the contract, it will be only for two years but it might be for less than that. If it does change to less than two years, there will be a notice in advance. It can also be terminated early if there is a mutual decision by both parties. All of this is written in it. It says you acknowledged and  agreed with what I just informed you. You can sign on every section that’s marked X” Jane explained all the details while she showed each point. You read everything, gazed at Lizzie’s mesmerizing green eyes and gave a little smirk to her then signed each section. As you can see, this clearly upset Lizzie.

“Okay, everything is good. In this envelope, there are all Lizzie’s schedules, addresses and numbers. Plus all lists what she likes and dislikes. Sometimes you need to drive with her, sometimes you don't have to. I’m sure you know the drill, but just a friendly reminder that everything is confidential, especially all Marvel related. You can start on Friday. I guessed that’s all. Welcome to our family Y/n. We are thrilled that you joined us here, right Lizzie?” Jane finalized everything with another handshake with you and Mitchel. “Yeah, sure. Now if you guys excuse me, I gotta go right now. Sorry.” Lizzie put a tiny smile in the corner of her lips, waved goodbye then left in a rush and looked upset.”

As soon as Lizzie left and the door was closed, Jane apologized. “Ummm, Mitchel, Y/n I’m truly sorry for how Lizzie acted earlier. Trust me, she is actually a very sweet, genuine and friendly person. That’s the reason I have been her manager and agent for years, she’s like a sister to me. It’s just that she sometimes can be very determined or stubborn with what she wants or what she doesn't want and not afraid to show it but I’m sure she will slowly understand why I need to have Y/n’s help. She just has anxiety when she has to adjust or deal with new people. I hope you guys can understand.”

“Don’t worry about that Jane. I have met Lizzie and I know how sweet she is. Like I told you before, Y/n has her own way of working and don't be surprised with how straight forward she is plus she doesn't sugar coat things. She is eccentric in a good way. Right Y/n?” He nudged your arm and smiled.

“Haha. yeah sure Mitch.” You answered jokingly. “I guess we better get going. Thank you Jane. Nice seeing you as always.” You and Mitch bid farewell to Jane and left. “Bye guys. See you again.” Jane walked back to her office room.

“Mitchel, what the hell was that? Why did she act like that? On top of all, why didn’t you tell me that she actually didn’t want an assistant?!” You tried to whisper so nobody at the office heard as you both were walking out of the office.

“Yeah about that, I forgot to tell you. I’m sorry. “ Mitch squinted his eyes waiting because he was worried how your reaction was gonna be.

“You are lucky we are best friends otherwise I wouldn’t sign that contract and would’ve said NO on the spot after what she said. I already don’t like her. This is not gonna be easy.” You said it jokingly but it has a little bit of truth in it.

“Haha. I love you too!” Mitch replied happily, knowing you would help him no matter what. Both of you parted, continue with your days.

Ch. 5

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic #lizzie olsen #lizzie olsen x reader #lizzie olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen fluff #lizzie olsen fluff #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fluff #scarlet witch x reader #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn

[maddieinwonder]

The Seventh

Slight Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None at all

Word Count: 1.6k

Plot: Reader hears a lot of rumours about the BAU before she applies to join the team. (Part 2 here!)

Author's Note: I love the idea of the BAU being notorious in the FBI, because honestly, they totally would be! And I would be lying if I said I've never crushed hard irl on a mysterious genius boy...

Masterlist

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

Before you decided to join the BAU, you had heard all kinds of gossip about its members. It was a hot topic among your colleagues, but you could hardly blame them for the shameless act, when you left one ear open for it yourself.

Professionally, if they weren't called the BAU, people called them the "serial killer guys", since they couldn't seem to escape them in their cases. But among your lunch group, they were called "The Seven".

It was an embarrassing name in your opinion, too easily implying that the BAU was elite, untouchable. But the more you learned about them, the more you thought there could some truth to it.

Number One was SSA Hotchner, the unit chief known for his stone cold attitude. You heard a rumour that he once threatened the BAU section chief without so much as batting an eye. Anybody else would have been fired on the spot, but it seemed that Hotchner was so unrivalled in his job that he was asked to stay anyway.

Hotchner's opposite was SSA Rossi, who seemed to be the more "human" of the two, but that didn't make him any less intimidating. He was famous both in and out of the FBI, having built the BAU from the ground up, and written multiple best-selling books about criminal analysis. Why he decided to return to the BAU was a mystery to everyone, but you had a feeling he actually missed it.

Then there was SSA Prentiss. Everyone's consensus was that she seemed nice, but ultimately professional. People theorised that her political upbringing made her into a politician herself, but you once saw her in the BAU office laughing so hard that tears started rolling down her cheeks, and that's when you decided she couldn't be as stiff as the rest made her out to be.

SSA Morgan was the one everybody liked, on a shallow level at least. All your fingers and toes weren't enough to count how many people you knew had a crush on him. You've seen grown women visibly swoon when he walked by, which was partially hilarious for you, but also partially embarrassing for womenkind. You could see the appeal, somewhat, but he wasn't your speed.

Your favourite was JJ. Jennifer Jareau was the BAU's communications liaison and the only one you'd dare call a friend. You'd worked with her on multiple cases in the past, and in fact, she was the one who recommended you for the new position. She's a complete sweetheart, but you also knew that she once headshot an unsub right in the BAU office to protect Penelope. That fact only increased your admiration for her.

She was also the one to introduce you to the BAU's infamous technical analyst. You had heard of Penelope Garcia prior to that, but she so rarely emerged from her office that you almost thought she was a myth. The real person was unlike an FBI agent at all, always donning some combination of bright colours, feathers, and/or sparkles. Most people who'd seen her labelled her as a weirdo, but there was something about her, a sense of positivity, that you loved.

Last but not least, the one that slipped under everyone's radar, Dr. Spencer Reid. People didn't talk much about Dr. Reid because, well, there was nothing really to talk about. He was the youngest person to ever join the FBI, had an IQ of 187, and you thought he was far too pretty to be doing a job this terrible, but that's where the conversations usually ended.

Everything that could be said, envied, or admired about the genius had simply been covered already, and he offered no new fodder for the gossip trolls to chew on; he rarely left the office, he didn't mingle with the other departments, and frankly, everyone thought he was socially awkward.

Yet, you found yourself continuously coming back to him in your thoughts. Maybe, subconsciously, you wanted to join the BAU so that you could figure him out.

The first time you met Dr. Reid, he was giving the profile of an unsub to the larger team. His words sped by so quickly, yet with so much insight and detail that you found yourself scrunching your face in concentration in order to get it all, and that impressed you.

You had always been a quick study but you instantly knew that Dr. Reid would be a challenge, both professionally and personally, and you hadn't even got to know him yet.

As you submitted the request to join the BAU, you admit that the excitement of that challenge was at the forefront of your mind. And when you were called into SSA Hotchner's office a few months later, the thought rang in your head even louder.

"Agent Hotchner, you called for me?" You asked at his door, suddenly feeling timid in the face of your potential boss.

"Sit down, agent," he said without looking up. As you took a seat, he opened a file that was undoubtedly yours and looked up. His eyebrows were furrowed, but if what you'd heard about him was true, this didn't necessarily mean anything bad. And you were right.

"I have your test results with me," he began. "Firstly, I'd like to congratulate you for scoring the highest in your class." You swore he almost cracked a smile.

"I've also heard a lot about you. Your boss had many good things to say about your work ethic, your field experience, and your commitment to justice," he continued.

Now it was your turn to smile.

"But I want to know the real reason why you want to join the BAU." Your smile faltered slightly, something that you're sure Hotchner would pick up on.

He leaned forward in his desk, purposefully applying pressure on the situation, and you let out a quiet breath in preparation.

"The reason I wanted to join the BAU may not be new to you, but I'm looking for a challenge. I want to make a change." You started. "I understand that those two may be contradictory principles, but I believe I can grow and do a lot of good with the BAU."

"And what if the job gets too much for you?" He asks, a flicker of emotion that I didn't recognise crossing his face.

"I'm prepared for that," you said determinedly. "I may not know what this job will take from me, but I'd like the opportunity to prove that I can grow from it, sir."

Agent Hotchner eyed you for a moment before standing up. "Very well, then." He reached out his hand. "Welcome to the BAU."

You looked at his hand for a second, the shock barely registering, before scrambling to your feet. "Thank you, sir! I won't disappoint you!" You shake his hand grinning.

"And next time, just call me Hotch." He said, this time smiling amusedly at your enthusiasm.

"Got it, and thank you again, sir." You said, excusing yourself from his room with a noticeable skip in your step.

You tried to cool yourself off walking back to your department to share the good news, but the excitement proved too much to hold in when a familiar voice calls out to you.

"Hey babygirl, considering you just came out of Hotch's office with a smile, I'm guessing you're going to be our newest teammate."

You turned around, trying to swallow your giddiness, when you realised that person was none other than SSA Morgan.

"Agent Morgan," you stuck out your hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you, and yes, I am."

"Derek." He corrected, grinning as he shook your hand. "Looking forward to working closely with you."

"Just call him Morgan. Don't need to get too close to this player." SSA Prentiss nudged Derek out of the way, raising her hand to meet yours. "I'm Emily Prentiss."

You giggled at their closeness.

The rest of the introductions quickly followed, including hugs from JJ and Penelope, and a starstruck moment when Rossi left his office to personally welcome you to the team. But there was one person whom you hadn't formally met yet.

Dr. Reid had finally separated his head from his work amidst the commotion (plus a very strong encouragement from one Mr. Derek Morgan to "go get her, pretty boy") and walked up to you, a nervous gait in his step.

He stuck his hand out to your surprise, having heard that the doctor was a tad germaphobic, and shook yours. "Dr. Spencer Reid," he said. "But you can call me Spencer, everyone else does."

"Nice to meet you, Spencer." You tried out the foreign name on your tongue. "Honestly, I'm quite a fan of your academic papers. I'm looking forward to working with you."

You knew the genius was a bit awkward, but he instantly turned beet red at your words and retracted his hand. The thought that this was the first time somebody had complimented him this way made you a little sad. But you thought his reaction was incredibly cute, and apparently so did the rest.

"Pretty boy, pret-ty boy, is that how you should react around a lady?" Derek sing-songed, putting his arm around the poor genius' shoulders, tugging him down.

JJ shot you an apologetic look for her childish teammates, while the rest joined in to poke fun at Spencer. Although he was frowning, his voice betrayed no hints of annoyance. Clearly they were all very close.

You laughed along, feeling a growing warmth in your chest, and wondered if you'd be a part of this family in the future.

But first, you’d have to get used to being the Eighth.

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

(Part 2 here!)

#mads fics #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #cm fic #cm fanfic #bau #aaron hotchner #hotch #derek morgan #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia

[girlgrouptrash101]

Lisa (Blackpink) as Your Girlfriend

Request: “HEADCANON’s are my thing. Can I request Lisa as your girlfriend, please?”

A/N: lovesick girls SOTY,,, that’s all i have to say

- C

Get ready to be treated like royalty,, miss manoban won’t settle for anything less when it comes to her baby

Lisa is always romantic, whether its taking you our for a candle-lit, romantic dinner or just staying at home and slow dancing around the living room together

Your guys’ apartment would be the perfect blend of both your tastes, with a gorgeous, retro, red jukebox in the living room that you and Lisa play music from whenever you’re at home

You have a big photograph wall in your room of all the memories you’ve had together,, with most of the pictures being taken by your very own personal photographer Lisa hehe

her camera goes everywhere with her, and she has millions of photos of you that you’ve never even seen, as Lisa loves to keep them to herself so she can look through them when she’s away and misses you

the rest of the pinks are basically your best friends, and they basically knew you before they even met you, thanks to Lisa’s constant gushing over how amazing you are and how lucky she is to be with you :’]

you’re always invited to their shows and concerts,,, and the absolute joy you get seeing all Lisa’s fans scream for her knowing she all yours at the end of the day simply cannot be put into words

on long days before comebacks, you often find yourself heading to Blackpink’s practice room with snacks in hand, reminding the girls to stop overworking themselves and put their health first!

Lisa always teaches you her new dances, even if you have two left feet lol

she loves watching you learn, and after a few months she’s really helped you improve - even if most of you lessons end up to you and her dancing to crazy frog around the practice room like maniacs

the most fun dates!! Like one time you and Lisa went to every single ice cream parlour in your city and reviewed each one to find out which one had the best ice cream around

like YES you were both stuffed and couldn’t touch ice cream for about a month after because you hadn’t recovered... but it was still worth it

the two of you also love to pack a picnic and a blanket, taking a drive out to the big fields in the country side

there’s nothing else around you for miles, just you, Lisa and the sound of birds as they fly by and nest in trees, the two of you just enjoying the blissful break from city life

Plus you get to make daisy chains and talk about the most random things as you lounge on the blanket you packed, completely at ease with life and with one another

you love talking to Lisa so much; your conversation can honestly range from questioning the creation of humanity to talking about your favourite flavour of ice cream (mint choco team rise up)

she always does that little thing with her thumb when she holds your hand, rubbing her thumb ever so softly across the back of your hand and it makes your heart go dsfjksskl

gives the BESTEST hugs ever omg

her head rests on top of yours as she loops her arms around her waist and yours drape around her shoulders, your head against her chest or on her shoulder as she holds you tight against her

also gives A+ cuddles too, she’s like your own personal teddy bear that you can just never pull away from,,, she’s too warm and soft,, you always end up spending hours in her arms whenever you can

INTENSE JUST DANCE BATTLES IN THE LIVING ROOM

rumour has it you almost broke your knees trying to beat Lisa at the rasputin dance - spoiler alert, she still won like she always does jndsfdklds

shopping dates!! which are actually really fun,, Lisa always picks out something for the both of you that’s absolutely ABSURD, and when you go and try it on the two of you end up cracking up with laughter

don’t tell anyone but half the time when Lisa buys clothes for herself she goes for things that you would like in hopes that you borrow them off her... because YOU... in HER CLOTHES... she might just cry uwu

dating Lisa and accidentally becoming a parent to all FOUR of her cats.. good luck i guess xoxo

she loves taking you to Thailand to meet her family, and bringing you to all her favourite spots as a child, wanting to make new memories there with you by her side

she’s also one to show up on your doorstep with two plane tickets and a suitcase packed for you - she doesn’t even tell you where you’re going, but she always has a plan and brings you on the most memorable and life changing trips around the world

she just wants to make so many memories with you and switch things up when you least expect; Lisa loves to keep you on your toes

plus,,,, more memories = more stories to tell your kids when you get to that milestone in the future

which Lisa definitely sees happening, she’s never, ever leaving you behind, it would be a crime to lose a love as strong as yours.

NSFW From Here:

kind of a service top tbh,,, like this girl just wants her baby to be feeling good and satisfied

will have her way with you any time any place though,, like she always catches you so off guard - you could be just cooking dinner and then all of a sudden she’s crept up behind you and her hand is down your pants

“and I’ll do it again” - Lisa after eating you out on the kitchen counter top x

It drives her fucking insane when you moan out her name, and it only spurs her on to fuck you harder and faster, listening to each heavenly scream spill from your lips

less into sending you nudes and more into sending you steamy choreographies that she’d been practicing just for you

Lisa feels the best when she’s dancing, and she knows just how worked up you get when you watch her dancing to something sexy, so she never hesitates to invite you to the practice room when she knows she’s going to be putting on a show

which usually ends up with you against the practice room mirror, begging for Lisa to go harder and harder - probably scaring away everyone else in the YG building </3

definitely has a rainbow coloured strap on because gay rights 

tbh you couldn’t care less what colour it is - you don’t even know anything except Lisa’s name when she’s using it, each thrust driving you closer and closer to that glorious edge

Lisa absolutely LOVES when you take care of her too, especially after a long day of schedules when she just gets to come home and ride your face until she crashes from tiredness

her favourite thing in the world is getting eaten out, her long legs wrapping around your head to keep her close to her core while her head is thrown back in pleasure

i could definitely see her being into wax play too, mainly because she think its so gorgeous,, the hot wax melting onto your skin and creating a beautiful picture on her favourite canvas

Lisa in thigh high boots......... and deep red lingerie........... thinking so many thoughts

absolutely LOVES receiving/sending nudes, and she saves every single one in a locked folder for her to look back on when she’s busy on tour and missing your touch 

and don’t be surprised if you get a facetime call in the middle of the night, filled with Lisa’s whines and moans as she touches herself over the phone, driving you crazy knowing you can’t be there to please her the way she so clearly desires

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