#but mostly she just goes car engine mode

[cyberne0n]

my cat's new way to wake me up to tell me it's breakfast time is to lay down next to my head and starting purring as loud as she possibly can

[ynscrazylife]

Can I please please request one where Natasha and Yelena have another younger sister (Y/N) and she gets badly injured and her older sisters are hysterical since they’re afraid to lose one they love the most

A Race Against Time | romanoff fam fic

Summary: Natasha and Yelena do their best to help their hurt younger sister.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting!

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 |  Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/twitalents

“Everybody alright?” Natasha asked as Alexei and Melina approached her and Yelena. The redhead herself definitely hadn’t gotten out of the whole ordeal without injuries. In fact, from Dreykov punching her to the fight against the Widows, and the fight against Antonia (not to mention the injuries from the past few days that she hadn’t taken care of), she was in some pain. However she didn’t worry about herself, she knew she’d be fine. She always was.

Natasha glanced over and spotted Y/N making her way over to them, too. From the distance, Natasha couldn’t tell that she was limping and was very hurt.

“I am clearly injured,” Melina deadpanned, causing Natasha to look back over and send her adoptive mother a smile as an apology. With a quick glance, Natasha could tell that she’d be okay, she’d just need a cast on that ankle and-

Thump.

The sound, accompanied by Yelena’s loud gasp and yelp, broke through Natasha’s thoughts and caused her to whip around suddenly. The sight her eyes landed on instantly sent what felt like an ice shard plunging into her chest. No. No.

By the time she snapped out of it, Yelena was already by Y/N’s unconscious figure, which the thump must have been - her plummeting to the ground - and Alexei was helping Melina over as fast as he could. Natasha sped past them and dropped to her knees, her brain wired to already be processing the situation and formulating a plan, while she lightly stopped Yelena’s wrist to prevent her from going to shake Y/N.

“You don’t move someone who is unconscious unless necessary - it could injure them,” she breathed out. Yelena, who could see that her older sister was in autopilot mode, sat back and let her do her thing, opting to look up at her parents, instead.

Both their eyes were glued to Y/N. Alexei’s eyebrows crinkled and, after taking a big breath, muttered (just loud enough for them to hear), “There’s blood on you.”

Natasha’s eyes snapped down and sure enough, her knees were bloodied. She quickly looked up only to see blood beginning to come from Y/N’s stomach where she had fallen on her side. Closing her eyes for a moment to allow herself to think, Natasha carefully and gently pulled up Y/N’s shirt, only to see an open gash in the shape of the Widow hourglass.

“Wha-?” She said, barely forming a word, and Yelena leaned over to see.

She immediately began shaking her head and pushed Y/N onto her back. “I-I know what this is, I think. I remember hearing about a weapon that’d leave that mark,” she rambled out.

Melina peered over Natasha’s shoulder and when she saw it, her face went pale. “That-that weapon, it ejects a blast that makes that mark when it meets the skin. It was made as a precaution in case any of the Widows went rogue - it was made years ago. But only a few were made because they were so confident in themselves. It-it goes along with a process they constructed to re-brainwash the Widows. The blast gets under her skin, in her body, with a chemical that’s in it, and that chemical starts the brainwashing process,” she explained.

A park of hope entered Yelena’s eyes. “So she won’t be fully brainwashed?” She asked.

“Not without the rest of the procedure,” Melina began, but then her eyes widened when she remembered something and horror quickly flashed across her face. “But if the process isn’t completed within a certain time period, the chemical will wear off its brainwashing effects and instead will start hurting her . . . A lot . . . But I have an antidote-” her tone sped up now, “-It’s back at the house. We need to get her there.”

Natasha and Yelena nodded, both having gone through a great wave of emotions throughout Melina’s words. Yelena, while racked with worry, still remained hopeful, and Natasha did her best to be, too, but her tears were drying and she was sniffling.

“The jet is-” Alexei began to say, when the sound of the engines of cars rapidly approaching cut him off.

Natasha looked over. “Shit, Ross,” she said, regretting even tipping him off to their location in the first place.

Melina bit her lip. “You girls go. Take Y/N home. The antidote is labelled ‘Ant-Widow,’,” she told them firmly.

Yelena’s lips parted to protest, not wanting to split up, but catching Natasha picking up Y/N out of the corner of her eye stopped her. She nodded, rising to her feet.

“We’ll distract them. They won’t want anything to do with us when they realize you’re not here,” Melina insisted.

Natasha sent her a look that she could only hope was conveying everything she wanted it to. A million thoughts whizzed about in her mind, none making room for each other. She wondered, would they leave them alone? Or would they be taken into questioning? Shouldn’t she be the one facing Ross - since she called him there? Is Y/N going to be okay? Will they get there in time?

By the way Melina looked back at her, Natasha thought that her message had been received. There was no time to go over the plan any longer, if they stayed even a couple more seconds they’d get caught by Ross, whose army of cars headed to a halt.

Natasha bolted off in the jet’s direction, Yelena quick on her heels. They rushed inside and Natasha took her time to gently put Y/N down before going to the pilot seat. Yelena sat down in the back, wanting to watch over their little sister.

Neither of them said anything until Natasha had gotten them off the ground and away from the field. Yelena could hear the engine whirring and she knew that Natasha was going as fast as this aircraft could probably go.

“Natasha,” she said, her voice small and hesitant, reminding Natasha of her own self when she was younger. The redhead braced herself for her sister’s words. “Do you think we’ll get there in time?”

Natasha let out a slow yet steady breath, fighting back the urge to tell her not to say that. She wondered the same thing, and she hated it. She didn’t answer, though, because she didn’t want to lie. She didn’t know herself, and she also hated that.

Yelena looked down in defeat when she didn’t get an answer and continued watching Y/N. She couldn’t stop herself from worrying and when she spotted the other injuries — bruises, cuts, scrapes — littering her body, she got up and went to the back.

The blonde grabbed the med kit they had stored and went back, quickly opening it up and getting everything she needed. First, bandages. Yelena put pressure on the wound even though she knew it wouldn’t bleed out, and a twinge of guilt hit her when Y/N moved and groaned unconsciously.

She then wrapped up Y/N’s stomach and tended to her other injures, every so often glancing at Natasha, who she could see by the way she was sitting up straight that she was tense. Upset. Worried. Yelena had to admit she was feeling those same things but busied herself by taking care of Y/N.

This carried on and they were about ¾ there when everything shifted. Y/N, who had been mostly quiet throughout the journey, suddenly rolled onto her side, eyes opening with a startled gasp.

Natasha frantically looked up at Yelena and the latter jumped to resolve the situation. Gently, she put her hands on her younger sister’s shoulders and tried to turn her onto her back, but Y/N fought her off and scurried back, against the wall.

“Y/N,” Yelena said, slowly putting her hands up in a “surrender” gesture.

The younger one shook her head as tears began to flow down her cheeks. “It-it hurts,” she got out, wrapping her arms around herself.

Yelena sent Natasha a frightened, desperate look and the glint in Natasha’s eyes held tears in them. “I can’t go any faster!” She cried out in frustration, her anger at her helplessness beginning to grow.

Yelena turned back to Y/N. “Take deep breaths with me, okay?” She said, and took a couple deep breaths to show her. It took Y/N a second, but she followed along. However, the pain didn’t take a break for long, and quickly came crashing back to her, like a magnet.

She let out another cry, but this one filled with that much more anguish, desperation, a pure rage from wanting it to be over, a rage that nearly caused her to vomit. Y/N leaned forward, hoping that there was something - anything - that could relieve this pain for even just a second. The warmth she was soon filled with from her older sister’s arms wrapping around her and pulling her close did nothing to soothe pain, but she found someone to have a steady grip on, someone to hold.

This continued on. In every cry let out, Yelena could’ve sworn each one was louder than the last. She didn’t know what to do so she did the only thing she could and stayed there. After  a particularly loud cry from Y/N, Yelena couldn’t stop a “Natasha!” from escaping.

“I’m trying!” She shouted over the engine and over Y/N, doing her best to blink away the tears and focus, but everytime she was on the brink of it, something tore her away.

After what felt like what could only be described as eons, Natasha managed to touch down in the same spot she had just a day ago. The moment they made contact, she leapt out of her seat, nearly tumbling to the floor, and practically fell against the door.

“Stay with her,” was all she said to Yelena before pushing all her weight against the door and breaking off into a run towards the house.

Natasha had run fast before. To escape Antonia, on countless SHIELD missions, and even to beat Sam in a race, but none amounted to this. The mountains and trees whipped by so fast that she felt like she was in a race car and it made her head spin. Nonetheless (and she thanked her extensive training for that), Natasha’s stamina held out and she ran through the house, tripping over things and knocking others over, until she reached Melina’s office.

At first, everything looked like a normal office space for a normal business woman, but the underlying science and spy secrecy that she knew had to be inside was revealed. Cabinets upon cabinets filled with vials upon vilas and files upon files. She scoured the entire room and nearly dropped the green-filled file when she saw its label. This was it.

A moment of victory passed until Natasha remembered the weight of the situation and she got back on her feet, running like the wind, and leaving behind the office looking like some raccoons had gotten inside.

By the time she reached the top of the hill, Natasha could make out the outline of Yelena carrying Y/N (who was draped over her like a curtain, by the way) toward her.

They met in the middle and Yelena put Y/N down, the older sisters kneeling beside her. Y/N was half-conscious at this point and Natasha moved at the speed of light to get the vial lid off. “She was getting worse, I couldn’t wait!” Yelena yelled.

When she got it open, Natasha pushed it towards Y/N’s lips. “Y/N, honey, c’mon, you gotta drink,” she encouraged, hand trembling as Y/N attempted to fight her off. It was only Yelena running her hands through her hair that calmed her down, and she took a small sip of the vial’s contents at first before gulping it down.

When she stopped squirming and seemed to no longer be in pain, instead falling into a peaceful sleep, that’s when both Natasha and Yelena had calmed down. It had been a rollercoaster, but they did it, and she was okay. The two held each other, relieved.  

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[shewillreadyou]

Retrospect for Life

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N: Bree meets Emmett’s parents. Then her Dad meets them too. Will this end on a good note? A big Thank You to @secretaryunpaid​ for the preread.

Disclaimers: Most characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: Language and adult content.

Catch up: Ride or Die

Word Count: 3019 ish

Pairings: MC (Bree Hill) x OC (Emmett Perry)

Song inspiration: Retrospect for Life-Common

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.​

She stood in the entryway of Emmett’s town-home with her mouth agape hoping that no one noticed the blush of her cheeks. His mother was the definition of youth and beauty. Not to mention his father, Emmett was a perfect mix of the two of them. It was clear where Emmett got his stunning good looks. 

“Mr. Perry, Mrs. Perry, the pleasure is all mine.”

“Mommy, since when do you just pop in on me?”

“Did he just call her Mommy?” she thought to herself.

“Since you’ve taken a serious lady friend that you haven’t introduced to us.”

“Em, where are your manners? Please, do come in,” Bree stepped aside, one arm wrapped around Emmett’s waist to welcome his parents.

“May I offer you something to drink?”

“She’s very well mannered as well, Nathaniel.”

“I can see that darling.”

“Thank you, we’ll have Perrier.”

Bree ducked into the kitchen trying to suppress the smile creeping across her face. 

“What a pretentious beverage. It’s even more telling that Emmett actually has that in stock,” she thought to herself. 

When she returned to the living room, Emmett had an unreadable look on his face. Bree turned on her most charming smile, noticing that Mr. Perry hadn’t taken his eye off of her. 

“So Bree, please sit.”

She sat. Suddenly feeling like she was on display. Emmett moved closer protectively placing his hand on her knee. 

“I was telling my parents that I’d like for them to meet your Dad the next time he is here.”

“That sounds like a great idea, Em. I’m sure he would be thrilled. Maybe we could all have dinner,” Bree said sheepishly.

“Dear, Emmett tells us that you are a BioChem major?” 

“Yes Ma’am, I have always been obsessed with science.”

“That’s quite the workload. I’m surprised you have time to entertain our son. Tell me, what do you plan to do with it?” Mr. Perry asked as he sipped his beverage.

“Yes Sir, It is quite the load, but Emmett is great at making sure I’m focused. I’ve toyed with doing something with forensics and possibly going to medical school.”

“A doctor? With manners and her own hair. Color me impressed. Emmett normally goes for girls who major in Art and share a brain with their roommates.”

Bree shared a giggle with his parents and the mood seemed to lighten considerably.

“This has been delightful. But, we must run. We have to check into our hotel before 3pm. Dinner reservations at Crave at 7. Don’t be late.”   

“Yes Ma’am,” Emmett didn’t hesitate. 

“It was good to meet you Bree, we’ll see you tonight,” Mr. Perry said, still never taking his eye off of her.

“Likewise.”

They headed out the front and Bree watched Mr. Perry as he opened the door to his silver S class Mercedes for his wife.

“I’m sorry. I had no idea that they would just show up like that.”

“It’s ok. I didn’t know that you had taken a serious lady friend. Maybe I should leave. I wouldn’t want her to get the wrong impression,” she said teasingly. Her eyes went wide and her hand demurely covered her mouth.

Emmett smiled, pulling her into his embrace. “I’m sorry. It’s been a minute. I got excited and told my Mom about you.” 

“And what exactly did you tell mommy?”

“Basically, that I have it bad. Now, do you have a nice dress to wear to dinner?”

“I should be able to come up with a little something.”

“Take my car. Pick me up by 6:30p?”

She smirked. “Are these baby mama benefits? I get to drive your Benz? What would Kira think?” she teased.

“You got jokes! You are having my baby. You can have my Benz and if you see Kira, wink at her for me.”

“Bye boy. You are trying to get me killed. See you at 6:30.”

She headed back to her dorm to shower, and wash her hair. She pulled her long wavy tresses back into a sleek ponytail. She only had a couple of options, so she chose her graduation dress. It was a black boat neck dress with a modest split in front. She paired it with black strappy heels, a small black clutch and gold accessories. 

She arrived at his place to pick him up she had packed another bag, warming to the idea of spending more time at his place. When he heard the garage door he opened the door and noticed her pulling the large duffel bag out of the trunk. 

“B, I’ll get it. I don’t want you lifting anything that’s heavy.”

“How do you think it got in here? I’m fine.”

He rushed over to the trunk and as he lifted the bag on to his shoulder he noticed her dress. She looked like a snack. He swallowed hard before licking his lips and biting the bottom lip. She looked over her shoulder at him. 

“You good?”

“Yeah, B.. uh, you.. you look--”

“Is it too much? I was trying to find something nice, that didn’t show too much skin.”

“No, I'm speechless. You look. WOW. I mean you look beautiful. I feel lucky to have you on my arm.”

“Oh Emmett, stop it. You’re gonna give me a big head. But thank you I guess it’s a far cry from the sweats and tees I’m normally in.”

He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her neck. 

“I mean I like the sweats too but, damn girl,” he ran his strong hand up her arm and she shivered.

She placed her glossy lips at his ear and whispered, “dinner, Emmett.”

 Dinner was fairly pleasant, more casual conversation, and getting to know one another. His mom was clearly impressed, but the jury was still out on the patriarch of the Perry family. Before they wrapped up the evening, the date was set for them to meet Mr. Hill. 

The two weeks passed quickly and before she knew it, she was picking her Daddy up from the airport.

“A Mercedes Benz? Where is the GTO?” 

“It’s in Emmett’s garage. He had to work an event this evening, so I just dropped him off on campus before I picked you up.”

“Do you normally drive his car?”

“Yes, he told me i’m his girlfriend.”

“You didn’t know that before? He’s kind of marked his territory.”

“Daddy?!?!” she laughed.

“How have you been? Do I need to start looking for jobs on the east coast?

“I’ve been good. I go to class everyday, I eat mostly at Emmett’s, he cooks healthy food and reminds me everyday to take my prenatal vitamins. I go to bed early, and I need naps frequently, but i’m ok.” 

An awkward silence fell over the car. She waited for him to speak instead he kept his eyes on his phone, texting furiously. 

“Daddy, may I ask you a question?”

 “Yeah, Babygirl. What’s up?”

“Why have you been so calm through all of this? I was expecting you to yell or disown me.”

“Well, I didn’t know if I would tell you this but, how old do you think your Mom would be now if she were still with us?”

“Let’s see, she was born in 82 so, what? 38?”

“Yes, now subtract your age from 38.”

She had always been great with numbers. Shock and realization washed over her face almost immediately. Her big brown eyes fell on her Daddy and before she could speak. 

“How could I be angry with you for doing the exact same thing that your mother and I did at your age?”

“But Mom had been a nurse for as long as I could remember.”

“Yes, you were four years old when she graduated from nursing school. We didn’t have the help that I am offering you. So, if you don’t finish what you came here to do then, I will be angry. You can do anything you put your mind to, no excuses.”

“I will Daddy, promise. But, about that. Emmett wants to keep the baby here in Langston with us. He’s probably right Daddy. Four months at a time is a really long time to be away from my baby.”

“Don’t get upset but, I told your Aunt Rhyan, she suggested a night nanny for me. I’m sure if you two decided to keep the baby here, we can find some help. I think that I can cover a nanny with my FSA account.”

“I’m not upset. Is she still in Boston? You know, Emmett’s family is from Boston. I will be calling her if--”

Her Daddy glared at her.

“I meant, when I go to medical school.”   

“Sounds good, now tell me about Emmett’s parents.”

“Oh, well they seem nice. I met them a few weeks ago. His Dad is a Kappa. He’s the owner of an engineering firm near Boston. I think he expects Emmett to take over one day. His Mom is really pretty. She is a partner at her accounting office. Emmett is really close with her. They talk everyday.”

“Interesting, what else do you know about his family?”

“Detective mode much? He has a brother at NYU and twin sisters.”

“I can’t help it. Where did his parents go for undergrad?”

“They both are Langston grads.”

“Hmm, do you have an address for them?”

“Daddy!” she warned as she pulled in front of his hotel. 

“You’re right I’ll find the address myself,” he said as he leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Behave, and we will pick you up right here at 6pm. I have to get to class.”

After class she picked Emmett up from his event and they went back to his place to get dressed for dinner at Oishii, a very upscale Asian restaurant. 

She chose an ivory one sleeved fitted dress that hit her right at the knee and he wore grey slacks, a crisp white button up and a black blazer. When she was dressed, she stood looking in the floor length mirror in the corner of his room. He watched from across the room before moving behind her and snaking one arm around her waist. His large hand rested on her abdomen as he sniffed her hair.

“What are you doing, creep?”

“You smell like dessert.”

“Really Em?”

“Yeah, and I feel sorry for this kid. Look at how good we look together.”

“You do look pretty tasty tonight,” she said as she walked out of the room.

“Girl, don’t write a check you aren’t prepared to cash,” he said as he followed her out of the room.

After picking up her Dad they headed to the restaurant for the 6:30 reservation.

“Mr. Perry, Mr. and Ms. Hill, your party has arrived and are waiting for you. Right this way.”

They follow a thin asian man to the center of the empty restaurant where the Perry’s were waiting with drinks and appetizers. They stood as Bree approached. Mrs. Perry pulled her in for a hug and kissed her on both cheeks.

“Oh Bree, you look simply ravishing in that dress. Emmett won’t be able to focus dear,” she giggled. 

“Thank you Ma’am, you are too kind.”

 “Mr. and Mrs. Perry, meet my Daddy, Detective Alvin Hill.”

“Detective Hill, it’s good to meet you brother,” Mr. Perry said as he offered his hand.

“Mr. Perry, Mrs. Perry, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Please, sit. Your daughter is one impressive young lady, you must be proud.”

“I am. Thank you. Likewise, I have been oddly impressed by your son as well. I’m usually not a fan of the boys my daughter chooses to consort with, but Emmett has been a breath of fresh air. Not to mention if my Babygirl is happy, then so am I.”

“So Dad, Detective Perry here is an UCLA grad. He and his late wife Alicia, were college sweethearts, like you and Mom.”

“And like you and Bree?” his Mom chimed in.

“Yeah Mommy, that would be a good look. Hopefully, she won’t dump me for the next charming guy who moves her into her dorm,” he said as he beamed at Bree and winks.

Just then a server comes with a plate of raw sushi and places it in front of Bree, and a plate of tempura in between Alvin and Emmett. Mr. Perry eyed Emmett suspiciously as he slid the plate of raw sushi in front of him. 

“Son, is there a problem?”

“No, no problem. Bree just doesn’t like raw sushi.”

A wave of nausea threatened to overtake her at the smell of the fish.

“If you will excuse me.” 

Bree stood and headed to the restroom. Emmett excused himself to check on her.

“So Mr. Perry, our children seem to be getting serious.”

“Please, call me Nate. And it would appear so. I believe that my son is quite taken with your lovely daughter. I assume that she is on birth control.”

“Why would you assume that? I would have assumed that you taught your son to use a rubber.”

“You know they are adults, and I would be naive to think that they aren’t being intimate. I’m just trying to protect my son.”

“Nathaniel, you are being quite presumptuous,” Mrs. Perry warned.

“My daughter doesn’t sleep around if that is what you are trying to insinuate.”

“Whoa, Dad tell me you are not sitting here discussing our sex life,” Emmett asked returning from the restroom.

 “Actually, he has quite a bit to say about my daughter.”

“Nathaniel, Emmett’s right. This is hardly an appropriate time to have this conversation,” Ella chimes in.

“Actually Mommy, while we are on the topic. Bree and I have some news.”

“News? What is it baby?”

“Mommy, Pops, we don’t know how else to tell you this, so I’ll just say it, Bree’s pregnant.”

Ella squealed. “I’m gonna be a Glam-ma?”

“Not so fast, Ella. How can you be sure you are the father, son?”

“Here we go. I am the father. I’m sure of it.”

“Like hell you are. I’d like a DNA test.”

“I thought you might say that.”

“Why? Because Bree here doesn’t know how to keep her knees together?”

Emmett reached into his suit coat producing a copy of the DNA results.

“Are you happy now?”

“No, I’m not happy to watch you throw your life away on a piece of tail.”

“Nathaniel Perry, you are OUT OF LINE! Apologize at once.”

“I will not, the girl is beneath us and so is her father.”

“You don’t mean that. He didn’t mean that!”

“You are entitled to your opinions but keep my daughter out of it.”

“Dad, you will not talk about her like that in my presence. This is not her fault. We both made a mistake. But ultimately, I didn’t protect her. In the heat of the moment, I chose not to wear a condom. Dad if you can’t see this for what it is, then I guess this conversation is over.”

“She is smart Emmett, think! She saw you as a meal ticket, and you fell into her trap.”

“Nathaniel, I can’t believe you. You would speak of the mother of your grandchild this way?”

Bree sat speechless as hot tears ran down her face. 

“Man, my daughter doesn’t need your money. We aren’t rich and we don’t all drive a Benz, but we are comfortable.” 

“Come on B. We should go.”

“Yeah Babygirl, let’s go before I catch a case out here in the sticks. Buying out this restaurant was a power move. But he’s playing checkers and I’m playing chess.”

“I’m coming with you. If I have to spend another moment in his presence I don’t know what I will do.”

Bree nodded as Emmett wrapped his arm around her waist and led her out to his car. 

Once inside, there was more awkward silence, as Emmett rubbed Bree’s knee, she struggled to steady her breathing. Her Daddy furiously texted on his phone, while Mrs. Perry searched for the words to comfort her.

“I know you were probably expecting me to be upset. But the truth is, me being upset wouldn’t help or change anything. You two are consenting adults and I’m gonna be a Glam-ma. This won’t be a walk in the park for you two, but your father and I will help as much as we can. You have to prioritize your education now.”

“Yeah Mommy. We appreciate it, but it didn’t seem like Dad got the memo. I can’t believe the things he said.” 

“He will come around. Also, he may have had a little too much to drink.”

“Yeah well, a drunken man’s words speak a sober man’s thoughts. It will be a minute before I can forgive him. He needs to apologize to Bree and her father. He was way out of line.”

“I do apologize for my husband's behavior, Alvin. I promise I don’t know what has gotten into him.”

 “Don’t worry about it Ella.”

“Babygirl, say something. Are you ok?”

“No, Daddy, I’m so sorry,all of this is my fault.” she sobbed.

“That fuckin’ bastard!”

“Emmett language!”

“I’m sorry Mommy, but I don’t care who he is, he doesn’t get to make Bree cry.”

Just then Ella’s phone rings. 

[This is Ella.]

[Ella, it’s me Nate. I’m down here at Langston Police Department. I got pulled over after pulling out of the parking lot of the restaurant. I was arrested and charged with a DUI. You have to come post my bail.]

[Ok, dear. I’ll be there when you are ready to apologize to Alvin, Bree and Emmett.]

[You have got to be kidding me, Ella.]

[Oh, what’s that dear? You’re still being unreasonable? What a shame. I guess I have to go now. I’ll check on you in the morning.]

Alvin’s phone chirped with a text message as they ended the call. 

** 1 Unread Message from Sgt. Massey**

 Done. Have a good night Detective. 

Alvin smiled placing his phone back into the inside pocket of his blazer.

“Checkmate motherfucker.”

Tagging: @pixie88​ @txemrn​ @khoicesbyk​ @lucy-268​ @lovelyladyk88​ @choicesfannatalie​ @kimmiedoo5​ @secretaryunpaid​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @lem-20​ @maurine07​ @romewritingshop​ @texaskitten30​ @secretwolfdreamertree​ @mom2000aggie​ @bebepac​ @ao719​ @bbrandy2002​ @shanzay44​ @wingedhairstylemusicweasel​ @sfb123​ @queenjilian​ @dcbbw​ @shannonsaid​@romereadingshop​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @missdreamsalot​ @blackkingliamstan​ @burnsoslow​ @zaffrenotes​ @choiceslady​ @tayroleplays​  @cooljustanotherrookiesportskid​ @omgjasminesimone​ @janezillow​ @utterlyinevitable​ @justanotherrookie​  @openheartthot​ @rookie-ramsey​ @aussieez​ @fanjessfic​ @starrystarrytrouble​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @cocomaxley​ @the-pale-goddess @the-soot-sprite @kat-tia801​ @kingliam2019​ @mskaneko​ @blackcatkita​ @bay-lee​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @bobasheebaby​ @darley1101​​

[litwitlady]

Send Me Home (1/?)

Read on AO3.

‘The Braves are down to their last at bat, Jeff. And it’s Michael Guerin in the on-deck circle. What’s Ramon’s strategy here? Does he try to jam him up inside or keep firing fastballs and hope Guerin can’t catch up?’

It’s September in Atlanta and the Braves are playing the Marlins. Every game counts as both teams vy for a spot in October baseball. Michael Guerin is a lead candidate for MVP, and he’s always a threat in the bottom of the ninth with two outs and the bases loaded. The sellout crowd roars as his walk-up music begins to play.

I was born to the desert And to the desert I’ll return Sun-soaked and leathered Tattered and tethered Send me home, send me home, send me home

‘Ramon’s got that curveball, Chip. I’m not sure Guerin’s ever met a fastball he couldn’t hit. Especially in the bottom of the ninth. So, I think Ramon starts with the curveball even if that’s exactly what Guerin’s expecting.’

Michael steps into the batter’s box and takes a couple of quick practice swings, eyes wide and watching Ramon’s every move. He squares his hips and lowers his hands on the bat just a touch. It’s an adjustment he’s been working on for the past month or so with great success. Ramon lets loose his first pitch. As expected, it’s a nasty curveball and a pitch Michael has struck out on more than once during his twelve year career. But this time he’s prepared and anticipates perfectly where the bottom of the curve will land. He shoots a laser to shallow right field, and it drops in for a walk-off single. The dugout empties and everyone tackles him as he crosses home plate, one game closer to October.

--------

Later that night, Michael sits on the tailgate of his Chevy, beer in hand and staring up at the stars like so many nights before. Several of the guys had harassed him about going out to celebrate, but he’s not in the mood. He’s never in the mood these days. The winning still feels good and the possibility of the MVP is a dream. But for a long time now, he’s felt like there’s something missing in his life. Something essential, something elusive, something just out of his reach.

The truth is that he’s lonely. It’s a truth he can admit to himself when he’s alone underneath the cosmos watching the stars blink down at him against the wide expanse of space.

There have been relationships along the way. Women he’s dated earnestly. Once upon a time, maybe even a couple he could have loved. When he was younger, there had also been a few men. But none recently. The deeply rooted homophobia of baseball to blame. Mostly anyway. It’s strange now - everyone knows he’s bisexual, a simple Google search is all it takes. But he’s fairly certain baseball collectively decided to ignore his sexuality altogether after he got called up to the majors all those years ago.

He wants to believe he’s not afraid to be seen with men. He tells himself it’s just simpler this way, less complicated. Fewer awkward questions and the focus remaining on his athletic abilities rather than his sex life. Besides, only two major league players have ever come out and they both only did so after they’d retired. He supposes maybe he counts as the third. It’s not the stuff of fairytales, and Michael had learned that lesson during his brief stint in Double-A ball.

That feels like a lifetime ago.

Alex Manes’ new album drifts through the truck’s windows. His low, throaty voice practically purring into Michael’s ears. He’s been a big fan of Alex and his music for several years now. They’re both from New Mexico and the way he sings about the desert rings true enough to Michael that listening to one of his songs sends him right back home. Despite their many issues, he misses his brother and sister so badly sometimes he can barely breathe. Alex’s music reminds him of all the things and all the people he’s left behind - for better or worse. A couple of years ago, he’d had the opportunity to see Alex perform live but he’d turned it down. He still can’t explain why.

The night stretches out before him. Beer and music lulling him into a peaceful sleep until a bright light flashes in his face and startles him awake. He sits up and raises his hands peacefully. ‘Hey, Ernie.’

‘Oh, Mr. Guerin. I didn’t recognize you. What are you still doing here? It’s past midnight.’ He clicks the flashlight off and clips it back onto his belt. ‘Congrats on the walk-off!’

Michael shrugs. ‘Thanks. Didn’t want to go home just yet. Like watching the stars at night. But I haven’t seen you in a while. The grandkids still running circles around you?’

‘You know it! Caleb just turned five and is a holy terror. Michelle is eight going on eighteen. I can barely get a word in edgewise between the two of them.’ His eyes shine even in the darkness, crinkling at the edges.

Michael’s heart aches at Ernie’s easy, simple joy, but he manages a genuine smile thanks to the night’s shadows softening the edges of his jaw. ‘That sounds nice.’ He hops off his tailgate. ‘I’ll get out of your hair. Got an early game anyway. Need to get some sleep.’

‘Well, now, don’t let me chase you off. I don’t mind the company. It gets a little spooky at night. You can always come knock on my door if you ever need anything.’ Ernie opens the Chevy’s door for Michael and shuts it behind him. ‘All these other guys with their flashy sports cars and you in this old rust bucket. You’re a weird one, Mr. Guerin. But I like that about you.’

Michael runs his hands around the cracked steering wheel. ‘Most days this truck is about the closest thing to home I’ve got. There’s still desert dirt in the bed and an engine I rebuilt myself. What the fuck would I do with a Ferrari?’

They both laugh and Michael waves and honks his horn as he pulls out of the player’s lot. The streets are mostly empty, cars keeping to the well-lit interstate at night. He decides to stay on surface roads and take the long way home, radio softly playing old country songs. His thoughts drift to tomorrow’s game and the rookie pitcher the Marlins are starting. His own rookie year had been tough, and he makes a mental note to speak to the kid at some point during the game, ask him how he’s doing and if he’s being treated well.

The streetlights along Peachtree illuminate his path through Brookhaven. He crosses into Atlanta city limits and enters Buckhead just as ‘Lay Me Down’ by Loretta Lynn and Willie Nelson starts to play through his speakers. And all too soon, he turns down his street and opens the cedar gate at the end of his driveway, parking his truck and sitting in the darkness until the song comes to an end.

Climbing out of his truck, he unlocks the front door with his telekinesis, slipping inside quietly and deactivating his alarm system. He’d bought the house in foreclosure, spending most of his money on remodeling the mid-century ranch. It’s not extravagant, but it’s the most expensive thing he owns. He’d even let Isobel fly out to decorate the place within a very strict budget, and he’d had to admit she’d done a great job - one side of his front door Atlanta, the other side New Mexico.

But even so, it has never felt like home.

The first few nights he’d spent in the house had been rough. It was too quiet and too soft and too much. More than once he’d grabbed his ancient, worn sleeping bag and crawled into the bed of his truck. Sleeping hard on the uncomfortable. ribbed metal but beneath the stars he loved so much. The morning dew waking him with the sun each morning.

These days he manages to sleep in bed at night, but only because he’d installed two skylights overhead so that the stars would always be his. And only his. He rarely brings anyone home anymore, preferring their house to his. But when he does, he takes them to a guest bedroom. None of them ever seem to mind how empty the space is or how devoid of personality. Four blank walls and a lone bed filling the room. Why would they? It’s not Michael the foster kid from the desert they’re sleeping with. It’s Michael Guerin the multi-millionaire first baseman with the single-season home run record and the aw-shucks, good boy smile.

Tonight he doesn’t bother turning on any lights. He just pads through the kitchen to grab an apple and a bottle of water, undresses and climbs into bed. He takes a large bite of the granny smith and pulls out his phone, calling Isobel.

‘Congrats on the walk-off!’ He can hear another game in the background. Isobel had never watched a baseball game in her life - including any of his - until the day he’d gotten drafted right out of high school. But now she watches all of them. Or as many of them as possible. Her scouting reports are better than anything stamped official and readily available in the team clubhouse.

‘Thanks. Didn’t really see the ball that well tonight, though. Is Max there?’ It’s stupid to ask when he already knows the answer.

‘Out with Liz. They’ve been inseparable ever since she moved back to Roswell. It’s gross and I miss you.’ The sound on her tv goes silent and he knows she’s settling in for a long conversation. ‘Tell me about tomorrow. Any surprises?’

‘No. New kid on the mound just called up. Got a mean slider. Torres has some pain in his wrist so he’ll be benched.’ Michael finishes his apple in two large bites and guzzles his water, listening to Isobel pound away at her keyboard already deep in research mode. ‘Might get me moved up to the number two slot.’

They spend fifteen minutes strategizing. It’s what they do most nights. Isobel critiquing the numbers based on intuition and her own database of knowledge concerning the human psyche, while he runs statistical analyses and probabilities in his head faster than humanly possible. Michael suggests more than once that she’d make a great scout and that maybe when he retires they can go into business together. He’s told her this a million times, but she only laughs him off and reminds him that she already has a job.

‘A worthless job that doesn’t pay you what you deserve.’ He reaches for the tv remote on his nightstand but can’t find it. Not that it matters. He switches the television on with his mind and nods his head through the channels, stopping on an old western and muting the volume.

‘Philanthropy is not worthless, Michael!’ She sighs loudly to punctuate her exasperation. ‘And my salary is not the point - the point is helping people. Besides, I have all of Noah’s money and can negotiate more pay any time I choose.’

That he believes. ‘How’d your date go last night?’ Asking Isobel about her date absolutely means she’ll push him to share something just as personal. But it was her first official date with a woman and he genuinely wants to know how it went. No matter the price he’ll pay.

‘Really, really, really well.’ He can hear the grin in her voice and it makes him smile. ‘She’s a cardiologist and very good with her hands. Valenti makes a pretty superb matchmaker. Maybe I’ll ship him your way because you could certainly use the help.’

Michael rolls his eyes and fakes a groan. ‘You can keep Valenti. Don’t you think it’s weird to have your ex setting you up on dates? Do you really think he’s the best judge of character?’

‘Kyle knows me better than most. He was my first relationship after Noah and he put up with a lot. I trust him implicitly with my heart and yours. Plus, I was the one who broke up with him.’

‘My heart is fine, thanks.’ He lies smoothly and knows exactly how she’s going to respond.

‘I can’t stand the thought of you all the way across the country in that foreign place with no one to go home to at night.’

He snorts. ‘It’s called Georgia, Iz. And I’m not home enough for a relationship to work right now.’

‘Half the guys on your team - on any team! - are married. So that’s a pisspoor excuse. You keep pushing everyone away. Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I know you, Michael. As soon as you start to feel something, the doors slam shut and you become another stereotypical lonewolf cowboy.’ Her voice is loud now, vehement and self-righteous. They’ve reenacted this scene so many times it feels very paint by number at this point. ‘I hardly ever hear a smile in your voice anymore.’

She’s right and she knows it. He used to love dating, meeting new people. First kisses and first fucks. Last kisses and farewell fucks. He lived for those moments and now he hardly ever looks anyone in the eye. ‘We have this conversation at least once a month. And nothing has changed. It’s too hard right now, Iz. I’m too known to ever really be known. Not the way I would want to be. Not in any way that I would trust.’

There’s no use arguing so they move on to easier topics. Max and LIz’s ongoing romance, details of Isobel’s date, Maria’s remodel of the Pony thanks to a very generous anonymous donation. Every word out of her mouth squeezes his heart a little bit tighter until it’s too much and he says goodnight.

Flipping onto his side, he reaches his arm out to the other side of the bed, running his hand over the cold, unwrinkled sheet. His eyes land on the empty pillow no head ever touches and tries to imagine a face looking back at him. A face that might smile suggestively or quietly murmur goodnight. But he’s unable to conjure anything beyond a blank, shapeless outline. It makes him feel pathetic so he yanks the pillow underneath his own head and forces his eyes shut, trying in vain to quiet his mind. Despite his best efforts, sleep takes its sweet time finding him.

The next morning he’s exhausted but gets to the field early. He’d woken up to a cryptic message from Isobel. There’s a surprise waiting for you after the game! Stick around this time, Michael. Don’t make me get on a plane. He’s sure that can’t mean anything good, but he attempts to put it out of his mind for now.

The ballpark is already bustling with activity. Michael heads into the clubhouse to change. He stops and asks Stan, their hitting coach, for some extra work before the rest of the team arrives. He’s worried about how he’s been shifting his wrists recently and wants someone else’s opinion. The adjustments he’d made last night seem to be working, but he’s worried about straining a muscle or tweaking the wrong tendon. Two of his teammates are already on the IL with wrist pain. He doesn’t want to be next, especially with the postseason race and his run at MVP on the line.

Michael finds Danny Marks asleep in one of the clubhouse’s leather chairs. He swats him on the head on the way to his locker, laughing at Danny’s loud yelp. ‘Fuck, man, you’re always asleep. How did you manage to stay awake on the mound long enough to put together two Cy Young seasons?’

‘Talent, Guerin. Talent. You should try it sometime. Maybe then you’ll win MVP.’ Danny yawns and stretches his arms over his head. Michael glares at him. ‘Don’t worry. You’re still the favorite. Our very own diamond darling. No one else is getting their own personal concert any time soon.’

‘What?’ He sits on the chair at his locker, blinking at Danny in confusion. ‘Personal concert?’ Isobel’s strange text message flashes through his head again while he inwardly groans.

‘Oh, yeah.’ Danny grins and crosses his ankles on the table in front of him, brashly enjoying the way Michael squirms. ‘Alex Manes is traveling down from Nashville just for you - baseball’s most beloved first baseman.’ He throws a toy football at Michael’s head, chuckling when it bounces off his curls. ‘He’s not bad looking, you know.’

‘Stop.’ Danny is Michael’s best friend on the team and the only one he feels comfortable enough to have this conversation with. ‘Whose idea was this? Did Isobel do something? Or was this you?’

Michael doesn’t want this. Not at all. And he can’t exactly explain why. Music is personal to him - profoundly personal. Always has been since he was nothing but an unloved kid trapped in various violent foster homes. It was music that had kept him warm at night and music that had loved him best. The only escape available to him during most of his darkest hours.

Over the years, there have been many artists he’s considered favorites. Most of them old country crooners or folk song heroes. Much like Alex Manes. But with Alex, it’s something more. Something he has a hard time vocalizing. They are both from New Mexico. Both spent a chunk of their formative years in Roswell. Michael has read or watched multiple interviews with Alex where he’s alluded heavily to an abusive father. His lyrics certainly do the same. Lots of kids grow up that way - Michael knows he’s not alone in that particular fate - but the way Alex puts that pain to music settles something inside his chest that has never been settled before.

So the thought of meeting Alex worries Michael. They say don’t meet your heroes for a reason. In his head, Alex represents a sense of safety, a sense of home. What happens when they meet and that’s taken from him? Because maybe Alex is a liar. Or maybe he’s a dick. Either possibility is very real. He’s also a vet, and Michael hates, hates, hates the military. And he doesn’t want to hate Alex. Doesn’t want to lose his music. Cannot emotionally afford to lose his music if he’s being honest.

‘Isobel apparently knows someone who knows someone who knows someone. I just didn’t try and stop her. Or Lena.’ Danny’s wife is Isobel’s favorite human. It’s the worst thing that’s happened to Michael since meeting Danny. The two of them have done nothing but make his life one unasked for surprise after another. ‘Besides, even if you hate it, the team could really use some fun before heading into the postseason. Some good old-fashioned team bonding, my friend. And this time, you don’t get to run away. The guys need to see their captain smile every once in a while.’

Michael sighs and changes into his warmups. Danny’s phone rings and he grins one last time at Michael before disappearing for some privacy. Michael decides to push Alex Manes to the back of his mind and concentrate on the game ahead of him. Stan is waiting, anyway. So he’ll focus on his wrists for now and worry about everything else later. The one thing he does do, however, is pull out his phone and send Isobel a very pointed text.

You should have gotten my permission first.

Isobel’s text response is nothing but the angel halo emoji. Michael wishes his telekinesis was strong enough to travel across state lines because he’d like to throw her phone into the wall. Since that option is not available to him, he sends Max a text instead.

Your sister is a menace.

He pockets his phone, not bothering to wait on an answer. Max tends to be too busy these days. Not that that’s anything new really. Unless your name is Liz Ortecho or Isobel Evans, he doesn’t have much time for you.

The morning stretches by as gametime approaches. Batting practice goes well and Michael works with Stan on keeping his wrists from turning too much when he swings. His teammates have all found out about the concert by the time the first pitch is thrown and none of them will let him forget it. Each time his walk-up music begins to play, Danny leads a small group of particularly bad vocalists in a sing-a-long. All of them belting out the lyrics at the top of their lungs. Michael tries to keep the stupid grin off his face and almost suceeds.

He won’t admit it, but he actually begins to get excited. Doesn’t even mind when Max only ends up responding with a snarky text.

Try living less than five miles from her.

He’d give anything to live five miles from Isobel. Michael loves his teammates. He really does. Atlanta has one of the best team dynamics in baseball. Maybe the best. They support each other, love one another, and when they say family, they mean it. Team dinners and family outings are normal even during the off season. Michael doesn’t avoid spending time with them because he dislikes anyone - although there have been various tiffs in the past but nothing long lasting. He avoids them because he loves them enough to let his mouth loosen too much, all his secrets threatening to tumble out with no regard for his safety or the safety of his siblings.

He knows this because it has happened on more than one occasion. Years ago during his rookie years when living hard and drinker harder were his nightly norm. On any given night you’d find him at the bar, four fingers deep into a bottle of bourbon, mouthing off about moving things with his mind. It wasn’t the booze talking; it was his loneliness. The throbbing homesick ache in his chest that only Max and Isobel could smooth away. Once he knew his teammates were shitfaced, he’d let some little comment slip about his abilities. Half of them never paid any attention to the things he said and the other half merely laughed at him.

He’d told Isobel one night about the things he said and she’d yelled at him solidly for an hour. The next day he’d gotten a nasty phone call from Max and has kept his mouth shut ever since that conversation.

Keeping their secret is important. Michael understands that, but the lying exhausts him. He loves Danny and hates that the most important part of himself Danny and Lena can never know. He loves his other teammates, and he doesn’t want to hide this huge part of himself from them forever. The lying has always made him feel unclean - distant and deceptive. Back in Roswell, it had been easier. He hadn’t had many friends and the people closest to him shared the same secret. But now, the people he sees every single day aren’t allowed to know the real him. It breaks his heart in a way he could never have anticipated, making him feel truly alien.

Michael and Isobel had jumped through enormous hoops to keep his DNA secret from team doctors and drug testers. It’s the only reason he’d ever agreed to her mind influence.

A major league baseball player cannot have telekinetic superpowers, alien or not. The cheating accusations would be immediate and relentless - his career over and his name shamed forever. Regardless of the fact that he would never dream of cheating to advance his career. Besides, he’s self-aware enough - or perhaps cocky enough - to understand that his level of talent doesn’t require any telekinetic assistance. Michael Guerin is just that fucking good.

During his last at bat in the eighth inning, Alex Manes’ face flashes on the digital scoreboard high above centerfield advertising the aftergame concert. Michael concentrates on keeping his wrists tight and imagines that Alex is somewhere in the stadium watching him. He swings at the first pitch - a fastball left too high over the plate - and knows he’s gotten every piece of it by the cracking sound his bat makes. He starts a slow run to first base and watches the ball sail over the leftfield wall. With his signature two claps, he rounds first and enjoys the cheering crowd chanting his name. Stepping on the bag at home plate, his eyes glance back up at the scoreboard, but Alex’s face has disappeared. And suddenly his nerves have returned tenfold at the realization that soon he’ll be face to face with a man he has no idea how to talk to - what to say or even if he’ll get a chance to say anything at all.

Despite the cheers and happy butt slaps from his teammates, the pit in Michael’s stomach stretches wide. In the clubhouse, he checks his phone again and one last final message from Isobel lights up his screen.

He wants to meet you first.

[thescorpioracer]

Sen Çal Kapımı 1 - Episode Recap

To be honest, this series of posts is mostly going to be a fashion roast. But DISCLAIMER! I really do love this show and Turkish TV in general, it’s just my preferred mode of media analysis is to pick things apart. 😂And I need everyone to know that I am very pro-women, and believe people should be able to dress how they want and not be judged for it or be looked down upon for it. But oh my god this wardrobe department/costumer needs to be STOPPED. I also have zero credentials to be talking about fashion, but will that stop me?

I’m going to make these posts assuming you’ve watched the show, and just comment on whatever comes up. There will be spoilers. Let’s go!

We start off with a voiceover from Eda Yıldız, an A+ romcom trope. (It wasn’t until my rewatch that I remembered that Eda used to do VOs at random intervals, and I’m kind of glad she stopped tbh.) She is a strong woman who wants to get her education and become a landscape architect/designer. She was all set to do that until- dun dun dun! - Serkan Bolat destroyed everything. 

Check out that dart board of a man (and this is the only time we see that photo there). And these outfits are probably the most normal and reasonable clothes she wears in the show. She’s a beautiful young woman, who was a college student, and now works outdoors as a florist. 10/10 outfit. 

Of course that transitions us into an epic slomo of Serkan exiting his private jet. He of course begins to berate his assistant on the phone in a way a friend described as reminiscent of The Devil Wears Prada.

@teamnick​​‘s commentary back when she first started the show. 

Serkan returns to his office for the first time in 2 months after working on business deals in London. Chaos ensues: Miranda Priestly is baaaaaaack.

See... here we have some good fashion choices! We meet the girls for the first time, while they try to sneak off to their graduation without making Eda feel bad that she won’t be receiving her diploma. Melek “Melo” is dressed in a sweet dress with a bold, romantic color, which captures her personality perfectly. Ceren, the rich daughter from a family of lawyers, looks a bit more high-fashion. The dress is short but it has long sleeves and no cleavage so it works out to be chic and elegant. Fifi is unapologetically herself with her full-black, punk wardrobe. Eda is again dressed in a pretty, but casual outfit. Nicely put together for her lower-middle-class lifestyle and her job as a florist.

Enter: the plot device to get our protagonists together. Serkan’s face says it all.

We are then introduced to the main couple’s respective cars. Serkan has his 2020 BMW (though the show blocks out the copyrighted branding) while Eda’s beat up SUV is clearly unreliable. What’s that? Another plot device being introduced? I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Also, I just noticed this, but for someone as uptight as Serkan, I’m surprised at how fun his suit jacket lining is. If I’m not mistaken the pattern is of a bunch of rainbow fish. #Snazzy, but they seem out of character?

Plot highlights:

Eda learns she can come back to school and finish her final year, but she’s lost her scholarship and will have to pay. She can’t.

Serkan gives his talk at the graduation (?)-- Is his talk just for architecture students? If so, why are Ceren, Fifi, and Melo there? We’ll never know. I know, I know... it’s all for the ~plot~

Eda calls Serkan out in front of everyone for taking away the scholarship that she earned from his company, Art Life. He is confused but unrepentant. She refuses to tell him her name.

She tries to deface his car with lipstick after keying the side (we never hear about the damage to his car after that). He catches her and wants to call the police, so she impulsively handcuffs them together with the plot devices from Selin’s wedding invitation sitting on his passenger seat.

They then have to go to Serkan’s urgent business meeting with an out-of-town client. Eda drives while they’re handcuffed together. Bickering ensues.

What is this? Foreshadowing? Symbolism?? Eda’s last name “Yıldız” is the Turkish word for “star” so... file that away for later.

One of my favorite parts about watching Turkish dramas is the experience of trying to decipher the fan translations. Add to the fact that Turkish only has 1 pronoun *chef’s kiss* 

Eda refuses to take the elevator to the 15th floor (we’ll learn about her claustrophobia later). Serkan is equally as stubborn, saying she owes  him for screwing up his day. But he has met his match in Eda with regards to stubbornness. They take the stairs.

More highlights:

First instance of fake dating - they need to hide the handcuffs from his client so Eda pretends she’s his girlfriend and a fellow investor.

The girls track Eda’s phone to the hotel and try to find her by asking around the premises. 

Eda charms the client into selling his land to Serkan.

We learn that Serkan is allergic to strawberries and has a lot of health anxiety. He’s a very tightly wound person.

Serkan says “Mashallah,” translator hears 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Engin brings way too many people to open the handcuffs and chaos ensues.

I feel like nothing can do justice to the comedy of 58:45 to 1:00:00 with Fifi using a bobby pin as a lock pick. The dramatic editing is 👌🏼

Leyla gets fired for somehow causing this drama??? And she is so happy to leave that stressful workplace omg, we don’t deserve her 🥺

Serkan and Eda go their separate ways, Eda prepared to never see her enemy again, but of course her phone and purse are still in his car so she has to go to his office at Art Life and confront him again.

Serkan has found out that Whoops, Art Life did cancel the study abroad scholarships to cut costs, but his CFO did it without telling him. And Serkan is pissed, but I think mainly about the fact that Eda did have some (SOME) grounds for yelling at him in public.

Leyla then explains the nonsensical reasoning behind her being fired-but-not-fired and still working. (Spoiler alert: she never goes anywhere and she is my favorite side character to this day).

Eda: “How can I piss Serkan off?” Leyla: “Find a mistake he’s made and he will fixate on it forever. But you won’t find anything.” Eda: “Hold my beer.”

Eda walks into Serkan’s office and his meeting. She gets her purse back and they fight about him not being willing to apologize for ruining her life and education. He refuses and says she owes him an apology for embarrassing him in public (no, dude).

He wants to give her back the scholarship and make it all go away but she rightly tells him that it won’t fix her broken pride from begging the company and her university for a second chance. But somehow her calling him a heartless “Robot” is what gets to him???? And he short-circuits. Eda walks out triumphant. 

~dRaMa!~

MEANWHILE

Melo, as well as being a perfume sales girl, also works as a flight attendant and wants Eda to cover her shift (we’ll get into how that doesn’t make sense in a minute) 

Eda says no, she’s going to meet her boyfriend, Cenk, who she hasn’t seen in months and has just returned from Italy.

Enter: Selin. Serkan’s ex who he dumped a while ago and is now engaged to the heir of a hotel empire. Serkan doesn’t like this. The two of them grew up together and are set to each inherit 50% of the holding company that Serkan’s father currently runs.

Right away Selin serves us with a gender reveal level color scheme.  Personally not a fan. They confirm that Serkan is coming to her engagement party tomorrow.

Meanwhile Eda  meets up with Cenk. Her outfit is still reasonable and cute for her character. He looks mildly like a hobo and doesn’t seem to have anything going for him (I know he’s a throwaway character but the two of them really don’t have anything in common).

This creeper keeps staring at them, but Cenk tries to explain it away and says he’s busy and can’t meet her again until the day after tomorrow. Eda is disappointed but accepts this. Creeper girl remains and remains a red flag to viewers, but apparently not to Eda.

Cut to later that evening, and of course our broody main man enjoys astronomy in his free time (???) idk what he’s charting and to what purpose but okay? 

Eda finds a mini first aid kit in her purse that Serkan put there before returning it. Queue montage of them treating their respective wrists for handcuff-related injuries. #couplegoals

Of course we also needed a sepia-toned flashback to earlier that day when the handcuffs contrived their faces to get too close together. #romance

Finallyyyyyyy it’s morning again and a new day.

Since Eda can’t see Cenk (good, he’s so boring), she agrees to fill in as a flight attendant for Melo, who’s side job is for a private plane company.

Now. This should not be a thing. Eda was in college to be a landscape architect and now works as a florist for her aunt... Where has she learned any relevant skills to work as a flight attendant?? Presumably nowhere. And I really don’t think a private plane company would be so easygoing about just having a random person fill in to cover for her friend? 

But does this show care about that? What do you think...

Also, instead of the standard white shirt, black skirt uniform requirements, the girls decide that this skimpy dress and heels is fine? Hmmm

Also lol @ Melo for assuming that the client who wants jasmine tea and fruit salad is probably a woman. And her telling Eda that the PRIVATE JET COMPANY would in fact have its own tea was very random and unnecessary. 

Back at the Bolat house compound, we meet the parents: Aydan and Alptekin. We’ll see them again later. Selin’s engagement party is today. 

Meanwhile Eda is just.... being a flight attendant, I guess??? And who could possibly be the passenger she has to take care of? Take a wild guess. Of course it’s Serkan Bolat.

And of course that tiny dress (THAT ALSO HAS A LEG SLIT?? WHY?? I really don’t need to see her vagina) looks very practical and professional... not! (Hande Erçel is a gorgeous human, and the dress looks good on her, don’t get me wrong. BUT THIS IS SITUATIONALLY INCORRECT ATTIRE). Also him just folding his vest and then social distancing from it... K? 😂

Eda panics and doesn’t want Serkan to see her and runs away back to her seat pod thing - Serkan takes issue with his fruit salad for ~plot reasons~ (EDIT: I’ve been informed that it’s because there was a strawberry in his fruit salad and since he’s allergic, of course it needed to be fixed. Why doesn’t the plane have a note of that??) and comes back to find this mystery flight attendant.

Eda is very stressed out about this encounter and is also starting to have a panic attack because, surprise, she’s also claustrophobic. 

After Serkan calms her down, they have a cute/civil conversation for the rest of the flight.

When they land, Eda realizes they’re on an island 2h45min away from Istanbul and she isn’t sure what to do with herself (How did she not already know where they were going, as the FLIGHT ATTENDANT??? So may red flags with this private jet company).

Serkan convinces Eda to come with him and she can hang out at the beach while he’s at Selin’s engagement party.

At the engagement party we finally meet Selin’s fiancé Ferit. He’s sweet and non-threatening and clearly insecure about Serkan being Selin’s ex.

This dress/skirt outfit Selin is wearing isn’t terrible, but it doesn’t scream rich socialite to me. Anything with feathers seems... a bit tacky/too showy? Like someone pretending to be rich? Idk, this outfit isn’t one I’m going to really take a stand on.

Does this engagement party warrant being a 2h45 min flight away? No. They try to explain it away as the couple wanting to have something small and private, even though they also invite the press?? But okay whatever, as long as Serkan and Eda cross paths again, I suppose.

Kaan Karadağ has been mentioned a couple times in passing, but now we finally meet our “villain.” Ferit’s friend, and Serkan & Selin’s childhood acquaintance, who has it out for Serkan bc he somehow bankrupted Kaan’s dad? Idk and I don’t really care but tl;dr they’re enemies. 

Another thing I love about Turkish dramas is the censoring. Like, they’ll allow alcohol to be on screen, but they won’t say the word and they’ll just blur out the bottle and any liquid that we’d assume is alcoholic 😂

In the evening, Serkan is tired and wants to leave and Ferit snidely jokes about how Serkan is too picky to have a fiancé of his own. Serkan flashes back to 1 entire day ago when he and Eda pretended to be dating at his business meeting, and says that actually he is engaged to someone and then peaces out.

Serkan finds Eda on the beach, and they are preparing to leave when a crowd of people (Selin, Ferit, and Kaan mainly), arrive to get a peek at Serkan’s new “fiancé.” Eda very reluctantly plays along (good thing she has that unnecessarily sexy “work” dress to help her look the part) and Serkan notices that for the first time ever, Selin is jealous of another woman. #drama

After they finally escape the crowd, Serkan makes an annoyed Eda an offer: Pretend to be his fiancé for the 2 months leading up to Selin’s wedding so he can get them to break up and prevent Ferit marrying into the company. In return, he will pay all the fees to help her complete her last year of studies in Italy.

Eda refuses, stating that she doesn’t want anything from him, and besides she has a boyfriend (Sure Jan; Cenk is such a joke). They have it out and then fly back to Istanbul. But of course the gossips at the engagement have spread the news of Serkan’s new woman so the paparazzi corner them at the airport when they land. 

So glad that we got to see this random mechanic find out the news (???)

They escape the cameras and Serkan takes her home, saying that Art Life has a press conference tomorrow, and she should come so he can save face and tell everyone that she was his assistant accompanying him for work to the party. Eda agrees. 

It should also be mentioned that Serkan still doesn’t know her name at this point?? She refused to tell him and Engin still hasn’t sent him the names of the scholarship candidates so it’s a bit miraculous that their relationship was at all believable.

The next day, Cenk wants to meet but Eda has to go to the press conference. The girls come too for whatever reason, and Melo is convinced that Cenk wants to propose. Eda just lets that fantasy take hold (why tho?), and Cenk shows up unexpectedly right before the press conference and takes Eda into the nearby hotel’s cafe so they can talk.

Eda seems ready for a proposal (they haven’t seen each other or really communicated in months??) but Cenk wants to break up. Eda is shocked (???) but then Cenk mentions that he has a new girlfriend from Italy that he adores, and oh by the way, it’s the creepy girl from the other night who also happens to be here right now?

Okay fine, I guess??? Cenk: “She’s doesn’t speak Turkish” Girlfriend: *clearly a Turkish actress*

Eda is upset that he brought his jealous girlfriend with him to break up with her and says something about how actually, she’s seeing Serkan Bolat now (maybe it’s just me being someone who doesn’t follow tabloids, but are business people really that popular in every day society where everyone knows who they are?). Cenk laughs at Eda, saying that everyone wants to be with Serkan Bolat, and that she’s bluffing.

Eda makes an impulsive decision, and walks away, over to where Serkan has started the press conference. And seals their fate as fake dating in the public eye.

Queue confetti. No really.

And there we have it. That’s the episode!

In all seriousness, it’s a pretty great pilot, especially for a romcom. It hits all the right beats, includes enough tropes, and tells us a lot about what we should expect in the episodes going forward. And no matter how much I make fun of it, I really do enjoy this show! It’s been such a nice distraction from Current Events. I’ve spent a lot of time watching these episodes just saying “oh my god” out loud to myself as I watch all of the cute/romantic gestures that give me a lot of second hand embarrassment (I forget that PDA makes me kinda uncomfortable 😂).

There wasn’t actually that much terrible fashion in this episode, which I didn’t notice until my rewatch. If I continue with this series of posts, I’m hoping they’ll end up being less plot-centric, and more about the situationally inappropriate outfits and strange subtitling choices. 

See you next time? 

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

7 Days to Die - Part 6

Home

Pairing: Jensen x Reader, Danneel x Reader (Jenneel)

Warnings: Scary situation, implied smut, implied threesome, poly-relationships, maybe fluff (it’s a feel good one I think)

Word Count: 2,086

Summary: It’s a race against the clock when Danneel doesn’t get better. The reader and Jensen trek far to get the meds she needs. And discover some feelings along the way.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Main Masterlist

7 Days to Die Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

~

“How’s Danneel?” Jensen asked.

“Look boss, there’s no easy way to tell you this.” Benny says.

Misha enters to conversation, having finished with Y/N. “Dee’s fever keeps getting worse, though we keep lowering it as best we could, but it just keeps going up.” He explains.

“It’s odd, if the kids and her had the same shit, and the kids bounced back just fine. They’re with Gen by the way.” He explains, quickly adding. “But she just gets worse. And keeps getting worse no matter how hard we fight against it. And I’m running out of supplies.” He says.

“We got to find out quick, I’m not losing her either.” Jensen urges.

 When Y/N woke up, Danneel was still fighting a fever.

She walked out of the infirmary feeling achy but better. She heads to the camp entrance to find Benny and Jensen standing watch.

“How long was I out?” she asks, startling them.

“Chic’s a silent walker.” Benny says, placing a hand over his own chest.

“Yeah she is.” Jensen says, walking over to her. Engulfing her in a hug.

“Thank god you’re okay.” He whispers.

“You were worried about me?” she asked.

“Of course, I am, you’re my friend. You had my back, saved me countless times.” He says.

Countless times? She wondered.

“How’s your wife?” she asked.

“She’s still fighting a fever. Her immune system is overrun by a virus. And they’re trying to find the right meds to fight it.” He says.

“Let me look at my map for check points, I have all kinds of markers on my map.” She says.

“Now, why do you have a special map and we don’t?” Benny asked.

“Because it’s where I’ve been. I’ve walked all the way up here from the states.” She says. “Been across my share of military base camps, medic camps, you name it, I’ve seen it.” she adds. As she digs in her pack to pull out a stack of maps. Labeling them as such, military, medical, food and shelters.

And she took Jensen’s map, being a map of the Vancouver area, mostly just the British Columbia territory.

She does the math, considering her maps are in states, and towns from where she’s visited. She needs to map out how far the trek would be.

 She was doing the math in a cabin used for security. She comes out, looking not too happy, yet not too sure either.

“How bad?” Jensen asks.

“Well, do you want good news first or bad news?” she asked.

“Do they go hand in hand?” he asks. She nods. “Good news then.” Jensen says.

“Okay, I found a camp that is labeled to have meds, and supplies for CDC officials. They have camps all over the US.” She says.

“Bad news is, it’s far.” Jensen says. She nods, closing her eyes with a sigh.

“Yes, it’s about a week’s walk or more. But if I have a horse, or a car, I could get there faster.” She says.

“You’re not going alone.” Jensen says.

Considering walkers, raiders and cannibals, she needs someone to watch her back.

“Fine, but do we have that mode of transportation or not?” she asked.

“We kept the Impala, but there’s too high of a risk of it either attracting the wrong attention or attention period. Or it breaking down. It’s been acting up.” Benny says.

“I bet; you guys must have put some miles on it.” Y/N says.

“That we did.” Jensen says.

“There’s a Jeep in back, it’s new. One of the kids hijacked it and brought it here. You could use that.” Benny says.

“Okay, we need to pack and leave. Now. My wife can’t wait any longer.” Jensen urges.

“Already packed, let’s hit it.” Y/N says.

 With the occasional off roading, she sped the whole way to the camp on the map.

The camp was, just outside of Seattle Washington. She made it within a day.

The camp came into view as they screeched to a halt.

“Grab all that you can, we’ll haul it in the Jeep.” Jensen says. Y/N nods.

They ran in the abandoned camp, going from tent to tent, building to building, grabbing jars of medicine, bandages, antiseptics, surgical supplies, even gowns and gloves. They made multiple trips, carrying arms full of loot.

They heard a hiss of a walker nearby.

Once they thing they got everything, the got in the Jeep and drove back to Vancouver.

 The engine showing signs of overheating caused them to stop. They were still miles from the camp, but they weren’t about to carry all the medical supplies they looted.

Jensen parks the Jeep on the side of the road, turning off the lights so as to not draw attention to them. And prepares to keep watch as Y/N works at getting comfortable.

She kept tossing, not finding that sweet spot she could tolerate sleeping in.

“Sorry, this isn’t comfortable of place to stay.” Jensen says.

“It’s okay, it’ll still do. I’ll just wait a bit. Try to relax before I try to sleep.” She says.

“I just hope that this is enough to help her fight.” Jensen says.

“It is, I was grabbing some very wordy, and lengthy names of medicines, for some reason that told me it’ll help her. Just got to have faith Jensen. She’ll make it.” She says. “Besides…We pretty much cleared the camp and emptied it of everything.” She added. Jensen nods.

Lifting the center console to reveal a middle seat, he sits closer. She didn’t question it, she embraced him. She can feel him tremble at the thought of losing his wife. He just needed the assurance that she’ll be okay.

Jensen buried his face in the crook of her neck as they hugged, taking in her comfort.

When he pulls away slowly, his hand still by the nape of her neck, she sees him look at her lips. Then leans in slowly, hesitantly. And lightly brushes his lips along hers in a gentle kiss.

It took her a minute to register before she kissed him back.

They’re lips moved together in the kiss, as they poured out their love into it.

They were letting in breaths in through their noses as they continued, and deepening the kiss.

Jensen’s tongue brushing along her lip, asking for permission. She parts her lips, allowing him access.

He works her down onto her back, laying in the front seat of the Jeep. As their moment begins to build into something more.

 The sun was about to rise when they decided it was time to hit the road.

Despite the pleasurable night, neither one got any shut eye. But felt rested and content. As they drove, Y/N sitting in the middle seat leaning into Jensen’s side as he drove.

Entering the complex with the supplies, they rushed to get Danneel the meds she desperately needs, and it quickly became a waiting game after the first few doses.

She just had sex with Jensen Ackles, how will Danneel react if she wakes up? Or was that just a heated moment? Her mind reeled at the thoughts and scenarios. But all she can do, is wait.

 As the days passed, Danneel slowly improved.

And when she finally got the okay to go home she was eager to see Jensen again.

She saw him at his post, like always.

“Jensen?” she goes.

“Baby?” Jensen says, looking extremely happy she’s alive, healthy and awake.

He rushes to her and engulfs her in a big, tight hug.

“Jay, babe, I need to breathe.” Danneel says, after a while in his arms.

“Sorry, it’s just, I’ve come so close to losing you.” He says. “If it weren’t for Y/N, who drove me to keep looking for meds, you wouldn’t be awake right now.” He adds.

“Well then let me thank her too. She not only helped save me, but she kept my man sane.” She says.

“Think Misha has her out on a hunt, she should be back soon.” Jensen says. “She took Jared’s place.” He adds.

“Oh, where is he?” Danneel asked.

“On our trip back, he was scratched by a walker. He…died.” Jensen says, feeling remorseful looking back on that day.

“How’d Gen take it?” She asked.

“Not well, but she’s doing better. Y/N and I have been keeping an eye on her. Y/N’s been looking after the kids when she can.” Jensen says.

“This Y/N, she sounds quiet the character.” Danneel says.

“We’re back!” They heard from the trail. “And we got the good stuff in the way of food and clothes.” Y/N says leading her pack back.

“I’ll take the food over at Mass Hall.” Rob says, carrying a few of the boxes as he lead a few guys carrying food to said Mass Hall.

“And Benny and Jensen, weapons.” Y/N says, pointing to the Jeep, loaded to the brim with ammo crates, boxes of all kinds of weapon goodness.

“We’d be lost without her and her map.” Benny says as he checks in the weapons.

“And medical?” Jensen asked.

“Of course medical, I already brought it to the medical supply camp back there.” She says.

“Hi Danneel.” Y/N says, noticing she’s up and at them. “Nice to see you awake. Jensen wouldn’t stop worrying, I kept telling him you were fine.” She says.

“I’m glad you’ve been keeping him sane for the time being.” She says.

“Any word from Gen?” Y/N asks Jensen.

“She’s fine today, maybe watch our kids for Danneel. I don’t get off till late.” Jensen says.

“Will do.” Y/N says.

“I’ll walk you to the cabin.” Danneel says. Leading the way.

 That night, Y/N and Danneel just talked and talked as they watched the kids play and be kids from the front porch of their cabin, sitting on an outdoor couch. Danneel learned of what they did on their ventures. And how close Jensen came to dying due to the gun shot injury.

Even their moment on the drive back.

“I didn’t want to say anything, but, I’m not all for keeping secrets. It’s worse if you’ve kept it and they are just now discovering it in the most wrong way possible or worse if it’s years in the future.” Y/N explained.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad.” Danneel says.

“Y-…You’re not?” Y/N asked, confused. “Most women when they find out their man did that, they’d be pissed.” She adds.

“For some reason I’m not.” She says. “And the more I hang out with you the more comfortable I am with you, it’s like…It’s like I’m falling for a girl, which hardly ever happens. Last girl I had a crush on tried to use me.” She adds.

“Oh, well I’m not all about that. And I’m flattered you like me. I like you too actually.” Y/N says.

Danneel smiles, and rests her head on Y/N’s shoulder.

“If we continued this, would it be weird if…a married couple, such as ourselves, ever loved someone else. Like, make it a poly-relationship?” Danneel asked.

“Maybe to some. But I’m not weirded out by it, oddly enough. I guess as long as it’s something all three of us would want.” Y/N says. “And if all three of us, really loved each other.” She adds.

“My guts saying to do it.” Danneel says.

“Then lets. I mean, I feel like Jensen, like, I know his feelings toward me. I mean a few nights ago, that told me a lot. And if you want to try it, and I want to try it. Then I say let’s do it.” Y/N explains.

Danneel looks up at Y/N from where she sat, resting her head on her shoulder. Y/N returns the soft and content look. And Danneel takes that chance and delivers a gentle kiss.

Y/N quickly returns the kiss and the girls sat there, kissing sweetly until they hear a groan near them.

Jensen had quietly walked up the stairs to their porch, off duty, expressing how turned on he was with the dark expression in his eyes.

“That was so hot.” Jensen moans. As he takes two easy strides to his girls, kissing both sweetly on the lips.

“Something tells me, daddy’s wanting some.” Danneel says, with a devilish grin.

“And daddy want’s doubles.” Jensen says, turning to Y/N.

“Let’s get the kids in, it’s getting late.” Y/N says with a smile as Jensen kisses her neck. Giggling when his lips gently suck on her pulse point. Only to turn into a moan when he doesn’t stop sucking and biting the patch of skin.

“And inside we go.” Danneel goes, break them up and guiding them inside.

~

Jensen Tags:

@luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @mlovesstories​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @moonlight-on-her-skin​, @backseat-of-deans-67chevy​, @salt-n-burn-em-all

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 10/28/2020

[imagine-loki]

The Good Guys Dressed In Black

TITLE: The Good Guys Dressed In Black CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: ½ AUTHOR: @timeladylaufeson ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki meeting and falling in love with an MiB agent. RATING: Everyone, I guess? There’s some language but nothing bad I’d say NOTES/WARNINGS: Took the title from the song Men In Black by Will Smith :) I wouldn’t say you need to know the MiB films too well to understand, but I guess you should have some basic knowledge. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

A woman in a smart black suit stood in line at a Starbucks not far away from the large concrete cube on Battery Drive. When her turn came, she was greeted by one of her favourite baristas, and they chatted for a moment as she handed him her thermos.

“It’s on us today,” the barista said and smiled, sending the cup towards the espresso bar.

“Aw, thanks Pete,” she smiled and moved over to the handoff. She rested against one of the tables beside it and waited, looking around the café mindlessly.

“Venti iced soy vanilla latté with an extra shot for… Teetee?” the barista at the handoff called, a confused frown on his face. She smirked and walked over to him, grabbing the cup.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” she asked and the barista nodded. “Nice to meet you! I’m Double Tee, I’m here all the time.”

“I’m Luke,” he said. “You work in the cube, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“Can you tell me-”

“Top secret organisation that deals with extraterrestrial threats.”

“For real?”

“Of course,” she grinned. “Now, if you would please look over here,” she pulled what appeared to be a pen from her pocket and put a pair of sunglasses on her eyes. She pressed a small button on the side of the device and it flashed brightly, the young man’s face turning completely blank. “Do yourself a favour and don’t ask questions that you don’t need an answer to. For your concern, I work for the government. Also, this is not soy. Please be more careful, someone could be allergic and you could get in trouble. I’m not, so I’ll just drink it, but I’ll be bitter the whole day because almond milk sucks. Have a good day, Luke.”

She turned around to leave, but as she was walking through the door, she bumped into someone that was coming in.

“Oh shit, fuck, I’m so sorry,” she blurted out as she watched the coffee spill on their shirt. “I really need to start closing the cup before I start walking, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright, nothing happened,” a smooth voice replied to her. She looked up and saw a face that she knew all too well from the screens all over the Headquarters.

“No, I… I just messed up your shirt, I’m really sorry,” she kept apologising. “I’ll buy you a coffee.”

“It really is alright,” he tried to assure her.

“Please, I insist,” she said, desperately trying to ignore those crystal blue eyes and the amused little smile. She practically dragged him to the cash desk and told him him to pick whatever he liked.

“It’s really not necessary,” he said.

“Yes it is,” she told him. “Pete, get this nice gentleman whatever he wishes, I’m paying,” she handed him a twenty dollar bill. “Keep the rest. I have to go to work now. Have a good day! And I’m sorry for spilling coffee on you.”

She crossed the street and walked in to the HQ, greeting Frank the talking pug and the Guard, who was just reading his newspaper as usual.

“You have coffee on your shirt,” Frank said in his disturbingly deep voice.

“I know, I was stupid and didn’t look where I was going.”

“As per usual,” the Guard grumbled.

“Funny as per usual,” she sneered back at him as she stepped into the lift. As it arrived in the office, she couldn’t help but smile. Her job was a fantastical adventure and she loved it. There was a line of aliens waiting for their documents to be verified over at the front desk. Another group of aliens walk/crawled/flew past her. There was Kay, showing some rookies around. Someone was putting up a fight.

“Double Tee! Are you running around neuralysing random people again?”

Yeah. That was the life. 

The following morning, as Double Tee entered the Starbucks and joined the queue, someone tapped her shoulder.

“Excuse me, aren’t you the lady that so kindly bought my drink yesterday?” the now familiar voice asked.

Double Tee chuckled. “Don’t you mean the dumbass that spilled coffee on you yesterday?”

“Well but you did buy me a drink afterwards, didn’t you?” he asked, a cheeky smile on his face.

“That I did,” she nodded.

“Let me return the favour,” he offered. “I’ll buy your coffee today.”

“Absolutely not! Yesterday was for… well, yesterday,” she shook her head. “I ruined your shirt, that’s why I bought your coffee. We’re even now.”

“What if I just really want to buy a coffee?” he suggested. “I… I heard that’s what men do when they find a woman attractive. I’m Loki.”

That was how it started. Every day, one of them bought the other their coffee. The next day, they switched. Double Tee knew she shouldn’t engage with a civilian, even less so with an alien, but God, was this one incredible in every way imaginable. They talked for hours on end, about virtually nothing. He respected her avoiding questions about her job and very politely pretended to be deaf when something slipped her lips. He caught on the fact that it had something to do with stars and excitedly talked about them, ocassionally mentioning that he missed them and that he couldn’t really see them in the city. She felt herself falling for him while the reasonable part of her brain screamed bloody murder about it being the worst idea in history. He was, after all, still listed as a potential threat, despite having joined the Avengers now.

One evening, it was fairly late, they sat together at the Starbucks with their coffees, Loki looking out the window wistfully.

“What’s wrong, El?” Double Tee asked. “You’re looking even sadder than normal.”

“Ha ha ha,” he glared at her. “I don’t want to be moaning about this stuff.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” she said.

Loki let out a sigh. “I told you about my mother, didn’t I?”

“You did, yes,” she nodded. “She died, didn’t she?”

“Yes,” he said. “And… I can’t see her star.”

“What?”

“On Asgard, when someone dies, their soul goes up to the sky and becomes a star. But… I can’t see hers from here. I can barely see any, to be honest.”

Double Tee thought for a brief moment. “Do you trust me?” she asked.

“Of course I do, why?” he frowned.

“Come with me,” she said, downed the rest of her coffee and stood up. “Come on.”

Confused, he stood as well and followed her outside, across the road, into the Headquarters. She greeted the Guardian and Frank as usual, mumbling something vague about a witness. Loki’s curious face made them believe her lie, so they said nothing. In the lift, Double Tee pressed a button that said garage and down they went. She led Loki all the way to the back where a small, unsuspecting motorcycle was parked.

“Do you really trust me?” she asked again as she opened what appeared to be a closet.

“I really do, but what-”

“No time for questions,” she interrupted him. “Put this on,” she threw a leather jacket at him and got herself the same one. “And this,” she handed him a helmet. “We’re going on a tiny little trip,” she told him as she sat on the motorcycle. Loki took a breath to ask her something, but decided against, and sat right behind her.

“I need you to hold on tight,” she said.

“On to what?” he asked.

“Me, dumbass,” she chuckled. 

“That doesn’t sound very safe,” he pointed out. 

“It’s completely safe, don’t worry,” she dismissed him. “It’s an MIB certified vehicle, it’s safer than like… all normal cars.”

“MI what?”

Instead of replying, Double Tee started the motorcycle and Loki could only clutch on to her quickly as they left the garage. They soared through the ever so busy streets of New York, zigzagging through the traffic like it was nothing. Double Tee was way too aware of Loki’s arms around her waist, but did her best to ignore them.

As they left the city and got off the main road, Double Tee slowed down for a moment.

“Do you seriously trust me?” she asked once more having to shout al ittle to make sure he heard her.

“The fact that this is the third time you asked me in the span of thirty minutes makes me seriously question it,” he said. “But I still do.”

“Then hold on a little tighter and feel free to scream,” she said and pushed a tiny button on the side of the right handlebar. 

“What-”

Too late. The motorcycle went about twenty times faster now, the roaring of the engine deafening them. In a few moments, they could both feel the wheels leaving the ground and the motorcycle went flying through the night. When it got high enough, the engine quietened again and switched itself into flight mode.

“You can let go of me now,” Double Tee said.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Loki shook his head, but loosened his grip on her a little. “What in the nine realms-”

“You can’t tell anyone about this, alright?” she said. “Never. Ever. This is a secret, okay?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded. “But what-”

“Men in Black. That’s who I work for,” she interrupted him again. “A top secret agency. We deal with aliens and stuff. This is… our tech. Well, not exactly, it’s alien mostly. But it has some Stark Industries parts.”

“Stark knows about all this?”

“God, no.”

“And why exactly are you telling me this now?”

“I wanted to show you the stars. Push the little button on the right on the helmet, you’ll see better.”

With a shaky hand, Loki found the button and pressed it, his helmet opening and jaw dropping. The chilly wind made prickly tears flood his eyes and blur his vision, making the beauty above him barely recognisable. He blinked a few times and everything came to focus, but new tears replaced them, this time emotional ones. The last time he saw this much beauty was back on Asgard, where he used to sit on his window and just stare at the night sky for hours. He tried to find his mother’s star, but couldn’t see it in the speed.

“Don’t worry, we’re gonna land soon,” she said as if reading his thoughts. “Just a few more minutes.”

In that moment, a tiny red light started blinking on the inside of her helmet. An incoming call. Her brain went into panic mode and in the frenzy, she sent it to voice mail, hoping that whoever was calling would think she was busy escaping from something.

They landed on top of a small hill, in the middle of a thin forest. Double Tee switched the motorcycle off and took off her helmet. She turned to Loki, noticing the tears that stained his cheeks.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, did I- did I do something wrong?” she asked.

“No,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s perfect,” he added, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Don’t mention it,” she whispered as she nuzzled into his neck. “But you know, you’re missing out on the stars right now. Wanna climb a tree?”

In just a few moments, they sat atop a giant oak, watching the stars.

“What’s your real name?” Loki asked.

“Double Tee,” she said. “It’s my official name now. I don’t really exist anymore.”

“So… what was your name?” he wondered.

“Theresa-Taylor Barnes,” she said.

“Barnes?” he frowned. 

“Distant relative,” she nodded, knowing exactly what he was about to ask. “Poor uncle James. How is he?”

“He’s… he’s fine, I think,” Loki said. “I think we’re good friends, but I’m not really sure.”

“I’d tell you to say hi to him, but… he doesn’t know me. He’s not supposed to know me. No one is.”

“Then why-”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I should have never started talking to you, but I just… couldn’t help it.”

“It must be quite lonely,” he pointed out.

“In a way,” she agreed mindlessly. “I… I suppose I have the other agents, but familiarity isn’t really a big thing there. We’re just colleagues mostly. We don’t… we’re not like you guys.”

“Us?”

“The Avengers. Aren’t you this really cool team that’s real good friends? Doesn’t Stark always organise these parties where you all drink and dance and shit?” 

“I suppose.”

“Must be cool.”

He took a pause. “I could… introduce you.”

“No,” she shook her head. “Not a good idea. I’m not supposed to be friends with anyone, ever. If someone finds out about you, I’m toast.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t think I want to know.”

None of them said anything for a moment. 

“Theresa-Taylor?”

“Don’t,” she mumbled. “It’s a stupid name. Call me Terry if you really want to.”

“Terry,” he tried again. “It doesn’t really suit you.”

“It’s been years since someone called me that,” she smiled. “It doesn’t even sound right anymore, but it’s nice to hear it.”

“What if I called you mine instead?” he suggested. Double Tee’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“You’re amazing. You took a huge risk taking me here just to make me feel better. You’re the only person who gets me. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re kind, you’re…” he took a deep breath. “You’re the best person I have ever met. I’m in love with you, Terry.”

“El, I-”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted her. “I just… wanted to get it out of my system.”

With her eyes full of tears, she leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. He looked at her for a moment, then turned his head ever so slightly and closed the remaining space between them. It was only for the shortest moment, but it still felt as if time had stopped.

When they separated again, Loki gently put a strand of Double Tee’s hair behind her ear. “Don’t cry, darling,” he whispered, hugging her tight.

“This shouldn’t be,” she sobbed. “I shouldn’t have feelings for you. I’m so screwed.”

“No you’re not,” he said. “No one has to know.”

But then-

“Double Tee and Loki, sitting in a tree,” they heard from below them. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

They flinched and look down, only to see two other agents, Jay and Kay.

“Man, I never thought I’d get to sing that again,” Jay snickered.

“Get down here, Double Tee,” Kay said, his arms crossed on his chest. “You too, sir.” 

Double Tee sighed and jumped off the branch, landing on her feet but nearly falling over.

“Are you out of your mind?” Kay asked.

“Kay, wait,” Jay stopped him, noticing her puffy red eyes. “What’s wrong, girl? Is he hurting you?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine,” she snapped back. “Loki’s not… hurting me.”

“Then why are you crying?” he frowned.

“Because you are going to neuralyse him, aren’t you? You’re gonna take my only friend away from me.”

“You sure you guys are just friends?”

“Jay. Focus,” Kay scolded him. “You know the rules, Double Tee. No relationships with the outside world. And especially not stealing an MIB vehicle to go for a ride with the outside world. You of all people-”

“Me of all people!” she exclaimed. “Me of all people is sick of this! Me of all people is tired of not having anyone for myself! Me of all people is-”

“Lonely,” Jay finished for her. Double Tee gulped and nodded, noticing Kay’s face softening ever so slightly.

“We’ve all been there,” he said. “Sooner or later. Everyone gets lonely. And… sometimes falls in love with an alien.”

“That doesn’t sound stupid at all,” Jay mumbled.

“Point is,” Kay glared at him. “We just move on.”

“No,” Double Tee whimpered. “Don’t take it away from me. Please, Kay. I’m the happiest I have ever been.”

“You know the rules, Double Tee,” he insisted. “We have to neuralyse him and suspend you.”

“Kay, wait,” Jay interrupted him once more. “Look at her. You really want to break her? Maybe we could come up with something. He’s not really outside world, is he? He’s kind of one of us when you think about it.”

A spark of hope lightened Double Tee’s features. “Please, Kay.”

The older agent thought for a moment. “Fine. But if Oh finds out, you’re toast, understood?”

“Thank you!” she let out a sigh of relief. 

“We’ll still have to suspend you for the bike though,” he said. “We’ll take you both back.”

Double Tee turned to Loki behind her and smiled. “We’re okay,” she whispered, reaching for his hand. He returned the smile end entwined his fingers with hers.

“Aw, man, look at how cute they are!” Jay said.

[snarkwrites]

FFT: scream queen; shane walsh

Notes:

This... This is a part of Shane and Evie’s non apocalypse story. In which she briefly dabbled in being an actress / model and did mostly indie horror stuff. It is an intriguing angle, so yeah.. might explore it.

Summary:

Shane and Evie are reconnecting. And Shane doesn’t like Evie staying out at an old summer camp on the outskirts of their town by herself while shooting a horror movie, but.. Evie is stubborn. This leads to a frantic late night call to Shane and Shane, riding in to the rescue, guns blazing... Literally.

Warnings:

Uhh.. mentions of a stalker, bantering and bickering, mentions of a shootout and probably shaky af description of how actual functional medical personnel would handle a situation.

Pairing:

Shane Walsh x OFC, Evie

It was a little after midnight. Evie hadn’t been gone all that long, they’d spent Halloween night watching horror movies, talking and taking trips down memory lane. It all left Shane feeling nostalgic. It left him longing for what might have been, even if he’d die before admitting it just because he was half afraid that admitting it wouldn’t do a damn thing but drive her away.

Suffice to say, the ringing of his cell phone just as he was starting to drift off -and yeah, maybe dream of some of those ‘might have been’ situations, caught him by surprise.

When he heard her scream on the other end of the line, he felt himself starting to panic a little.

He knew that she had an overzealous fan who sent her weird letters, who occasionally popped up at shoots and the like, but Evie kept telling him the entire time that he expressed concern about it earlier in the evening that the guy was harmless, that she hadn’t heard from him in months since her old bodyguard caught him lingering outside a hotel she was staying in and ran the guy off then talked her into getting an order of restraint.

He knew and he didn’t like it. And he told her he didn’t like it, her staying out at one of the old cabins on set. She said it was method acting, that she wanted to get a feel for the character she was playing.

He’d pointed out that the place was old, surrounded by forest and should’ve been torn down years ago, not to mention, if her stalker were to make an appearance, she was miles out of town, near the quarry was the only place she could get cell reception. And naturally, given her loathing of weapons, she didn’t have anything but pepper spray and an old baseball bat.

He’d actually casually suggested that she stay with him, but she’d politely declined.

She screamed and the line went dead and he spent the next five seconds flooding her cell phone with calls and pacing, punching a hole in the dry wall. She’d sounded like she was running, wherever she was. He didn’t have time to waste, so bearing that in mind, he grabbed his Mossberg, a box of ammo and his keys and as he sped towards the outskirts of town, he called Rick and explained the situation. She’d apparently tried to call them both but lost signal, because he saw Rick and Lori’s SUV falling in behind him.

About a mile out and three miles away from that old camp by the lake, Evie’s convertible sat in the ditch, a door open and the engine running.

The tires had nails in them and Shane looked back and realized exactly why.

Someone had laid a strip of spikes across the road and covered it.. Then when her tires blew and she got out… He swore and kicked at the sports car, leaving a dent in the door and Rick started to look around, started calling out to his sister Evie.

Something told Shane that it wasn’t a good idea. He hushed his friend, explaining, “Don’t call out to her. We don’t want her answerin and whoever might be out here gettin to her before we kin.”  and instead of calling out to her, he started to walk towards the treeline, Mossberg slung over his shoulder. Rick took the other side of the treeline, with his dad’s old shotgun.

The glow of a cell phone screen caught his attention about the same time as he saw a third person stalking around quietly, looking for something. Now, it could’ve been a hunter, trying to do a little off season and illegal hunting, but Shane somehow doubted it, these woods hadn’t been a popular hunting spot in years.

He fired off a warning shot that settled into the tree the other person stood next to. When he saw Evie stand and start to run, he yelled. The other person fired off a shot of his own and Shane ducked behind the cover of trees, reloading his gun with shaky hands. The adrenaline was surging.. But it didn’t feel like the movies made it seem. Instead, everything seemed to move in slow motion. He saw Evie find Rick and he yelled out to her to get out of the forest.

The other person was still firing off shots, missing more than anything. Shane stood and leaned out, firing off a few rounds. He knew when he hit the other person, because he saw them drop to the ground, holding onto their leg. Shane walked over calmly and after Rick yelling out to make sure he didn’t need back up and him yelling back that Rick needed to call 911, he bent down to the guy and grabbed hold of his shirt, smirking.

“You’re under arrest, motherfucker. I’m gon make sure you cain’t ever even look at ‘er again, ya hear me?” Shane hauled the guy off the ground, putting an arm around his shoulder, making a point to tell Rick to get his cuffs and keep a gun on the guy so he didn’t get any bright ideas as he made his way out of the trees.

He didn’t realize that one of the rounds the guy fired off even hit his arm until the adrenaline wore off and he felt a sharp burning sting. He was raising his sleeve when Evie made her way over with Rick.

“Oh my god, Shane…”

“It’s nothin, hon. Ya need t’ be sittin down. Ankle’s swellin.” Shane stood there, staring down at her, trying to catch his breath. Instinct kicked in and he told her calmly, “If yer not willin to stay with me, at least consider goin with yer brother Rick.”

Evie swallowed hard, looking back and forth between her brother and the man she still loved more than anything. The prospect of sharing a roof with her brother’s wife wasn’t thrilling, but she was… Scared to let go, to give Shane another chance, to be hurt, to hurt him again.

… But if tonight has shown you anything, Evie, it should be that life is short… too short to spend it running from what you know you want… the thought prompted her to speak up, finally.

“Rick, I know what you’re about to say. And I will, okay? I’ll stay at Shane’s.”

“You could’ve stayed with me and Lori..”

“Every time I’m around her we fight and I don’t wanna make you miserable. I promise I’ll check in and visit. I swear.. I just..”

Rick looked from Shane to Evie and after hugging his younger sister tight he nodded. “You scared the hell out of me, lil bit.”

“Think about how I felt when all this started to happen, Ricky.”

Sirens broke the silence and the ambulance and backup squad car Rick called for showed up. Shane and Rick went into all business mode, helping a panicked Evie explain what happened as they took the man into the hospital under police custody.

Rick stuck around while the EMT checked out his sister, and when he was satisified that she was going to be okay, he gave her one last hug, made her promise to come by the next day and he left. It left her alone with Shane and she grabbed hold of his hand, dragging him over to the EMT.

“Woman, no. I’m fine.”

“You got dinged by a bullet, Shane so no.. You’re not fine.”

“It’s just a flesh wound, damn.”

She stopped, a hand on her hip and then instead of an argument, like they would’ve done back then, she took a deep breath and tried something different.

“I know you’re fine baby but can you let them look at it? For me? I’d feel a lot better.”

Shane eyed her and then, after a little grumbling, he let a medic look at the small wound. After it was taken care of, he nodded to her car.

“I’ll call a tow for that death trap of yers in the mornin, hon.”

“It’s not a death trap.”

“Goes way too damn fast for you.”

“It does not.”

“Okay, darlin, whatever you say. Can we finish this in my Bronco maybe? I’d really like t’ get some shut eye, somebody scarin the shit outta me tonight…”

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all night.”

[frenchie-sottises]

Angele Headcannons. (Part 2.)

I’m making a part two of this and they’re gonna be more along the lines of “quick facts”, so here we go.

- Looks like she’s 18 still, but is actually 24.

- Smart, yet forgetful as all heck. I.E.: She’ll know a car engine by heart, but there’s always a chance of her forgetting a name to a part. The only possible explanation of this is her anxiety, which has been recorded to have a connection between it and forgetfulness.

- Is the world’s best backwards driver.

- Figured out how to put a clutch in an automatic transmission and make it work.

- Custom built a total of 3 engines. 2 for one, 1 for a truck. Why? Cause the stock ones on both vehicles broke with a custom one breaking as well.

- Knows some ninjutsu.

- If you’re wondering how she knows all of this, she’s self taught and knows how to analyze from multiple sources.

- Is pretty strong for a female. Most conclude it to her being a hybrid, which is half true, but she can somehow switch between human strength and dragon strength. She prefers using human strength.

- Is the biggest Minecraft fan, but plays a version in which no one else has. It’s the Windows 10 version.

- Would be a bigger gamer if she didn’t play games no one else really plays, so she doesn’t mention much about her gaming life.

- No, she doesn’t make block houses, they’re legitimate houses. She even uses a floor planning tool to map things out.

- Has tried to make a circle in Minecraft without help once cause she remembered being complimented on her ability to draw perfect circles, so she thought if she can do that, then crafting one shouldn’t be much different. She actually came surprisingly close.. like one-pixel-off close.

- Plays in creative mode most of the time, but can do survival on hard just fine.

- Most of her music is gaming music. It’s mostly early 2000′s stuff like Sonic Adventure 2, Animal Crossing for the GameCube, and the original Need for Speed.

- If there’s a song she knows, you can bet she’s gonna sing it.

- “I AM THE E.G.G.M.A.N.! THAT’S WHAT I AM. I AM THE E.G.G.M.A.N.! I GOT THE MASTER PLAN!” - Angele in her bedroom in the middle of the night.

- Has taken a liking to industrial/dark music.

- “Get Low” is the only song she plays over and over when she works on her cars. No, it’s not the original version, it’s either the instrumental version or the NfS version.

- Is a memelord.

- “BE GONE, THOT!” - Angele about to slap Not-Hedorah for being annoying.

- When she stands for too long, she just squats and chills. She’s even done it on one leg before just to show off the fact that she’s just that metal.

- Thought Sonic’s grinding shoes in the Sonic Adventure 2 game were neat, so she built metal arches into the bottom of her boots.

- Yes, she can grind on rails, and no, I don’t just mean normal staircase rails. I also mean train track rails.

- Can’t say a joke without laughing like the giggly person she is.

- When there’s a chance for a pun, she will take it.

- Tried sculpting for the first time and it actually turned out better than she’d expected.

- Doesn’t know that she’s blushing till someone points it out. She can’t differ the feelings of blushing and the feelings of anxiety.

- Kinda hates her emotions. She feels like she’s too sensitive most of the time.

- Will never like fruit, but will happily eat vegetables.

- Has a large jukebox that literally looks like a Minecraft note block.

- Feels off when people offer to do things for her. She’s very used to being the one who does it.

- Will quote anything from games to vines.

- Will win a staring contest.

- Several things around the house have been sewn by her hands. This includes any plushies, pillows, blankets, and stockings.

- Got told several times about how good her sewing was. She still doesn’t know how to feel about it.

- Can almost play any instrument she gets her hands on. The most common are the bass, guitar, drums, violin, saxophone, and trombone.

- Singing would be included, but I’m talking stuff that’s learned. Singing’s a natural talent of hers.

- Can play the role of a therapist when someone needs it. I.E.: If someone is scared, she’s not afraid to ask what’s specifically bothering them. If they can’t tell her, she can figure it out on her own and ask later. If they do, or she pinpoints exactly what’s bothering them and they confirm it as so, she’s in most scenarios where she can just spill facts about why they shouldn’t be afraid of it. This has worked in quite a few cases.

- She somehow tricks people into thinking she’s more confident than she actually is. She thinks she’s nothing but an anxious mess that tries her best, but she’s often told by her friends that she radiates confidence to the point they feel better. She has no idea how that works, but she goes with it.

- Has tried spinach at one point in time. Loves it. It was, admittedly, cream cheese spinach with chicken, but she never expected to actually want it.

- Hasn’t taken an I.Q. test and wonders how high her I.Q. actually is.

- Hates math, but is actually pretty damn good at it.

- Has the patience of a saint and no one knows where she got it from.

- Watched some young woman her age from across the parking lot from where she works trying to take the hubcaps off. Instead of doing the common sense thing and use a proper wrench to unbolt them, the woman proceeded to “peel” them off by stepping on them and basically ruin them. She still questions that woman’s sanity.

- Despite being small, she still pokes fun at others who are shorter compared to others. She often gets socked in the gut for it, but she’s completely okay with it.

- Anything that’s supposed to make people’s heads hurt doesn’t work on her. This includes anything from saying stuff that contradicts itself to what she has to witness on the road every day. In most cases, she just laughs at it.

- Loves earrape memes. Thinks they’re freaking hilarious.

Okay, I’mma stop here for now. This is getting long.

[yasxgamal]

Basic Information

Full name: Yasin Gamal Pronunciation: ee-ah-ceen gah-mah-l Nickname(s): Yas, E. Birthdate: November 20th, 1986 Age: 34 Zodiac: Scorpio Gender: Male Pronouns: He/him/his Romantic orientation: Panromantic Sexual orientation: Pansexual Nationality: English Ethnicity: Egyptian Current location: London, UK Living conditions: Yas' place is a one-bedroom mess. It's a good flat, spacious and in a good location, all things considered, but he's not the best at decorating. Apart from the very odd artwork or two hanging crookedly on the walls, there isn't much more to it. He keeps his space clean and tidy when he has the time to do that, but it's not a very personal place. Also probably smells like smoke most of the time -- or, air freshener if he's trying to impress you.

Background

Birthplace: London, UK Hometown: London, UK Social Class: Wealthy if you count the parents' money, Middle if you consider his own money and lifestyle currently, and his tendencies to waste it all on cigarettes. Educational achievements: A really fancy degree in Computer Sciences and Computer Engineering at the most expensive college in the UK Father: Omar Gamal Mother: Safiya Gamal Sibling(s): Samir Gamal and Aisha Gamal. Birth order: Samir, Yas, Aisha is the youngest. Pets: Ramen, the stray cat that crawls in through his window and occasionally spends weeks sleeping inside, and then disappears for months on end. Previous relationships: One big relationship in college for 3 years, a miserable breakup. Then mostly only casual things after that, none he would consider true relationships. Arrests: N/A Prison time: N/A

Occupation & Income

Current occupation: Programmer for the Time Machine project Dream occupation: Programmer for the first working Time Machine Past job(s): College Era: various internships, waiter, freelance photographer for kids' parties, freelance I.T., tech teacher for the elderly, tech teacher for children, coder and manager for a pornographic film company's website. Post-College Era: has helped coding and programming several apps and softwares independently, then a stable job at GoodCore Software Ltd. as SQA Lead. Spending habits: Yas spends a lot on cigarettes and technology, but everything else he doesn't care enough for. In debt?: No Most valuable possession: Emotionally, his own laptop or phone, and all the photos and memories stored in them, as well as his work. Legally and monetarily, though, it's the BAFTA statuette from his sister, which he now gets to keep for a year because he won a bet (it's fine, she has more than one).

Skills & Abilities

Physical strength: Average Speed: Average Intelligence: Above Average when it comes to all things technology, Average on some other subjects. Accuracy: Average Agility: Above Average Stamina: Above Average Teamwork: Great in environments where everyone is delegated a certain job and he gets to do his thing in his corner to add to the mix. When it comes to people wanting to mess with his codes, he gets a bit stubborn and difficult to deal with. Shortcomings: often lets his pride ruin things, a bit of an inflated ego when it comes to his work, bad at communicating. Languages spoken: English, Arabic Drive?: Yes Jump-start a car?: No Change a flat tyre?: Yes Ride a bicycle?: Poorly Swim?: Yes Play an instrument?: If you count the guitar lessons in his childhood (he does) Play chess?: Yes Braid hair?: No Tie a tie?: Yes Pick a lock?: No Cook?: Yes, the very bare minimum, and he hardly does it.

Physical Appearance & Characteristics

Faceclaim: Rami Malek Eye colour: Greyish green Hair colour: Black Hair type/style/length: Shaved on the sides, originally short on top but it grows out too fast and he can't be bothered to get a haircut, so it grows out curly. When it starts to become a mop and look like he has a helmet of hair on, he cuts it short again, and repeats that cycle. Glasses/contacts?: No, but they're needed. He has shit eyesight and no one ever forced him to get glasses so he never did. Don't ask him to read any signs that are far away. Dominant hand: Right Height: 5'9 / 175cm Weight: 154 lb / 70kg Build: Slim Exercise habits: Nonexistent, but he does a lot of walking Skin tone: Olive (Type IV) Tattoos: The initials of his siblings, A.S. in a simple font, on the bottom of his ribs on his right side. They all have matching ones. He continuously tells them the joke that they should get a fourth sibling with an S name, so he can get A.S.S. tattooed instead. Piercings: None Marks/scars: Several small scars around his legs and arms, from climbing around and getting into trouble as a middle child desperate for attention. A more notorious scar runs up behind his left elbow from a night in college when he got wasted with his friends and had an accident with a knife (don't ask). Clothing style: Black, a lot of black. The most colourful thing in his closet might be a dark grey jumper. Very minimalistic in the sense that he never wears patterns or colours or graphic tees, it's always just very dry and kind of bland. He probably could get into fashion if he wanted to, but he feels bad spending so much of his hard-earned money on the high-fashion stuff. Also he can frequently be spotted wearing those compression gloves/braces on his hands, for carpal tunnel syndrome Jewellery: A couple necklaces that have no emotional attachment besides "I thought they were cool so I bought them", but he's never without them, even when they mostly just hang inside his shirts. Dabbles in rings if he's feeling fancy. Allergies: None Diet: Consists of mostly snacks. He occasionally buys the healthy kind, like a couple granola bars or some fruit, but if he's going through a big project, he'll only snack. Anything easy to eat with one hand goes. He does, however, understand the value of nutrition and that he needs to fuel his body properly every once in a while; when that happens, he resorts to ordering food from some healthy restaurant nearby. It's basically a couple salads a month and then nothing but Doritos for days straight. Physical ailments: Carpal tunnel syndrome happens often enough that it's almost chronic, because he doesn't usually take breaks or stretch his wrists out like he's supposed to. Back pain from sitting all day (and bad posture) is also so present that he barely notices it anymore.

Psychology

MBTI type: INTJ Enneagram type: Type Five Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Temperament: Somewhere between Phlegmatic and Melancholic? Element: Water Emotional stability: Who is she! Introvert or Extrovert? Introvert Obsession(s): Outdoing his siblings, no matter how much he loves them Compulsion(s): Working to the point of forgetting to take care of himself Phobia(s): Acrophobia and atychiphobia Addiction(s): Cigarettes/Vaping Drug use: Sometimes wrongly and terribly pops an Adderall when pulling all-nighters. Has smoked weed before, but he doesn't love the slowness of when he gets high. Alcohol use: Not very often nowadays, but the occasional blackout still happens. He's known to become a completely different person when he drinks, much more loose and fun and happy, so he does it sparingly Prone to violence?: No Prone to crying?: No Believe in love at first sight?: Yes, but doesn't think he's the type to ever experience that, since it takes a while for him to get close to people, so he believes in it as an abstract concept

Mannerisms

Accent: RP English Speech quirks: A lot of pauses between words and sentences, since he often thinks a lot before he speaks. The occasional ums and uhs and some stuttering if his mind is working faster than he can speak, too. Hobbies: Photography, playing video games, reading novels (graphic or otherwise), finding passive-aggressive memes to send into the Gamal siblings groupchat Habits: Stealing wifi, smoking and vaping, ordering delivery of everything instead of getting it himself Nervous ticks: lip chewing, tapping fingers, bouncing one knee, scratching his neck/jaw or touching his nose Drives/motivations: It's all for the glory, babey Fears: Never achieving anything grand Sense of humour?: It goes as far as memes and roasting his loved ones, but not much further than that. He's usually not comfortable enough to crack jokes, but you might get a sarcastic comment or two if you're lucky. Deep down, he can be sharp and quick-witted, but it doesn't come out often, unless he's having drinks. Do they curse often?: Hecc yes, probably as a form of rebellion against his posh parents

Favourites

Animal: Tarsier Beverage: Strong black coffee with two spoons of sugar Book: Don Quixote, by Miguel de Cervantes Colour: Green Food: Zalabya Flower: Jasmine Gem: Peridot Mode of transportation: Walking, and if not, the metro Scent: Oranges Sport: Tennis Weather: Rainy enough that he doesn't feel anyone's judgement for staying inside all day Vacation destination: Japan

Attitudes

Greatest dream: Finally being famous for his work Greatest fear: Never achieving anything big enough to make him happy, and being forever miserable because of it Most at ease when: Left by himself or enjoying someone else's company that he's truly comfortable with, probably in silence, doing his own thing Least as ease when: Forced into environments where he has to put on fancy clothes and pretend to be enjoying himself when he's not. Alternatively: when he's going on hour 32 without any sleep and he's denied more coffee Worst possible thing that could happen: Achieving greatness but realising he needs something else in order to feel fulfilled and be happy Biggest achievement: His degree and hopefully the first working Time Machine Biggest regret: He doesn't like to say he regrets things, so there's nothing he'd call a huge regret. But if he had to say something, he'd probably say it was not telling that one high school crush that he liked them.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Sixty-Two: Dropped Off ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Madara ] [ SasuHina, vulgarity] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ] [ AO3 Link ]

“Ugh, that movie totally bombed. I can’t believe I wasted money on a ticket…”

“Really? I didn’t think it was that bad. I mean, at least it was something to watch…?”

“No way, it’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back! Let alone the price of admission!”

Trailing behind as her friends bicker, Hinata keeps her opinions to herself. This lot tends to be rather...set in their ways when it comes to matters like this. So she typically just smiles and nods.

At least they thought to invite her.

Doing just that as one looks back to confirm their bias, Hinata can’t then help a glance to the other side of the street.

...it’s empty.

That’s strange...she could have swore she saw -

“C’mon, Hinata! Get in - we’ll drop you off by your dorm, okay?”

“O-oh! Right.” Finagling her way into a rear seat, Hinata mostly zones out as the ‘discussion’ about the film continues. In truth, all she can think about is a good night’s sleep. Maybe give Sasuke a quick text to let him know she made it back okay...not that she told him she was leaving in the first place. She just...didn’t want to deal with him lecturing her about safety. Again. After all, she did as asked: she didn’t go alone. That was all he’d cautioned: stick with a group, especially after dark.

“Okay, here we are! See you in class Monday!”

“Mhm!” Opening the passenger door as they pull up alongside the entrance to her dorm’s parking lot, Hinata turns and gives a wave as they drive off. The bright entrance to the multistoried building is like a lighthouse for her little exhausted ship of a body. Ugh...no more late movie nights. At least she doesn’t have class tomorrow…

Digging out her phone, she starts walking as she pulls up her conversation with Sasuke. It’s been a few days since he’s checked on her...a little weird, but also a little refreshing. He’s been so paranoid lately…

Eyes on her screen and senses dulled with exhaustion, she doesn’t notice the near-silent engine behind her, or the featherlight footsteps. It’s not until an arm locks like an iron bar around her middle that she gasps as a rag covers her mouth. In breathe the chemicals that quickly begin to befuddle her mind. Hands reaching to try and tear the limb away, her phone drops to the asphalt, kicked in her struggle under a nearby car.

It only takes a few seconds. In a blink, she’s in the mystery vehicle, which pulls away from the promise of safety that is her dorm.

Blocks away, having been up since sundown, Sasuke finishes a shower after his typical evening workout. Towel dragging down his face, he glances to a clock. It’s not too late yet...maybe he’ll give Hinata a quick text, see if she’s awake. That is, after he waters the plant she gave him. At least he hasn’t killed it yet.

When he pulls up her message history, he’s surprised to find a new notification. Seems she beat him to the punch.

But the message within sharply furrows his brow.

Heyfdg

...what the hell? Did someone grab her phone and hit a few unintended keys before sending that? Sent fifteen minutes ago...surely by now she’d send an apology text and an explanation.

Something in his gut clenches with a nauseous knowing.

Throwing on a fresh outfit, he skips the elevator and instead quickly climbs down the railings of the apartment building stairwell. In a matter of seconds, he goes from the tenth floor to the ground. He also forgoes his car, eyes flashing red as he shifts and lets buried biology go to work.

Too fast to be seen, he cuts through the city nightlife to the campus his witchy companion attends. Shifting to a fully human guise before moving to the door, he glances through the glass in an attempt to spot her...then glances up to the proper window on the third floor. Slipping into shadows, he simply leaps from sill to sill, gripping their edges with sturdy fingers before peering through her panes.

Empty. Everything in order.

...what is going on?

Dropping back to the lawn, he takes out his phone and gives her a call. It rings and rings, but...no answer. Her little message plays, and he mutters, “Hyūga, you better have a damn good explanation for this.” Shifting again, he takes a slow walk around the grass and parking lot near her building. By now, he’s more than familiar with her scent, heightened senses letting him pick up far more than your typical human nose. Not quite Kakashi’s werewolf levels, but..good enough.

When he finds a trace, he’s standing near where cars can pull in and out of the lot. Taking  a deep breath, he tries to guess the time passed based on its strength. Half an hour, maybe? One last time, he pulls out his phone, redialing her number.

...then he hears it.

It would be nearly impossible to pick up for anyone else, but shifted, he hears the subtle vibrations of metal against asphalt. Looking around, he narrows it down, crouching behind a car.

There. It’s her phone. Screen cracked, it was clearly dropped.

Panic quickly bubbles up in his gut. Why did she drop her phone? Why didn’t she pick it up? Where the hell is she?!

Cutting the call, he instead tries his brother. “...aniki, I -”

“Sasuke, you need to get here now. I was just about to call you.”

Oh shit. Oh fuck. “...did he find her?”

“Yes. He’s on his way - she was just brought in.”

“Where?”

“North headquarters.”

“...I’ll be there soon.” With a press of his thumb, the call ends.

For a moment, he stands stock still. Eyes wide and expression bordering on manic, his chest shakes with trembling breath.

He knew this would happen...he knew...and he didn’t protect her. While he realizes he couldn’t just derail her entire life to keep her safe...he started all of this when he saved her life. And it escalated when she saved his.

...and now she’s in danger far greater than a random Nightwalker attack.

Before he can stop it, his grip on both phones shatters them into crumpled metal and broken glass. He’s full of a myriad of emotions. Anger, disappointment...and fear.

In a blink, he flickers from view. Even for a vampire, he pushes the limits of his body to reach maximum speed. Any moment he taries might be her last.

Hinata...wait for me…!

I’m sorry…

Skidding to a stop outside the imposing manor that Madara claims for his main base of operations, Sasuke struggles to catch his breath. That’s strange...he doesn’t see the typical anthill of activity - increased security - that comes with a visit from their patriarch. Red eyes squinted under furrowed brows, he jogs up to the front door. Time to find Itachi and figure out what the hell is going on.

But as he reaches for the handle, it opens from within.

And Sasuke’s heart stops.

Looking down at him with an almost bored expression, Madara manages a hint of a smirk. “Well now...I was beginning to wonder when you would join us, my boy. Come...we have much to discuss. And there’s someone who’s been dying for you to arrive.”

Temper ignoring any trace of reason he might have managed, Sasuke frenzies on the spot. All control lost as deep-rooted instinct overtakes him, he makes to launch forward, nails sharpened and fangs bared.

But iron-like arms pin his own behind him, holding him back like a rabid dog on a leash.

“Keep your head, Sasuke.”

Like a punch to the gut, his brother’s voice cuts through his mental fog. Completely unphased, Madara simply stares with his same expression, not a hair out of place - he didn’t even flinch.

“...aniki…!”

“Remember your place.”

At Itachi’s words, he gives in to the inevitable dizziness and fatigue that come from losing a frenzied state, head bowing and shoulders wilting in his brother’s grip.

“...now, if we’re all ready to be civilized,” Madara then drawls, “we’ll be far more at leisure to speak comfortably inside. You’ve always had that spark of temper, Sasuke...I know it well. Therefore, I will overlook this little fit. You must learn to think before you act. Being rash will cost you.”

Still limp, Sasuke staggers a bit as Itachi slowly releases him. Catching his eye as he lifts his head, Itachi gives a look that - in any other eyes - would be a blank yet stern glance to mind his manners.

But Sasuke knows his brother better than anyone. He can read between those lines. Patience, he says silently. It’s not yet time.

Gritting his jaw, he gives just as hidden an agreement. Itachi is right. They’ve come this far...they can’t let anything get in their way. So, he squares his shoulders and makes to follow.

They better pray they didn’t give her a single scratch...or I will be spilling blood tonight.

                                                            .oOo.

     :3c Whoops, my hand slipped, and now we have angst.      So this is honestly my favorite series in the series, lol - I might have to revamp it once the year long challenge is over, and make it a proper fic. Cuz I enjoy this way too much!      Seems Sasuke's finally been outplayed - Madara's gotten his hands on the little witchy woman. What does he want with her? Well...I guess we'll have to wait and see!      And also, a small note: as some of you might remember, the Nightwalker universe is my own original twist on monster characters, complete with its own world and lore. And the frenzy state Sasuke slipped into when Madara not-too-subtly made his threat? That was a big deal. Frenzy is a Nightwalker's last resort when in danger, angry, etc. It's a reversion to the most basic of instincts: a major power buff, but at the cost of their conscious mind. So the fact that even just a hint of Hinata being hurt flung him all the way into being frenzied is a big deal. Think Naruto going bijū mode against Pein, but straight to all nine tails in an instant. And he didn't even SEE her hurt - he doesn't even know if she is. BUT, he knows Madara is big trouble, and his mind snapped straight to a frenzy against one of - if not THE - most powerful Nightwalker in Japan.      Jussayin' :3c      Aaanyway, it's late, and I'm v tired, so...time for sleep! Thanks so much for reading n_n

[haloud]

take a chance and don’t ever look back -- chapter 4

ao3

Life in Roswell seemed impossibly small when he was a kid with a ticket out, but even then he had no idea how boring it could be. Work on the ranch keeps his hands busy and soothes his soul; the Fosters have been good to him in a life where Michael can’t say that often. Still, though, his brain paces his skull like a circus tiger, coiled and starving. People don’t talk to you when you start sixth grade in clothes three sizes too big; people don’t talk to you when you’re twenty-five and day drunk on household chemicals.

Boredom’s gotten Michael into trouble more and more over the past eight years but agreeing to help plan Isobel’s wedding just might take the (proverbial) cake.

Four hours into Isobel’s book of fabric samples, he’s slumped in the corner of his bunk and wracked with a new respect for his sister’s choice of career. He groans, “Why do you even need an assistant? You’ve planned a million weddings. And this time you won’t even have to argue with people who are too dumb to know that you know everything.”

Isobel stops pacing and wheels to face him with her hands on her hips, a pale satin tie clenched in each fist. “Because a good wedding is the result of the competition between two forces: an idiot with a vision and me, who knows how to make it happen. If fewer than five screaming fights take place, I consider a project a total failure.”

“Iz, I’m not gonna fight you; you know I’ll just agree because I want this to be special for you.”

“Well, if you really want this to be the wedding of my dreams—” She fights back a smile, “—you can start by having an opinion between ash blue and periwinkle. Really let me have it.”

“Periwinkle is for dumb sluts.”

“That’s the spirit,” she says, tossing the ash blue tie into the reject corner with all the rest. “Excellent. With that done, we’re all set for you guys’ fittings next week. Is Friday okay for you? Max has a thing on Saturday.”

“Iz…”

“You’re sitting in the front row, so you don’t get to say no. And before you say anything at all,” Isobel sticks her palm in Michael’s face, “I’m paying for Max’s suit too. As if I’m going to let my own brothers make their own wardrobe choices on my wedding day. How stupid do you think I am?”

“Front row, huh?” An unexpected lump in his throat blocks the words, leaving them watery and weak. He scrubs at the back of his head as Isobel gives him an exasperated look.

“Of course. None of Noah’s family will be there, so we’re not having traditional attendants or anything, but that doesn’t mean you’re not still my maid of honor.” She reaches out and cups his cheek. Her eyes glisten bright, too.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

“Doesn’t need to; you’re already here. Dumbass.”

Michael gasps dramatically as she claps him on the cheek. Then Isobel goes back into action mode, taking a step back, straightening her shoulders, and tossing her hair back like they hadn’t just been thirty seconds from weeping openly in each other’s arms.

“Alright,” she says, “I’m off to put the fear of god into a pastry chef. I’ll be back tomorrow, though—next, you get to help me put the playlist together.”

She tears out of the lot, the same terror behind the wheel she was at eighteen. He watches her go, unease prickling in his guts.

He…doesn’t want to put together a wedding playlist.

He hasn’t had much to do with music in a long time. Mostly, it just hurts. It hurts to not even be able to mock the fingerings against his thigh. It hurts to think of musicians who never got to live their dreams. It hurts to hear about love, and it hurts to be that guy who turns off the radio because of an old flame.

Not that Isobel knows any of this. Just another secret under lock and key. He’s got a lot of those, in the form of a literal locked box among several boxes he keeps shoved in drawers and under things, stuffed in the hidden corners of his life. He pulls it out and sits in in his lap; he fiddles with the little padlock holding it shut safe.

It—it was never an actual dream he had, or anything. It never formed fully in his mind. They never even knew each other until it was already too late, even if they didn’t know it at the time. Helping Isobel with all the preparing, it—it shouldn’t be this hard.

The problem is. The problem is he kind of likes it.  Sitting shoulder to shoulder with his sister on his narrow bunk while she lectures him on fabric integrity and color theory. Comparing flower varieties until he fears he’s lost his sense of smell entirely. Eating so much over-sweetened cake it makes him sick. It’s boring as hell, and frustrating, and overly extravagant, and. He wants it. And he shouldn’t want it. Not while he’s half a murderer with a rap sheet as long as Max’s latest light reading. Not while the only person he’d ever ask could be dead already, and no one even knew to tell him.

With an old, resigned ache beating dully in his throat, he slips the lock and nudges the box open. Inside are the usual suspects—old institutional copies of a human birth certificate, a Social Security card, some emergency cash, the title for his truck, all beside a small stash of other things. As a kid, he’d been a bit of a magpie. Treasure always found its way to his fingertips—pocket-sized ones, in case he had to leave again. Beads and bits of embroidery thread; glittering stones and false keys. He grew out of the habit slowly after aging out of the system. He kept what kept his memories alive and discarded the rest. He runs his fingertips over the remnants, and they feel impossibly small. A single earring of Isobel’s, missing its twin. A button off an old jacket of Max’s that someone might mistake for gold. A necklace he found at a secondhand shop—two bullet casings and a chunk of quartz threaded on a ribbon—he’d meant to leave on Rosa’s memorial before Max looked at him with salt and sulfur in his face and told him to stop going before people started talking. And there’s—just one other thing.

He stayed a magpie when it came to Alex Manes; he kept an unhealthy number of trinkets in a desperate bid to keep him close. A stub of eyeliner pencil he found in the footwell of the passenger seat. A handful of chipped guitar picks dropped on the desert sand by clever, distracted hands. Hell, he even kept an old flyer from the UFO Emporium, just because he remembered it tacked on the glass of the ticket window the day they kissed in the dark. But nothing Alex left him belongs in this box of mundane essentials and things a desperate someone might think to steal. Nothing except the thing that was never his, and always was.

Michael started helping Sanders out on weekends and days off school when he was fifteen. The old man’s sight was going, and though he refused to admit it to even Michael’s face, he knew it was a good idea to hire someone on to pick up the slack. The yard was the closest thing to a haven Michael had—it felt good to work with his hands, no one would go looking for him there, and even if Sanders could be a real bastard, he never raised his voice or his fists around Michael.

Late on a summer evening, Michael was bent double under the hood of a tourist’s Mercedes, searching for the source of a weird clunk its owner started hearing from the engine after an oil change, when he felt something cool and smooth on the tip of his finger. With a little extraterrestrial assistance, he straightened up with it in his palm—a simple silver band, no adornment, no engraving.

Sanders laughed his cackling smoker’s laugh about people dumb enough to lose a ring inside a car; red-faced, the car’s owner swore up and down that it wasn’t his, never seen it before, he’d never do anything that stupid.

So Michael just…kept it. Carried it around in his pocket. Kept it in his glove box, took it out sometimes to look at it, put it in his lockbox once he settled down a bit.

Even at seventeen, he wasn’t that kind of romantic. Marrying Alex Manes didn’t start to cross his mind until…he can’t even pinpoint when it was, exactly, that looking at the ring started feeling like looking at his future, started feeling like it deserved a matching set. It just feels natural, now, that the day he fell in love with Alex he already had a ring in his pocket.

He thinks back to being touched all nervous and hungry, and he thinks Alex might have loved him just a little, too. Maybe not enough, maybe not enough for a lifetime together, but Michael would still like the chance—that’s all he wants, just the chance—to go down on one knee and find that out some day.

But hey. It’s not about him right now; it’s about giving Iz the best damn day of her life. Helping her forget the secrets and the lies, just for a little. So he replaces the lock on the box, replaces his aching back on its shelf, and starts scrolling through the music on his phone.

He dances as Isobel’s wedding. He dances with his sister and with girls he knew from high school; he dances with Noah’s lawyer friends and other people he’s never even met before. He dances with acetone cutting his blood and his brain a thousand miles away, under vaulted ceilings and, later, under the stars.

--

In a clean, cold hospital half a world away, dancing gets a little more complicated for Alex Manes.

[fleur-de-leap]

TFA Team Cast Reunited

[setaripendragon]

Snily AU - Book 2?

So, here I go again, on a massive long ramble about this stupidly self-indulgent AU I’ve come up with. If you want a recap, I think I’m going to tag this AU under ‘role swap AU’, which is what it’s turned out to be, even if it started as just a simple ‘what if Snily instead of Jily?’ AU, so just search for the role-swap-AU tag on my blog.

And, as before, putting this monster beneath a read more, because, really, I’m writing an entire not!fic here. This is longer than some of the actual oneshots I’ve written, fml...

I’m just going to pick up where I left off; the summer holidays at the beginning of book two. Of course, a lot of what we see in the books is going to belong to Neville, now. I honestly can’t decide if Dobby would think to try stopping Neville’s mail, since he’s not quite as isolated as Harry was. Maybe he tries some other mischief. If he does end up showing himself, I can only imagine Augusta hitting the roof over this interference. (Maybe she even recognises Dobby as a Malfoy elf and gives Lucius what for about it?)

I like the idea that Neville is just as clumsy with the floo as Harry is, and the whole Borgin and Burke’s scene happens pretty much as per canon. Idk if Hagrid would find him or not, but either way he would, eventually get back to Diagon Alley safely (because he, unlike Harry, grew up in the Wizarding World and knew roughly where he was).

But I don’t know if he’d meet the Weasleys there. He certainly wouldn’t have needed rescuing, so what if instead of going there with a friend, it’s more of a coincidence. What if he just happens to bump into Harry there. Harry, who’s there with Sirius and Remus, of course, but also with the Snapes. Lily and Severus and Maeve, and her two younger brothers, Azrael and Gilgamesh. Because Maeve is starting Hogwarts this year and they’re making a big day of it, and Lily invited Remus & co because why not? So Neville bumps into them in Flourish and Blotts, right before he gets recognised by Lockhart.

And, of course, Lucius Malfoy still has his massive beef with the Weasleys for being blood-traitors and poor as dirt, as per canon, but in this AU, I think he’d have an even bigger beef with Severus. Severus, who Lucius was supposed to recruit, Severus whom he groomed for the role and made promises of everything the Dark Lord would give him if Severus fought for him, Severus who embarrassed him so massively in front of the Dark Lord when he picked a mudblood bitch over all that power and promise.

So it’s not Ginny Weasley who gets the Diary, it’s Maeve Snape. Lucius slips it in among her books while making snide comments about Severus sullying himself, how very like his muggle-loving mother, a legacy he must be so proud of- Lily shuts him up by punching him square in the jaw. And probably makes a comment about how does Lucius like being put on his ass by a mudblood, with muggle fighting techniques. Not so inferior now, huh? And Remus makes a quip about Lily being a healer, and wasn’t there something in her oaths about not doing harm? And Lily’s like ‘I swore to fight parasites and diseases, and that’s exactly what I did.’

And I want Draco to have a very complicated problem here, because on the one hand, he’s been conditioned to side with his father, and his father doesn’t like Severus Snape. But Draco, canonically, likes alchemy and potion-making, and Severus has, in this verse, had the opportunity to become a rather world-renowned name in the field. Draco, deep down and so secretly he barely admits it to himself (right next to where he hides his massive, debilitating crush on Harry), wants an apprenticeship with Severus when he’s older. So he’s bitter about it, and even more bitter because he’d entertained hopes of befriending Maeve, selling it to his father as luring her away from her family, but honestly mostly just in the hopes of getting an in with famous Potioneer and Alchemist Severus Snape. But no, she’s friends with Harry Potter, the bane of Draco’s entire existence. So he’s an even more pissy little shit than usual.

And that’s the summer, so now they’re off to Hogwarts. Except, of course, Dobby. And this is where things start getting complicated. Because I think Dobby would still stop Neville going through the barrier, since it’s one of the surest ways to stop or delay him, a point he has to pass through, and there’s no way around, and there’s a time limit. He probably has sneaky ways to make sure the Longbottoms are late, so there wouldn’t even be drama of there being a lot of people stuck, not just Neville. But would Ron be with him? Was any of the delay the Weasleys suffered Dobby’s fault? Do they get there earlier? So here’s the real important question:

9) Does Neville fly the car to Hogwarts? 9a) If the Weasleys are even there, does Ron even get stuck with Neville? Or is it someone else? The twins? Ginny?

I hadn’t thought of that before, but that could be interesting, actually. The two of them would be so shy around each other, Neville just naturally timid and self-effacing, and GInny over-come by her hero-worship crush. But Ginny is bold, when she’s not intimidated by trying to impress her crush, so if Neville did mention waiting by the car, I think she would be daredevil and stubborn enough to suggest flying it to school. I think the lure of all that time alone with her crush would be enough to make her push, even if Neville was hesitant and dubious.

Still, the question stands. Either way, he gets to Hogwarts eventually. And Ginny, Maeve, and Luna are devastated to realise they’re all in different houses, but Harry encourages them to not let house divisions come between them.

Which, speaking of house divisions, brings me to a plot point I really like. Of course, because they’re both in Slytherin, Harry and Draco can’t have their epic Quidditch rivalry. There can only be one Slytherin Seeker, after all. So, of course, they both try out, and it’s a furious competition, and they’re almost neck-and-neck. And eventually, Marcus Flint decides one of them is reserve Seeker, while the other gets the actual positions. So, of course, before every match, the reserve Seeker tries to sabotage the actual Seeker so that they get to play in the match. So of course, when the next year rolls around, and the reserve Seeker gets to be on the actual team, the new reserve Seeker sabotages them right back.

I think that, behaviour-wise, it makes more sense for Draco to be the reserve Seeker in their second year, to start off the whole sabotage-drama? I think Harry would be petty enough to try sabotaging Draco (remember, he is a Slytherin this go around), especially if he thought Marcus Flint had shown favouritism by picking Draco. (Maybe because of the broom-bribe?) But I haven’t even begun to think how it might play out in later years, so I’m not sure.

And following on from the quidditch-related questions; given that Neville doesn’t play quidditch, there can’t be any rogue bludger, so there really need to be other ways for Dobby to attempt to injure Neville enough to get sent home. I have no idea what they might be, though. I mean, Neville is already clumsy, so maybe he just seems to be having an Extra Clumsy Year or something, but that doesn’t seem like enough? I thought maybe, that if he didn’t fly the car to Hogwarts, this might be a good way for Neville to encounter the Whomping Willow? He is, after all, really interested in Herbology. Dobby might engineer an incident there?

I really ought to reread the second book (or listen to the audiobook, at least), because I’m a bit fuzzy on the order of events, but I think the only crucial plot point before the whole rogue bludger thing was the Deathday Party, right? I think that would all happen pretty much the same. No reason for it not to, really. And then, of course, because Dobby is trying to injure Neville, even without the bludger, he probably would end up in the hospital wing eventually, and Colin Creevey would try to visit him. But hey, would Ginny go with him? I kind of like the idea that they became sort of friends, bonding over their shared crushes on Neville. But if she goes with him, does she get petrified, too? That kind of ruins the whole only-muggle-borns streak right out of the gate, but it might be an interesting avenue to explore?

10) Who gets to be Slytherin Seeker first? Harry or Draco? 11) How does Dobby attempt to not-kill Neville? 12) Does Ginny go with Colin to visit Neville in the hospital wing? 12a) If she does, does she get petrified? Or does she avoid it? 12b) If she does avoid it; how?

And then we come to the duelling club. No Sev here, he’s free of that blasted classroom, so who does Lockhart rope in as his ‘assisstant’? My first thought was Flitwick, since he’s the renowned duelist on staff. But then I thought: McGonagall. Can you imagine McGonagall getting stuck having to deal with Lockhart in full on show-off mode? I think it might even be as entertaining as the actual canon dueling club.

Draco still summons a snake, and Neville still talks to it, and everyone still thinks he’s the Heir of Slytherin, as per canon. Only, in this verse, Neville actually has sort-of-friends in Slytherin. They’re not close, but they know and like each other, and Slytherin house is losing it’s collective mind at the notion of an actual real life parseltongue at Hogwarts. Jealousy and awe run rampant, and Harry and Tracey can tell Neville all about it. And most importantly, when Neville starts angsting over how it’s a Dark Art and maybe he is just a failure and an awful person deep down, Blaise, a well-educated pureblood from a Slytherin family can tell Neville all about the good parseltongues. (I really hate how inconsistent JKR was about that sort of thing. Dumbledore says “It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” and yet JKR doesn’t have one example of a natural born parseltongue being good. Fuck you, madam. Fuck. You.)

When I was a kid, one of my favourite books was D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths, and one of the stories in it that stuck with me was the story of Melampus, who nursed a nest of orphaned snakes, and in return they licked his ears so clean he could hear and understand the language of animals. If that isn’t a perfect ‘origin of parseltongue’ story (Blaise: The muggles got it a bit wrong, of course, it wasn’t all animals, even snakes aren’t that wise, but they did teach him their own language) I don’t know what is. And he used the knowledge he gained from talking to them to heal. That, in fact, Parseltongue was known as a language of healing until only very recently. (Snakes are literally part of the symbol of western medicine ffs.)

And that maybe in other countries, like India and China, parseltongue is practically revered. They have their own parseltongue lines, and they’re honoured and maybe even rulers. (Are Chinese/East Asian Dragons snake-like enough to speak parseltongue? Do they speak dragonese? Are they bilingual?)

And Merlin, okay. I headcanon that Merlin was a parseltongue. Because I don’t care what JKR may have said on the subject, Merlin existed sometime around 500AD, which is five hundred years before Hogwarts even existed. He could not have been a Slytherin. However, I do really like the idea of him being Slytherin’s ancestor. (Which would also help explain Slytherin’s reputation for being obsessed with lineage. If I had Merlin in my family tree, I’d fucking brag about it, too.) And modern witches and wizards who aren’t historians only know vaguely that he’s associated with Slytherin, which then gets mistaken for him being in Slytherin. And any sufficiently educated witch or wizard (Hermione) will get so frustrated with that misconception because the dates don’t even match up you uneducated nitwit.

And of course Slytherins have a different opinion on Slytherin himself. Maybe when Hermione hears Tracey, a muggleborn like herself, defending the most famous hater of muggleborns in history (besides Voldemort), she gets all geared up for a Research Project, and she and Tracey disappear into the library together for hours on hours looking for unbiased sources and historical accounts of what Slytherin was actually like.

Sorry about that tangent, I just have a lot of feelings about parseltongues and Slytherin and Merlin and Greek Myths. Anyway, back to the plot; I think the whole Christmas drama with the polyjuice potion should just be scrapped. It just doesn’t work when the Boy Who Lived has friends in Slytherin and can just ask. I think Harry would definitely be of the opinion that Draco really probably isn’t the Heir (Harry: If Malfoy were descended from Slytherin himself, I think we would have heard about it by now. At great length. In detail. Every day.)

But maybe there was still a bit of an incident over Christmas, because Draco was mouthing off about how he hopes the next attack kills someone, and Harry argues with him, and it turns into a massive thing, with students from all years weighing in on this side or that. And Maeve is just sitting in the corner shrinking in her seat because she’s really starting to think ‘what if it’s me?’

So she tries to get rid of the diary. Maybe she confides in Ginny and Luna. (Or, just Luna, if Ginny is petrified...) I think she probably actually showed them the diary in the first place, and Luna made some vaguely disturbing comments about it, and Ginny thought it was neat, but they didn’t get sucked in like Maeve did, and they’ve been really kind of worried about her, so when she goes to them and explains - not all of it, she’s too frightened to admit to all of it, but she does tell them she thinks there’s something wrong with the diary, that maybe it’s hurting her - they’re (Luna’s) really relieved to help her get rid of it.

But does Neville find it? I mean, the whole thing is such a damn coincidence, but... hmm, Harry did find his way right to the diadem in the Room of Requirement, so if we work on the basis that Horcruxes are at least somewhat aware of each other and possibly even drawn to each other, then I think Neville would have to find it. (Whew, at least that’s one plot-bending point avoided.)

Next is Valentine’s Day. Ugh. This all depends on whether Ginny is petrified or not, doesn’t it? That’s probably an arguement for her not being petrified, because I can’t think of anyone else who has the right connections here. Of course, what the hell would happen if Neville kept the diary? Or would Maeve just steal it out of his bag at some point? I think she would have to. But if Ginny’s awake, then it goes basically like it did in canon, only Maeve is with Ginny when Neville’s bag splits, and she’s the one who panics over Neville having it, and she’s the one who convinces Ginny to help her steal it back. (Because if Tom was hurting Maeve, he might end up hurting Neville, and Ginny would love the idea of getting to be the hero that saves her idol from some soul-sucking diary. You can imagine the pre-adolescent daydreams the entire escapade fueled.)

Speaking of daydreams and romance, I love the idea of the entirety of the male-attracted population of Slytherin getting into a vicious fued over whether Lockhart is crush-worthy or not. Because, like him or not, the man is devious, and successful, and that’s got to be attractive to a lot of Slytherins. On the other hand, he wouldn’t know subtle if it jumped up and whacked him over the head with a brick. (I’m really torn as to what side of the equation Draco would fall on. On the one hand, he isn’t exactly subtle either, so there’s really good grounds for thinking he might be just as bad as Hermione about it all. On the other hand, I can’t help but feel that he’s much more likely to have a teacher-crush on Lupin, and obviously massively resent it and be a little brat about it just like he is about his crush on Harry. ...Although I suppose ‘why not both?’ does sort of apply here XD) Blaise is obviously very anti-Lockhart, and so is Daphne, Pansy is very pro-Lockhart, and so is Millicent. Harry, Tracey, and Theo just do not get what the fuss is all about, leave them out of it, please. That’s how Harry makes friends with Theo.

And then Hermione gets petrified. Only it’s not Penelope with her, it’s Tracey. Because they’ve been spending so much time together in the library researching Slytherin. (And also because Dean’s ‘just chuck out all the Slytherins’ speech pissed me right off, and I really wish JKR had actually put effort into debunking all the forms of prejudice in the books, not just the ones she set up to be distasteful. Not all Muggles are magic-hates, and not all Slytherins are Death Eaters.) And Tracey getting petrified would change a lot of the school’s attitude, because suddenly, no one is safe. The Slytherins aren’t All In On It, they’re just as much at risk as anybody else. No one knows where to look or where to point the finger.

And then there’s the whole thing with the spiders that I don’t even know where to start with. Obviously, Neville is going to get told by the Diary that Hagrid was the one to unleash the monster, so he would go talk to Hagrid, but... Not only is there the question of whether he would have stayed long enough to hear Hagrid’s warning without the Invisibility Cloak (which I still dunno if he has or not?), but... Would he really actually go looking for ‘answers’ in the Forbidden Forest? Which is where he was almost mauled by Voldemort once already. Ron certainly isn’t going to encourage him. If he does somehow go, how does he escape, given that maybe the car isn’t there? Argh. This whole thing becomes a complete mess with the possible changes of earlier and I have no idea what to do with it all. I just know that he does, somehow, need to be inspired to realise that Myrtle is the one the basilisk killed.

Or maybe he doesn’t? Is there some other way Neville could find the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets? Maybe Neville just... asks a snake? He could do that. There have to be some snakes at Hogwarts, and they must have heard the basilisk roaming about. Or, hey, maybe Luna helps? If Ginny was petrified, it might inspire her to investigate, in her own way, and she might find things others would miss. (Maybe she would just... go around asking all the ghosts if they know what happened fifty years ago.)

And that’s not getting into the whole issue of the adventure in the Chamber. Obviously, it’s Maeve that gets taken this time, so maybe it should be Harry that goes with Neville to the Chamber? Or maybe (if she’s not petrified) it should be Ginny? ...I feel I should mention that I don’t ship Ginny/Neville, and that’s not going to be end-game. She’s going to get over her crush and stay over it. And maybe actually getting to go on an adventure with the Boy Who Lived, getting to know how awful it is, how not-heroic it all it, how it’s just desperation and fear and muddling through as best you can, would help take the shine off her hero-worship and let her really start seeing Neville as a person, not a hero.

And then there’s also the problem of Lockhart. Do they take him along? Does Neville even think to go to him or does he just go on his own (or with Ron or Harry or Ginny or Luna or someone) because Someone Has To? I have no idea what to do with Lockhart, but given the curse something bad has to happen to him, right? And if the Flying Car thing didn’t happen, Ron’s wand isn’t broken, which means an obliviate wouldn’t backfire.

13) How does Neville find the Chamber of Secrets? 13a) If he goes to ask Hagrid about it, how would not having the Invisibility Cloak change things? 13b) If he does go into the Forbidden Forest following spiders, how the hell would they get out of it if they didn’t fly the car to Hogwarts? 13c) How involved in the process is Harry and/or Blaise, given Tracey got petrified? How involved is Luna, if Ginny got petrified? 14) Who goes with Neville to the Chamber of Secrets, if anyone? 14a) Does Lockhart go with them? 15) How does the curse get rid of Lockhart? Is it the same backfiring memory charm as canon? 15a) Does the basilisk kill and/or eat him? If so, how would that change the later story given he wouldn’t be able to reappear in book 5? (I don’t think it would change it very much? But my memory of book 5 is the fuzziest, and I can’t remember ^^”) 16) Does the basilisk have to die? Or can Neville somehow steal ‘control’ from Diary!Riddle and/or free the basilisk from his control? 16a) If the basilisk does die, should Neville and/or Maeve find baby basilisks and decide to raise them to replace the dead one?

No matter what happens, in the end, Neville kills the Diary, Maeve wakes up, and they meet her parents in Slughorn’s office. Lily and Sev are both relieved and furious, and when Lily finds out that her daughter was possibly possessed by Voldemort’s memory, she threatens to just go back to Italy. Lucius shows up, Neville realises what happened, frees Dobby, etc. The petrified students all wake up, Hagrid gets back from Azkaban, and probably Gryffindor wins the House Cup, regardless of who actually went down to the Chamber with Neville? Idk. If anyone can remember more details about exactly how the points stood in second year lemme know. So, a couple of bonus questions, because I’m a forgetful dumbass:

17) How would Slughorn being Potions Master affect all of this? Would he make much of a difference? Or would he just be bumbling about in the background, and have as much effect on the plot as Flitwick, or Sinistra? 17a) Who’s in the Slug Club? Who got recruited right away (like Neville, obviously), and who gets picked up in later years as they grow and mature and their skills come to light? 18) Who wins the House Cup?

Aaand on to book 3. Good god, what the hell am I even going to do with that, given, like, all of the major players just... aren’t, in this AU? I’ll think about that, and try to get a semi-coherent ramble full of yet more obnoxious questions written soon. ...Ish.

...Why do I do this to myself? XD

[cabbagiez]

“Extremely detailed character sheet template”

Character Chart 

Character’s full name: Donovan Keegan Soule (He no longer remembers this) Reason or meaning of name: Donovan means dark- which his hair (and eyes) are/once were, keegan means firey (which he decidedly is), and soule is, well, meant to represent his connection to death. Character’s nickname: Don, formally Project Siren Reason for nickname: Don is easier to say than Donovan- he likely adopted it after the children he’s raised began using it, and Project Siren is the name of the experiment he took part in unwillingly. Birth date: Unknown, some time in the 30s Physical appearance Age: In his late 80s How old does he/she appear: Around 21-22 Weight: Unknown- rather high Height: Unknown, at least 6′0 Body build: Bulky Shape of face: Rather narrow Eye color: Green, with black schelra Glasses or contacts: Sunglasses Skin tone: Porcelain white- formerly quite tan Distinguishing marks: Cracks that glow green and cover the majority of his skin, various scars, a summoning symbol in the middle of his chest covered by a tattoo of the night sky Predominant features: His height, muscles, and scars  Hair color: Black, with green streaks- they are not dyed, and do not fade Type of hair: thin, straight Hairstyle: Spiked up- either naturally or gelled Voice: Deep, with a hypnotic quality to it, somewhat like a siren’s Overall attractiveness: Fairly high Physical disabilities: None that he is aware of Usual fashion of dress: Casual, with a bit of a rebellious edge Favorite outfit: Ripped jeans, a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket, with sunglasses of course.  Jewelry or accessories: Earrings every so often, sometimes necklaces. He doesn’t have many of these  Personality Good personality traits: Sense of humor, comforting and understanding- generally quite nice as long as you are nice to him Bad personality traits: Quick to anger, often sarcastic when it’s not the right time, overreacts often, often doesn’t change his behavior unless told multiple times to do so Mood character is most often in: Happiness, or mild irritation Sense of humor: Dark and sarcastic, even in the worst times Character’s greatest joy in life: Spending time with his friends and “family,” leaving the house Character’s greatest fear: Being weak again, being unable to help if one of his friends is in mortal danger Why? Both of these happened in his life- the Project Siren experiments traumatized him deeply, and during that time one of the few people he knew that cared for him like a human died due to events out of his control- but both of them were aware of What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? It technically already happened- Him being hired by Becile Industries- and all of his memories of his past before then being completely wiped as he was forced into an experiment. Character is most at ease when: He is away from his workplace, and with friends Most ill at ease when: He is at his workplace, and is forced to confront his boss’s father Enraged when: His friends are put in danger- especially if by those he already hates Depressed or sad when: He is completely alone, or otherwise disconnected from others- along with when he is physically weak Priorities: His friends, his “family,” his boss, himself Life philosophy: It’s all going to hell anyway, why not have a bit of fun? If granted one wish, it would be: For all of his memories of his past to be returned. Why? Even if all of his family is gone- he wants to remember who he knew, before he worked for Becile Industries. He doesn’t want to feel like he is a lone entity Character’s soft spot: His friends, robots, and children Is this soft spot obvious to others? Definitely Greatest strength: His physical strength, and his voice Greatest vulnerability or weakness: He hates being called “weak,” and most magic can actively take him down easily Biggest regret: Not trying harder to stop Gary- even if it was out of his control. Minor regret: Not getting ice cream last week. He doesn’t regret all that much Biggest accomplishment: Recovering after all those experiments Minor accomplishment: Actually surviving growing wings without screaming. Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: When he somehow managed to get his head stuck in a beaker- no one knows how he did it. Why? It’s just plain weird. Character’s darkest secret: He has murdered several people- enough to make him wanted, had it not been covered up. Either against his will or by choice- he hasn’t told that part. Does anyone else know? Only Phobus, and Ignatius and Buster Becile Goals Drives and motivations: Survival, and his “family” and friends Immediate goals: Survive the next day Long term goals: Be a decent employee, help his friends make a better life How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Work as hard as he can, and try to be a better person How other characters will be affected: Hopefully for the better! Past Hometown: He doesn’t recall- but likely a town near San Diego Type of childhood: A good one, despite him growing up during the Great Depression. Pets: Any animals he found in the wilderness First memory: He doesn’t recall it anymore, but his first memory was of his mother singing to him, then laughing as he just covered her mouth suddenly Most important childhood memory: He doesn’t know- probably something with his family, but he has no recollection. Why: No reason, on account of the absence of a memory. Childhood hero: He doesn’t recall Dream job: A science position- which he technically got Education: Only the mandatory schooling- kindergarten to twelfth grade Religion: None Finances: Poor, to say the least Present Current location: San Diego, California Currently living with: His boss, and what few employees are left, his former boss, and his best friend Phobus Pets: None Religion: None Occupation: Becile Worker Finances: Fairly well off- his employer takes care of all his expenses Family Mother: He can’t remember Relationship with her: He hopes it was good- but his “disappearance” probably made it strained Father: He can’t remember Relationship with him: He hopes it was good as well, but something tells him it would have become strained even if he hadn’t “vanished” Siblings: He can’t remember Relationship with them: Once again, he hopes it was good Spouse: None Relationship with him/her: n/a Children: Only one, he doesn’t know their name Relationship with them: Estranged, considering he never knew them Other important family members: None Favorites Color: Green, ironically Least favorite color: He doesn’t have one Music: Anything that Ignatius doesn’t like. So mostly heavy metal Food: Anything that isn’t the regulation meals provided by Becile Industries Literature: Anything that aren’t the regulation reading materials provided by Becile Industries. Form of entertainment: Books, and movies, and the radio Expressions: somewhat outdated ones usually- he has a tendancy to say “oh geez” multiple times as well Mode of transportation: On foot, flying, or in a car Most prized possession: Anything given to him by Gary, and any remnant of his old life that he still has. Habits Hobbies: Reading, spending time on the internet, avoiding his work Plays a musical instrument? No Plays a sport? No How he/she would spend a rainy day: Reading, going out in it, spending time with his friends Spending habits: He usually spends faaar too much on his friends- otherwise they’re fairly alright Smokes: Only sometimes- he has mostly quit Drinks: Often, socially. Other drugs: None What does he/she do too much of? Avoiding work, avoiding his own needs to care for others What does he/she do too little of? Paying attention to his own needs, self-care Extremely skilled at: Science, engineering, getting out of tough situations Extremely unskilled at: Not getting hurt, cooking, keeping out of tough situations Nervous tics: Rubbing his neck, picking at his skin, running his hands through his hair Usual body posture: Stiff and straight, or periodically slumped over a desk Mannerisms: Rubbing at his skin, scratching his neck Peculiarities: Rocking back and fourth Traits Optimist or pessimist? Introvert or extrovert? Daredevil or cautious? Logical or emotional? Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Prefers working or relaxing? Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Animal lover? Yes Self-perception How he/she feels about himself/herself: He likes himself a lot- aside from his perceived “weakness” during the experiments One word the character would use to describe self: Strong One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: “I guess I’m strong. A man of character- Fabulously gay, and a good person all in all... Wait, how long’s a paragraph again?” What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? His bravery What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? How indecisive he can be What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? His strength What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? his skin How does the character think others perceive him/her: as a good person- hopefully, at least. What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: Some of his appearence, and what he thinks is his “weakness” Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: Good, until they prove themselves otherwise Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Not often Person character most hates: Ignatius Becile Best friend(s): Phobus, Asmah, and Zoe Love interest(s): Phobus, though it’s only a crush Person character goes to for advice: Phobus, and Asmah Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Asmah, Zoe, Buster and Vivian Becile Person character feels shy or awkward around: No one Person character openly admires: Phobus Person character secretly admires: Phobus Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Phobus After story starts: Phobus (still) and Zoe

[skytoddsblog]

Creative Problem Solving Methods Interviews

Sarah: Business Strategy at Adobe, Concert Photographer

1. Sarah generates ideas by looking at a lot of other artists for inspiration. She is mostly inspired when she sees work that’s a little more unconventional (whether that be using graphic design elements or bold colors), or work that evokes a deeper feeling (usually very cinematic photos that look like stills from a movie). Her main obstacle recently has been a lack of content because she hasn’t been able to shoot much concert photography since March of 2020. Another obstacle for her is lack of knowledge or ability - she’s had to self teach the entire way through with my photography, and recently I started to learn After Effects to create 3-D photos. Since this wasn't a skill that I previously had, I ended up watching a lot of YouTube tutorials to pick up basic skills. 

2. Once Sarah finds a few photos she’s inspired by after her shoot, she goes into Photoshop and edits each one individually. She’s not a huge fan of presets, because she thinks that each photo needs very specific and individualized treatment.  On top of the fact that she likes to add graphics to a lot of her images. Then, she’ll scroll through her own work and see what styles/types of photos have performed the best on socials in the past. She’ll use that as a point of reference when editing new photos. She has to be cognizant of engagement because in most cases, those photos are going to a publication that will repost them on Instagram. 

Sam: Social Media & SEO Management for a wellness startup 

1. Sam finds that he’s best able to generate ideas and find inspiration when he’s experiencing very little sensory input or just one or two main streams of sensory input and being present. He generally starts with playing music that fits the atmosphere of the objective he’s trying to reach as well. The main obstacle he faces when coming up with new ideas is analysis paralysis (thinking that an idea is too outlandish, too boring, or not unique). He typically overcomes this obstacle by making an effort to put himself in a headspace where he feels safe and confident internally. 

2. With most of his problem solving, Sam usually likes to start with a blank sheet of printer paper to organize information, thoughts, feelings, and ideas. He typically folds that piece of paper into 4 separate sections where he creates sections for objectives, processes, timelines, and miscellaneous. This folding method isn’t always the case for him though. Sometimes he’ll fold in half as well. It just depends on the problem presented. Starting off with a blank white sheet allows for almost any form of organization which is why it appeals to him.

 Jael: Founder of GT Goods, Content Creator

1. Jael generates ideas through asking himself questions such as how, when and where:

- How: Research adjacent/successful/new sources of relevant inspiration, who's killing it in this sector? Who's slept on? Who's failing? See what you like, what you don't like, what works, what doesn't. Think, “what is nobody doing?”

- When: When intentionally exposing himself to things he dreams about or aspires to achieve, during sunset cruises past nice houses by the beach, watching videos of cars he wants to drive, looking through product catalogues of goods he wants to provide. 

- Where: At home in his room browsing through online content, out in the world driving through neighborhoods he wants to live in, visiting stores that offer goods I'd like to design/produce, or local meetups/events around cars he wants to own.

Jael’s main obstacle is narrowing down on one design and limiting his involvement/invested-ness in his current work. He often overcomes this by reminding himself of the value of MVP (minimum viable product) concepts and fail-fast techniques to test for product success and market demand, and remembering that not everyone is going to notice the details he notices. 

2. Jael attempts to solve problems by using this method:

- Identify(ing) the problem at hand, isolating symptoms and possible scenarios.

- Research(ing) the problem and root cause, breaking it down into smaller parts, and understanding how and why it works. 

- Plan(ning) possible solutions, parts/information required to execute, mapping out goals, logistics, limitations, prepare plan A, B, & C. 

- Execut(ing) the plan. 

- Test(ing) the solution, gathering information acquired during execution, and evaluating success. 

- Monitor(ing) the solution for long term feasibility, reliability, sustainability. 

Main Takeaways:

Although I’ve never tried the folding method, my ideology probably resonates most with Sam’s problem solving techniques. Sam’s folding method allows him to break down the problem he’s attempting to solve in manageable chunks which is something I prioritize too, although I usually make a digital timeline which differs from his pen to paper method. I admired how one of Sarah’s techniques involved analyzing her old work to see “what didn’t work and what did” and apply those positive outcomes to her current work; this is something I don’t do nearly as often as I should. Similarly to Sarah, I almost always use Pinterest to gain inspiration for my design work or just to get my creativity flowing. Jael’s problem solving method reminded me of the design thinking process that I use when problem solving, but misses one of the most important steps I follow, which is empathizing. 

When reviewing each of their interviews, I thought their processes were all similar in the fact that they all focus on individual work. As someone that collaborates often with other designers and engineers, I sometimes forget the value of individual brainstorming and really checking in with myself before presenting ideas to others, which is something I can take away from these interviews. Jael’s process (identify, research, plan, test, execute, monitor) seemed to be more deliberate and calculated than Sarah’s process, as she more so relies on the various feelings evoked by different pieces of work as well as what people liked or disliked about her past work. On the other hand, Sam seems to utilize the environment around him in addition to his day-to-day feelings to generate ideas, then goes into organization-mode using his folding method to problem solve.