#Hard Luck Hank

[connorboyyy]

This is how I feel trying to be normal in my day to day even though I wanna talk about dbh sooooooo bad

[saucy-mesothelioma]

Is there any piece of British media you enjoy a lot? I want to learn the British accent (for my career, ofc) and it's the best way to get myself into it

Ooh, that's a really intriguing question, and I'd love to hear about your career if you don't mind sharing because it sounds interesting! I like to do voiceovers for a hobby so I definitely get the importance of having media to compare and go off of. Of course, I have no clue about specific accents so you might have to do additional research if you need a very specific region, but I'll try my best to give a few pieces of media that might be able to help.

•The Magnus Archives/The Magnus Protocol: It's a horror podcast about an institute that takes in statements on the paranormal, and has a wide array of characters to use for reference. And since it's an audio performance, it might be easier to pick up inflections and things like that. Not to mention it's incredibly entertaining.

•The Outlaws: I never got around to finishing this show, but it's pretty good. It's about a group of people doing community service that end up getting involved in a drug gang ring. It's pretty funny even though quite a bit of the comedy comes from second-hand embarrassment, but it's definitely not bad.

•End of the F***ing World: That's another show I haven't finished primarily because I was watching it with my brother. From what I can remember, it's about two kids (one a moody teen girl and the other a teen boy who thinks he's a psychopath) who run off to find the girl's estranged father. Unfortunately, I don't remember much about it, but from what I do know it was entertaining.

•Extras: It's sort've like The Office (in fact it was written and stars two of the guys who wrote the UK Office) but it follows a guy who's trying to become a prominent actor and fails miserably. It's got a lot of guest appearances and it's a relatively short series as well. I personally hate shows like The Office, but this was one I liked.

•Haunting of Bly Manor: Not as good as Haunting of Hill House in my opinion, but it's still an incredibly good although short horror series. It's about a woman who goes to care for two kids for their uncle after they were orphaned. It'll definitely be entertaining to watch and it's worth a try.

•Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Radio Show/TV Series: You already know what Hitchhiker's Guide is so I won't explain it, but if I had to choose one or the other to suggest I would go with the radio show. The TV series is amazing, don't get me wrong, but for your purposes I find that audio-only pieces of media would work best. This is the version I prefer to listen to.

•Anything Monty Python: I can't guarantee that this would be the best source because it genuinely might be too entertaining. I fuckin love Monty Python with everything I have and there's not much I can say about it because it's just something you have to experience.

Of course, you can also look towards prominent British actors like Tim Curry, Angela Lansbury, and John Oliver, which is something I would suggest doing as well. Personally another thing that I've found to be helpful is also practicing a transatlantic accent, which is basically halfway between an American accent and a British accent. The only two people I can think of off the top of my head that have a very good transatlantic accent are Vincent Price and David Ogden Stiers (specifically as his role as Charles Winchester in M*A*S*H), so that might be some good warm-up. Hopefully this was of some help!

[inconspicuouspotatosack]

relatable :( audhd here, frequently overwhelmed in conversations with other a(u)dhders. I'm typically relatively... content (?) to let my friends monologue, bc I don't have much to say (bc my brain is too busy being devoted to processing incoming information to formulate any original thoughts of my own). but frustration arises in situations where I Finally have something to say, perhaps even a Relevant Anecdote, and am Trying to contribute but don't feel like i can get in a word edgewise. like okay well. i DID have something to say and did Try to say it but no one heard me and now we've already moved at least 3 degrees of separation from the topic i had a comment on 30 seconds ago and it's Irrelevant now🙃

i've talked to a couple of friends about it but i will not lie, it is Scary trying to determine if they'd be understanding bc of the whole ADHD Baggage thing (which i Also have. i used to monologue like a motherfucker and then a combo of ppl impolitely telling me to stop being so chatty and also autistic burnout which slowed my processing power down by a not insignificant margin.... anyway.) it definitely has gone better when I tried broaching the subject when it was Not Actively Happening, i.e. pulling them aside to initiate the conversation.

the convos that I've had with my friends abt it went something along the lines of "hey I've been having some frustration recently, it's not a Big Deal right now but i wanted to talk about it before it Becomes a big deal. Ive been feeling a bit left out of our conversations for xyz reasons and would really appreciate if you could (slow down / give me some more gaps in conversations to allow me to catch up / make efforts to actively seek my input and give me time to say my piece without interrupting/etc) and otherwise try to consciously include me"

one particular friend was very understanding and was like "yeah i definitely do that, sorry it's been affecting you like this and thank you for letting me know!" It doesn't always Fix The Problem of course, and the people that care about us sometimes need reminders. it's a balancing act! but usually, if I've already talked to them about it, they're happy to accommodate.

and i have Also had situations where I've just been at the end of my rope and snapped a bit and been like "I'm sorry but i really need to be about Me right now" altho that was after we had already had the Discussion about it. and tbh I don't believe it would have gone over as well as it did if we hadn't had that conversation first.

basically in my experience. it's important to bring it up Separately and Not when you're actively experiencing those frustrations. the ppl who care about us are often even appreciative when you bring these things up, because it shows that you trust them enough to communicate your needs to them and having the Difficult Conversations can potentially strengthen the friendship. your friends Don't Want you to feel left out!

I have noticed this problem hanging out with a couple of different friends with ADHD. They talk so much and so fast, I have trouble processing it, I don't feel like they leave space for me in the conversation and I end up feeling quite overwhelmed, and also a bit neglected because I feel like they did like 80% of the talking and they didn't ask about me or bring me in. (and then sometimes when I DO talk they get excited about what I'm saying and interrupt me.)

I love these ppl and I care about what they have to say, but it makes one on one time hard and then I hit a wall and have to end the hang out. I KNOW the answer is to just express my needs and say "hey you're talking a bit too much/too fast and I'm struggling to keep up/don't feel heard/don't feel like you're making space for me" but I also know that oft times ppl w adhd have been made to feel bad about this exact phenomena and I don't want to add to that feeling.

How best to balance this? How best to broach it with a minimum of hurt feelings? How to convince myself that my need for them to slow down and throw me a conversational bone is just as important as their need to be comfortable expressing themselves naturally? All advice/thoughts/experiences welcome, esp if you yourself have been the excited over talker in this scenario.

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 1: A SILENT DOG & STILL WATERS

synopsis: the soviet union has been producing robots for a long time based on a miracle compound: polymer. but that was invented in 1941. the current year is 2038, and, due to rising tensions in the arctic, americans aren't as kind to soviets as they once were. it's too bad you're a russki, and it's really too bad that you work in cybersecurity. and honestly, with the case fowler has put you on, you're at risk of losing your job. it doesn't help that you're stuck with lieutenant hank anderson and some new android apparently called connor.

word count: 2.6k

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

notes: based on an au i literally had a dream about. it's basically d:bh with elements of atomic heart :P this ch. is half exposition and half hank being an alcoholic lolololol

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

The Soviet Union had always been very good at spying on and stealing American technology. They did so with the atomic bomb, the B-29 superfortress, and the space shuttle – with no lack of effort on America’s side of trying to keep them secret. 

But one thing set the USSR above the rest: polymer. A miracle compound that formed the backbone for every technological evolution that came after. It mimics a human neuron, including its ability to interpret input signals. With tinkering from top Soviet scientists (and a whole lot of luck), a gigantic neural network was established, the maximum computing power of which was orders of magnitude higher than the power of a conventional network.

With polymer, the Soviets reigned supreme as the only real international superpower. The other countries could play at being powerful, but the USSR was top dog – and she wasn’t keen on letting the others forget.

But that was in the past. And the past is boring. That was in 1941, and something you learn about in history class. Polymer is now regularly sold and traded and built upon and shared. After the Cold War ended, it was expanded outwards and is no longer a precious commodity. It was even needed to build a modern technology – androids. Ones that could pass the Turing test, unlike the TER-A1 Tereshkova (which was a human-looking robot, sure, but one that had an unsettling, unmoving mask for a face). 

And androids are simply better than Soviet bots. They’re versatile and able to be mass-produced without specialization development. They’re not big and clunky like the chimpanzee-esque MA-9 Belyash and can still accomplish the same installation, plumbing, and welding work. They can do the same agricultural work an ARU-31/6 Rotorobot can do without the risk of accidentally endangering humans while in use.

Again, they’re simply better. In the current year of 2038, American androids just trump similar Soviet tech in every way.

But that doesn’t mean that the Soviets aren’t still trying. They’ve invaded the Arctic with intent to claim the land, heavy with NA-T256 Natasha bots and the claim that the “heavy-duty ground-based loader bots can squeeze up to five liters of blood from a human body in under twenty seconds,” as a deterrent to American forces.

And this action has made your workplace a hell away from home.

Even though you immigrated from Chelomey, Russia to Detroit, Michigan in 2027, before all this business went down, people still eyed you warily – like you secretly enjoyed living under communism and the ever-watching eye of the Kremlin. Like you were just itching to get your grubby little paws on American secrets so you could report them to Comrade Molotov and a beautiful girl back home called Katya. Yeah, right.

These small, under-the-breath and glance-of-the-eye accusations weren’t helped by your current occupation: as a screen jockey for the Head of Cybersecurity of the Detroit Police. They acted like you hadn’t worked just as hard as everyone else for your position – for your polymer glove and the privileges that came with it.

Polymer gloves have come a long way from their prototype in 1955. They’re a single fingerless glove – one glove, as a person doesn’t need two – with an adjustable wrist strap. In the middle of the palm is a small silver star that can retract to expose prehensile, tentacle-like wires that can interface with terminals and other technology. 

But it doesn’t stop there – with a single gesture (holding your hand out and making an “L” shape) the glove can scan the surroundings of the user. Paired with an artificial polymer retina, the user can have information about the environment that they otherwise wouldn’t have. 

And, of course, you’re outfitted with the top versions of both – on the precinct’s credit card, obviously. 

But, again, you’re just a screen jockey. One of the best, but still just a worker bee that reports to a higher-up. There’s little to no interaction with the other departments, as cybersecurity is mostly isolated without any related crimes. Maybe cyberterrorism, but cases of that are few and far between. 

And you thought that’s all you’d ever be until you heard Fowler’s bellowing voice call your last name.

When you pop your head up from behind your terminal, you see him standing halfway through the glass door to his office. You swallow and trot over, a nervous idea tickling the back of your mind. Is he mad? Did you do something wrong? Shit… did you accidentally leak something?

You push open Fowler’s door and slowly shut it behind you. He’s sitting behind his desk, stark against the blue-grey backdrop of the wall behind him. His constantly furrowed brow and permanent frown lighten a little when he sees you.

You fold your hands behind your back politely. “Yes, sir?”

Fowler gestures to the seat in front of his desk. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. You definitely did something wrong.

You walk over and sit in the chair. It screeches with a horrible sound.

You lean back in the chair and cross your arms. “What is this about, sir?”

Fowler leans back in his chair and drags a hand down his face. Immediately, the worst things pop into your head. You fight the urge to worry your bottom lip. 

“You have experience with androids, yes?” Fowler asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question – rather, a statement.

“Yes, sir.” You nod.

“And you have experience with Lieutenant Hank Anderson?” 

Your eyebrows furrow a little, but you still nod. “Yes, sir.”

Fowler turns to his terminal. “How do you feel about him?”

You bite your bottom lip as you think, then let it slip from your teeth. “I don’t know what you want me to say. He’s my friend. He is still a valuable member of the force, even if he has presented a few problems in the past couple of years.”

Fowler laughs. “A few?”

“Ah…” You smile, but it’s a bit forced. “More than a few. A lot. More problems than solutions, if I’m being honest.”

“That’s just how it goes sometimes.” He shrugs and sighs. “Do you know about the new case he’s been assigned?”

“Yes, sir,” you say. “He won’t shut up about it.”

He hums and leans forward, resting his chin on folded hands. “Always one for discretion, that one.”

You duck your head, instead looking down at your lap. “Yeah. But I think he can do better – be the cop he was before.”

“An optimistic Soviet.” Fowler laughs lowly. “That’s a new one.”

You just clench your jaw and meet his eyes. “What is this about? If you’ve called me in just to poke fun at me and gossip about Hank, I’d like to go back to my desk. Uh, sir.”

“No, no.” He holds a hand up. “Tell me what you’ve heard about Hank’s case.”

You think for a second. “Deviant androids murdering their owners. It sounds like it would’ve been labeled self-defense if it was a human-on-human crime, but…” you shrug. “I’m not in Homicide. I’m in Cybersecurity.”

“Well, you’re getting some experience.” Fowler pulls a cord from his terminal, one you recognize as a port compatible with a polymer glove. “You’re on the case.”

“I’m on the case?!” You repeat in disbelief. “Sir, I – I don’t –”

He holds up a hand for the second time. “I don’t want to hear it. You’re the best screen jockey with the most field experience I can spare.”

He gestures with the cord still in his hand. “Now, c’mon. Jack in and download the files.”

You swallow your objections and outstretch your gloved left hand. The thin metal of the star retracts, and the prehensile wires extend towards the port, waving like blades of grass. The ends of all six find their homes in the port, still wiggling like black tapeworms. 

Documents appear in the corner of your eye, one after another, like pop-up ads. You blink hard to dismiss them, then disconnect.

Fowler feeds the cord back into his terminal, then leans back in his chair. 

He looks over at you. “What’s that one saying you Soviets say? Something about champagne.”

You look up at him, then down to your glove. The star retracts, then goes back to its original position, like it was winking at you. “He who doesn’t take risks won’t drink champagne.”

“Well, I hope you have a taste for harder liquor,” Fowler says. “Hank’s at having a drink somewhere nearby. Go find him.”

And Lord, did you know right where to find Hank. 

On the door to Jimmy’s Bar is a firm warning, reading: NO ANDROIDS ALLOWED – OWNERS WILL BE PROSECUTED. You just hope that they don’t extend the same kindness to russkis. 

When you open the door, everyone in the bar turns to look at you. You nod and, once they see who you are, turn back to their conversations or nursing their drinks. 

You spot Hank at the bar with what looks like a Tennessee whiskey. You sidle up onto the barstool next to him, easing into the creaky seat. As you drape your rain-speckled coat on the back of the chair, you glance at the clock on the wall. It reads just before twenty past eleven.

“Bartender?” You call. Your thick accent immediately catches his attention, and so does the money you slide onto the bartop. “Vodka, please.”

The bartender, presumably Jimmy, picks up a bottle of Stolichnaya from the shelving behind him. “This good?”

You nod. “More than good.”

He pours vodka into a tumbler glass, then pushes it across the bar. You accept it readily, and the tiny sip you take gives your throat a nice burn on the way down.

“A Soviet and vodka,” Hank mumbles against the lip of his glass. “Like a moth to a flame.”

“It’s what my mother served with dinner,” you say. “I’m just glad Jimmy’s got enough sense not to keep us from his bar.”

Hank chuckles and raises his glass to that.

“Fowler’s gone beyond the pale.” You sip at your drink. “Have you heard?”

“Yup.” He sighs, setting his drink on the bartop harder than necessary. “Don’t know why a kid like you has business with an old timer like me.”

“Oh, believe me,” you say, your voice heavy with sarcasm. “It’s nice to visit, but it’s better to be home. I don’t know what he’s thinking. A Cybersecurity worker partnering up with someone in Homicide? Next, we’ll have androids doing our thinking and philosophy instead of our laundry and dishes.”

Hank snorts into his drink. “Hell, with all these runaways? They might as well be.”

“I mean, I can see his line of thinking.” You swirl the vodka in your glass, watching the way it catches and reflects the low light of the bar. “Cybersecurity, androids… makes sense, but me? A russki? With all that’s happening in the Arctic? If we don’t do well, my job is on the line.”

Hank sips his whiskey. “It really sounds like Fowler’s settin’ you up to fail.”

“Setting us both up to fail.” You correct and mirror him, sipping at your vodka. 

The sound of the door opening and the rain outside cuts into your conversation. Nothing you’d usually take a glance at, but what puts you off is the sudden silence of the bar. Bars shouldn’t be silent – especially not Jimmy’s.

You look over your left shoulder and see a nice looking man that’s just walked through the door. He looks a bit dorky, sure, and a bit like a lost puppy dog, but that could look nice on certain guys. And the asymmetrical tuft of loose hair that’s escaped his hair gel looks –

There’s a blue triangle just above where his left breast pocket would be. On the other side of his blazer reads RK800 in even, white text. He’s an android, not a man. He meets your gaze and you inhale sharply.

Your eyes return to your drink, and so does Hank’s. This isn’t what you want to deal with right now – or ever, actually. It’s Jimmy’s establishment, so it’s Jimmy’s problem.

But still, as soon as the android saw you, he started making a beeline for you. His footsteps are quick, measured, and even. 

“Excuse me,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder. He addresses you by your title, and your gut clenches.

“No.” You try to wave him off. “No English. Sorry.”

“Officer, you passed each of your TestEaFL’s with flying colors,” he says, narrowing his eyes a little. “You can speak English perfectly fine.”

You cringe a little, but then a thought strikes you – how would this android have access to the scores of your Test of English as a Foreign Language? But before you can ask, he’s turned to Hank and started speaking.

“Oh, Lieutenant Anderson.” He moves so that he’s standing beside Hank. “Just the other person I was looking for.”

He glances between the two of you. “My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife. Captain Fowler said that you were both having a drink nearby. I was lucky to find you at the fifth bar.”

You snort and your eyebrows shoot up. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that there was a hint of… something other than monotone indifference in his voice.

“What do you want?” Hank grinds out.

“You were assigned a case early this evening. A homicide, involving a CyberLife android.” Connor glances at you, like he’s reminding you that you were also assigned this case. “In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators.”

“Well, I don’t need any assistance.” Hank jabs a thumb at you. “I’ve got all the unwanted assistance I need right here, and I don’t need any more. ‘Specially not from a plastic asshole like you. So just be a good lil’ robot and get the fuck outta here.”

“He’s right,” you chime. “And it doesn’t really look good to have androids investigating androids. What if you snap, too?”

“I will not.” Connor meets your eyes, and you can almost see the switch flick in that little android brain. Great, now it’s your turn to be grilled.

He circles so that he’s standing beside you and leans down a little, putting his hand on the bartop. You keep your eyes down, firmly on your drink. 

“I’m sorry, Officer, Lieutenant, but I must insist,” he says. “My instructions stipulate that I have to accompany both of you.”

“You know where you can stick your instructions?” Hank chimes in with a throaty laugh.

You glance over at Connor, who looks thoroughly confused. You smile and bring the glass to your lips. 

“No,” Connor says. “Where?”

Your throat seizes around the sip of vodka you were trying to take, causing you to cough it out as you try to suppress your laughter. You slam down the glass (effectively spilling most of it) and bring a hand to your chest, trying to ride it out as Hank pats your back.

“чёрт возьми!” You wheeze, your voice hoarse. Your chest burns. “Oh, fuck.”

You wipe your eyes as the burn dulls, still coughing slightly. Connor purses his lips before coming to a conclusion. 

“You know what?” He offers. “I’ll buy you both one for the road.”

“You better,” you say. “You made me spill mine.”

“Bartender!” Connor calls, and slips money onto the bartop. “The same again, please.”

“See that, Jim?” Hank says. “Wonders of technology. Make it a double.”

Jimmy pours a healthy amount of Jack Daniels into Hank’s glass, and starts to pour Stolichnaya into yours. You cut him halfway with a raised hand and a “Someone’s gotta drive us home safe.”

You knock back your drink, then let out a low whistle at the nice burn. Hank follows soon after and sighs heavily. 

He leans back and looks over at Connor. “Did you say homicide?”

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello! I was wondering if you could please do newt (platonic/familial) with a younger sibling who makes/mends close and personality wise is similar to Luz from TOH? Thank you! :D

yesyesyesyesyesywsyes omg please keep the maze runner requests coming I'm very very fixated atm kdk how to function, PLEASE SPAM ME W TMR REQS RJNENE ; anyways thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy!! ; post writing robin here, I tried with the personality like Luz but I struggled for some reason so I'm so sorry about that LMAO

NEWT ; clothing maker/mender

summary ; you make and mend clothing around the Glade, and Newt is somehow always there to help

warnings ; language, Newt is still a runner so pre-injury era

genre ; platonic fluff

word count ; 1.1k

masterlist

The day you came up in the box, you were frightened and felt like you didn't fit in with the other kids of the Glade. You were socially awkward and didn't know how to talk to people, although being a people pleaser.

Talking was just hard for you, but luckily, Newt understood. He tucked you under his wing and tried to help you fit in with the others, but to no avail. Nothing was sticking out to you, it wasn't like jobs were supposed to be enjoyable but you truly couldn't fit in anywhere. The fifteen year old boy with dirty blonde hair was there for you, though, reassuring you that actually becoming a Glader, even after remembering your name, took time.

Becoming a Runner was off the table at day one, you had zero stamina and could barely run for shit, let alone your life, you and Newt, and Alby, Minho, and the other Runners quickly agreed upon that. Being a Builder was quickly eliminated as well, because you didn't want to deal with obnoxious assholes like Gally, Hank, and Alec all day long. Plus, you knew nothing about "structural integrity" or whatever the hell they were talking about anyways, wood to hammer to nail was all you saw.

You quickly gained a friendship with Winston after a month or two in the Glade, but no way in Hell were you joining the Slicers either. You'd gain an emotional attachment to the animals much too quickly to then watch them die, the emotional despair would be a bit much at the moment. Bagger was also off the charts, leaving Med-Jack and Track-Hoe on the table for you.

Newt wasn't going to let you become a Slopper, considering you weren't bad at helping people nor farming, you just had to find your thing that you'd be comfortable doing. So, you settled on Track-Hoe as they needed more help in the gardens and you wouldn't mind getting your hands dirty, with dirt, that is. No blood.

You found, or maybe relearned, your nick for sewing one morning as you needed to repair your shirt, and ran straight to Newt with your new talent. After seeing it himself, Newt quickly bounced to Alby's side to ask if you could make mending and making clothes your job. You hadn't had any luck finding a job out of the many in the Glade, clearly, so this might've been your luck turning.

The next coming days were slow. Thankfully, Alby approved your idea of a new job, considering you and Newt wouldn't stop pestering him about it, and it'd be a great convenience to have you around for something as necessary as clothing. The builders graciously built you a little hut next to the Homestead to give you your own little place to go and work, instead of working around the Glade and potentially dirty-ing the clothes you fixed and made.

The hut consisted of a table, a loom, a hanging rack for finished projects, and a little chest system organized by all the threads, needles, etcetera. Alas, Newt was the one to help you with your new job on days when he wasn't running out in the maze. Minho switched him out with Ben or George on those days as per his request, as to help you learn how to talk to and understand the Gladers, whom you didn't understand too well yet.

But, by the time the next Greenie, Henry, arrived, you were right on track. You modeled and measured and patched and sewed your days away, finding peace in the seemingly boring activity. And by this time, Newt had become your brother figure and your best friend, considering how much he understood and supported you and helped you get some great opportunities around the Glade. And now, you were the Keeper of the Seamers, the only worker, but still the Keeper.

After a long day of running in the maze with Minho, Newt jogs to your expansion of the Homestead, desiring your help.

"Hey, Shank" He warmly smiles, closing the door made of sticks behind him. "How's your day been?"

You shrug in response. "Slow. Need me to fix anything for you?"

He awkwardly smiles and nods, looking down at his knees. His cargo pants are ripped, and the skin beneath painted a light red in comparison to his pale complexion, rug burns covering his kneecaps.

"Tripped and fell out in the maze" He explains, "Just don't want them falling apart because it kinda trailed 'round to the back" He says, tracing the little rips around his knees.

You nod. "I mean, the best solution would be keeping them like that or turning them into shorts for hot days. But I know the maze is cold and stuff, so, your call. I don't wanna ruin your running pants but I can always scrounge up new ones, and the next Greenie will be up in two days so it wouldn't be that long of a wait-"

"I'll just keep them ripped" He lightly smiles, cutting your rant off.

He knew damn well to not let you spiral over something so little, so he developed the radar to sniff out when you were about to rant about small things for an hour out of panic. He pats your shoulder before sitting down next to you, looking over at the rack of finished clothing you'd patched up and finished making.

"Oh, were you able to finish that shirt you were making for yourself?" He asks, running a hand through his hair.

Lord, he needed a haircut, although the best method of that was knives, which made it all choppy and blunt. Hopefully, WCKD would send up some cutting shears or something soon. All of your hair needed a cut desperately.

You nod, setting your needle and thread down to go grab it. You pull it off the rack and hold it to your chest. A simple, thin, off white, long sleeved shirt rests against your torso as you cheesily smile at him.

"Looks good"

"Thanks" You put the shirt back on the rack, deciding to put it back in the Homestead near your hammock later.

Newt was usually very supportive and went out of his way to show appreciation and reassurance for you, though making it casual to actually feel real for you. Once he found out that he needed to speak with you like that after reassuring that you'd live without rain, he learned the lesson.

Before you can speak again, Ben runs in, looking for your help.

"Y/n, I ripped up the sleeve of my shirt, can you fix it?" He asks, holding the grey-blue shirt up for you to see

"Yeah, sure, leave it on that table" You reply, pointing at the table in front of you.

"Thanks, you're the best!" He says, setting the shirt on the table before leaving.

Newt looks up at you and smiles, "You're getting used to talking to people, I see"

You nod, catching his infectious smile.

"Welcome to the Glade, Y/n/n"

[honey-minded-hivemind]

I have two questions/requests!

1) Who do you think the worst (X-Men) would be? Who has the worst yandere tendencies and hovers?

2) Thinking about the Batfamily and how they’re one of the few families in DC who can fight really REALLY well without the use of a power. How would X-Men react to a daughter who was raised in the Batfamily and somehow got tossed into their universe? She can fight REALLY well (like Cassandra Cain level) but has NO mutations whatsoever. I feel like Magneto might be a little iffy around her because of her lack of mutation. They would all worry so much lol. Fighting well without a mutation is the equivalent of bringing a knife to a gunfight in their world

I can answer the first one, just not the second, because i don't do DC!

The worst platonic yandere X-Men is hard to pick, but in terms of overprotectiveness, harsh methods, deranged vibes, ability to keep and hunt Reader, and how far they'd go... I can narrow it down to a top five, I think-

Number 5: Jean and Scott. They go together, hand in hand, and both are leaders of the teen X-Men, Jean has the Phoenix Force, telekinetic abilities, mind reading and manipulation, is popular and friendly, and one wouldn't suspect her until it really is too late to go back. Scott can shoot lasers from his eyes, he's a good leader, he's welcoming and a little stern, but can be persuaded to have fun, and is like an older, protective brother, one you can't escape from and who you feel guilty leaving. They have the X-Men to back them up, they have Xavier as a father figure, they have Logan who is like their second proud dad, amd Storm and Hank as well who adore them, not to mention the other X-Teens who back them up and will help them as friends and as teammates. So, yeah, you migh be able to escape, but just barely, and probably have to turn to the dark side to do so...

Number Four: Professor Xavier. He can read minds, control them, use Cerebro to track you whenever you use your powers, and has an entire team and family of mutants who are good fighters, tacticians, and aren't afraid to back down and won't quit until they've got you with them. If he's platonic yandere, well, good luck, so are all of the X-Men, and possibly even Magneto (because if Charles likes someone, Erik will want to as well)! He's inviting, he's soothing, he calming, and he can help you; but he will also keep secrets from you, manipulate you if he thinks you aren't going to stay, and push you to rely on him and the others and see them as family. You will grow emotionally attached, amd it will hurt if you figure out what's happening and what they've tried to hide. But if you run, your only bet is either Magneto and his group, or going where no one can reach you...

Number Three: Wolverine. This guy is nigh unkillable, he has long, metal-coated claws, has heightened hearing, smell, amd sight, can withstand extreme cold, and is super protective, obsessive, and willing to die for you and kill for you. He will make you join his team, he will not let you around people he deems bad influences or dangerous, and he will not stand for you acting or being insubordanate. He won't hurt you, and if he does, it is the last, last resort. He prefers having Xavier and the teens help him, and pushes you and his other wards to be friends, to he family. And if he's interested, well, so is Sabretooth. So if you ran, you won't get far, with either Logan or the teens catching you, or Sabretooth finding you instead. You're very, very scr*wed unless you have a power that helps you in this situation...

Number Two: Sabretooth. He's like Wolverine, but worse. Doubly protective, doubly obsessive, has sharp claws, has fangs, can withstand what Wolverine can, is also near unkillable, and has a temper, too. Don't p*ss him off. There are rules, you better follow them, and you won't be drugged or possibly wounded so you remember why you're still there, and who is the one in charge. If you're hurt or almost killed, he becomes so much gentler, and is treating you almost like glass. If he likes you, Logan is definitely getting involved, and where Logan gets involved, so will Storm and the X-Teens. You will not escape unless it's with the X-Men, and if you go with them, good chance is Victor's watching you all...

Number One: Magneto. He's lost everything, multiple times. His family, his home, his friend, more than once. He's grown to be paranoid, obsessive, cunning, dangerous, and a powerful enemy of the X-Men... He can control metal and the magnetic field. Anything can be a weapon for him. He has a loyal son, a team of Acolytes, Mystique, and the Brotherhood teens, all of whom won't fight back against him and who who what he says. The moment he says you're joining, you're not getting out of it unless by some miracle Xavier hides you with him. But if that isn't the case, you're now stuck where Magneto puts you. If he likes you, that means Pietro and Wanda are trying to see what he finds so fascinating, and that leads them to liking you, albeit begrudingly at first. Then Mystique wonders why he's adding you to their group, spies on you, and is now getting the rest of the Brotherhood to keep an eye on you as well. Someone is always watching you. You feel stressed, unable to sleep, unable to eat. But if you run, if you can't make it to the X-Men, you won't be seen again until you're deemed loyal or unable to leave them... Unless you have Xavier's help, you are not escaping...

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Hank Voight x Fem!Reader Oneshot (Part 2)

TW: Passing mentions of domestic violence

Synopsis: Reader recovers, but a year later, Hank is out of jail and he takes an interest in Reader. Reader doesn’t know how to feel.

You were discharged from the hospital after a few weeks, seeing as you were in no hurry to leave. After that, you went to District 21 with Trudy, filing multiple police reports and filling out so much paperwork that your head spun afterward. Trudy then took you out to get lunch, but you didn’t eat much. She helped you get onto your feet again, letting you stay with her for a few weeks until you could find a job and an apartment.

Truthfully, the job search was hard considering you had no experience, and you had a fifteen year gap in your resume. When you got back to Trudy’s place that night, you felt defeated. You’d been desperate and it showed, not to mention your still partially nourished, bruised body. You barely ate when left to your own devices, and didn’t eat much of whatever Trudy made you. You were grateful, but used to not eating. As you kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your coat, you let out a breath of relief. Being in Trudy’s house made you feel safe, if nothing else. You nearly took care of your coat and shoes before walking in.

“Hey, how was it today?” Trudy asked from the kitchen, stirring a pot of something.

“No luck,” you replied, sitting at the island and putting your head into your hands. “I’m sorry, I really am trying, I just-“

“Hey, that’s enough of that. Don’t worry about it.”

“I feel like I’m taking advantage of you, Trudy. I’m sorry, I should’ve just stayed with him and-“

Trudy quickly turned from the stove, walking over and pulling your hands from your face with a gentle firmness. “That’s enough, (Y/N). I’d rather you be here to take advantage of me than not be living at all. Why don’t you go get a shower and clear your head? Wash it away.”

You nodded as you looked into her eyes. ‘Wash it away’ was a phrase the both of you often used to shake off the events of any given day. “Thank you…” you mumbled, then slowly pulled from her touch and moved upstairs to take a shower.

When you came back downstairs, Trudy had a soup prepared on the table for you. She’d given you just a small bowl, knowing you didn’t eat much at all. “Hey, feeling a little better?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a small nod as you sat down. “Thanks, this smells really good.”

“It’s broccoli cheddar soup with some mini sausages in it. I have some crackers here, too, so feel free to put some in if you want.” Trudy smiled softly and beside you at the table. “And, if you want more, there’s plenty left.”

“Thank you,” you repeated. “It’s so nice to have you… Voight was right to point me this way.”

“Hank knows everyone in one way or another. He was dealing with a lot the day you reached out to him. I remember him talking about how he almost didn’t show up when you asked.”

“What made him come, then?”

“Well, he thought it was some kind of trap by IAD to prove he was working with Maurice. That he was a dirty cop.” Trudy shrugged as she took a spoonful of soup and blew on it. “But, I convinced him that somebody might really be in trouble, and that’s always worth fighting for. We couldn’t risk it if your story was real. Which it was.”

You looked down at the steaming bowl of soup, wondering where you’d be if Hank hadn’t come that day. Probably dead. You looked back up at Trudy and nodded. “Thank you,” you said softly. “I owe you everything.”

“Don’t mention it.” Trudy offered a small smile, which you returned as you took a bite of the soup. “Hey, listen, there’s a spot open at the district for a civilian records keeper. It’s yours if you want it.”

You looked up. “Really…?”

“Yeah, of course. I already cleared it with the commander.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little wider. “I owe you everything, once again.”

Trudy reached across the table to hold your hand. “I only want to see you happy.”

—

10 months later

—

Finally, everything had gone through for your divorce and restraining order. You’d quickly taken to the position in records and although it was tedious work, you loved having it nevertheless. You’d gotten your own apartment close to the district and worked very hard in the meantime to pay Trudy back for every penny she spotted you while you were down. You often made her meals and brought her lunch, as well as surprised her with little things here and there when possible. Your budget was tight, but you made it work and saved up some money while paying down your credit card debt. You found out how good you really were with numbers at that point, and although you scrimped and saved, you were able to budget all of these things in and still keep money in your new bank account.

As you walked into the 21st District that morning, something seemed off. Many of the officers around had been whispering amongst themselves. You furrowed your brow as you approached the front desk, where Trudy was looking down at some paperwork. “Hey, Sergeant…” you said softly, looking up at her. “What’s going on? Did I miss something?”

She looked down at you. “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head, furrowing your brow.

“Voight’s out of prison.”

You blinked. You hadn’t visited Voight in a long time, not since just after Trudy took you in. “He’s out?”

“And he’s assigned to the Intelligence Unit as the new Sergeant in the 21st District.”

You turned around as the whispering grew silent, Voight walking in the doors behind you. “Ah, it’s good to be back in the 21st. Trudy, nice to see you.”

Trudy nodded. “You too, Hank.”

“And who is that? (Y/N)? You look much better than the last time I saw you.”

You blushed from embarrassment at being called out in front of everyone. You waved a bit and nodded. “Hey, Voight…”

“Sergeant Voight,” the commander’s voice boomed from his office. “In here, now.”

Voight smiled and walked through to the commander’s office, shutting the door. You breathed out, blinking. You weren’t sure why you’d been so tense. Voight had helped you, so he was alright in your book despite being a dirty cop. You bit your lip and looked up at Trudy once again.

Trudy glanced at you, then looked at the other officers. “Get back to work, everyone. Let’s go.” When she looked at you once more, she nodded. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I… I don’t know why I’m so tense. Maybe it’s just the others in the room.”

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded and walked behind the desk and into the back rooms, starting your morning duties.

—

Weeks went by, and every time Voight came through and smiled at you, you visibly shuddered. You had no idea what was causing it, but you typically mirrored his smile and sometimes waved. It was an odd feeling, almost as if he reminded you of that time when you were under your husband’s thumb. You knew that wasn’t it, but couldn’t find any better explanation for what you had felt every time he was near you.

One day, you were working in the basement, filing some records, when someone came up behind you. You turned your head, jumping a bit when you saw a male figure, whipping your body to match your gaze. When you found it was just Voight, you let out a long breath. “Damn it, you scared me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I wanted to check up on you, without anyone’s prying eyes or ears. How have you been?”

You looked him over. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his body was relaxed, looking at your face. You nodded as you met his eyes. “I’ve been alright, Sergeant.” Somehow, you were still tense around him, but that wasn’t quite it. It was a feeling you couldn’t describe. Your stomach was in knots. Your face got hot. You bit your lip. “Trudy helped me get on my feet. Thank you… for everything you did on your end. I’m sorry it was such an inopportune time.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad it worked out, (Y/N). And, call me Hank.”

You nodded. “Of course… Hank.” You crossed your arms over your chest, rubbing them. “How is intelligence? I heard you have Dawson and Willhite up there. They’re good. They helped get me out of there.”

“That’s why I chose them. My unit will be only the best, the handpicked people.” He hummed, looking around, then back at you. “In fact, I was wondering if you’d like to come work upstairs with me.”

“U-Upstairs? In Intelligence? I hardly think I’m qualified to-“

“You’d do fine. Just think about it,” he said with a small shrug. “If you want to, I’ll clear it with Trudy and the commander.” He turned around as you walked past him, back upstairs behind you. “Just give me an answer in a few days.”

“Wait,” you said softly, stopping halfway up the steps and turning to look at him. “Why me?”

He moved up so he was on the same step as you, your bodies nearly touching, making you blush deeply. “Because, (Y/N),” he whispered. “You’re smart, you’re kind, and you’re beautiful. I love seeing your face every day.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Take a few days to think about it, then find me.” With that, he moved up the stairs and back into the district.

You stood, gripping the railing, left speechless. Your stomach turned now, but not in a bad way. Your knees were weak, your breath taken away by the former dirty cop. One hand moved to touch your cheek where his lips had landed, and you were frozen in time for several moments, replaying the interaction in your mind. It wasn’t until someone opened the door and found you on the steps were you pulled back to reality, clearing your throat and pardoning yourself past them. You went to the bathroom and locked yourself in a stall, regulating your breathing as you figured out what you felt for the Sergeant.

You hadn’t been able to put a word to the feelings you’d been facing the last few weeks ever since Voight came back. You’d never felt them before, or rather, not in over ten years. Not since your former husband has wooed you the first time. You were terrified of this feeling of… love? Is that even what you’d call it? You took half an hour to think, regulating your breathing as you brought yourself back down to reality.

When you exited the bathroom, Trudy caught your gaze, motioning you over. You nodded and walked to her desk just as Voight passed by with Dawson and Willhite. You caught Vought’s eyes and he nodded with a small smile, just as he usually did. You couldn’t help but smile back. He liked your smile. It made you want to smile more.

Trudy caught this interaction, then put her hand on your shoulder. “Alright. Dinner tonight. My place. You’re going to spill it.”

You looked at Trudy, blushing heavily. “I… okay.”

.

After shift that day, Trudy drove you to her place, where she started dinner. Once she had it cooking, you sitting at the island, she turned to face you. “Alright. Spill it.”

You laughed awkwardly, having not said much this entire time. “Spill what?”

“You and Voight. Didn’t he go down into records?”

“Y-Yeah? So?” You blushed simply thinking about the interaction you’d had with the Sergeant just hours before, and the offer he’d made you.

“So… spill it. What happened that made you run into the bathroom so quickly after?”

“I, uh…” You bit your lip, not meeting her eyes as you stated at the granite countertop below you. “Uh…”

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

You looked up quickly. “Yes, yes, I’m alright. It’s alright. Nothing… nothing and happened. At least, I didn’t think it was bad.”

“So what did happen, then?”

“He, uh, just wanted to talk to me for a minute about how I was doing and all of that. And he offered me a spot in Intelligence.”

“Uh huh?” Trudy asked, urging for more.

“And… so I asked why me, and he said because I’m… I’m beautiful… and kind and smart and… he likes seeing my face every day…” You blushed deeply, your voice growing softer with each passing word. “And then he… he kissed my cheek…”

Trudy’s mouth dropped in shock. She had no idea Hank Voight would ever make a move like that. “He kissed your cheek??”

“Y-Yeah… is… is that bad? Should I, uhm, say something or…?”

“Well, were you okay with it?”

You nodded a little. “I think so, yeah… It caught me by surprise. I’ve been so tense around him but… I don’t think it was fear. I think I was just nervous. He’s… he’s attractive.” You shrugged. “Am I… trauma bonding to him? Because of Jeff? Should I… tell him to stop?”

“Hey, (Y/N), I won’t tell you who you can and can’t date. Hank is… he’s a good man, despite the dirty cop run he had. He was grieving. He lost his wife to cancer, what, three years ago now? I’m just glad he’s moving on and focusing on other things.”

“He… lost his wife to cancer?” You frowned. “That’s so sad… I could never replace his wife.”

Trudy hummed and nodded, turning to the stove to stir the pan. “You won’t replace Camille. Nobody can. But maybe you can help him find happiness again and get back on the right path. The only reason he ever went off the deep end was because she wasn’t there to hold him back anymore. He had to pay for her cancer treatments somehow, and he just never stopped taking the bribes.”

You frowned and looked down. “Maybe this is a bad idea… Maybe he’s not over her and he’s going to use me to grieve more…”

“Hey, Hank wouldn’t do that,” Trudy said, coming over to the island and holding one of your hands. “He’s a good guy. If you tell him to back off, he will. Maybe you should talk to him and tell him what you’re thinking. If it’s a no, then he’ll respect your choice.”

You sighed. “I just… I think I… have butterflies around him but I haven’t felt like this in over ten years. I mean, I don’t even know how to date anymore.”

Trudy laughed softly, shaking her head. “Tomorrow, why don’t you grab lunch for the two of you and just eat in his office. Very informal, and you can talk to him, alright?”

You nodded slowly, looking at Trudy. She seemed to be harboring some excitement for you, or maybe for Hank. You knew Trudy knew Hank for a long time and personally. “Why not you?”

She seemed taken aback by the question, stopping and staring at you. “What?”

“Why not you and Hank? You guys know one another. Seems like you know a lot about him, at least.”

She scoffed. “It’s my job to know a lot about everybody.” She stood and went back to the stove. “Hank and I just aren’t like that with each other. Never have been, even before he met Camille.”

“You’re saying you never had a crush on him?”

Trudy rolled her eyes and looked at you over her shoulder. “I never said that, but it wasn’t anything. When a male is kind to you in a hostile world, you tend to latch on to those things. I was young, and nothing ever came of it. We settled into a friendship role, maybe even a family role.” She hiked her shoulders and turned off the stove. “I could never see myself with him, even then. I just convinced myself I could.”

You hummed, then moved off the stool to set the table as Trudy finished putting dinner together. The two of you ate together and had some wine before you went home, lying awake in bed and contemplating what to say to Hank Voight the next day.

—

When he walked by you the next morning, you smiled, a more genuine smile than forced one. It made him look twice, seeing you smile genuinely. His lips pulled up in a smile just the same, barely watching here he was walking as he nearly ran into a beat officer. You laughed a little, both of you blushing as you shared a small moment that nobody else seemed to notice, not even Trudy, seeing as she was in the back at the time.

You thought about Hank’s offer once again. You’d be able to see him every day. But, he would be your boss. How would that even work? You hummed as you went to work, a small grin still on your face.

—

When lunch rolled around, you checked your watch, then moved upstairs and tapped Trudy’s arm softly. “Buzz me up?” You grabbed your lunch cooler from under the counter and slung it over your shoulder.

“Sure,” she replied, nodding to you.

You walked over to the cage, opening the door when Trudy buzzed you in. Then, you climbed the steps and looked around. You’d only been up to Intelligence a few times, only to bring files up. You typically never got further than Antonio’s desk before someone took them from you and sent you packing. That day, most of the Intelligence unit was gone. Only detectives Olinsky and Halstead were left, both sitting at their desks, chatting to one another. Hank was in his office, working on some paperwork.

Mustering all the confidence you had, you walked straight through the bullpen and into the doorway of Hank’s office. You knocked on the doorframe softly as he looked up, smiling at him. “Hey. Have you eaten yet?”

Hank hummed and sat up in his seat, having been leaning over before. “No, I haven’t,” he said softly, motioning you inside.

You shut the door behind you, sitting down across from him and pulling things from the cooler you’d since set down. “I figured we could talk and eat,” you replied. “Turkey or ham?”

Hank looked you over. “You didn’t have to do this, (Y/N).”

You blushed, but pulled out a chilled water bottle and set it in front of him. “Turkey or Ham?” You insisted.

Hank was silent for a moment, meeting your eyes. Your previously mustered confidence was the only thing holding you together, and it was quickly fading as Hank challenged your kindness. He didn’t mean to, it was simply his demeanor. “Ham,” he finally said.

You held out the chilled ham sandwich you’d prepared that morning, allowing him to take it as you cleared your throat, taking a moment to breathe before speaking again. “I just wanted to talk to you, ya know?”

“Okay,” Hank said, nodding and taking a bite from the sandwich. “About what?”

“About yesterday.” You took a bite of your sandwich as well to buy yourself some time. Everything you’d thought of went out the window as the butterflies set in. Hank’s presence was enough to make your head spin, let alone being in a room alone with him. “I, uh, thought about your offer a lot.”

“Mmhm?” Hank hummed as he chewed another bite, looking at you.

You blushed when you met his eyes, looking at your feet, using your free hand to wipe something off of your pants. “Yeah, I… I think… I think what happened was you offered me two things.”

Hank nodded, still looking at you. “I guess maybe I did.”

You looked up to meet his eyes. “Then you know… that those two offers conflict.”

His chocolate eyes ran their way over your figure, then back to your face as Hank nodded. “I suppose they do.”

“So you understand… I can only accept one of those offers. Not because I don’t want both, but because I can’t have both.”

“Which one, then?” Hank asked bluntly, his voice quieter as the tension became thicker between the two of you. He leaned forward in his seat again as he set down his sandwich.

You bit your lip, your chest growing tighter as you swallowed hard. “I… can’t join Intelligence.”

Hank stared at you, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I understand,” he said softly. “I think that’s a wise choice, though maybe I’m just partial to that option.”

You blushed, nodding slowly, looking down again and picking a hair off your sleeve, then looking back up. “You… really want someone as broken as me?”

Hank let out a small laugh. “(Y/N), you’re not broken. I mean, you’re one of the strongest people I know. What you overcame and what you did to overcome it, that’s ballsy, to say the least. I mean, making Maurice Owens find you a dirty cop to help solve your issues?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, remembering you still hadn’t paid him back for that.

When your eyes moved to the floor once again, Hank noticed the troubled look on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“I forgot that I owe Maurice for a few favors. I don’t even know what he wants.” You sighed. “Shit… probably sex or money.”

Hank shook his head, getting up from his seat and walking over, then crouching in front of you, taking your chin gently in his fingers. You met his eyes again. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay Maurice off.”

“But… Are you still out there? Dirty?” You suddenly had second thoughts. If Hank was a dirty cop, he would take you down with him. On the other hand, you couldn’t go much lower than you’d already gone with Jeff.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said softly. “When the time comes, I’ll explain, okay?”

“I just… if we get serious, and you’re dirty, it could-“

“I would never let that happen. Do you trust me?”

You scoffed a little, a small smile pulling at your lips. “I trusted you with my life. It would be silly to stop now.”

“Then know that when I say I would never let anything happen to you because of me, I mean it. I’ll protect you.” His opposite hand was placed on your knee, his eyes looking intently into yours. “I’ll pay Maurice off on your behalf, alright?”

“You really don’t have to do that, Hank, I… I owe him a lot. He said it was doubled at one point… I-“

Hank gently shushed you, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip as he cupped your face. “I’ve got it. Trust me.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay,” you whispered, leaning into his hand. His touches were so gentle, more so than any man you’d experienced before. For having a bad reputation, Voight didn’t seem all that bad. He was certainly better than Jeff. You understood why Trudy was close with him despite his dirty dealings.

“Okay,” he affirmed, smiling at you. You couldn’t help but smile back, and for just a moment, the world went away. Your horrible past, Voight’s horrible past, the debts you owed to Maurice, it all went away. You gazed into his chocolate brown eyes, his hands now gently holding yours, his smile wrapping you up and making you feel safer than ever. You knew you were making the right choice at that point. “Thank you, Hank.”

[keelt9]

Chapter 10

Masterlist

Max kept his promise, he texted me from time to time, even wished us luck on the meeting of Friday morning, which went successfully. 

The owner was so pleased to know his farm will be used for something helpful and agreed right away, we settled the sale in three days.

Two weeks passed as I’m getting used to a new routine in Newport and London, building a new home.

Emma is sitting with me under the lemon tree as we observe how the widows are placed. 

“Do you like them?” Emma asked, tilting her head like she could read my house. 

“They’re perfect.” The loud sound of a truck distracted us. 

Today the stones that will be on the wall that Thomas insisted it had reinforced at the back and put some on the front just arrived.

Thomas and Emma have always been so clear, while things are loaded or unloading I must remain in my safe spot, but from time to time, I’m really curious and tend to walk around…

Mika is standing at the door close, waiting; Thomas and I observe her, and she observes her watch tapping her feet.

When the door opened one of her workmates entered with a cordial smile to her but hard eyes to us.

“Well…” Dr. Hanks walked to the negatoscope to see X-Rays, putting two of the four images of my arm. “It’s broken.”

Mika bluffs as Thomas and I close our eyes, knowing the killing eyes are behind us.

“Here and here.” The doctor pointed out that my arm broke in two parts. “That’s why the pain and the swelling.” He changed to the last X-Rays. “Fortunately, I expect there’s not much damage in your arm, Miss Hamilton.”

“That’s god right?” I innocently asked, winning the scoff of the doctor.

“It’s broken Y/N, it’s not good at all.” Mika said like she’s reading doctors' minds. 

The doctor smiles, he clearly knows the temperament of Mika. “You have a cast at least at the end of the autumn.”

“What?!” Thomas and I scream at the unison. 

“No, no, I mean, I have a big presentation at the end of the summer and a lot of things to do after that.” I grab my arm, the analgesic starts to fade away. “I need to be fine at the beginning of autumn.”

The doctor shook his head. “I’m sorry Miss Hamilton, it’s a fracture.”

I laid down my head against the desk, feeling the cold of the crystal; making plans of somethings I don’t even begin. 

Flogging a dead horse.

After another hour of check ups, I finally was able to go home… with Thomas sticking to my side.

I know it’s my fault, Thomas was pretty clear about walking around as moving big heavy rocks, very dangerous. Even though I insisted I’ll keep within the limits, I got distracted, leaning on the stone wall, but the rocks weren't secure; two of them fell, landing on my left arm. 

Mom looked at me with anger but compassionate eyes. “I’m so sorry Thomas, you should call us and we won't interrupt you.” 

“It’s part of my fault, I can’t do that.” Thomas apologized one more time.

“Here.” Dad enters the living room with a glass of water for my medicines. “Don’t say that Thomas, Y/N is aware it’s on her, right honey?”

“Of course, Thomas don’t worry, I own you a big one after all.” I smile at him, grabbing his hand, making him smile.

After he was gone, mom asked me if I would tell my siblings about my arm, but I hate to make people worry about me or have pity, even though I know they probably scold me too for being so careless.

“No, I mean Lewis arrived tomorrow so he’ll know.” I laid down on the bed with my mom's help. “It’s useless to worry the rest.”

“So stubborn.” Mom said, kissing my head before going to the door. “Try to rest honey, anything you need to call us.”

I smile seeing her closing the door, I see my phone light one, Max is calling.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Lewis is sitting in the dining room with a serious face and arms across. “You already know.”

“I’ll call Mika.” He stands with phone in his hand dialing the number of Mika, probably to know if it’s all safe for me to travel.

Roscoe walks with Lewis, head rising. “Oh, you too?”

Mika told Lewis it’s ok I’ll travel but I must be really careful with my arm and in two weeks coming back for another X-Ray making sure the shoulders it’s out of risk, which coincide with the last week of vacation before the race week of Zandvoort.

He makes sure me and my arm are safe all the time. After a quick flight we arrived in Paris, where he was right there weren't so many cameras pointing at me, all pointing to Roscoe and him.

Roscoe is a famous dog, everyone knew that but it’s the first time in years, he will be a full ambassador of guess what? Vegan snacks.

That’s why they brought me with them, took a break from the work and like me, seeing how much Roscoe loved his snacks. 

After two days of shooting the shelter project came out in a casual conversation, with good results. They said if Roscoe is involved they will be glad to be part of it.

The first posts in the social accounts pop up, the reception was excellent, all expecting what Roscoe is involved in. 

In one of the photos Roscoe was lying down on my lap, everything looks fine until you can clearly see my cast and my face looking down at Roscoe.

One photo triggered a huge wave of messages from my family, friends, my brother teammates, the drivers I’ve known and a few people I barely know. 

I thought Max would be one of the first who would call me or text me but he didn’t; instead his messages and calls become more erratic and sharp for weeks. When he calls something changes in his voice and barely mentions something about his day or wants to know more than I’m willing to tell him.

I’m not a fool, I know he barely knows anything about my accident even though I didn't mention it to him, his frustration this time came in short and sharp messages and calls.

The day of my check up, Dr. Hank told us the shoulders seem right, just a small swelling but with the meds and the proper care will pass in a few weeks, the arm well, the prediction doesn't change at all. 

“For receiving such good news, you seem pretty upset.” Mika said, watching me as we sat in the cafeteria of the hospital.

“I don’t get it.” I whisper with my lips sticking to my bottle of water. “I don't want… I mean, the race is next week, why should I make him worry?”

Mika smirks. “Oh.” As she lays down, her next shift it’s in two hours, we both know we have time. 

“It doesn’t make sense, why do I feel so uneasy?” When I raise my eyes, she has that side smile, arms over the table. “Damn it, I know, I know baby steps.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I heard her as I tossed my hair a sign of frustration.  “Which pass will you use?” I narrow my eyes. “The Mercedes pass or Red Bull pass?”

I scoff laid back with an arm cross. “I won’t go.” Mika nods. “I’m being serious.” She takes the last sip of her tea. 

“Let’s go, the physiotherapist is waiting for you.” Mika already scheduled an appointment for me with the physiotherapist, so he can be on the day of my arm. 

She stands with a smile on her face. “Mika, I’m talking seriously.”

The first two days of the race week passed dreadfully slowly, working on the last details of the presentation doesn’t help at all, the meeting is scheduled in two weeks with the green light of all the investment, it’s time to put it to work.

Thomas has a big smile when he enters my parents house. “Big news, big news. We made it, the painting room is fine and secure.” 

He sat down next to me, looking at my computer. “Do you have a slide with a lot of question marks?” 

I blink realizing my mind is another part. “What?” I look down a full slide with question marks on the screen. “Oh, no, I was distracted, what do you say?”

Thomas smiles repeating his words. “But I guess that is not so thrilling for the way your mind is in another part, right?” One more time until he touched my arm I realized I was thinking of another person.

“Mika told me about your indecision.” I giggle at how something seems to work perfectly. 

One week ago Thomas and Mika made their relationship official, they're officially boyfriend and girlfriend, a happy couple, annoying in a cute way.

“It’s not indecisions.” Thomas scoffs, as I close my laptop. “Why would he be mad? I mean, I don’t tell him anything.”

Thomas shakes his head. “Maybe it’s for that reason.” He takes a deep breath. “Don’t you think you're threatening him like another driver on the grid?” 

I opened my mouth but he didn’t let me speak. “After shearing such intimate days, well, I bet it must be pretty nasty that the person you like shut you down so harshly. And no, that’s nothing to do with the baby steps, it’s about putting him aside.”

“I got scared.” Thomas blinked before I laid down my head. “After the photo came out, Lewis and I arrived at Monaco. I had bouquets of flowers from Bottas, Nico and Mercedes team, bags of snacks from Checo and Yuki. Even Charles, Alexa and Leo send me a few things I could need for keeping entertained.” I lift my eyes seeing more bouquets here in London. “This from family and friends, all wishing me a fast recovery.”

“I don’t get it.” Thomas asks, looking at my eyes. 

A sad smile appears on my face. “I’m aware of how many people worry about me and I’m grateful, but with Max, it’s different. Caleb showed me how unsafe and unsteady you could be with someone who swore you love you.” 

Thomas grabs my hand in a way of support. “I met Max a month ago, after our crashing meeting, there isn’t a moment I’m with him where I don't feel safe and protected.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “What if…what if I made the same mistake?”

“Y/N.” He used the same tone when he met me in my hotel room after we announced we canceled the wedding.

“I lived with Caleb, I saw him every day. I won’t see Max every day, I could miss the moment he stopped feeling this way, I’m scared of losing him.” A tear slipped and Thomas hugged me tight.

“I saw him, yeah, Mika doesn't believe in the fact that eyes can tell you more than words, she and her hard head.” Both of us giggled. “But I don’t know, I think I know what you see in him.” He spits, grabbing my face. “I’m confident you’re not that love blind, anymore.”

I giggle hugging him one more time. “I don't think I’m going anyway.” 

“Oh my word!” Thomas complained.

Through every photo of Zanndovrt you can see orange, it’s Max's home race.

Even when they got the result expected, Max had a lot of disapproval and troubles with the car, that you can hear and see when he’s been questioned about the race, plus his onboard leave it clear.

“What a no surprise?” Mika said as she entered her doctor’s practice after a 6 hour surgery. 

She sits in her chair stretching her arms and legs, the cracking of her bones make me shiver. “I mean, I found Dr. Hank on my way here, he told me, "you come early to your monthly consultation.”

“I’m going to Monza.” Mika smirks. “I’m taking, just for this situation, a 355 km/hrs path.” 

Seeing Max frustrate, the fact when I tried to called him, he just text me back <It isn’t a good moment, I’ll text you back.> Made me feel angry with myself, I mean, who the hell expects he trusts me if I don’t do the same.

“Right.” Mika nods, spinning in her chair. “You count with me, ok? Just be careful.”

I nod as I raise my bag with all I’ll need for the trip. “I have all the cover, don’t worry. And yes, I’ll call you if I need something.”

Mika bluffs seeing my arm cast but my smile grows bigger. “Warn him, if he plays with you…”

I laugh and go to hug Mika by the neck. “I love you so much.”

The Autodromo Nazionale Monza is painted red and yellow, the Ferraris are the center of all the attention, last race from them was pretty great, a few issues on the pit stop complicate the race, they probably could have a tight fight with the bulls.

With the VIP pass of Mercedes I walk all over the paddock; the adrenaline is palpable but my mind is focused on one thing: Find Max Verstappen.

It’s the day of free practice 1, so things are calm. Lewis told us he won’t be in the car today so, as soon as I arrived at the hospitality, the Mercedes crew recognized me. It took 3 seconds to have Lewis in front of me.

In the middle of a hug, he told me I must warn him that I'll probably come, he could make sure I’ll travel with all the facilities.

“Actually, I came for two reasons.” I said as he splits looking at me with narrow eyes.

“The gossip is true.” Rosa announces herself as looks at me with tender eyes. “Do you need something?” She pointed to my arm and my sling.

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” I feel Lewis eyes on me. “Do you mind if I stole him for a while?”

Rosa shakes her head. “He already appears on T.V, tomorrow won’t be possible. We need him in the car.”

Lewis giggled as I took him to the rooftop for a talk in calm. As the practice ended my resumed version of the story ended too.

“I knew it.” I tilt my head. “Max seems really bothered by the fact I comment so lightly about the arm.”

Lewis closed his eyes, crossing his arms. “Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely.” Lewis looked right to my eyes for a couple of seconds before smiling softly at me and grabbing my hand.

“Either way, I won’t be easy with him.” I laughed holding his hand too. “You know when crumbles of suspicion begin this only becomes bigger, right?”

“Lew, all my life I've been living surrender by the fuss of being a Hamilton.” I smirk laid back on the sofa. “The question is, will he be ready?”

A pure laugh surrounded us. “God, this is the sentimental part of being the older brother I don’t like at all. Just please until all this comes to the light, be here with me, ok?”

“Lewis…” He shakes his head, not willing to negotiate.

“Just until that moment, please.” We heard the noises down there increase the cars getting into the garage. “Let me protect you this time.”

I smile at him nodding. “You always do.”

When the day comes to an end, my heartbeat increases, the nervousness and anticipation runs through my veins; after all, it’s the first time I’ll go to him.

I walk outside of the building feeling my trembling hands, going to the garage where Lewis told me Red Bull is still working, on my way I feel suspicious eyes over me; the hoodie I’m wearing doesn’t help at all.

Max is coming out of the garage suit at the level of his waist, a Red bull in his left hand as his team keeps showing him a few papers and cell phones are recording him; but his posture sparks off tension. 

I stop dry at the level of Mercedes garage, hesitate if I should go right to him or wait all calm around him. Just in that moment our eyes crossed.

Max's eyes turn bigger, he’s clearly surprised but any sign of a smile appears on his face, like time froze. Max waited a couple of seconds before talking with his team, apparently he said something that made his team walk past me by focusing on what they’re seeing or reading.

He waits a couple of seconds before walking to me, in his face confusion and relief.

“What are you doing here?” Max asked, his voice was low but clearly affected to see me like this.

“Lately you seem kind of distant. I don’t want another excuse for a short answer.” I raise my eyebrows faking carelessness.

Max looked right to my eyes before seeing my arm. “I didn't ignore you, it's just…” He scratches his neck trying to find the words. “I’m mad.”

“I know, it seems you have trou…” Max bluffs, laying back his head.

“I’m mad because you didn't tell me about that.” He points to my arm. “I found it in a picture.”

I feel exposed when I see his eyes, Thomas is right, he’s hurt. “The holidays were about to end. You have to focus on the races.”

The sarcastic laugh is painful. “There is something more that bothers me.” I play with my fingers. “That you even think you could distract me; that I’m not someone who you can tell important things.” Max grip became tight in his can. “I don’t have to be the pilot all the time. I also can be here for you Y/N.”

I bite my lip. “I’m here for you, remember, hold on tight?”

His confession took me by surprise, seeing his vulnerable side of Max is something I haven't witnessed before.

The silence turned more dense, full of unsaid things. I take a step to him and question myself if holding his hand will be the right thing to do. “That’s why I’m here, to make things clear. Believe me or not, I’m here for you Max.”

Max breathed out. “I was scared, but seeing you and your honest concern about me, it’s more than enough.” I grab his hand. “Thank you so much.” 

Max doesn’t say another word, he just stares at me. “I get it, take your time, ok, I’ll wait.” I stand on my tip toes to give him a peck on his cheek.

But he tingled our fingers pulling me for a hug. “I’m glad that you’re here. I didn’t expect it… but I need it.”

A side to side smile appears on my face as he smiles too. “Still I don’t mind a compliment.”

Max choke his head, I lift my broken arm. A “Simple Lovely” hoodie. “Believe Lewis was red when he saw it on me.” 

Mas eyes lights on giggling but he looks at the pass. “Yeah, that’s not the right one.” 

I laugh seeing the Mercede VIP pass on my neck. ��Hey, this will take time.” 

In a useless attempt to take my hand back, he grips it tighter. “Are you ok?” He see my arm.

“It was a pretty silly way of fracture, but I’m ok, it will take a while to heal but I’ll be fine.” One more time I pull my hand but he smiles and holds it tight.

“Max.” I giggled but he left his can on the floor before helping me to set one more time sling on my arm. 

“Are you here full race?” I nod. “You’ll be in my garage?” He asked, side eyes as he took his can.

“Can you make me change my mind in one night?” Max has a side smile, with his cheek in a soft pink. “Oh my word! No!”

Both of us laughed. “That’s cheating. You know I have to go to sleep earlier, the car is giving us trouble so, I need to be fresh for tomorrow.”

Of course I know, but I’m playing with him. “Such bad luck.” I click my tongue. “Maybe next time, now, if you don’t mind I need my healthy hand for leaving.” 

He just had time to open his mouth before closing it again when we heard someone shooting his name, searching for him.

“Go, they are looking for you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Max moved his eyes to me and in the hallways behind me.

“Fuck!” He reluctantly let go of my hand scratching his nose.

“There you are!” Rupert appears with a relieved expression. “Oh, Y/N, omg, what happened?”

“Maybe it’s broken.” Rupper looks at Max bluffing for his sarcastic answer. 

“So funny Max, let’s go, we have to go.” Rupert wishes me a quick recovery before they leave, Max dragging his feets on the ground, like a kid.

A few minutes after I entered my hotel room, the soft knocks at my door called for my attention.

Max in black pants and t-shirt is holding a paper bag, he didn’t give me any chance to talk, looking at both sides of the hallway, put the bag on my hands and go chuckling all the way until the lift.

Just two seconds were enough for him to come running back, stop, give me a soft peck on my cheek. “See you tomorrow.”  

I wait until the lift closes with him inside, I put it on the table taking out the paper on the top. 

A lot of snacks and under it, 3 different hoodies of his clothing line, all have the lion on the middle of it, one of them had a small post it.

<I couldn’t find the orange one, sorry :c>

I take notes on my mind too, Max loves to write small notes.

..............................................................................................................................

A/N: It’s Mexico GP! 💀

[spicy-outer-space]

Day 1 of whumptober 2024!

Not proofread, I just want to post this before midnight. Bonus points if you can guess the fandom Mike is based in

Trigger warnings: to be added, proceed at your own risk

Prompts: race against the clock / search party

Mike thew himself behind a toppled table as gunshots echoed elsewhere in the building, pressing a hand to where his head got slammed into the wall minutes ago.

Great. Just what he needed. As if the day wasn't going badly enough as is.

Not only has he woken up with a killer headache, still sore from his last mission, he also managed to get into an argument with Hank before even arriving to whatever agency building they were sacking this time.

And now he's gotten himself injured, and managed to split up with Hank. Not to mention that the gun he's picked up from some agent's corpse is jamming.

Just great.

He bites back a groan, sitting up and peeking from behind his makeshift cover.

No agents in sight. Good. That's... something.

Mike probably has a few minutes before the agency realises that he and Hank split up. He just has to pray that by then he finds a decent weapon and some bandages. And maybe a way out, since he has no idea where he currently is. He starts heading to the closest door, holding his gun like a bat, ready to swing if the need arises.

Unfortunately, that's the moment it decides to unjam and, for some god forsaken reason, shoot.

Mike curses, throwing the gun across the room and trying to not think too hard about how much worse that could have been if his arm was angled just a little bit lower. Great. Now all the agents nearby have been alerted to his location. Fucking perfect. He wouldn't be surprised if there were soldiers in this building too. Hell, maybe even a few MAGs. Why not? At this rate the Auditor himself could materialize in front of Mike and he wouldn't be surprised.

Loud footsteps jolt him from his thoughts. Right. More pressing matters. Of course. Mike quickly glances around again, ignoring the way his vision blurs with the motion. Spotting a door, and only taking a moment to make sure there weren't any sounds behind it, he tears it open and slips inside.

It's... A broom closet. Shit. There was a different door not far from this one. Maybe if he's fast enough, he can-

"Clear the perimeter. Search every nook. We can't have it escaping to rejoin with him again"

Ugh. Well, there goes that plan. He can hear the agents spread out to search the room he was just in. Judging by the footsteps, at least a full squad of agents, probably with a soldier leading them.

Mike takes note of the equipment at his disposal. Buckets, brooms, rubber gloves... What sort of agency broom closet doesn't have any weapons?! Well, at least none of the agents have bothered with checking this broom closet. Yet.

Mike moves, silently, climbing onto the boxes in the corner of the room. It's getting harder to think, and the ringing in his ears is telling him he needs to sit down. He pulls himself inside some box, shoving aside the mops already in there as quietly as possible, and pulls a different box partway onto the lid.

With any luck, the agents won't notice the bloody prints he's left while hiding. Or the bottle of soap he's spilled when shifting the other box. Not like he can do anything but hope, now. His body is already going limp, passing out without his permission.

He just has to get lucky. For once today.

Please, gods, just let him be lucky.

[multi-fandomsfreak]

Madness combat trio proposal

(Hank J Wimbleton x reader, Sanford x Reader, Deimos x reader) ~Blaze/Dawn

Pronouns: They/Them

Warning: ⚠️Minor swearing⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Hank J Wimbleton + Sanford + Deimos

Proof read: ❌

Credits: Icon by Rawan Rawan on Pinterest + Banner by ??? (Edited by me) on Pinterest

————————————————

Hank J Wimbleton:

- I’m pretty sure Hank would know pretty quick when they are in love not instantly but will catch on quickly

- He would suppress his love for you especially with this current situation with Nevada

- But eventually you notice their weird behaviour and decide to confront them about it

- You managed to convince them to admit their feelings about you and he admitted that he was scared about your reaction but you ensured them that you feel the same to which he was happy for once in his life

- Ever since then you two have been protecting each other’s lives and make sure neither of you two were hurt

- After the whole Nevada thing you and Hank had been more vocal about your love for each other

- For a while Hank had been thinking about proposing to you for while but they just didn’t know how

- Since he didn’t know what to do they decided to ask Deimos for help which was a bad idea since he decided to tease Hank for it

+ “Oh you want love advice from me well then I can definitely help ya buddy”

+ “Deimos please don’t make it worse and just help me”

+ “Alright then what you want to do is take them somewhere nice somewhere romantic and just tell them”

+ “…that’s it?”

+ “I don’t know what else to say”

+ “Well your much help”

+ “No wait don’t ignore what I just said because I don’t know what else to say”

+ “Just i think it be best for you two to be together at a somewhat peaceful place and just say it”

+ “*sighs* guess I’ll try thanks”

+ “K bye good luck buddy”

- Hank just smiled a bit at Deimos and went to visit you

- Hank did what Deimos said surprisingly because they didn’t know what else to do to which they actually had a good time and for once didn’t regret asking Deimos for help well for the most part

- Eventually the time came he needed to tell you but he was absolutely shaking about it they were so nervous he managed to confess to you I’m pretty sure proposing wasn’t that hard

+ “Y/n I need to tell you something”

+ “Huh what is it Hank?”

+ “You know I love you right?”

+ “Yes? I’m I doing something wrong?” You asked nervously

+ “No no your not just let me explain” Hank took a deep breath in

+ “Y/n, my love, your the best person I could of asked for even throughout the whole ordeal a while ago you had stay by my side and for that I have to ask”

- Hank went onto one knee and asked

+ “Y/n will you marry me?”

- You felt tears coming from your eyes Hank was proposing to you

- You nod your head in reply and Hank put the ring on you finger

- They hugged you as soon has the ring was placed on your finger since he was shocked at your reaction

Sanford:

- I feel like Sanford would also be quick to notice his emotions for you but not as quick as Hank

- He definitely appreciate you as a friend don’t get him wrong but he didn’t realise his feelings until Deimos teased him about you two being a couple until it hit him

- Maybe he is in love with you?

- That was when he made it his mission to confess to you and propose to you If you do accept his feelings

- He was going to tell you at some point during the Nevada disaster but he kept getting distracted

- Eventually after the disaster while the two of were accepting he just blurted out his confession

- It shocked you at first but you did accept his confession to which he thanked you and gave you a hug

- Next mission: marrying you

- He be planning proposing as soon as you accept his confession well not straight away of course (at least he’s prepared I guess)

- He managed to find a place for just you and him and to just relax

- Eventually he decided to propose

+ “Y/n can I tell you something?”

+ “Sure go ahead Sanford”

+ “I don’t really know how to do this so I’m just going to be straight with you”

+ “Y/n I love you, you're the best, I’m not sure what I would’ve done if I hadn’t met you and…” then he started to ramble about everything perfect about you

+ “Sorry but can you get to the point”

+ “Oh right sorry” Sanford chuckled realising he was ranting

- He took a deep breath in and went onto one knee and said

+ “Y/n would you marry me?”

- The moment that Sanford said that you felt some sort of happiness come over you and said yes

- Sanford happily put the ring and gave you a kiss and hug

Deimos:

- I’m sorry Deimos Stans (I’m one too so I can say this) but he’s kind of dumb despite him claiming to be a love expert he can not tell for shits that he loves you unless someone points it out

- And those people being either Hank or Sanford (most likely Sanford) it probably go something like this:

+ “Jeez Deimos if you like them so much just marry them already”

- Then he was like “wait fuck” “maybe I should?”

- Now that he final realise his feels his for you he’s been trying to impress you so you can catch on and confess to him but instead you thought that he was just being his normal self since he does this on the daily

- It kind of frustrates him so eventual he just tells you that he likes you and the reason he’s been doing this is so you can confess to him

- In response you just chuckled and said that he could of just told you because you feel the same

- To that he just laughs in embarrassment but thanks you anyways for accepting

- Hope you guys are touch starved or love being close to people because this man is clingy as fuck he will and can hug you 24/7 and compliment you and make sure that you are giving all the love and the attention you deserve

- Anyways on to the proposal

- Deimos isn’t your typical guy remember how i said that he’ll make sure you are giving all the attention and love you deserve

- He will take you to the most romantic ass restaurant and treat you like a god/goddess or whatever terms you prefer

- After all of this he will just tell you straight up

+ “y/n i need to ask you something”

+ “Huh what is it?”

+ “There’s a reason i did this, you know i love you with all my heart and i want to be with you for the rest of my life so i want to ask you”

- You saw deimos go on one knee and say

+ “y/n would you marry me?”

- For once in deimos life he was actually nervous he knows you but still he’s afraid that you’ll reject him

- But he heard you say yes and he immediately looked at you and put the ring on you and gave you the biggest hug and kiss you

- After that he went to hank and sanford and rambled about how you accepted his proposal

————————————————

[faegoddessog]

Day 5: High as a kite. 

Ok loves, I've decided to try something to stretch myself creatively with this challenge. I'm gonna dribble my drabble and see if I can tie each theme into an actual story that I'll write day by day! We'll see how it goes! Wish me luck!

Here is my ongoing masterlist of this project.

My other works are here if you are interested!

Check out the fun challenge here by @slowsweetlove . Feel free to jump in too!

Day 5: High as a kite. 

 Your apartment was modest by some standards, but it was perfect for you. Austin loved it, smiling at your one of a kind art on the walls, the view of a park across the street and the old school charm you had insisted on keeping. 

Austin had cooked, making due with your little used hardware. He made the most delectable brown sugar salmon with roasted baby carrots. He had picked up a bottle of wine, which was quickly drained by you both as he cooked. 

After the air had been cleared between you, it was like old times as you caught up. 

You tell him about how you worked in Milan for several years after graduating with your MBA in fashion management.  Opening a second bottle of wine that you had on hand, you explain that now you do sustainable fashion consulting for several of the big houses as well as some of the smaller start-ups. 

After dinner, he tells you about his latest projects playing Elvis then a WWII bomber pilot back to back. He’s on probably his third or fourth glass of wine as apposed to your two and you can tell he’s feeling it.

“I have one other big budget one lined up that I have to really get in shape for and another one that looks really cool where I’ll get to ride motorcycles. I’m really excited about them both. I’ll have to prepare them, like at the same time and one is a villain, oh my god I'm so excited! I feel like it might actually be really happening for me but I’m trying to just like.. Put my head down and work and not to get my hopes up because what if Elvis is a flop ? I mean it would seriously mess me up if it were, not that I’ve not been a part of things that didn’t do well, it’s just I spent so much time obsessing so hard on him and I didn't really think about anything else for like years. But I don’t know, Tom says that I did great and he’s got real big hopes for me!” He chatters on, you had no idea he was so talkative with a little drink in him. 

“Tom?” you prompt, sipping your wine, enjoying the info dump of his brain. 

“Yeah, Tom Hanks, didn’t I say that?” his brow creases as though he’s trying to remember what he just said. 

“Wait, wait, you worked with Tom Hanks??” you said incredulously. You had heard about a new Elvis movie coming out, but you really hadn’t paid it much attention. 

“Yup, and for him with the pilot thing” he says slurring his words a little, “he is amazing. And  Elvis, I could not have done it if I’d not done the play with Denzel-” 

“Denzel…. Like the Denzel?” you ask? What the actual fuck, Austin was getting his big boy acting pants. 

“Uh huh, that was here in New York. They both like fucking changed me, changed my whole acting…. thingy thing,  It’s like he was with me the whole fucking time. In shutdowns and shit… kept me sane,” then he starts laughing. “If… if wandering the beach laughing like Elvis is at all sane.”  

You shake your head.

“Oh hunny, I think you are as high as a kite,” you get up and get him a glass of water. 

“What? I’m not! Three sheets to the wind maybe, but I wouldn’t count it as high!” he giggles. 

“Here drink this,” you giggle back. 

credit to @saradika for the graphic!

Always tag me: @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight

"I've been tagged by you before Lumiere!": @thisworldisntrealhoney,  @1nho,  @megangovier, @briaandthephantoms, @andro-inherdreamworld @callumsgirl @blombardo  @fefeisastar @hacunamy @nestito702 @denised916 @jayydep @r0m4nitcl0v3r @heyidc03, @secondchild-2, @flander42 @natural-born-rebel-spirit @lecosymood @kathrynzaragoza @bsunshinexo @jayydep @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke

[gizmoharuhi]

I'm right there with you on wanting to replay dbh now! and yeah, getting all the endings is so hard... in part because some of them are so sad. Hank, Connor, and Kara/Alice's bad end routes all made me WEEP. I wish you the best of luck in getting them all, you're braver than I am 🫡 (I still need to read 1 specific magazine to get plat after playing it like a million times RIP)

The plat was fun for me! I could help you on the final magazine.. 🤔

AND YEAH ALL THOSE ENDINGS MAKE ME WEEP SO BAD, there literally has never been one ppint where I didn't cry over DBH

[positivelybeastly]

Silent Scream (bobby, wanna chance to yell at bobby Hank? if you're still doing this? c:)

"You see, your essential problem, Iceman, is that you are so incredibly, definitively, awe inspiringly stupid."

It's not an out of character line from the Director of X-Force, but considering the fact that they're within earshot of the world's best and brightest, within earshot of press and Avengers and celebrities, it is still - unexpected, to be sure. After the mess with the Terra Verdean delegation was sorted out, it appears, judging by the slight whiff of alcohol about him, that Beast has elected to avail himself of the bar.

Not that he needs alcohol to be unpleasant, of course, but it does help.

"And you see, it's always been that way. I would almost have to admire your commitment to the bit, if said bit wasn't one of the most irksome, unpleasant, and tiring performances I've ever seen in my entire life. Your ice form - not even your idea. That was Cyclops' suggestion, decades ago. Your ability to control both temperature and moisture - something that had to be pointed out to you by the Professor.

And, of course, the big one, the one that you had to have spelled out for you by our esteemed Marvel Girl. That must have been embarrassing for you. In fact, they all must have been just so very embarrassing for you. So obvious in hindsight, and yet you were completely blind, content to stumble on in your milquetoast mediocrity like a particularly uninspiring zombie until someone took you by the nose and forced you to think."

The Beast swirls his glass, a kind of animation in his eyes and voice and manner that's rare to see in him ever since he took on the task of protecting Krakoa from all who would harm it. He knocks back the whiskey before he all but discards the crystal glass on the nearest surface, only good, solid craftsmanship stopping it from shattering.

"Yet here you stand. Unashamed. Unashamed of your stupidity. Unashamed of the fact that everything special about you was gifted to you by either your genetics, or by someone else. None of it as a result of hard work, or application of self, or actual intelligence. Were it not for your luck to be a mutant, you would be living the kind of braindead, thoroughly unremarkable life that most of the human sheep are content to live.

I mean, accountancy? Really?"

His laugh is singularly cruel, singularly unpleasant, and Bobby might well be vaguely aware that Sage and Logan are slowly creeping a little closer, just in case the furry mutant takes another turn. But they needn't worry.

He's nearly done.

"Some of us are content to be led to what is great about us, Iceman. Others seize it. Others embrace it. Others . . ."

He brings up his massive blue hands and puts them on Bobby's shoulders, his fingers twitching like he wants to wrap them around his throat, and off in the distance, Scott, Warren and Jean all tense.

"Others wake up on their own, without having to be told. I can't believe I ever let you hold me back. Every moment I ever spent with you was a waste of time, and this is all you'll ever get from me, ever again."

He pushes Bobby away, turns on his heel, and leaves, intent on stalking back to his habitat alone.

One less distraction, now.

[gazingstarsabove]

HELO CIULD YOU MEYBE DO LIKE. triky w an s/o who got zedified. ty

of course! I only saw this now, sorry if I kept you waiting anon!!

•Okay let's say you first met Tricky when you were still a human/grunt, with your fun and loving nature he had grown attached, since you actually showed genuine curiosity and interest in him. Then eventually, that friendship turned into something more.

•Besides the contrast between you two, both of you loved one another dearly. You'd always stick together and do the most stupidest things!! Like collecting & gathering stuff, scavenging the dumpsters, and going on a massacre. That was until one day, Tricky and you split up to scavenge for stuff, getting the (most) coolest things and bring it to each other later.

•Though unfortunately for you, you were murdered brutally(by Hank). And just your luck, Jebus had revived you along with the other corpses around your body, using them as some sort of puppets and meat shields against Hank. Using your opportunity to flee the situation without getting harmed, you took it.

•After meeting up with Tricky, not only was he shocked, he almost seemed.. ecstatic? He was certainly loud, louder than he usually was. He couldn't help but examine every inch of you, your green skin, the blood from your injuries, down to your deteriorated, unhinged jaw. His heart raced seeing your features so similar to him now!

•He had never felt so in love before seeing you zed-ified. He'd definitely call you guys twinsies, maybe even say that you guys are matching.

–“CLOWN IS TWINSIES WITH GRUB!!!”

•Since being a zed meant that your skin was a lot more softer and sensitive, he'd still hold you but not as tight as he did. He'd compare your green skins together, admiring yours a lot more, running his clawed fingers across your arm. He'd always cup your jaw, boasting about it so much so that he pinches your cheeks while he vibrates with excitement.

•It was actually hard for a zed to remain in conscious and self aware of their surroundings, overtime you had to keep yourself up from slouching over and possibly loosing your jaw. But with the help of your lover you still had your head together! Literally.

•When needed, you two go out and hunt other humans/grunts to eat! You had to get used to the taste of actual human/grunt meat, since your cravings had actually diverted to something a lot more.. well, exotic I guess. You need to be with him all the time so you don't get mistaken for a bloodthirsty zed that needs to be killed, but in truth it's just a stupid excuse to hold your hand everywhere you guys go.

•Would definitely have picnics with you, bringing your favorites like intestines, blood, and most importantly sandwiches!

•Grunt or zed, either way, he'd still love you and fall for you more as time goes on.

[antigonenikk]

a, d, and o for the ask game!

A. Im going to say hoosier. He gets a lot of love but also we know so little about him even leckie in his memoir seems a bit lost about the man. My headcanon which is not true to real life at all lol is that after the war he moves in with his grandmother in indiana and eventually sets up a farm someplace nice. I have it in my head that he was one of the dust bowl kids from the 1930s and having to leave their family farm haunts him throughout his adolescence. Literally not true to life at ALL but to MEEE????? My hoosier def is an oakie !!! Also his favorite artist is woodie guthrie he is a country boy thru and thru

D. My mutuals know my disdain for episode 9 of band of brothers. Why are we following nixon looking for booze for half the episode???? Liebgotts trauma BARELY touched upon even tho his jewish identity is being exploited for the sake of cheap entertainment. Also the commandant thing and his beef with web is never resolved in a way that makes sense. In the script the man WAS a commandant which makes his and skinnys actions justified. Would have loved to see that fact addressed. Hanks/spielberg have no clue how to handle issues relating to jewish identity and never have its their worst failing esp since they insist on taking holocaust related projects again and again. Whatever !!!!

O. I do not understand winnix but …. I am happy that ….. oh ur making this hard on me. Ok this might be impossible. They served well in the military together? Idk. Best of luck dick!!! I hope u live a great sugar baby lifestyle on that mans dime :-)

[honey-minded-hivemind]

After they alert the others, and successfully get Reader back, they realize that caring for reader is going to be much harder and...weirder than they thought.

For one, Reader is covered in untreated injuries from the facility, from living in the walls, to living in the woods. (Those bloody footprints and hand prints? That was their blood. All the scientists and guards blood got washed away in a stream.) But anything with a screen immediately goes static or explodes in Reader's vicinity, so no heart monitor or anything like that.

Reader also needs new clothes. They've been wearing a stolen shirt of Logan's and shorts stolen from kitty, nothing else, and its torn to shreds. Both of them had been wondering wear their clothes went.

Reader's body has changed. Outside of the glowing eyes and spiked fingers, their teeth are razor sharp now and their tongue is long and spiked. Their hair seems to move on its own.

That's not even talking about their behavior. Even when they're unconscious, Reader is doing some freaky things. Sometimes they float, sometimes they sit straight up with their eyes wide open, sometimes black ink substance starts trailing down their face as they cry in their nightmares, sometimes their dreams will leak into reality.

Everyone is worried and doting over their poor baby. Doing whatever they can to heal them up and make them comfy.

No one is as worried as Storm is, when on her turn to watch over you, she gets up to get Reader another blanket when they grab her wrist and, fully awake, whisper

" Why did you bring me back? It's too dangerous for you. I can't be here."

She's terrified, to say the least. She's shushing Reader, pushing them back down gently, covering them in the blanket she got for them. It has little moons amd stars on it that glow in the dark, a gift she amd Evan picked out for Reader the day they got them back. She hopes they like it.

She knows Reader is... different, now. That their powers have spiraled out of control, that the experiments have affected their thoughts and the way they appear, she knows how they're struggling not to lose control. But she loves them, no matter what. They're one of her kids, they're someone who needs her, who needs them, and she can't abandon them to suffer again. None of them can!

She's careful tucking the blanket around and over Reader, careful of their claws and gazing quickly over the bandages wrapped around their body and neck. She needs to check with Hank and Logan if they've found any sedatives that work on Reader, or see if her nephew or Scott or the other teens have had any luck helping Reader feel more at home with them...

The shadows seem to curl around Reader as she goes to leave, amd she can't help but hope they're on Reader's side, and not another part of the torture done to them. She watches as those bright eyes follow her, like two lost little stars searching for the last ray of light in the dark. Deep down she hopes she brings them some comfort, even if it's just a small drop compared to what they need...

It may be hard, continuing to see Reader in this way, and having to keep them here where they can't be found, but if it means they're safe, and where they won't be hurt again, then it's worth it... Storm just hopes if Reader finds out, that they'll forgive them for it...

But for now, she needs to know what the others have managed to come up with, and if it will help Reader in any way... even in ways they won't appreciate at first...

(Yes, let's go even darker yet, shall we, @sugar-soda? Mwahahahaha~!)