#though do be careful if you choose to use a treadmill

[good-advice-ganondorf]

mr ganondorf sir i want to start writing again but there are constant bees in my brain (autism+adhd) and i can't focus well, how do i teach myself to be more productive? 🥺

[sugarybisous]

how to be successful and study like elle woods ♡︎

“many people will tell you you can’t do something don’t let one of those people be you.”

BE CONFIDENT AND DONT UNDERMINE YOURSELF.

despite elle’s counselor trying to use her 4.0 gpa in fashion merchandising as her weakness and probably not taking her serious as a “intelligent” person at all, elle definitely used it as her strength and didn’t let that discourage her from pursuing harvard. it was a theme in the movie where people constantly misjudged elle based off of her appearance but she always shone bright regardless as she knew what she was capable of.

-drown negative opinions and ones that don’t serve you.

-highlight the things you’ve accomplished and the things you are good at.

-don’t be afraid to shine brightly as who you are.

-self validate yourself.

-be true to who you are not to who everyone else is.

-silence your self doubt.

PLAN ACCORDINGLY AND HOLD YOURSELF ACCOUNTABLE.

“if you fail to plan you plan to fail.”

elle started to learn about the lsats immediately after knowing she was going to apply for harvard. this prepared her for what was to come and she held herself accountable by studying instead of partying, not to mention studying long hours and doing practice tests, she put the work in to get the results she wanted.

-start planning by becoming more familiar about the things you need to learn.

-write everything out in a planner.

-make sacrifices temporarily to reach your long term goals.

HAVE A GOOD SUPPORT GROUP AND BE KIND TO EVERYONE. (including yourself)

elle’s friends were supportive of her while she studied for harvard even if they didn’t completely understand it. the people you choose to surround yourself are important because they have the ability to change your mindset on things. elle was a kind person to everyone and in return people wanted to do nice things for her back, like when she helped that guy get a date and he helped her get a book she couldn’t reach in the library.

-have friends who you can study with and friends that will cheer you on.

-show kindness to everyone you meet but stand up for yourself when necessary like what elle did.

STUDY IN DIFFERENT ENVIRONMENTS.

elle had different places where she studied, on the treadmill, outside while warner was playing football with his clasmates, while she was getting her hair done, with a friend that was helping her practice for the lsats, studying in a different environment is fun and can increase the chances of you focusing!

-study at a cafe.

-ask a friend if they want to have a study date.

-study somewhere comfortable outside.

-study in a new place in your house.

DO NOT SUPPRESS YOUR EMOTIONS.

a healthy thing that elle did was allowing herself to feel troubling emotions. when warner broke up with her she took the time she needed to cry and let it all out. this is a very healthy habit instead of suppressing everything inside for it to explode randomly later on.

-let yourself feel upsetting emotions and comfort yourself like your own best friend.

-journal your thoughts.

-mediate.

EXERCISE GIVES YOU ENDORPHINS AND ENDORPHINS MAKE PEOPLE HAPPY!

exercise!! even though elle was crunched on time and had to use majority of it studying she didn’t self neglect herself and took care of her body and mind by taking care of herself while she studied on the treadmill and at the salon! exercising is proven to help your emotions and to help you feel your best physically which is exactly what we need when we are studying too!

-create a schedule for when you can get some exercise in.

-choose an exercise that is right for you! ex: yoga, pilates, going on a run or walk, ballet, going to the gym, working out at home and etc!

MAKE LEARNING FUN!

elle was known for her signature pink everything and that included pink school supplies and cute supplies! everything doesn’t have to be dull and boring, buy supplies you need that you think is cute and that you like! buy different shaped note pads like elle’s heart shaped one!

-buy cute stationary! ex: pens, pencils, laptop covers, notebooks, highlighters, sticky notes, etc!

and there you have it! this was HIGHLY requested in my inbox, and @2pretty has a very very helpful post on how to study like elle woods too! <3

[financeprincess]

It is so inspiring hearing about your weight loss :) i was wondering if you had any particular weight loss tips you’d like to share? I went through a period of weight loss myself, but have lately gained back a lot of what I’ve lost and I’d like to know if there’s anything that helped you get back on the wagon. Love your blog btw!

Don’t be too hard on yourself, its rough out here especially in the US. it’s easy to accidentally slip up and gain 15 pounds just by eating a lil extra every day.

Some things that helped me:

Intermittent fasting, only a 13 hour window though. The 16:8 was too much for me and with women it can screw with your hormones if you’re not careful.

Drinking lots of water. Like a ton. I put those hydration multiplier electrolyte packets in my water as well.

Get good quality sleep. I got some Brooklinen sheets and they are 100% worth it. Definitely improved my sleep quality. I also have a really nice down duvet and an Egyptian cotton cover for it. I also have a silk eye mask and a silk pillowcase from Slip that I love. Sleep is extremely important.

Get 10k steps a day or at least just walk as much as you can. I’m sedentary a lot for school/work/etc. so I absolutely have to get out and walk and get moving. Even if you just aim for a mile or two a day it’ll greatly help.

If you don’t want to lift weights that’s okay. It’s not for everyone. I used to be super into powerlifting and got pretty muscular but it doesn’t excite me like it used to. I do a mix now of walking, jogging, pilates, rollerblading, cycling, kickboxing, swimming, yoga, ice skating, and weightlifting. That way I’m never bored and the variety allows me to choose what I want to do.

Consistency is key. Doing 4 workouts a week at a light/medium intensity is better than doing 1-2 a week of super high intensity and burning yourself out. Every little bit helps.

I do a full body stretch every day. This is super important. Our bodies get so stiff during the day. If you don’t stretch this can lead to injuries when you try to do other things.

I love the sauna (and hot yoga too). If you can find and afford a gym that has a sauna, I would highly recommend. Sometimes I will just go and walk on the treadmill for 30-45 minutes and watch YouTube videos and then sit in the sauna. It’s the best.

Make sure you’re not deficient in anything. Take a complete multivitamin and get blood work done. I was severely deficient in vitamin D and it was making me depressed. Once I took a supplement, got more sun and got my levels up it really helped my overall health.

Cut out grains, sugar, junk food, fried foods, etc. and just eat real foods. Anything with a long ingredient list usually isn’t a good idea. It’ll take a minute to get used to it but once you start eating almost exclusively vegetables, fruits, proteins, and healthy fats you won’t miss it. I have such a big sweet tooth sometimes I’ll have to eat like five servings of berries with a few tablespoons of honey just to satisfy it, but that’s better than ice cream or candy any day.

Don’t deprive or starve yourself. I eat as healthy as I can manage 80-90% of the time. But every once and a while I will eat a huge plate of pasta, gelato, tiramisu, croissants, those types of foods that I love. It’s not helpful to punish yourself and you gotta live a little.

I got a smart scale in my bathroom, the one I got is from FitIndex. It has an app that connects to your phone and it syncs to other health apps. it shows you body fat, muscle mass, water weight, everything. Honestly super triggering at first because I felt called out lol but now I step on it once a week just to make sure I’m on the right track.

You do not need a gym membership to workout. YouTube is the best. I love Yoga with Adrienne, MadFit, Move with Nicole, Charlie Follows, Vicky Justiz, and there’s a bunch of others. Find what you like and try to stick with it as much as you can.

Rest is super important. Don’t run yourself ragged. If you’re sore don’t force yourself to workout.

MyFitnessPal is super helpful. If you have a history of disordered eating this might not be for you but it’s good to be conscious of what you’re eating. Figure out what you need to lose fat/maintain/gain muscle and then track to see where you’re at and adjust accordingly.

Eat more protein. Protein, healthy fats, and fiber keep you full. You will be starving if you eat only salads. Fruit smoothies with protein, protein oats, salmon, yogurt, eggs, etc.

Get cute workout gear. It makes it more fun for me to workout with my pink towels, my pink hydroflask, my lululemon yoga mat, I have a baby blue jumprope and pink dumbbells and pastel colored resistance bands for at home workouts. A lot of my workout clothes are from lululemon, alo yoga, free people, and aerie. I have some of those blender bottles in cute colors for preworkout, protein powder, super greens powder, electrolyte mixes, etc. Some of this stuff is pricy but I’d rather be investing in my health than paying medical bills down the road so it’s 100% worth it to me.

The only way to see permanent change is to make it a lifestyle. Unfortunately you can’t just go back to eating unhealthy foods once you hit a certain goal. Those models who say they live exclusively off of pizza and pasta and cheeseburgers are lying through their teeth. It’s perfectly healthy to have days off where you indulge or don’t exercise but most of the time you’ll have to find ways to eat healthy and exercise and prioritize your health.

[hebuiltfive]

Just in case the last ask failed:

Sickness prompts:

snoozeville: [character] falls asleep somewhere that isn’t their bed. With Scott please

Thank you @janetm74! I hope this suffices!

Snoozeville (feat. Scott Tracy)

Scott was undoubtedly an early bird. He preferred sunrises over sunsets, and he found something refreshingly cleansing about early morning air. Whenever duty wasn’t calling him, Scott often found himself down in the gym, purpose-built on the island to cater to all their needs and to save the residents trips to the mainland every time they wanted to pump some iron. 

This morning was no different. 

Nor were the bags that he carried under his eyes, the dull throb of a headache just beginning to form or the feeling of limp muscles.

Perhaps burning the candle at both ends wasn’t the best idea these last few weeks. Rescue call after rescue call, a mountain of work for the business that kept everything afloat and then general insomnia on top of it all because God only knows why… Scott was tired. 

Of course, he could have slept through the morning if he really tried, but he had things to do, and a Scott who hadn’t managed to fit in a morning work-out was like a Virgil who had gone without coffee. So, yes, whilst he was beginning to feel sleepy now the birds had started their tweeting, Scott actually getting some sleep didn’t seem like his most favourite of options. Thus, the gym.

It was the aching, dull muscles that had Scott choosing the bench press over the treadmill once he’d limbered up as his first work-out of choice. The weights would help his body wake up, right? Somewhere in the depths of his mind he heard a voice, that sounded a lot like Gordon’s, telling him that his choice was a dumb one, but Scott chose not to listen. He was too tired to listen.

He loaded up the barbell, choosing weights that were just under his normal tolerance (because he wasn’t a complete idiot, give him some credit), and laid himself down on the bench. The lights of the gym were set to a soft glow, bright enough to light up the space but not too bright to blind him, though that had been considered as an option to help him wake up. 

Now, lying there, he was thankful he decided against that. Scott breathed deeply as a pain shot across his forehead. Perhaps he should have taken some painkillers before coming down here. Perhaps he shouldn’t have come down here at all. Ugh, whatever. He was too tired to care. Besides Scott was certain the aches would pass in a moment and then he could start his work-out… in a minute… he just wanted to close his eyes for a second first…

“Scott! Are you insane?”

To his credit, Scott did not jump up and hit his head on the barbell that was still cradled on the stand above him. He did, however, jolt awake.

Awake? Hold on…

“Actually, don’t answer that.” His brother continued, coming to to a stand beside the bench. Virgil hovered a scanner over him as Scott blinked his eyes into focus.

“… Virg…?”

“How many times have I told you not to use the gym unless you’ve had a proper rest before?”

Scott’s brain had a hard time catching up. Had he… fallen asleep? Impossible. Surely he hadn’t been that tired. “I was only resting my eyes for a few seconds.”

“Under the weights?”

“He’s been in here for over an hour.” The unmistakeable tone of EOS echoed through the hall from Virgil’s handheld monitor. “I told you he was acting recklessly again.”

“Hold on, you used EOS to spy on me?” Scott’s attempt to sound offended fell flat due only to his still sleepy head.

“Not spy…” Virgil quickly clarified, his eyes darting to the weights on the end of the bar in guilt. “She woke me up after seeing here and… This isn’t about me. Stop deflecting, Scott!”

Scott sighed, carefully sitting himself up despite his body’s protests to just stay there for a little longer. He didn’t dare chance a glance at his brother, who’s eyes Scott could already feel were staring him down.

“Bed. Now.”

“It’s seven in the morning, Virg…”

“I don’t care if it was midday.”

“Virg, I am fine.”

“These readouts don’t back up your theory. You need to sleep, Scott.”

Scott knew when to pick his battles, especially with medic-mode Virgil. Denying the evidence that was now being put before him — ouch, those are a lot of red areas — he knew that this was not a battle he would win. 

“Fine. I’ll… try and get some rest.”

But Scott didn’t move.

Virgil waited a moment. “Now, Scott.”

A sharp intake of breath and Scott was back. Had he almost just fallen asleep sitting up? Yikes. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I just.. need a minute.”

“Do I have to carry you?” Virgil lightly swatted at his shoulder. “Do not fall back to sleep. You’ll fall backwards and hit your head on the bar.”

“I thought you wanted me to sleep.”

“Scott.” Virgil pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly exasperated. “Do not start. Get your butt to bed and, for the love of God, please stay there until you’ve had a decent amount of sleep.”

[kitkatt0430]

2, 20, 22, 23 for Westallen?

2.) What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?

If it's Iris waking up this way, Barry would check in on whether she wants to be held first. If she does, he absolutely holds her and soothes her until the manic energy passes and she's calmed down. But sometimes when she gets that fight or flight feeling after a nightmare she's too fighty feeling - or too flighty feeling - and being hugged will just make her feel too confined and make the bad bad feeling worse.

So Barry helps her find some kind of outlet for her energy. I'd like to think Eddie taught Iris some boxing basics, like he did with Barry, and they've got a punching bag that maybe used to be Eddie's that Iris can work out fighty-feelings with. And a normal-person treadmill she can run on for the more flighty-feelings. I'd bet especially after having been the Flash herself for a bit, running's a pretty big outlet for her. And while she's doing one of those in the guest room/home gym, Barry's probably sitting up reading (or falling asleep in a comfy chair) so that Iris can look over and see she's not alone. And when she's ready to sit down and talk and get a hug, he's there waiting for her.

When it's Barry, though, he absolutely has to get that nervous, anxious energy out with running. He'll circle the block a few (dozen) times until he can calm down while Iris heads to the kitchen to make him something tasty to eat when he gets back, since running always eats up his energy and makes him hungry. As to whether it's actually tasty or not depends on what she's making, if she isn't so sleepy she accidentally skips a direction here or there, and she doesn't put the heat too high on the stove that things will burn on the outside and not be totally cooked on the inside. She's gotten very good with a waffle maker, though. It does even heat every time without her having to set anything and it beeps at her when the waffle is ready.

But no matter what Iris makes and how tasty it may or may not be, Barry comes home calmer to Iris having made something for him because she loves him and worries for him? It makes him feel so much better just seeing how much she wants to take care of him.

20.) Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

You and Me by Lifehouse

It's a really sweet love song and I can see both their feelings echoed by different parts of the lyrics.

22.) What reminds each of their partner?

I think Iris watches Star Trek and/or Star Wars when she misses Barry. Or Back to the Future. Basically, nerdy sci-fi stuff she knows he loves. But she enjoys needling him too much with incorrectly identifying things from those so she'll never admit it.

So she watched a lot of sci-fi while Barry was away for college. However, when things got really bad for Iris when Barry was trapped in the Speed Force between S3 and S4, Iris watched Barry's musical collection and remembered all the times they watched those together.

When Barry misses Iris, he reads (and re-reads) books he knows are her favorites at the time. It's the only reason he's read Twilight. Sometimes one must suffer for love and if reading Twilight isn't deliberate suffering, I don't know what is. (He did draw the line at the sequels though.) But he's also read a whole bunch of other books. They ended up basically having their own little book club over email/text/phone calls while he was in college. Once she's a journalist, though, he takes to re-reading her old blog posts and articles. He hears them in her voice in his thoughts and it makes him feel closer to her when she's away.

23.) Who's more likely to convince the other to stay in bed come morning?

Barry is always trying to 'just a few more minutes' extra morning cuddles from Iris. He's mister time blindness, perpetually late, ADHD disaster, so he's not paying attention to the clock. He just wants more time holding Iris or being held by Iris.

Iris is much better at staying aware of the time, but sometimes she just can't resist... and gets 'just a few more minutes'-ed into being a little late for whatever her first thing to do that morning was. It's worth it every time.

[consanguinitatum]

DT talk throwback: my interview w/David Blair, director of Takin' Over The Asylum

Over half a decade ago now I was a writer for David Tennant News/DT Forum, one of the bigger unofficial fan sites of DT's at the time (now sadly defunct). During my time there, I got the chance in Jan 2016 to interview David Blair - most notably the director of Takin' Over The Asylum, though he worked with DT in three other shows - about those projects, and what he remembered about David. I didn't want this interview to sink into the depths of the Wayback Machine and I thought y'all might enjoy reading it, so here is that interview in its entirety:

David Blair, Director / Front Cover of BBC DVD for Takin' Over The Asylum (UK)

Hello Mr. Blair! From 1992-1996 you worked with David Tennant on four separate television shows:  Strathblair in 1992, The Brown Man in 1993, Takin' Over The Asylum in 1994 and A Mug's Game in 1996.   Were you at all involved in the casting process for Strathblair, the first project you worked with David on... If so what did you see in the young actor that won him the role?  And how did that translate into choosing him as Campbell Bain?

I was a Producer at the BBC before I started directing. David was a student at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music & Drama in Glasgow. He asked if he could meet me just to talk through procedure for TV, interviews, etc., as the college appeared more interested in theatre than camera. Indeed, frowned on the latter! He’d be about 18 then. I certainly knew from the outset that he ‘had something,’ and I gave him a few minor opportunities as soon as I embarked on my directing career. To be clear, I only work with actors I want and believe in – still do. Some might say my own career has been stifled by this obduracy but I don’t care. My need of working with great actors is paramount and David’s a shining example of what makes it all worthwhile. I commissioned Takin’ Over The Asylum for the BBC and worked closely with the writer throughout the creative process. I knew as soon as I read the screenplay, David was going to be perfect for Campbell. But I’m not a fascist about this kind of decision-making, so I mentioned to the writer and Casting Director I had a boy ‘in mind’ for the role. I didn’t oversell; I knew he would make it work for himself. There may have been some minor scepticism at first, but when he did his audition, he blew them away.

David's audition tape for Takin' Over The Asylum

Many of David's fans have seen Takin' Over The Asylum and are well-versed with it. Can you talk more about Strathblair, The Brown Man and A Mug's Game, and David's roles in each?  Little is known about the roles he played in those productions. Can you give us any insight into the stories behind all three of the projects themselves, and what was it about David in those years that made you want to cast him in all of them?

In truth, Strathblair and The Brown Man were merely cogs in my directing wheel. They weren’t aesthetically of great merit but gave me a few credits to kick-start my career. What I needed was a ‘signature piece’ and that came along with Takin’ Over The Asylum. In many ways, I regard that as the start of my directing career. In those days, without a high-profile production on your CV, you would more than likely be destined for a treadmill of soaps and ‘continuing drama’. Before Asylum I was picking up scraps; after it, I was being asked what I wanted to do. Thus A Mug’s Game became my second collaboration with Donna Franceschild, who’d written Asylum. Ken Stott, Katy Murphy and others from Asylum were already on board - and really? We just wanted David to ‘be in it’. It wasn’t a huge role but he kindly agreed to come in and do it for us. Played a music student (at the Scottish Academy, as it happens), as I recall but, again, hugely professional and accomplished. In one scene, he had to throw up over the railway tracks at Partick train station in Glasgow.... ah, an enduring memory.....

Did David do anything on set of any of the productions he worked on with you that totally took you by surprise or that was unexpected?  What did he do?

I think in those days, more than anything, it was important to keep in mind just how young he was. This boy of 21, was commanding the space, displaying an extraordinary ability to create laughter and tears; sometimes both at the same time! He had natural charm and wit and that, combined with this wonderfully spontaneous joie de vivre, made him a joy to be around both on the set and off.

What do you feel David's most unique/valuable attributes as an actor are?  What do you think separates him from his peers as he has matured into the career he has today?

When I look at him now I still largely see the same lad I met all those years ago. Still bursting with enthusiasm and an absolute desire to come out on top – which he’s done consistently. He’s retained his appetite, clearly, and devoured a huge range of roles – never seeking a ‘comfort zone’ in the process. It’s also struck me that he’s never attempted to be somebody he’s not and that truth, integrity, diligence – some might say, ‘Scottishness’ (!) – defines the man we see today.

David has said he considers Takin' Over The Asylum a career-defining project for him. What is your reaction so many years down the line to that comment?

I’ve always been rather humbled by David’s regard for myself and Takin’ Over The Asylum. I genuinely never felt I did anything out of the ordinary. I picked the best man for the job which, God knows, he underlined in spades once he played the role. He gave me as much as I gave him. Of course, there are occasions in my own career where I look back at defining moments and say “if it hadn’t been for so-and-so”.... but, I guess, the reason why we can reflect in that way, is because we didn’t let anybody down. David didn’t – and I hope I didn’t.   Looking back at Takin' Over The Asylum all these years later, do you feel it still holds up as well as it did?  In retrospect do you feel it helped shed as much needed light on the mental health industry as you'd hoped?

Funnily enough, somebody called me the other day to say he’d sat down and watched all six episodes and couldn’t believe how well it’s stood the test of time. I think I agree. I suppose because it’s a subject matter nobody would touch with a bargepole these days – that’s keeps it fresh somehow. All the scripts were vetted by the Association For Mental Health before we signed off on them. The writer had had mental health issues and wanted it to be authentic and in no way derisory. In fact, I remember many of the extras I cast all had had mental issues – one in particular having been institutionalised for 37 years!

I'd like to explore your decision to cast institutionalized patients as extras in Takin' Over The Asylum in a bit more detail. Was this related to filming the series at Gartloch Hospital, and if not, how was the idea first presented and eventually implemented?  Was this something you and Donna discussed as part of your intention to make the show as sensitive to the subject matter and as authentic as you could?  And did you run into any problems with compensating the extras, or any other issues relating to their Sectioned status?

It was simply an idea I had not just to add authenticity, but to have these guys make a worthwhile contribution to the film – and also make them feel good about it, if you like. I wanted to dispel the notion that all mentally ill people were screaming banshees – the story alludes to this anyway – by whose definition are we mad? I also thought it would help the non-mad actors (if there is such a thing!!!) to be surrounded by the ‘real’ rather than the ‘made up’ and thereby enrich their own performances.

Speaking of Gartloch Hospital, how did you choose that particular hospital for the filming location?

Gartloch was one of several mental hospitals around Glasgow being run down at the time, as part of the government’s controversial ‘care in the community’ programme. In other words, ‘we don’t want to pay to look after them any more, so you do it’. Of all the ones I looked at, Gartloch – not least with its huge tower – seemed to provide the best ambience; most suitable for the story and visually rewarding also.

Exploratory views of the interior and exterior of (now abandoned) Gartloch Hospital

As you mentioned, you do certainly seem to gravitate towards actors and writers that inspire you. Years ago you spotted a certain something in David -- so if given an opportunity, would you be willing to work with David again and if you could choose your own ideal role for him, what would that role entail?

Nothing would give me more pleasure than finding a project that both David and I could work on. David, creatively, is a bit of chameleon, so I don’t think there’s an ‘ideal role’ for him as such. A brilliant piece of writing and a character that takes him a place he hasn’t been before would be the simple remit.

Over the years many fans of Takin' Over The Asylum have expressed their desire to know what happened to Campbell and Eddie after we left them. If you were to continue their story, where do you think Campbell and Eddie would be today?

My hunch is that Campbell would have gone on to be a success in the music industry and Eddie would have tumbled into an even darker place, fueled by alcohol and self-doubt. I’ve often imagined Campbell inadvertently bumping into Eddie while he was sleeping in a cardboard box and Campbell doing for Eddie what Eddie had done for Nana in the very first episode.

Lore is - from Donna amongst others -- that you asked her to take a minor character from a play she'd written and make a drama around him. Of course that character is Ready Eddie McKenna. Could you tell us what the name of that play was?  And what was there about Eddie in the framework of that play that made you see him as the kind of character that could carry an entire series - and that Donna was the woman to write it?

With regard to the question below, it’s strange how little fateful moments define what we are and what we do. In my early days as a Producer, I commissioned Donna to write one of four monologues I was overseeing – I didn’t direct it, as it happens, but it was a sterling piece performed by Katy Murphy. The BBC – not myself – then commissioned Donna to adapt a stage play she’d written called And The Cow Jumped Over The Moon to fit a play strand we were doing at the time.

On the day of the studio, the Producer overseeing the project, was taken ill and they asked me to fill in for her ‘in the gallery’. (This was an old TV play where you worked in a rehearsal room for, say, three weeks then shot the whole thing – multi-camera – in a matter of days). Of course, as a result, I became familiar with the material and was indeed taken by this minor character – Eddie – who was a hospital radio DJ. After that, I asked Donna if she felt there might be mileage in creating a serial based around this character. I’d love to go into great and meaningful depth about why I thought that but, in truth, it was just a hunch – although it was one relative to how Donna was writing at that time; I believed she could deliver something unique with wide appeal. She hadn’t done any original TV work at that time (apart from the monologue) and had worries.

It took her some time to finally come up with a first draft – the breakthrough, she told me, came when she switched from just a hospital to a mental hospital. After that, we worked the episodes one at a time getting precisely where we wanted to be on one, before moving on to the next. Not an option that’s often available these days. During this process both Donna and I were supported hugely by the then Head of The Department, Bill Bryden. And that support manifested most clearly in simply leaving us to our own devices. No script executives, story editors or any other distractions. The work we ended up with had the footprint of nobody but ourselves.

And that's that! I hope you all enjoyed this unique insight into Takin' Over The Asylum and DT's work with David Blair.

[nnato]

Not me being a little bastard and asking another request but since you keep doing those little pieces of art may i request something with norman/arthur (look at me not asking mitchtonio) in bodyguard au? 👀 you can choose tbe prompt. Please??

Anything for you, my beloved Sofia 😌✨

Prompt: “Find someone else to annoy.”

Norman loves to go to the gym in the middle of the night. No one else is usually there, the other guards either asleep or on duty. It is one of the rare times where he can be undisturbed and go about his routine in peace.

Norman moves from the treadmill to the bench press after his warm up, spreading out his towel before he gets his weights, stacking them up on the press. The sounds of his work out playlist drown out the world around him, a rare luxury he usually can’t afford. But he’s safe here for now. At least from people with bad intentions.

What he didn’t take into account is the one person who will always find a way to abuse his nerves and his patience.

Halfway through the second set of his exercise, Norman notices movement from the corner of his eyes. But the person moves too clumsily to be a threat, so he ignores it. That is until a head plops up into his vision, a bright smile lighting up the whole face of Arthur. Norman can see his lips move but he doesn’t hear a single word due to the music. He’s also not willing to break his set just because the little shit decided to come by.

But Arthur either doesn’t care or doesn’t notice that Norman can’t hear him. He keeps talking, bend over Norman and the bench press so he can’t escape him visually at least. One deep breath tells Norman enough about the state he is in though to not wonder anymore. Arthur smells like alcohol and cigarettes and sweat, the usual mix after a night at the club. Just that he wasn’t supposed to go out tonight.

Norman puts the barbell back into the safety holder and sits up, taking off his headphones.

“… and then they told me they would escort me home, like can you believe? I was so close to the best night of my life and they just ruined it!” Norman hears the end of Arthur’s story and it’s all he needs to put the pieces together.

“So just because your bodyguards did their job and picked you up from one of the clubs you’re not supposed to go to, you decided to come here instead of going to bed like you should?” Norman says, turning so he could look at Arthur. “Sorry, your Highness, but my sympathy for your situation is pretty limited.”

Arthur pouts at that, flopping down on the trainings device closest to him.

“I’ve had my night end in the worst way and now you’re being mean to me too.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic. Excuse me but I have a trainings session to do.” Norman is about to put his headphones back on but Arthur is surprisingly fast for his drunken state, trying to snatch them out of his hands. But Norman would be a bad bodyguard if he would let a drunken prince overpower him. He grabs Arthur by the wrist, glaring warningly at the Prince.

“Why don’t you find someone else to annoy, your Highness?” he asks but he can see the way Arthur’s eyes darken, can feel his pulse quicken underneath his fingers.

“Oh but you know you’re my favourite person to annoy.” Arthur smiles at him wickedly and moves into Norman’s space. Norman tries to retreat but he only comes so far until his back the barbell. Arthur uses it to his advantage, climbing onto Norman’s lap.

“Your Highness-��

“Oh c’mon Norman, drop the titles, will you? I think we’re way past that by now,” Arthur interrupts him, wrapping one arm around Norman’s neck since the other still has his wrist in a tight grip. Not that it would stop him.

Norman stares up at him, aiming for an unimpressed expression but Arthur can see right through the facade. He’s been watching him for long enough by now to know what is going on behind the mask of professionalism. Most of the time at least.

“And I think you’re way past your bed time,” Norman says but it doesn’t have the expected effect.

“Take me to bed then. Just to make sure I don’t wander off again.” And fuck, Norman knows he shouldn’t, that it would be better to call one of the others to take care of Arthur. He’s already a menace when sober but a drunk prince? Better not to underestimate. Norman learned that the hard way already. Why is it that he still can’t stay away from Arthur though?

“If I bring you back to your room, will you leave me alone for the night then?”

Arthur only grins at him and Norman sighs in defeat. He knows he will regret this later but does he even have a choice?

Getting Arthur off his lap with the promise of escorting him to his room isn’t hard, the other pulling him off the bench and out of the gym. Norman doesn’t even get the chance to take his things with him, following Arthur along the corridors of the palace that seem deserted during the night. They arrive at Arthur’s room without passing anyone on their way, and Norman wants to stop outside the door. He only promised to bring him here, nothing more. But one look from those dark eyes, a gentle tug on his hand, and the memory of what happened the last time Norman brought Arthur home in the middle of the night are enough to make his resistance falter.

The whispered “No one has to know” clings in his ears as he follows Arthur inside, closing the door behind them.

[on AO3]

[saccharinecoffee]

Hey, just a question I've been wondering for a while, I'm currently trying to start working out (depression and stuff) and wanted to know if you ever went to a gym cuz I need some advice please, is it better for beginners to start going to the gym 2 or 3 Days a week when they're just starting? I was just struggling with deciding sorry for being annoying

Hi anon!! Don't worry you're not annoying, I'll do my best to help! :)

Just a quick disclaimer though, I am not a personal trainer or professional in the field, just someone who grew up with a very fitness-oriented family and am currently being followed by a personal trainer as well.

As for the frequency of the workouts, it depends on your energy levels. Three times a week for starters is great, then after you get used to it (after two weeks or a month, depending on your comfort) you can start upping it to 4 days a week, then 5.

Now, keep in mind that workouts don't have to be really long. At the moment I do 30 min workouts because I'm still a bit unfit at the moment (recovering from long-term illness will do that to you LOL) but a lot of people regardless of health concerns can do it as well. Much like the frequency, once you get the hang of it you can incorporate more exercises per day and extend your workout time from 30 to 45 minutes, for example.

The exercises you choose depend on your health goals. If you wanna lose weight, then a focus on aerobics/cardio can be a good way to go. I've been told if you're a little sleepy a quick cardio session can help boost your energy. This could include going on runs, using a treadmill, elliptical machine, zumba or dance classes, biking, etc.

If you wanna tone up and/or become strong then a good mix of muscle-developing exercises can really help. I feel like these are super important even if you don't care about the aesthetics, because the strength it gives you is priceless. You feel like you can walk more, move more, carry more things, use stairs easily, etc. You just become so much less tired and less sore. It's awesome.

As for the types of exercises, that really depends on whether or not you're gonna go to the gym or try your hand at home workouts. Regardless of the two, you can google for exercises at home (or search on youtube) and at the gym you could always ask them to help you with a workout plan. Where I live almost all gyms make workouts for their members for free, but idk about other countries 😔

Now, this may not be directly related to what you asked, but I gotta stress that a healthy diet is fundamental to your goals and I don't mean that just for the aesthetics of it. Eating well can genuinely change how you feel, and it can give you so much energy. And I'm not talking calories, I'm talking the quality of the food. No processed food, fried food, junk food, all that nasty stuff. I could suggest googling, but most "healthy" meal plans people suggest are disgusting and bland and kinda bordering on crimes against humanity LOOL if this is something that interests you just ask for more and I can give examples and recipes and stuff.

Exercise isn't the end-all-be-all, but it really can help with you feeling a bit brighter, a bit more capable, a bit stronger or even a bit more attractive. The self-satisfaction of being able to lift more and more, to run farther and farther, that shit is such an ego-boost. It feels really good and it motivates you to keep going. And of course, if you build it into your life (try to work out at around the same time every time) it becomes a habit and that in of itself helps with internal regulation. You even sorta start missing it if you have to miss a session. Habits and predictability in your daily schedule are really helpful when it comes to mental illness. So while exercise isn't a miracle cure, it can really really help, especially when you add good eating habits and a good sleeping schedule into the mix!

I hope this was all the help you needed but if you have extra questions just ask!

[xskyll]

This won't work for everyone, but this is what I do.

Concerning food, I once cooked a bunch of meals one weekend and froze them. Now every weekend I cook just one thing (that makes at least 4 servings) and freeze it to replenish the stock. This will still run out faster than you can cook, so every other day I eat a salad. I like routine, so it's the same salad: romaine lettuce, olive oil, shredded parmesan, croutons, and a hardboiled egg. Over the weekend, I hardboil all the eggs I'll need for the week. Cooking daily makes me cry, literally, but this method of prep works really well for me. No more tears!

Over the weekend, I also prep cold green tea. I make 64oz of green tea and stick it in the fridge. I drink one 16 oz glass while doing strength training; for cardio, I only drink water. Green tea has caffeine, so it helps revitalize me. Idk if this matters, but I don't drink coffee. 16oz of oolong tea in the morning, and then 16oz of green tea while working out. That's it.

For working out, after my eight hour shift, I walk my dog. When I'm done, I make a protein shake with protein powder and unsweetened soy milk. I don't blend it (ain't got time!), I just stir it with a fork. It's very lumpy, but that doesn't bother me. Be careful with protein shakes though. Some are very high in sugar or calories. I only use half the recommended powder from mine, and it's plenty of protein for me. Without this shake, I'd probably collapse. Between it and the tea though, I have the energy I need.

Next, I couple working out with my interests. If lifting weights, it's recommended you wait approx 90 seconds between sets (or so I've heard). I have Docs on my phone; I set a 90 sec timer and work on my WIP until it goes off. This might sound dumb to some people, but Neil Gaiman said he wrote Coraline at 50 words a day and that's a quote I live by. "The time will pass anyways," as we say here on Tumblr. If I don't have a WIP, I read manga. I listen to kpop and jpop while lifting. It doesn't distract me from reading or writing because I don't understand the majority of the lyrics. When on the treadmill, I often walk on an incline rather than run. I put the incline as high as it'll go, then choose a pace that won't make me miserable (usually between 2-2.5), and I read a book while I walk. I listen to piano or orchestra while I do this. Again, some might say this is dumb, but I hate cardio and this still builds up a sweat. I'm not trying to break records here, just keep in shape.

I always take at least two rest days a week (usually Wednesday and Saturday). I usually do 4 days of strength training and 1 day just cardio. Because I hate cardio, I usually do that on Sunday, when I have more energy. On strength training days, I do four activities, either three upper bodies and one ab or three lower bodies and one ab. Some of these are categorized loosely because they hit upper and lower (deadlifts, for instance).

And that's about it. After working out, I shower, eat dinner, then veg out on the couch. I go to bed early enough to get a minimum of seven hours sleep.

Some things worth noting:

Weights are expensive af. It took years of Black Friday sales to get the equipment I have now. When I first started, all I had was a yoga mat and a set of 10lb dumbbells I got used off eBay for cheap. I never signed up at a gym and likely never will. It's just not for me.

My work commute is admittedly very short. If it were longer, Idk if I'd have time to work out as much as I do.

Everyone has different lifestyles and circumstances. It took me years of having meltdowns to figure out what worked for me, and what works for me likely won't work for others. So I would say the important thing is to try new routines. It's fine to cry when it doesn't work, but make sure you try something different after you pick yourself up. Figuring out a routine that worked for me has made my life better than I thought possible. I used to be stressed all the time, and I hated myself. Now I can't remember the last time I broke down from stress. Sometimes I still get down on myself, but it's harder to do that when I'm reading 20+ books a year instead of 1 or 2 and writing over 100k a year instead of nothing.

how the hell do people work full time AND work out. and also eat. i feel like a dvd player

[the-single-element]

Good morning.

We've been going back to basics lately - to the essentials of Jesus's message - following Jesus's own refocusing on those essentials in the latter part of Mark's good news.

Today's readings focus on two of the most fundamental practical essentials of that message: principles that are immediately actionable, and that, especially in this day and age, people need to hear.

The first is this: trying to judge whether a behavior is good or bad based on whether it's coming from someone in your ingroup, is a strategy that will lead you astray.

We have a tendency to ask people for their credentials before we'll listen to them. A tendency to want proof that someone got their conclusions from the right place. Given the frequency with which people in this world try to trick each other… well, by this world's logic, a tendency to check whether someone's "on your side" before you listen to them almost makes sense.

But the glimpses we've seen of the Kingdom imply that this line of reasoning is backwards.

You could say that a tree is known by its fruits. You could rhetorically ask whether Satan would cast out Satan.

You could also point to the many examples, this year, of devout followers of Jesus who nonetheless got sincere, yet completely wrong, ideas in their heads about what he wanted them to do.

But either way, the point is this: if we see someone we distrust doing God's work, and we see it working, then it is our natural suspicion of them that must decrease, not our approval of the work they're doing. The Kingdom is not a walled garden; the wall has been broken down. God doesn't ration out its fruits by some gauge of worthiness, nor reserve its graces for some ingroup; it's too big for that anymore. So why should we? If the wrong person has the right idea, shouldn't we listen to it anyway, since it is, in fact, the right idea? If the wrong person does the right thing, does it somehow become the wrong thing just by association? Such logic is as natural as breathing, and as silently deadly as breathing carbon monoxide, because we don't know who's "the wrong person", and sometimes the person we think is outgroup is telling us exactly what we need to hear.

And the second is like it: a sense that to live in luxury, far from being a blessing, is perilous to us. If we believe we can touch another world by being willing to dig down deep and give more than we thought we had, the dark shadow of that is that to be always comfortable, to get too used to comfort, to set our hedonic treadmills as high as we can push them, is to dull our ability to react to those moments. By trapping ourselves at a "standard of living" that we don't really need, we limit the flexibility we might otherwise have to respond to the needs of others and practice "being driven to action by our care", which is the kind of love that alone can save us. What's worse - as James reminds us - to become accustomed to wealth, to be dependent on it, is to make yourself dependent on what's giving you that wealth, which may turn out to not be compatible with love.

And these are intertwined. In our world, when you stop thinking in terms of ingroup and outgroup, what's the most common alternate credential that people try to present? It's the credential of "skin in the game", or of "I've built a fortune on this topic, which proves me the expert". It's the argument that money somehow chooses - judges - attaches itself to the worthy and wise, even though it's just as easy to make money by being clueless but ruthless.

And when you're trying to rationalize your wealth as just, the easiest way to write off the damage that collecting it might have done, is to imagine them in an outgroup, somehow less worthy or deserving. Like the religious functionaries who devour widows' houses, like the kingdoms of Jesus's time which enslaved ethnic minorities to build their monuments. Or, in a world like today's, where to be poor is itself an outgroup, entangled with other outgroups, and seen as unworthy of living in dignity by way of one excuse or another.

Jesus, today, says: if we're to survive, we've got to get past all that. Be less concerned with credentials; by their fruits you shall know them. Be more concerned with the moral context of your own luxuries, your own indulgences. To have the love that the Kingdom is built upon, the love that drives you to action, requires, sometimes, that we be willing to act on that love by giving up what conflicts with it.

Have you been hearing about boycotts, lately? Picket lines echoing with "the cries of the harvesters"? There's more than one reason that Catholics historically had so many fast days - more than one reason that we still observe Lenten abstinence. But one of those reasons has always been to ready us for these moments when we must either cut off a dear indulgence, or injure our capacity to love. And one of the wonders of the Kingdom is that it can spread its seeds where you least expect, even to the outermost of who we would imagine to be the outgroup, if only they have a chance to see it in action and realize what they've seen.

As we have learned before: we choose which world we live in, which master we shall serve.

So let's take this opportunity, as the year wanes and the Second Coming approaches, to examine our own lives. To cultivate them, becoming more ready, more able to take the opportunities to love that we get, even if we have to give something up. Let's become more open to the stirrings of the Holy Spirit in our hearts, so that we too may be able to bear the fruits that God gave to Moses's contemporaries, or to Jesus's. Because if we do, then that might just be what saves us.

[handelplayssims]

It is 6AM! It is evidently the holiday of TV Season Premire, a holiday only teens care about! Anyway, I’m actually around to do some gardening around the house! The gardening of plasma fruit and the other strange plants that work for vampiric drinks. I tend to sell the wolfsbane and the mosqito trap though. Only the plasma fruit do I really need. Annnd we got work with Omar alongside the kids going to school. Been an age.

Okay here’s a thing that’s been bugging me. Omar was going to work in his casual outfit. I tried to get him to modify his career outfit but he was still in his everyday one. I think it’s a vampire thing. So now we’re just going to switch one of his everyday outfits into a doctor one. ...our doctor thing wants us to run a treadmill test and we can’t do that on children. All of our patients are children! And I didn’t get the diagnosis right on the kid. It was a 50/50 shot since all I saw was the fever. House call popped up so at least I can do that to make the day better. And maybe get adults waiting in line when I come back.

...all of the house patients are not sims of this household. Ha. All three got examined and medicine and then it’s back to the hospital. Still nothing but kids back there. Alas. At least we got the kid treated for her illness. There we go! We got a lady with an illness. ...and she despises Omar. FUN. Since it’s near the end of his workday, we’ll just run some tests before heading off.

We return home and both Tamarra and Harrison are off at their other jobs. Fun! Oh and Roxana is thirsty. Let’s mix up a plasma jane for her then. Let’s see. Selena wants to become enemies with her father Omar. Glorious! Well, I was just going to have her shout forbidden words and then discipline her and then the Sims decided to be even more mean to each other. Great. Wonderful. And trying to teach manners didn’t work. Ah what fun. Welp, time to see if being mean does raise social and yep! It does. Anyway, now Selene is in time out and Omar is just going to do a punch downstairs. Boxing thing set up after all.

Ha! Roxana wants to have a child but alas, she is vampire. Which I mean, she could, there’s nothing to say vampires in the Sims 4 can’t have children, I just find it weird that she can in the first place. She did have Emile and Selena but at this point, I made her ‘infertile’ by making her not be able to have children in the sexuality settings. You gotta have some drawbacks to being creatures of the night!

...WOW. Roxana’s second whim is to be mean to a child, as apart of her childish trait. WELL NOW. I’m going to put her into a playful mood and then impishly pester Selena. That seems about right. She jokes but jokes in a way that actually hurts her kids feelings. Hmm. She got disciplined again for being mean...I could have her apologize but she likely thinks her parents are too weird with their strange hissing. So another insult! And we’re up to level 5 social! Now let’s let Roxana put her to bed. Oh and Omar and Emile also watched tv alongside them. Just weren’t apart of the conversation.

Let’s see. Oh geez. We’re having a lot of vampires pop on by our doorstep. THEY KNOW. But hey, it’s not as if Roxana and the rest of the family wouldn’t mind. Time to say hello and befriend these other vampires! Annnd Tamara is now a vampire. Fun! Once we’re done with this day, we’ll move her out elsewhere. Honestly, I would stick her in Del Sol Valley, if it weren’t for the fact that A) vampire, and B) it’s a rather extremely sunny area.

Anyway, I did my usual thing of pulling up outfits from the main sim into the normal sim and turning them black! Very simple. I don’t really use dark mode much anyway. Now let’s see...I don’t much like getting abilities until we have a good selection of weaknesses to choose from but at least the first tier is free. Let’s pick up detect personality and occult disciple to start with. Her first whim is to...become enemies with Jeb. Could do but we have a vampire gathering going on! I’ll at least set up Roxana to try to teach Tamara the basics of vampirism.

Right. One of the things for Omar to do is to go into full parent mode. So I’m gonna cheat the system and have Harrison shout forbidden words and then discipline him and then cheat that until he gets to go into full parenting mode. There we go! And now his need decay will slow down a lot for 2 hours. And considering he’s on the cusp of thirsty, that’ll help. Let’s see. Last thing is to have a child with three positive character value traits. I hope Harrison will count for this. Anyway, he’s ageing up this time so normally, I would rotate off of that aspiration but I might as well keep it on. Besides which, he still needs that empathy up! Let’s see...you know, we can still volunteer, even at this time. Let’s get that empathy up!

And with Emille, the always sleeping, finally waking up, and Roxana training her new protege, we head towards-

Neighborhood Watch!

Forgotten Hollow: The Goode household moved out.

And let’s get Tamara into a new home! Until she can meet the money threshold for Del Sol Valley, she’s gonna stick in San Myshuno. In the last low-cost apartment available. Which is not a good apartment at all to linger in so GOOD LUCK!

[imfullofworms]

Hate

2,200 words, ~8 mins

I remember, a long time ago admittedly, being obsessed with toy soldiers – the poorly moulded variety that you could pick up in any self-respecting bargain store. As I was always in Nana Kat’s house (owing to having two parents in full-time work), it was her that regularly took me to Ballindee’s forever-dilapidated-looking one; aptly titled The Bargain Store.

Having perused the many, many, many oddly stocked shelves along its choking, musty aisles we’d leave some time later with a bag of green ones and a bag of grey ones. Then, once home, I’d race to our shed and begin reenacting the same imaginary battle over and over; the greens trapped inside their fortress, surrounded on all sides by the greys who were joined by kitchen-roll cannons, tanks constructed from discarded firewood, bits of broken Barbies and the recycled corpses of their melted comrades (whom I had previously executed by grinding their heads off on a treadmill set to its highest speed).

I was an industrious child to put it lightly, though it certainly drowned out the sound of slamming doors and smashing plates.

On one day in particular I had been minding my own business, battling, decapitating, constructing conflicts the likes of which Ireland had never seen, when my older Brother entered (eleven years older to be precise). If not for the steam permeating his clothes like he had just been rode at Leopardstown, then it was the maroon of his cheeks that tipped me off to his mood. Before I could awkwardly greet him he stomped over and lifted my battlefield, fortress and hapless combatants away with a wound-up kick, sending them against the wall in wails of unsettling crashes that I’d never forget.

‘Grow the hell up,’ he roared before storming away.

I remembered that version of me well, I could see her as if I was standing just beyond the door of the shed, a ghost that Brother passed through on his way out. She cried, sobbing at what someone she loved could do to her imagination, to something she cared so deeply about. Sure, she knew he was prone to fits of rage, but never had it been directed at her. Having bawled a sleeve’s worth of tears she calmly stood, marched to her ruined toys and began putting them back just as they were before he had interrupted – the second time she’d been too afraid to fight back, unlike her soldiers.

That moment. That was a moment that changed me. It taught me that the people we love can sometimes hurt us the worst. Still, Nana Kat knew exactly what to say, ‘Don’t you mind him lovey, he’s only mad with himself.’ As if her words were gospel Brother apologised a few weeks later; mad with himself just as she’d said.

Seven years passed in a blink and I was suddenly fourteen (there or there abouts anyway). Mam and Dad decided to go their separate ways, leaving whatever hope I had of having a normal childhood in ruins. It was also around that time that I started smoking; Lights, which is what Nana Kat smoked when she wasn’t coughing up her last lung. Like some choose to do when backed into an emotional corner, I grabbed a bag, packed it with chocolate digestives, those butter biscuits with the ships on them, a share pack of Capri-Suns and ran away forever. It hadn’t even been two days before I was discovered outside The Bargain Store; ravenous, tired, sore and in desperate need of a hug from my Nana.

That particular stunt cost me whatever credibility I had left in the malls outside the classroom. Yet for all the gossip, all the strange looks, all the passing remarks, there was one amongst the mob I could call friend; Sadie Kane. Like me, Sadie had her own troubles and, also like me, Sadie’s parents were separated. She liked the music I liked, she liked the food I liked, she loved her Nana as much as I loved mine... Had I’ve been born a boy; best friends would suffice for this lifetime, however.

Still, they all thought we were together anyway, as did Nana Kat who once remarked, ‘Ooh, I do only be worrying about you, Cassie... People might be saying that you’re one of them Lebanese, y’know?’ Her off-hand, off-the-cuff comment would forever be cherished as an in-joke amongst family, but little did I know that it would be the last of Nana’s one-liners. On a fine Summer’s day in 2009, my safe, icy fortress that I had spent years building around my wounded soul was shattered: the day my Nana Kat died.

For the following seventy-two hours, “I’m sorry for your loss” was all I was going to hear.

Everyone had their own version, their own way, their own timbre and tone when saying it. Some even chose to forgo the “I am” prefix. Patsy Fagan’s way, forever inebriated as he was, had a certain je ne sais quoi about it; a deeply touching slant – “Jaysus, Jaysus, shockin’, shockin’ sorrfoyahlawss” – shaking your hand all-the-while with his threadbare, leathery ones; warm too, as if he had left them on the windowsill to soak in the Sun. The ones who were deeply affected though, they didn’t say it, they just hugged you and whispered “I know, I know” over and over in your ear; nodding as you destroyed their shoulder with snots and tears. When I finally came free from Sadie’s her blouse should’ve been rang out and hung on a line.

I wasn’t crying solely out of grief, though. A cruel hatred had seeped into my bones off the back of it; hatred for Janey McEnroe.

Hate.

I thought I knew what it was to hate, to feel that, that heat, spread from your heart and worm its way like fire-scored vines into each and every fibre of your flesh until it was all that you could feel. It would pulse then, lasting for a minute, or two, or maybe five depending on how much you were willing to let flow. I hated School. I hated when I had homework to finish. I hated when Dad made Spaghetti Bolognese and secretly put onions in it...

Hate. I didn’t know hate at all.

Not until it’s blaze-spewing, smog-belching, all-consuming roots had flourished beneath my boots, broke through their soles, wrapped themselves around my legs and blossomed into ember-smoked flowers in the place where my heart lay in twain.

I knew it then.

I knew it well.

I thought it was all I would ever know.

Hate. Hate; burning, furniture-breaking, curse-screaming hate. Hate for Janey McEnroe and what she did to me and my Nana years ago, the things she said and the jokes she made, what she had made little of.

Hate. Hate mighty enough to make me want to drag her from her house in the middle of the night, throw her on the dew-dripped grass of her front lawn and beat the innocent look off of her face. At other stranger, darker hours of the day I wished to berate her whole family in front of her, then steal her cat, her dog and her stupid budgie that she wrote stupid short stories about. But now, as she shook my hand on what was the second morning of Nana’s wake, trying her best to hold herself together, now it was smouldering.

‘Cassie, I’m so-so-so-so sorr-’ Sadie was swift to usher her on, eager to keep us as far from each other as Nana’s tiny cottage permitted.

Janey McEnroe, Brainy Janey, who had made fun of me and my Nana outside The Bargain Store when I was seven; for not wanting or, perhaps, not being able to browse a proper toy shop’s supposedly superior range; for buying the cheapest toys possible; for wanting to buy soldiers in spite of me being a girl; for laughing, like a hyena, at Nana’s attempts to shoo her away; for turning back once satisfied that she’d upset me enough and leaving us with a smarmy “you mean nothing to me” grin.

Forgetting about how she made me feel, forgetting about how little she had made Nana feel, her unforgivable sin was having uttered anything bearing a remote resemblance to a bad word about that bloody Bargain Store. The Bargain Store that, in my mind’s eye, kept my most cherished memories amongst the rest of the clutter on its metal, vignetted shelves; of times I’d been happy, of times I’d been curious, of times I’d been cheered up and treated by the most wonderful woman in the world, the same woman who had been a second mother to me.

While her body was in a box and she had been planted with a smile; her spirit, her essence was not in her home on Lamb’s Terrace, nor was it in the shed we shared in her tiny back garden. No. For me she was still in that Bargain Store, wandering patiently around its strangled arteries, nodding and smiling at the cheap curios and plastic curiosities the owner had chosen to display, eventually finding her way around to helping me fish out a bag of greens from behind a bag of black and brown horses. That was where she was, where my memory of her would forever remain; a painting filled with milk-chocolate browns, forest greens, stop-sign reds, pearl whites and rusty oranges on a canvas brought to life by the gentlest strokes of love.

Much to Sadie’s surprise, I text Janey a few weeks after the funeral. ‘Hey.’

‘Hi Cassie,’ came her quick reply. ‘How are you feeling?’

A ridiculous question, but that was besides the point as to why I’d bothered to text her at all. My fingers, like blades of grass caught in a gust, trembled at what I was forcing them to type. ‘Do you remember that time... outside The Bargain Store?’

Minutes passed as if they were months. ‘I’ve thought about it at least once a week,’ she replied. And so the curtains rose; I was determined to carry out my mission, to exact my revenge, to make her feel small, little and stupid, to make her feel insignificant.

A quiet, cancer-riddled grumble rang out; some ethereal echo that had been imprinted upon my soul. It bounced along the ruined aisles of my mind and resonated deep within my aching heart, now reduced in intensity to that of a worried whisper. ‘Ah lovey; that was her Winter, she’s Summer now.’

Janey was still typing, but I managed to get there before her; a far different message to the one I had planned. ‘I forgive you.’

Those three bouncing dots vanished for a solid hour. Finally, they reappeared as I sat down to eat dinner.

‘Thank you.’

by me :)

[rukia-writes]

How are you doing Rukia? Remember to take care of yourself❤️❤️ If you don’t mind, can i ask for several RoR daddies (of your choosing) with a strong, buff reader, like Zenin Maki from JJK?

Aw thank you very much ♥️

Haven’t written for Thor in a long time

Loves his strong buff beloved so much. Strength is loved by all pantheons, but it’s just one ingredient for Thor.

Training partner. I’m sorry those are the rules 😭. Using each other to strengthen their muscles, doing push ups, lifting each other, bench pressing each other, Okay, it’s training and of course it is but Loki just thinks the two are making out.

Loves his s/o muscles kisses them ever so often. (Kiss his back 😭)

Not only a training partner but on the road partner too. If Thor wants to visit somewhere because idk a strong dragon is tearing up Valhalla then he wants to go see with his strong s/o by his side.

Bonus: while appearances doesn’t matter to Thor, he does really love his s/o muscles wants to one get in between their thighs and give him a little squeeze. (You didn’t hear that from me)

As stated before, strength is very admirable in every pantheon and Poseidon considers his strong and buff s/o, well, perfect.

Poseidon’s s/o lifted him above their heads to show how strong they were and it flipped Poseidon’s world. Stirred something in the sea god. ♥️

Getting Poseidon to train is tricky, because he sees training is for those who essentially imperfect but once his s/o almost knocks him out Poseidon is just like 👀👀👀”listen, damn you.” And that’s how Poseidon will train with his s/o and while he won’t admit out right he’ll be glad for it because even perfection can use some toning.

In the Gigantomachy, to this day he hasn’t forgiven his s/o (even though he gave his s/o a reward later) for lifting him over their head when everyone was cheering. Zeus and Adamas pick on Poseidon whenever they can.

“If I run towards (Name), they’ll lift me up.” Buddha will run towards their strong and buff s/o and indeed they do lift Buddha effortlessly with one arm making Kintoki lose his shit.

Buddha loves his strong and buff s/o a lot besides knowing his s/o will catch him Buddha loves to talk to his beloved while he sits on their back while they do push ups.

Buddha will train with his s/o not just physically but the two will meditate together. Kintoki will train with Buddha’s s/o whenever he can.

Buddha lives for seeing his strong and buff s/o thighs. He loves all of them but their thighs is what Buddha loves ( and what a coincidence Buddha’s s/o likes his thighs too)

A wild Tesla appears! (•̀ᴗ•́)و

Mind vs brawn.

Tesla will fix his strong and buff s/o training equipment and it won’t operate the way it used to. No! It’s new and improved! Treadmill broke? Tesla fixes it and it goes faster with a cooling system, inclines, reclines, talks back and asks what’s the plan for today. (You get the picture).

Tesla will exercise with his beloved especially in the morning ☀️ the best to way to wake up and get the mind right. Tesla prefers if his s/o will let him help with their exercise, Especially for his research, but when it comes to fighting Tesla wants to watch and learn and then he’ll participate. (Now we know how a scientist is out here fighting Beelzebub) ♥️

If the other three like their strong and buff s/o thighs, Tesla likes their arms. Heads goes brrr for a minute. “Will you offer up your body to me? It’s the pinnacle of science.” “Right after this set.”

🍂Rukia-Writes🍂

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: Gains

Poly Sons of Ipswich x Reader

Word Count: 2,802

Summary: Trying to take advantage of their gym membership, reader starts working with a devastatingly attractive personal trainer. And his friend is pretty hot, too.  

The gym was still new for you but you had been coming consistently enough that you felt comfortable there. You knew what times equipment would be available and what times the crowds would be too much (week days 3-5:30 was like competing in the Hunger Games.)

Cardio always came before strength exercises because your muscles would be too fatigued otherwise. 

And on Tuesdays and Saturdays they played your favorite music on the loud speakers so you didn’t have to bother with headphones on those days.

Still, you weren’t an expert by any means. 

In fact, you were still hesitant to call yourself a gym-goer because you’d seen the workouts other people did and you definitely weren’t doing that. There was no strategy, you just did what you felt like doing on any given day. You were impressed by their discipline though.

Maybe, most likely, it would benefit you to incorporate some of that into your own routine.

The gym had a personal trainer program and you figured that would be the best bet—much easier than trying to figure it out on your own.

Poking around the website, you found the section that explained the process. The design was modern and intuitive, and it was easy to book an appointment: the only information you needed to provide was your name, the date/time, and what trainer you wanted.

The first two things were easy to fill out but the last had you a little stumped; you weren’t familiar enough with any of the trainers to request anyone by name even with the drop-down menu that listed out all of the choices. For a second, you were tempted to forget about the whole thing but luckily, there was an option for ‘no preference’ and anxiety levels dropped off as you selected it.

Appointment booked, you went on with the rest of your night, focus shifting to what sounded good to eat for dinner.

A week later, you found yourself in the gym’s front lobby, arms crossed and foot tapping. Since it was the first time, there was no harm in arriving early. The directions on the website had said to wait there for the trainer but so far there was no sign of them. Granted, there was still five minutes until the scheduled start so it would be unfair to start complaining about them just yet.

Rolling your neck to alleviate some of the tension, you paused mid-stretch, neck awkwardly craned like a gaggling turkey, when a man walked out. He was without a doubt the most attractive man you’d seen at the gym to date.

Thick dark hair that curled just above his ears. Warm brown eyes and an even warmer smile. Tanned skin that wrapped around arms that had just the right amount muscle: toned but not bulky. All in all, a good looking man.

You tracked him as he glanced around the area, looking for something—his eyes suddenly met yours and you straightened up in embarrassment—or someone. “Y/N?” he questioned.

You throat was so dry, it was painful to swallow. “That’s me.”

It didn’t seem possible but his smile grew even brighter. He stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you. I’m Caleb and I’ll be your trainer today.”

Good karma most certainly at work here. How else could you explain being lucky enough to have the hottest guy in the gym be the trainer? Whatever the case, you weren’t going to look this particular gift horse in the mouth.

He gestured you forward with a wave of his hand and followed you to the main workout area. There was slight pressure to staying cool and collected with him behind you. 

“I’m going to start you off with some jogging to warm-up. Do you want to use the track or hop on a treadmill?”

“Treadmill is fine. It’s what I normally use.”

You stepped up onto the belt and fiddled with the settings to establish a pace you felt comfortable with. The machine started up with a loud hum and your arms and legs began to pump. Normally, you’d have your earphones in to distract yourself with music but they weren’t that day so that you could hear Caleb if he said anything to you.

Good thinking, really, since he did indeed start chatting.

“So how long have you been a member?” he asked.

Determined not to sound steady, you took a few moments to normalize your breathing. “About two months. But this is the first time I’ve worked with a professional,” you added at the end.

It was hard to hear his laugh over the treadmill but the hitching of his shoulders gave him away. “Thanks, but I’m not really a professional. I just have a training certification is all.”

Huh. Attractive and humble. If you weren’t careful, you’d develop a full-blown crush in no time.

“A certification sounds professional to me,” you insisted. There. That wasn’t flirty at all. You were merely sharing an opinion.

Jogging passed by faster than it usually did even without music. Evidently, all that was needed to make a run enjoyable was good conversation and an even better view. 

You powered off the treadmill and gradually transitioned to a walk and then a full stop. A single bead of sweat trailed down the side of your face but before you could wipe it away, only to stumble after being patted on the back by Caleb. 

Those muscles were not just for show.

You had mixed feelings about him giving you props for completing the warm up. On one hand, you were a little insulted because even you could handle jogging for ten minutes. On the other, it was nice to have him flatter you. And he seemed to type to mean his compliments.

“Thanks,” you said almost like a question as you plopped down to stretch.

“Really,” he insisted. There wasn’t any level of patronizing tone that you could detect. “You’d be surprised by how many people I work with that complain about running.”

“Really?” you exclaimed with surprise. “I wouldn’t say I love running but it’s not terrible. Better than swimming anyway.”

“Whoa, now. I’ll have you know that I was a big swimmer in high school.”

The friendly banter about the woes, or in his case, the highs of swimming got you through the stretches he showed you. Occasionally, there would be a pause while he corrected your posture but once you fixed your position, the banter started up again.  

Finally, you conceded, “I will admit that swimming did wonders for your shoulders though.”

He looked away with a bow of his head. He smiled but it was closed lipped, no teeth on display. Oops. That comment may have been a bit too forward. Rather than draw more attention to it, you diverted attention to the actual work out.

Seeming to be of the same mind, Caleb dropped it, too, and set you up at a weight bench. He must’ve have seen the doubt on your face.

“Don’t worry,” he assured. “I’m not going to have you squatting 300 pounds or anything crazy. Here. Take this and we’ll start with some dumb bell rows.”

He handed you a twenty-pound weight, the smooth metal cool against your palm. The weight was noticeable but not so heavy you struggled to hold it. A month or two of this and your arms would actually tone out pretty nice.

You peered subtly at Caleb behind you. You wouldn’t be at Caleb’s level, not just after a couple weeks but then again, you doubted most people could measure up to him even after working out everyday for a year straight.

Someone people had all the good genes.

You could’ve complained but found it much more enjoyable to appreciate the good view. In fact, it was the view that got you through the rest of the season.

“Thanks,” you panted around the mouth of your water bottle. A bead of sweat ran down your neck and you reached to wipe it off.

“You did great, really,” he said, the epitome of what a good trainer should sound like. “The scariest step is always to start so signing up for additional personal training will be a piece of cake.”

“Y-yeah.” Suddenly, your shoe laces fascinated you. “So…if I want to do that—more of this...do I choose you on from that list of trainers?”

“Sure thing. Or if you’d prefer to try someone else, all of the trainers are fantastic choices.”

“I think I’ll stick with you. As long as that’s not weird or anything…”

“Nope, not weird.”

You worked up the courage to look him in the eyes. Swirling irises of molten brown, you couldn’t help but be drawn into them. “Same time next week then?”

“Same time next week,” he agreed with a nod.

***

It had been a little over a month since you had started working with Caleb at the gym and what had started as one personal training session a week had turned into two, sometimes three. Improvement was happening steadily and you definitely felt a difference in your stamina.

Strangely enough, you were even proud of the small callouses that were starting to develop on the tops of your palms, under the fingers. They weren’t classically beautiful but at least you had proof of the work you were doing.

Having worked up the confidence, you’d also started doing some of the exercises Caleb showed you on your own. It was on one such day that you met him.

Another gym babe.

The first thing you noticed was his ass. Literally. He was in prime squat position and his short, though knee length and loose as they may be, could not hide his toned glutes.

You were embarrassed to admit that you were totally ogling him, like a dog looked at a prime cut of meat. You didn’t get star struck often, but damn.

The universe must have sought to punish you for the lack of propriety and your mp3 slipped through your sweaty fingers onto the moving treadmill, yanking the earphones out of your ears along with it as it flew backwards on the conveyor belt.

Recovering from the stumble your mp3 caused, you turned off the machine and gingerly picked out the music player, preparing for the worst.

Miraculously, the screen was still in tact and sounds was still coming through the earphones. You took another sigh of relief when you realized he was preoccupied by his own workout and hadn’t seen your embarrassing moment.

Something similar happened the next time you saw him a few days later: he was cooling down after having thoroughly trounced the heavy bag in the small boxing set-up the gym had. His arms looked so good in his cut-off tank (muscles and veins were all on display) that you froze with your mouth hanging wide open.

Another gym-goer did catch you that time but at least it wasn’t the god sculpted from marble.

You almost felt bad, like you were cheating on one of your crush’s with another which was ridiculous because Caleb was just a trainer and you didn’t even know the other one’s name.

Who knew that so much drama could happen in the confines of a simple neighborhood gym? Seriously, The Bachelor wished it could have as many good options as the gym seemed to.

***

You huffed as you pushed yourself up on increasing shaky arms. For a few seconds, you honestly didn’t think you’d be able to do it as your arms got stuck at a forty-five degree angle. Digging deep down, you managed to fully extend your arms.

“Nine,” Caleb counted. He was kneeling besides you on the yoga mat, counting, and adjusting your form here and there, while you did push-ups

Rather than descend slowly as was proper for push-ups, you collapsed to the mat with your arms squished underneath your chest. Rolled your head, you gave him your best pleading eyes and hoped he might take mercy.

That hope was misplaced. He gave a sympathetic smile and shook his head negatively. “Sorry, Y/N. We agreed on ten and by my count, you still have one more to go.”

“Can I not and say that I did?”

“Come on now. It’s only one more.” He waved his hands around like he was waving imaginary pom-poms. “You can do it!”

You managed a weak laugh. There was no way you could’ve say no. Your arms felt like they were burning but he looked adorable trying to be a cheerleader. An unbidden image of him wearing a cute male cheerleading uniform flashed in your mind and you thought he would pull one off well, what with his wide shoulders and sculpted legs.

Imagination got you through the last push-up and you groaned as you turned over on the mat, spread out like a star fish. “That was absolute torture.”

Caleb opened his mouth but was interrupted by a newcomer.

“Geez, man. You need to take it easier on your clients.”

Recognizing the voice, you found the other gym guy you’d been eyeing standing above you.

“Pogue.” Caleb held his fist out to the man who in turned bumped his with the trainer’s. Evidently, they knew each other.

Then they embraced in a full-on hug.

Okay, so they definitely knew each other. And it was hard to miss the parting caress to Pogue’s shoulders—what kind of name was Pogue anyway?—that was generally reserved for two people that were close.

Were they related? Dating, perhaps?

Your imagination fired up again and you wondered what they would look like wrapped even more intimately with one another…which was entirely despicable, you reminded yourself. There was no proof they were romantically involved, and, even if they were, it was none of your business.

The other two, who had been talking while you were maladaptively fantasizing, had continued talking and their conversation now turned to you.

“So who’s this?” Pogue questioned politely.

“This is Y/N,” Caleb introduce you. “They’re one of the people I work with.”

Pogue stuck his hand out to shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m glad Caleb hasn’t killed you off yet.”

“Hey! I am extremely fair with workouts, aren’t I, Y/N?”

“He is,” you said with a small smile, rocking on your feet. “Besides, he way too nice to ever become a drill sergeant.”

Pogue shoved Caleb lightly and Caleb elbowed him in return. “I know he doesn’t look like the type, but he was quite the drill sergeant back when we were both swimmers. He just hides the competitive instinct under his charming smiles.”

That peaked your curiosity. “No way, you guys swam together back in the day?”

“Spencer Academy was state champs three years running in our time,” Caleb admitted. “But nowadays I do my thing with personal training and Pogue more into MMA.”

“MMA?” you questioned.

“Mixed Martial Arts,” Caleb supplied. “You’ve probably seen him hogging the punching bags in the back.”

You most certainly had but you weren’t about to confess that to either of them. It would be too embarrassing and might even toe the line of harassment.

“You are more than welcome to share bags with me, any time,” Pogue grinned teasingly.

A thought hit and flowed out of your mouth before you could stop it. “You guys should give me a lesson sometime.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were interested in that sort of thing,” Caleb said, surprise coloring his voice.

“Are you saying that you don’t think I can?” You weren’t sure what made you say it. It’s not like you were hardcore dedicated to trying it. 

Whatever the cause it had Pogue chiming in save the situation.

“What prince charming means is that we would love to give a demonstration sometime.”

Caleb down at his watch because of course he still wore one instead of just using his phone like most other people. “Damn. Our hour is up Y/n and I’m late getting my next client. But we can hit the punching bags next time, if you want…?”

“Sure. Uh. Does Wednesday work for you?”

Both of the men nodded and Caleb called over his shoulder as he jogged to the lobby. “It’s a date. Schedule it online and I’ll approve it.”

The word kept replaying over and over. Date. Date. Date, date, date. He probably didn’t even mean it like that but it didn’t stop your heart from fluttering.

Waving goodbye to Pogue wit a promise of seeing him next week, you bounced off to grab your phone from the locker room. There was nothing wrong with scheduling your next session ASAP.

It’s a date.

_______________

Pogue boxing does make a fetching image. Pogue and Caleb in the ring sparring together even more so. Debating whether to make a part 2. 

Caleb always seems to be the hardest for me to write so I hope he sounded okay in this. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I decided to finally post it. 

Thanks for reading! 

[sturchling]

A maribat no pairing needed but if you want one you can write it in. But basically Marinette goes to Gotham and stays with the bat family. Bruce is leaving hits he is Batman so he can help Marinette with being ladybug

Sorry for the wait! Hope you like it! I decided to make this one a little more funny with a completely oblivious Marinette. Sorry if you don't like her being this oblivious, just wanted to have some fun with this one. I really liked that idea and thought it was funny. I hope you like it too, I had a lot of fun writing it!

Marinette was so excited she was shaking. She had just gotten word that she had been accepted into an exchange student program with Gotham Academy. Not only would she be able to get away from Lila and the drama with the class, but she may also be able to find Batman and get some help with tracking down Hawkmoth. Marinette would be hosted by the Wayne family, who was sponsoring this whole program. Marinette was impressed by Mr. Wayne's generousity. It is really generous of Mr. Wayne to set up and fund this whole program. He must be a really nice man. Marinette wasn't going waste this opportunity. She would enjoy her time in America, and she would definitely find Batman before the program was over!

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

Bruce really hoped this crazy plan worked. He had learned several weeks ago about a blog based out of Paris called the Ladyblog. It mainly posted a bunch of nonsense about a girl named Lila who was clearly a liar. But that wasn't what caught his attention. What caught his attention was a few stories posted between the interviews with the liar. These posts were about something called 'akuma attacks' and a supervillain named Hawkmoth who had been terrorizing Paris for years now. At first, Bruce just thought it was more nonsense, like the posts about the liar. But to be safe, he looked into it more, and was astonished to find out it was the truth. He learned everything Hawkmoth had done, all the different akumas, and about the local heroes: Ladybug and Chat Noir.

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

He was shocked to see that the heroes defending Paris were just kids. And while they have done great on their own, Bruce could tell they haven't had any kind of combat training. If they go up against an akuma with real training, they would be at a significant disadvantage. Plus, they would likely not have any good strategy to discover Hawkmoth's identity. Even if they keep winning against the akumas, they have to find and beat Hawkmoth or this madness will never end. He resolved in that moment to find these kids and help them. He focused on Ladybug and started to figure out her civilian ID. It took a few weeks, but he eventually found out she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She always disappeared once Ladybug appeared, and there were a few times that a security camera would see her duck into an alley, and then a few moments later, Ladybug would emerge. Once he knew her identity, he began to plan.

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

He decided the easiest way to get her to Gotham would likely be something regarding school. At first he thought of a class trip for her whole class, but decided against it. That idea wouldn't work with the rest of his plan. Instead, he set up a student exchange program with Gotham Academy. He would host the student that was selected at his manor for the duration of the program and fund the entire thing. The academy didn't think anything of it, used to Mr. Wayne's charitable acts for the school. His one condition was that he got to choose the student. The academy agreed, it only made sense since Mr. Wayne was funding the program and would host the student as well.

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

Mr. Wayne made sure that the news of the program made it to Paris and was heavily advertised. He even sent the information to Ms. Dupain-Cheng's school. He was sure that she would learn about it and apply quickly. Ms. Dupain-Cheng had seemed like an ambitious student from what he had found so far, so the offer of studying in America would be tempting. Plus if she was as clever as she seemed, based off her actions as Ladybug, then he was sure she would want to come and try to meet with Batman. It didn't take long for Marinette's application to cross his desk. As he approved her application and typed up her acceptance email, he smiled and began the next phase of his plan.

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

Bruce knew that Marinette would be very concerned if he approached her about being Ladybug outright. It would be best if she approached him. And here was the problem. She wouldn't approach him, she would only approach Batman. So he needed to have her figure out that he was Batman. He didn't want her to transform into Ladybug and look around Gotham for him. That could cause people back in Paris to figure out her identity, if Ladybug appeared in Gotham at the same time as Marinette. And if Hawkmoth figured it out, that would be horrible. And if Marinette went looking for Batman in her civilian form, it could be really dangerous. Instead, Bruce and his sons were going to make it painfully obvious who they were. They would leave all their equipment out in plain view, all their case files out, he was even going to park the Batmobile outside in the driveway (out of sight of the gates of course, he doesn't want anyone but Marinette to find out his identity). Short of walking around in their costumes, they would do everything they could.

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

Bruce's sons were excited. They didn't have to be careful about their identities around her which was a plus, and after learning that Marinette fighting Hawkmoth with only Chat Noir for consistent help, they were more than ready to help them with the Hawkmoth problem. They had also made bets on how long it would take her to figure it out, and which member of the family would be the one to give it away. They were ready for Marinette to arrive.

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

Marinette had arrived about a week ago, and Bruce's plan was in full effect. But, surprisingly, Marinette hadn't figured it out. She spent most of her time out, walking around Gotham. She had told the Waynes that she was familiarizing her self with the city and also gathering inspiration for her designs. In reality, she was focused on finding Batman. So focused in fact, that she missed all the clues that the Waynes were leaving her. She had walked right past the Batmobile, hardly giving it a second glance. She had picked up some casefiles sitting at the dining table, and instead of reading, or even just looking at them, she just handed them to Bruce and finished setting the table. She had walked in on Jason cleaning his guns in the living room, and instead of commenting on that, just sat down and turned on the TV. At one point, she even came into the gym and found Dick doing an acrobatic routine that only Nightwing would be able to do, all while Tim and Jason were sparing, and Damian was sharpening his sword. They were sure this would get her attention. But Marinette didn't even notice. She just got on a treadmill, put in her headphones and started running. They boys just stared at her. They were shocked that she could be so oblivious.

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

While Marinette was out walking around Gotham, looking for Batman again, the Batfam was having a meeting at the manor. They couldn't believe that Marinette hadn't figured it out yet. At least Bruce could definitely prove that his secret ID was better than Clark's. Marinette's been living with him for months now, with them actively trying to reveal their secret to her, and she still couldn't figure it out. They were running out of ideas and time. The program ended in a few weeks and they had done everything they could think of. Except for one thing. They hadn't thought they would have to be so obvious, but it was clear that Marinette would figure it out any other way.

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

So, that is how they found themselves coming up from the Batcave, in full costume, making a lot of noise to draw Marinette's attention as she sat watching TV in the living room. Marinette came around the corner and looked at them. Marinette's eyes grew wide, and she just stared. The Waynes were sure she finally figured it out. Finally, she broke the silence, saying "Nice costumes guys! You look just like the real Batfam. Nice attention to detail!" Then she just went back into the living room, leaving the Batfam frozen in disbelief.

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

Bruce decided enough was enough, and the family went into the living room, still in costume, and told Marinette their secret directly. She was pretty surprised. She had been so consumed with looking for Batman around Gotham, she never even thought she might be living with him. The night continued for a long time after that. Marinette revealed her secret and the Waynes revealed they had known all along. They told her that they had seen her using the horse miraculous to go back to Paris for an akuma battle, which that may not have been how they figured her out, but they had seen that too. After all the reveals were done, the group spent the rest of the night focused on Hawkmoth and how to track him. Tim got to work immediately and was sure he would have an answer soon, though it may be after she went back to Paris. The rest of Marinette's time in Gotham was spent training how to fight properly, and how to find better places to transform. Marinette soon went back to Paris, armed with better fighting skills, and the knowledge that she now had Batman as an ally in the fight against Hawkmoth.

[13uswntimagines]

Everyone Needs a Little Help (Kellex x Reader)

This is a prequil within the Troublemaker universe (but you totally don’t have to read the first one to understand). Set in a world where people are classified as either dominant or submissive, the reader is unhappy with her results. Alex and Kelley show her everyone needs a little help sometimes. 

so a couple of things about this universe- 1) again people are classified as either dominant or submissive and there are several types (i.e Littles, subs, ect). 2) Every submissive is assigned a dominant (or two). I haven’t fleshed out the process by which this happens, but your paired based on personality traits, careers, preferences and other factors. 3) Being paired doesn’t necessarily mean you have to be in a romantic relationship. 4) There are physical impacts of one’s baring (i.e guilt literally weights on submissives. so if they do something wrong, there is literally a physical ailment that goes a long with it) (based on the universe of Anything that Bleeds by mypedia on AO3)

I think i’m going to continue this universe (we’ve already discussed parings and stuff) and i think i’m open to taking suggestions for things people would like to see (Just not Smut). I hope you enjoy!!!

Sweat poured down your forehead, dripping down your chin and off your nose onto the treadmill with every step. You ignored the burning in your lungs and the aches in your legs. You thrived on the pain. It eased the bubbling guilt in your stomach. 

Practice had been a shitshow. You couldn’t Connect with any passes, and every time your foot touched the ball, it was sent flying in the wrong direction. Your poor performance was a result of giving into Emily’s pout about a movie night, and the nightmares that her horror movie choice had brought on. You didn’t want to go to your dominants and admit you couldn’t sleep(you were fairly independent and you didn’t want anyone to take that from you), so you did what you always did and suffered in silence. 

By the time you got to practice you were exhausted. Your playing was so bad that Jill pulled you aside after practice and told you to “take care of it,” with a disappointed glare. You knew what that meant. What that implied, as all submissive would. She deemed that you had earned yourself a punishment, and frankly the cannonball in your stomach told you the same. You knew your assigned dominates would take care of it. Would offer you the relief you so craved, but you were too stubborn to ask. You disagreed with your test results and all the stigma that came with them. You didn’t need help. 

Still, her words had immediately set the ball of guilt rolling in your stomach just like every other mistake you made throughout the day. 

Instead of going to your assigned dominants, you had decided to take care of the guilt on your own, in the only way you knew how. It was easier to just take care of it, it was less embarrassing, it was your nightly soul-cleansing ritual plus a couple more miles to make up for your fuckups at practice. With every step you took, you felt the weight in your stomach lessen just a little bit. Each drip of sweat a penance for every bad thing you had done during the day. 

You glanced down at the odometer- 14 miles down and god only knew how many more to go. You huffed, whipping the sweat from your eyes, before turning up the speed on the treadmill as high as it would go. 

*****

“Is Y/n acting a little odd?” Alex asked, sitting down at the breakfast table beside Kelley. The defender glanced towards where you were sitting by yourself, eating a bowl of oatmeal. Her eyebrows furrowed, you hated oatmeal. 

“Doesn’t she always?” Ashlyn interjected, her mouth half full of cereal. 

You weren’t like every other submissive (or even switch) on the team. In the 6 months since your call up, you hadn’t once sought out Alex and Kelley for comfort, and you absolutely despised when anyone brought up your bearing. You brushed off concern and acted as though nothing phased you, foregoing the typical (and government-mandated) remedies when you were having a bad day. None of the women knew how you did it. How you forewent your natural instincts and needs. 

“Well, more odd than usual?” Alex corrected, her head cocking to the side as Emily sat across from her, her plate stacked high with chocolate chip pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes were your favorite, so why in the fuck were you eating a food you hated. 

“She was gone before I got up,” Emily grumbled, shoving pancake in her mouth. She was tired and hungry. Lindsey shook her head at her submissive, debating on telling her to slow down. 

“What time did the two of you go to bed,” Lindsey asked, using her thumb to while some of the chocolate from the side of Emily’s mouth. 

“Don’t know, she wasn’t there when I finally zonked out,” The defender shrugged, blind to the looks most of the veterans were sharing. 

“What the hell could she have been doing?” Ashlyn shook her head. You weren’t the typical sub, but you usually avoided breaking major team rules like curfew. 

“She had a really bad day yesterday, and I’m pretty sure Jill pulled her aside after practice,” Lindsey mumbled. 

A dark look passed over the dominant’s faces. The bearing of the team was considered team business, and as a courtesy to the team, the coaching staff didn’t reprimand a submissive without their designated dominant present. You had been assigned to Kellex the second you received your letter in the mail, and for Jill to go behind their back was a big deal.

There were several explanations for where you could have gone, especially if you felt you were deserving of a punishment. It was cruel to make a submissive wait to get that weight off of them, it would eventually drive them to insanity (and extreme emotional instability). 

Kelley met Alex’s wide eyes, her mind immediately going to the worst-case scenario. “You think she went to a center instead of coming to us?” 

Why would you choose to have a random government person punish you when there were almost a dozen (non-creepy and trustworthy) dominants in the team who would have willingly helped?

“She couldn’t have left the hotel without telling someone,”  Kelley soothed, running her hand up Alex’s back. 

Emily nodded, shoving more pancakes into her mouth. “It’s the fourth night in a row that it’s happened. They won’t let you go to those places too often without alerting your assigned dominants,” 

The woman didn’t question how she knew that… it was probably from her less than perfect experiences in college. 

All eyes followed you as you abruptly stood from the table, dumped your nearly full bowl of oatmeal into the trash, and exited the room. 

“Well, it seems she’s got some explaining to do, especially if all she’s going to eat is a quarter of a bowl of oatmeal,” Alex said softly, grabbing Kelley’s hand and pulling her out of the room behind you.

*****

You pouted at the women across from you. You wanted to be off with the other youngins, causing trouble that you would no doubt pay for later, not getting worried looks from the women that were assigned to be your dominants. 

“It’s simple, just tell us where you were last night, and you can go,” Alex said again, her voice stern but soft, not showing her growing frustration. You were like a puppy. If they were too tough, you would just run away and hide, but you still had some answering to do. 

You huffed, crossing your arms. They had asked you the same question about 8 different times over the past half hour and you didn’t find it amusing anymore. 

“I still don’t see why it matters,” You grumbled, pouting like a petulant child. Kelley suppressed her Aw at how cute you were. How you still refused to admit your bearing was beyond them, it was so obvious in moments like this. That you needed (and somewhere deep down inside wanted) someone to take care of you. 

“Because you weren’t in your room when Sonnett went to sleep or woke up all week. You’re not supposed to go MIA, it’s a team rule remember,” Kelley reminded you, watching as your back stiffened slightly. See, most team rules weren’t really for the entire team. They were designed to keep the submissive happy, and healthy. to give them easy, non-restrictive rules that they could follow. You wished they would just say it rather than pretending it was for everyone. 

“Only if I leave the hotel. I didn’t,” You snapped back, thankful that the already heavy ball of guilt in your stomach didn’t get any bigger. 

“So why are you hiding it if you didn’t do anything wrong?” Alex said, raising her eyebrow. You shrunk slightly in your seat, looking away from the woman. Perhaps you needed something a bit firmer than they originally thought. She narrowed her eyes when you peeled up from your staring contest with the floor. Definitely a firmer hand. Especially if you were going to be as little as they thought you were, and they were ever going to help you come to terms with your bearing. 

You shivered under the weight of Alex’s gaze. Sighing at the little piece of yourself that craved her to be more dominant. To tell you what you needed right now. Your shoulders slumped in defeat. 

“I went to the gym. I always go to the gym, it just helps to take the edge off,” 

Kelley and Alex shared a glance. It was unhealthy for a submissive to try and take care of the weight that guilt brought by themselves. So unhealthy that the government had set up a mandate for there to be anonymous institutions across the country, had every submissive assigned a dominant, and a massive punishment for dominants who denied their subs a way to gain atonement. This was worse than some odd behavior, or a coach who didn’t understand dynamics. 

“What do you mean?” Kelley asked carefully, watching for every one of your tells. 

You shrugged half-heartedly, your fingers twitching erratically. “Running makes the guilt go away, usually” 

They blinked at you, taking in every shift of your body. It was as though the admission had physically pained you. Every lesson they had in school taught them that submissives couldn’t “take care of it” on their own. How long had you been doing this to yourself?

Alex grit her teeth, they needed to know just how bad it was before they could help you fix it. “How much running?” 

You bit your lip shrugging again. Running had been your coping mechanism since you got your results. At first it was just a mile or two, but over the years it had grown. Amplified by the pressure your coach constantly placed on you.“It depends on how bad I did. This time it just won’t stop,” 

You pressed your palms into your eyes, groaning. It had never been this bad before. The weight in your stomach had never lingered this long before. 

“So you decided to punish yourself instead of coming to one of us?” Kelley asked you with a raised eyebrow. You nodded. Just because there were people available to help didn’t mean you wanted it. They were your team. You needed them to see you as strong and worthy of your spot, not desperate, and unable to take care of themselves. Not weak. 

“Do you know how dangerous that is? And did you even give yourself proper aftercare?” Alex’s jaw dropped in shock when you shook your head. Aftercare was the most important part. It was essential to mental health. 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not weak. I don’t need it to go away completely. Just enough so I play better,” You got quiet towards the end, huffing out the last part. If you couldn’t get your shit together you would lose your dream altogether. Alex’s hand gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look her in the eyes. 

“You’re not weak. Not even close. You know how badass Alyssa is?” She said firmly. You nodded once. You knew the bold goalkeeper. She was the head of the department of defense, your fearless leader on the field. “Well she even needs Becky to help her out sometimes,” Alex finished. You blinked. It wasn’t a secret that Alyssa was submissive (just like you), but you had never considered how she dealt with your bearing. 

Sensing the gears turning in her head and her opening, Kelley took a shot at the next step. 

 “Would you let us help?” 

You froze, worrying your lip between your teeth. If Alyssa could accept help, then it couldn’t be so bad right? It was strange, almost like you weren’t your 22-year-old self anymore as you looked into the caring eyes of the woman in front of you. The worried eyes. The eyes that weren’t staring at you like you were a disgrace. You had never felt this way before. 

The “Yes,” that left your lips was barely audible, but both women heard it. A heavy silence hung in the air between you. 

You blinked at the ground, waiting. You had never ever let someone punish you before. The hand on your chin moved to brush an errant curl from your eyes. “Remember your safe word little one?”

You nodded. It had been one of the first things they told you during the orientation meeting. They also made it clear that you could use it at any time, whether that be to stop some teasing or to let a dominant know where you were at during a punishment. 

“The traffic light system, green for good, yellow for slow down and red for stop,” 

“Good job baby girl.” Alex smiled, rubbing your quickly reddening cheeks affectionately. 

“You’re going to sit here in the corner for 15 minutes alright?” Kelley asked. You blinked and nodded in approval, nerves bubbling in your stomach. But a timeout wasn’t all that bad right? You weren’t 2, and you doubted it would do much for you. 

“Not because you’re bad, but because you made a poor choice not coming to us for help,” Alex added, leaning back. You hummed noncommittally. The women shared a look. They definitely had some work to do with you. 

“What’s your color with that baby?” Kelley asked directly, needing to hear you say the word out loud. Yes, they were your assigned dominants, but that still didn’t give them the right to overstep. 

“Green,” You mumbled, looking the women in the eyes, the single word fairly heavy on your tongue. The permission you were giving them wasn’t lost on you. Though you could stop it all with one word, it was still difficult to give up that control. 

Alex tapped her watch, setting your timer, and patted your knee as both women left you for your timeout. 

The first three minutes weren’t bad, but sitting still for long periods of time was never your strong suit. Yes, you wanted the weight of your guilt to go away, but so far that wasn’t happening. Your feet started kicking halfway through minute 4 and by minute five you were wiggling in your seat, debating on spinning the desk chair in circles. 

Hands grabbed the armrests of the chair, dreading you. You glanced up at Kelley, pouting. “Stay,” she said sternly before retreating back to Alex’s side. 

You bit your lip, managing to stay for 2 more minutes, hoping that the heaviness that filled your bones ease. But it didn’t. This was a fucking pointless exercise and you would be better off running all night at this rate.

“This isn’t helping,” You groaned, pushing yourself up off the chair, deciding to end this little foray into the exploration of your baring. 

Alex stepped in front of you, her arms crossed and her captain face on full display. “You have to stay there till the timer is up,”

You huffed, sitting back in the seat. “I don’t understand what this is supposed to do. It’s not making me feel better,” 

Alex and Kelley shared another look. If a firmer hand had worked before, then maybe that’s what they needed to do right now. Maybe timeouts would work in the future, but whatever Jill had said to you was clearly worse than a slight misstep from the day. 

“We can try something stronger,” Alex said thoughtfully, watching as you stiffened. You knew what that meant, but you trusted the women (even if you didn’t want to). 

“don’t want it,” You whined. Yes, it might help, but they weren’t something you particularly enjoyed. 

“But do you need it?” Kelley pressed, raising her eyebrow at you. You bit you lip, your fingers fidgeting. Could you admit that you needed this? Could you be honest? The guilt ball shifted in your stomach, and you nodded. You just wanted this to go away. 

“Over my lap babydoll,” Kelley patted her knees. You stared at the woman for a few seconds, before standing and carefully making your way over to her. Your cheeks flamed when she helped you position yourself across your lap, running her hand down your back and letting you grab her ankle for support. 

She patted you butt lightly. “Color?”

“Green,” You said quietly, thankful when Alex sat beside you and let you rest your cheek on her thigh. You should feel embarrassed about your situation, but you couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed in your chest. You could tell they cared with every move they made. They weren’t doing this to you, they were doing it for you. 

“Here we go babydoll,” Kelley said softly, giving you a second to adjust before it began. With every swat, the weight in your chest lightened. Every spank chipped away at the guilt that had followed you for years.

You weren’t sure how many Kelley gave you, and you only became aware you were crying when Alex shushed you, running fingers through your hair. They checked in often, and before you knew it, you were being scooped up into Alex’s arms. She held you tight and rocked you back and forth, coping to you as if you were a small child. 

“Feel better little one?” Kelley rubbed your back and kissed the side of your head. 

“Hmm,” you hummed, not even finding it strange how difficult words were at the moment. All that mattered was that you were safe and warm and content. It was nice with all their reassuring and cooing. Perhaps you could do this again next time you had a problem. 

“Good. Now it’s cuddle time.”