#he Won and that is the important thing watson

[ncisfranchise-source]

The CBS fall 2024 season takes one of its most popular franchises back in time with NCIS: Origins. The NCIS prequel is set in 1991 and centers on a young Leroy Jethro Gibbs (Austin Stowell) earlier in his career as a special agent at the fledging (NIS) Naval Investigation Service’s Camp Pendleton, which eventually becomes the iconic NCIS division we know today.

Gibbs joins a ragtag team led by Mike Franks, with Kyle Schmid stepping into the role originated in the flagship series by Muse Watson. The weight of taking on this legend is not lost on Schmid. It’s arguably the biggest gig to date for the Canadian who got his start on Disney Channel in the early ’00s and whose recent resume includes starring on the History military series Six and recurring on Syfy’s Being Human and ABC’s Big Sky.

Despite being fatally stabbed in Season 8 of NCIS, Mike Franks would appear from time to time to guide mentee Gibbs (Mark Harmon) as an almost guardian angel. Here, Schmid, who is expecting his first child with his wife Caity Lotz, gives us an early tease of what’s to expect from the flashback spinoff.

What does it mean for you to be part of the legacy of this NCIS franchise? What kind of resource has Mark Harmon been for this new cast? 

Kyle Schmid: I think it’s a great opportunity to be part of something grandfathered into the industry as a standard for procedural television. It has been running for what’s going to be seasons. Mark Harmon did it and put his stamp on it and kind of led the way for everybody. It has been a really neat experience because he has lent his expertise and advice and help to all of us through emails and calls. Just time spent piquing his brain has been really important.

At a stage of your life where you’ve gotten married, having a kid and you get to shoot at Paramount in Los Angeles. I feel like I’ve won the lottery. I can’t wait to continue to work with the cast that was put together. I’m a legitimate fan of everybody they put together for this show. Incredible wife, job, house, and a baby on the way. My life has just become very complete, so I’m very lucky.

Have you had much communication with Muse? 

He and I have become friends. We talk every couple of weeks and catch up on life. Having his blessing to play a younger version of a character he developed has been very cool.

How would you describe where we’ll be introduced to Mike at this point in his life and career? 

He had been part of NCIS for a while. In 2001, when you meet him he is a little older, a little more jaded. He has seen a lot that I think he wished he could have had more control over. So, we’re seeing him at a point in his life where he has paved his own way and earned the respect of the agency. Now he has the opportunity to build a team that he sees as being some of the most promising agents in NCIS. We get to meet those people and see those people grow. He is still at a point where he gets to mentor Gibbs. I think we’ll get to see why Gibbs was who the world fell in love with in the original NCIS and how he came to be that way. And Mike Franks is a big part of that.

With the show taking us back to the 1990s, what kind of vibe do you see us getting? I’m looking forward to feeling that nostalgia. 

The music is what excites me. I was born in the early 1980s, so I like Pearl Jam and Nirvana. Those are still on my daily playlist. I failed to mature with music and am stuck in the 1990s. We have incredible music. I think it’s fun to play with the dynamics of the male-female relationship in the workplace. We get to live in a world where things are a little backward compared to today. I think it’s going to be really interesting how David [J. North] and Gina [Lucita Monreal], who are our showrunners and are phenomenal, decide to tackle that.

We get to see how Mike Franks gets to play a 40-year-old in an industry in 1991 that we in present-day America have forgotten, and have tried to change. I think that will be really interesting for the show. I did a show with Tom Fontana a few years ago. He is one of the best writers I’ve ever worked with. He said to me that there are no black-and-white characters. There are only gray characters. The people who are the bad guys don’t know they’re bad guys. They are just doing the best they know. I think 1991 in Los Angeles is a very poignant point in history with a lot that happened. We’re going to be able to explore all of that with phenomenal directing. I think with a younger and edgier cast, it will make for an edgier show in the process. This is super exciting because we have phenomenal actors who really get to dig into this stuff that I’m hoping will blow teh doors wide open.

You’re going into filming this show at a time when you’re becoming a dad. Just moved into a new house with Caity still working as well. How are you all preparing for all that? 

It’s a good question. Luckily, I have the best wife in the world. Caity’s mom is going to come to town. My dad’s coming to town. I love working. Working is something that gives me energy. I get to go to work, which I love, and then come home to a family I love. I’m absolutely burning the candle at both ends with this.

[sherlockwatsonh0lmes]

How I met John H. Watson.

So John has his own blog. If he can write I also can do it. I chose this topic for first post becouse this was important day of my life.

I met him on 29th January 2010 year. It was obvious that he was an army doctor. His hair, posture and his coment about how this place change (lab in St. Barts hospital). I was working about some case when he came. But probably Watson will write about that or he has alredy done it. I knew that we would move into 221b Beaker Street. I really was very intrigued by him. (I always has a thing to army man).

When he decided to move in witch me Graham (or Jeff ?) Lestrade came to me witch new case. You all know it as "Study in pink". So i won't get into details. When we end this thing we went to the best chinese restaurant.

I think that Watson won this post about our first met but don't worry I'll practice my blogging.

[vees-wax]

Okay so it’s set in the universe of the Hunger Games but there’s no crossover between the characters (so no actual HG characters appear).

Chris is a victor - the 39th Hunger Games. 15 years old and he makes it home, he wins the hunger games - and it’s still not enough for Celia and Raymond Bean (who are awful parents in every universe). He tries to put himself back together on his own. It doesn’t work, it never works, he keeps trying anyway.

Things improve the year of the 43rd Hunger Games - their district gets a new escort, young and enthusiastic, has a very long and pretentious Capitol name but mostly goes by Annie. She the closest (the first) thing he has to a friend - but they can only see each other during the Games and during the Tour.

The only other victor of his district dies the year between the 44th and 45th Hunger Games. Chris has seen ten children die (from his district alone) since he won. He will see a lot more.

The 47th hunger games. Chris is 23, he’s been a victor for 8 years, he tries not to let the tributes see how little hope he has.

Trevor Watson (age 18 - if he’d been three weeks older he wouldn’t have been eligible for the games that year) wins the 47th Hunger Games - he loses parts of himself he’s not sure he’ll ever get back in the process, and that’s not talking about the eye, the blood dripping down his face as he murders to survive.

But now there are two victors. Two barely more than children who can barely take care of themselves and carry the weight of the world, the weight of each other. It doesn’t get easier, watching kids die every year - but at least they don’t wake from the screaming nightmares alone anymore.

Annie is offered a promotion. She doesn’t take it.

48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53 - they find ways to cope.

54th Hunger Games. Robert. Sixteen years old. Blustering and loud and desperate to share his importance, because what else has he got left. He makes alliances and breaks them, not entirely intentionally but not accidentally either. If Chris and Trevor verre being honest during training, they wouldn’t have given him much hope - but Robert is a survivor- he would do anything to survive. He does do anything to survive. He survives.

Robert has a complication (Robert has many complications. He’s Robert) - but this particular complication is four years old and blonde and answers to the name of Lucy (his niece, his sisters daughter). The games have been running for 54 years. How many times have they seen relatives of victors - especially the well known ones (be it positive or negative) - end up in the arena. Completely coincidentally of course, it would never be intentional.

But a lot more relatives go into the games than come out of them. Chris and Trevor try to explain this to Robert, try to convince him to be quiet, to disappear into the background of the victors, to stop being so *loud*. He’s Robert. Of course he doesn’t listen.

Lucy is six and Robert is eighteen (and Trevor is 27 and Chris and Annie are both 32 - Chris has lived longer as a victor than he had before he was a tribute now, a strange way of looking at his life and the passage of time).

It’s Roberts first time being a mentor - he and Chris go to the games, and Trevor stays in the district for the first time since his own games nearly ten years ago (Chris is too “in charge” to let Robert and Trevor go without him. Trevor has plans to change that for the next year but that’s a multi step plan that will takes months to work through).

Robert goes to the games and leaves behind a sister and a brother in law and a six year old niece. He returns from the games to just the niece.

It was probably an accident. It was plausibly an accident. There’s no proof it was anything but an accident.

It never felt like an accident.

Robert plays the game (the real game - of victors and district and Capitol) better after that, as well as he can. But he’s not perfect, he knows he’s not.

Lucy has just turned thirteen when Robert is left alone at a Capitol party (no Chris, no Trevor, no Annie). He doesn’t *think* he’s done anything but there were more pursed lips than usual after that, and theres a stretch of black nothingness in his memory he can’t account for.

Robert has never been scared of reaping before - as a child himself he never believed it could happen to him, it was something that happened to other children, right up until it did - and by then there was no time, no point in being afraid.

But Lucy is thirteen and so young and he is scared. Not outwardly of course. Never outwardly. He stands on the stage between Chris and Trevor, his eyes focused on the boys so he won’t look for Lucy.

The male tribute is someone he doesn’t recognise, but an older teenager, strong and determined (Lucy is neither of those things - still small and timid and so so shy at thirteen).

Annie pulls out the name of the female tribute.

It is not Lucy.

It is, however, her best friend.

Vanessa.

Like before - It was probably a coincidence. It was plausibly a coincidence . There’s no proof it was anything but a coincidence.

Lucy has lived with Robert in the victors village, two doors down from Chris and Trevor for seven years. Her best friend has come to the house at least six times a week for at least six years. (They don’t go to Vanessa’s house. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with her parents)

She’s thirteen. She’s small. She’s incredibly anxious at the best of times. She stands on the stage, and she’s just so young, and they know they’re going to watch her die.

Robert doesn’t know what he’s done but he knows this is somehow a punishment.

Lucy begs Robert not to let Vanessa die. Robert doesn’t say anything.

The games are short that year (63rd year). It’s a desert arena and something has gone horribly wrong on the game makers end because most the careers are dead by the second day - sand storms and poisonous creatures and other tributes. And somehow Vanessa is alive (somehow. Somehow. Barely. She’s got a concussion. She’s fallen down what’s almost a ravine but it saved her life in the moment.)

One of the most common causes of death in a real desert is drowning. Flash floods mostly.

No one expects the flood to come in the desert. There are only four tributes left after the flood and its only the fourth day. The games are supposed to last at least a week or two.

The flood is gone but the water isn’t. Not really. (The final showdown between the four tributes - all from less common, less popular, less well fed districts) happens in what can best be described as a field of quick sand.

Vanessa somehow lives the longest, and at thirteen becomes the youngest victor of the Hunger Games.

She gets her own house (at thirteen) and her own money (at thirteen) and her own nightmares, her own trauma. She never goes home to see her family, and they never come to see her. She doesn’t go to school anymore, barely leaves her house, and only with multiple people with her. The house is cold all the time, she can’t stand being hot so she’s uncomfortably cold instead. She barely spoke beforehand, her and Lucy, both so shy, so timid. She’s practically mute afterwards. But her games were a failure - at least from the spectacle of things - and (at least for now) she’s allowed to disappear.

But none of that is the story. That’s just the backstory.

The story itself begins in the 68th year, with the reaping of a sixteen year old called Dennis. And well, quite frankly, Max was never going to let that happen.

Why am I plotting out a hunger games AU for the Cornley Drama Society????

[quill-of-thoth]

Letters from Watson, Catching Up

The Gloria Scott part 2:  the fun bits

- Trevor is going out of his way to spend time with his teenage son and his son’s only friend. He’s an involved dad, and that’s both sweet and tragic given that he does not survive this tale. - Holmes is not staying with family during the rest of vacation... or at least, he says he’s staying in “my rooms in london” where he was previously staying on or near campus during the school year, probably. The victorian equivalent of a just-off-campus apartment could fit both living situations, but having to sign a year’s lease, prove months of income, and include a deposit was not really a thing then. He could have moved. It’s possible that he was staying with Mycroft, who is both older than him and likely already starting his london career, but I have no data on that. - Based on his organic chemistry experiments and the fact that Watson’s list of his “limits” in study in scarlet probably includes his courses of study in college and university, I think Holmes intended to become a chemist (NOT a pharmacist, brits, a person who studies chemistry for a living), possibly specifically an organic chemist, before he decided to become a detective.  - Organic chemistry was a fairly new and exciting field at the time: The synthetic dye industry had kicked off in the late 1850′s, when Holmes would have been a child, medicines were being synthesized, and plastics were about to become actually useful. (Holmes would have been exposed to them in his course of study, ACD probably knew a little bit about the first few attempts from his own studies or popular science media because the first plastic, Parkesine, was exhibited at the 1962 International Exhibition in London, where it won the bronze medal.) - He could also have intended to become a pharmacist (chemist, to speakers of UK english) but again. No data to suggest it’s likely. - Back to poor Victor, whose father is dying of apoplexy (stroke) or nervous shock (more vague but probably referring to sudden changes in behavior... read stress, trauma, probably also hypertension given the stroke.) Remember that Victor is still legally a child, with no adult relatives other than his father, and no friends besides Holmes, also a child (even by Baring-Gould’s timeline, though then as now the late teens are socially and legally a transition period into adulthood,) but one living more independently than Victor. He probably seemed very worldly, living on his own in London for the summer! - Hudson follows the pattern of many of the villains of Holmes’ adventures by making the maids at Trevor’s estate feel unsafe via crude language and public drunkenness. If you learn one thing from these stories, it’s that you should sack anyone who makes female servants feel uneasy, no questions asked. Victor doesn’t have any recourse if his father lets Hudson stay, other than physical violence. 

- That “grotesque” letter sure looks less silly now. Especially since it’s a very trivial cypher, which also a feature in these stories, almost always employed by somewhat-organized criminals, almost always ludicrously simple for the severity of the crimes alluded to. Still, the Victorians had SO MUCH correspondence, and the easiest way to hide a cypher is for nobody to think the cyphertext is important. Given the rest of the context, the postmark probably gave Trevor as much information as the message itself.

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff / Reader - The One Where You Punch Tony Stark - Chapter Three

Gif is not mine, but i love it.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 4 ||  Read on AO3 (Complete Work)

Summary:  When the rumors that you punched Tony Stark in the face spread around your school, some interesting events unfolded.

Warnings:  18+; Enemies to Lovers;  Angry Sex; Underage Sex; High School AU;  Violence; Fights;  Inappropriate language; Fluff and Smut; minor mentions of Reader x Carol and Reader x Jessica Jones.

Notes:  This work was already finished on AO3, but i forgot to continue this on Tumblr. I hope everyone who thought that was a one shot, enjoy the rest of it.

-------//---------------------//---------------------------

Chapter Three - Sometimes it’s just a date

You don't like water polo. Actually, you don't like watching the water polo team. 

With next week being finals week, you would like to have a quiet period. But then, the track and field and water polo finals are making the athletes restless, and you have to deal with the excitement of your colleagues around the halls. 

Maybe Natasha is right, you are pretty grumpy when it comes to socializing.

Participation in a sports team is mandatory from the first year on. Principal Thanos had approved this rule as an "incentive to healthy living," and only students with a medical condition could get away with it. You considered falsifying a medical history many times, but eventually you agreed to join the lacrosse team. You kept your performance average, just to maintain your grade. And even when the coach saw potential in you, you told her that you had no interest in participating in the championships. 

And then you were sitting on the team bench, watching your team play on the field while the crowd cheered as you watched. All sports were encouraged, after all, usually all students attended all kinds of games. You watched Natasha wave to you from the stands, and you smiled back. 

You were almost falling asleep, then a chorus of startled exclamations coming from the audience startled you, and you looked quickly at the field.

Your teammate, Gamora, suffered a foul and was being helped off the field by her teammates. You looked down the field with a frown, hoping that she was all right. But then she was taken off the field on a stretcher, her knee bandaged. It didn't take long before the coach came to you and signaled that you were going to have to replace the girl.

Letting out a grumble of protest, you stood up, grabbing the bat the coach offered you, and stepped onto the field.

Your approach to playing was interesting. You were aggressive and impatient, but efficient. You scored three points, and tried not to be bothered by the attention you were getting. And then, when your team won, you tried not to push the girls who jumped on you during the celebration. 

As you joined the team in the locker room, the coach asked to speak to you privately.

- I wanted to say that I was surprised by your performance, but in fact I always knew what you could do. - She commented as soon as you were alone in her room, inside the locker room. You shifted the weight of your feet, awkwardly.

- Thanks, I guess. - You say, and the teacher smiles tenderly at you.

- Tell me, Y/L, do you have plans for college? - she asks, leaning on her desk. 

- Not really, Coach. - You say. - I sent some applications, but after my suspension, I don't think I will have much of a chance.

- You know that something like a position on a regular team can count in your favor. - She comments, and you shrug.

- I have only played in two games so far. - You hit back. She smiles.

- Oh yes, and you performed flawlessly. - She says. - What I'm saying is, I could write you a letter of recommendation. If you commit to play with us until the end of the school year, of course.

You frown, thinking about it. 

- I wouldn't want to take Gamora's place.

The teacher laughs, shrugging her shoulders.

- Don't worry about it, we can arrange the team for you to play together. Besides that, unfortunately Gamora will not participate in at least two games because of her injury. And she will be happy to know that you are helping the team to win.

You nod, putting your hands in your pockets.

- Okay, I'll take it then. - You say. - Only for the letter of recommendation of course. - You joke, and the coach goes to one of the drawers. She pulls out a first team uniform. - This is yours. - She hands it to you. - And please try to control your temper on the field.

The coach winks at you, and you laugh slightly, accepting the uniform. You nod slightly and walk out of the room toward the showers.

- I can't believe you're a jock now! - Natasha jokes when you tell her you joined the team. You laugh, pushing her slightly. You are sitting at the tables in the outdoor cafeteria during the second break.

- Please don't say that. - You say playfully. Nat just smiles, taking a bite out of her snack.

- But anyway. - she says after a moment. - Are you still going to the concert on Saturday?

You let out a sigh and Nat looks at you curiously.

- I'll tell you something, and you promise not to hate me? 

Nat laughs, imitating a promise sign, and you shake your head, smiling.

- Go ahead, say it. You're making me curious. - She asks. You laugh, trying to build up courage.

- I have to tell Carol I'm not interested. - You begin, and Nat raises her eyebrows in surprise. - I'm liking someone else.

- Wow, Jones really got to you? - She assumes, and you laugh, denying it with your head. - Wait, there's a third girl? My God, you're unstoppable.

You laugh ruefully, and Nat follows you. You swallow dryly before speaking and look at the table where you are sitting.

- I am in love with Wanda Maximoff.

Nat lets out a surprised exclamation, and then laughs, thinking you were joking. And then she notices your expression, and widens her eyes in surprise.

- My God, you are serious! - she exclaims. But then she smiles at you, and puts her hand on your forearm. - Hey, I don't have a problem with that. I was just a little surprised.

- Really? - you ask with a sigh of relief. Nat smiles at you.

- Now explain to me how this happened. - She asks, cupping her face in her left hand as she looks at you intently. You take a sip of your soda before speaking.

- Actually, this has been going on for some time. - You confess. - Me and Wanda... well. The first person who knew I liked girls was her. - You tell, and Nat lets out a surprised exclamation, but does not interrupt you. - We have been in the same class since elementary school. When we were in eighth grade, she saw me kissing Mary Jane Watson behind the soccer fields. I asked her not to tell anyone, and she never did. - You say, and Nat listens attentively. - And then she became who she is now, and any interaction we had seemed like we were going to jump around each other's necks at any moment.  - You sighed. - And then, after the soccer game, I gave her an orgasm against the locker room wall.

- Wait, what? - exclaimed Natasha in surprise. - My god, you had sex with Wanda Maximoff? - She practically screamed and you raised your hands and waved for her to keep her voice down. Nat laughed with a mixture of disbelief and excitement. - I can't believe it. I don't even know what to think about it.

You mumbled with embarrassment, looking away.

- Just keep it down, please. - You asked, and Nat laughed. 

- Are you two in some kind of secret relationship now? - she asked, and you laughed ironically.

- Not at all. - You say. - She completely ignored me after that. And then we argued during Ms. Hill's class. 

- Shit, I'm sorry about that. But are you still willing to take this anywhere? Since you are going to dismiss Carol.

You blink slightly, thoughtfully. Then you shrug.

- I'm only going to dismiss Carol because it's not fair to be with her while thinking about another girl. - You explain. - And I don't expect Wanda to want anything to do with me anyway.

- I see. - Nat says, giving you a sad smile. - But I think she would be very stupid to let someone like you slip away.

You smile sadly, and you go back to eating. Before long the break is over, and you share Nat's displeasure at having to go to the health class.

Health classes are awkward. At least now that you and Natasha were friends, you were distracted by her jokes. Professor Wade Wilson was known for his humorous and completely unfiltered attitude during class. He made jokes and pranks, and didn't care much if the students were actually learning something. You remember when you were learning about the effects of alcohol on the body and he brought a bottle of whiskey and shared it among the students. Counselor Fury was not happy at all.

But occasionally you learned very important things in class, like how to clean wounds made in laboratories, for example.

You figured he would follow the programmed curriculum, but you should know better. Wilson came into the room, sat down at his own desk and signaled for everyone to go to their seats. Nat exchanged an amused look with you.

- Good morning, brats. - He said as he took something out of his pocket. The room erupted in giggles and comments as he held up a rubber penis and vagina. - Let's talk about sex today.

- Finally, eh Mr. Wilson! - shouted Tony Stark ironically, causing the class to laugh. You saw him give Pepper Potts a mischievous look, while the girl just smiled and fiddled with her hair. 

- Well, I need to teach you how to put on condoms first. - says the professor with a slight irony in his voice. - Because of course you are all innocent in this matter.

The class laughed, but you were distracted scribbling in your notebook. The professor leaned over to read the attendance list on his desk.

- I need two of you to demonstrate your knowledge to me. - He says. - Stark and Y/L/N come forward please.

Nat nudges you with her elbow and you frown. She nods toward the desk, and Professor Wilson is already looking at you. You mumble a "shit" before getting up and walking to the front of the room.

- Please demonstrate. - He says handing a condom to you and one to Tony, who gives you an angry look, and you roll your eyes. Tony moves toward the plastic vagina, but Wilson laughs, putting his hand in your way. - The other prosthesis, Mr. Stark.

You watch Tony's red cheeks with disbelief, and you also hear the giggles that circulate around the room. Tony quickly opens the condom with his teeth and puts on the rubber penis with his shaking hands. Then he turns to the class, putting his hands in his pockets.

- Who can tell me what Mr. Stark did wrong? - asks the professor, but no one raises their hand. You wonder if people just don't want to say that Tony Stark was wrong, or if they really didn't know. - Really, guys, nobody?

- He bit the package, sir. - You grumble, feeling all the stares on you. Wilson lets out a happy exclamation as he looks at you.

- Yes, exactly, Miss Y/L/N. - He says, looking around the room again. - When you bite the condom wrapper, you can damage the condom, and consequently, take away its effectiveness. The class takes note of the information passed on. - Now, Y/N, please. Demonstrate how to use the female condom.

You let out a sigh, and turn to the table, without preventing other students from seeing what you are doing. Quickly, you open the package and put the condom on the prosthetic.  Professor Wilson lets out a chuckle, congratulating you for handling it correctly, but as you turn around, you hear Tony Stark comment loudly:

- With so much practice in real life, it should be easy. - He says, and the class bursts into giggles. 

- Stark. - The professor says with a scolding tone, but you assume a wry posture.

- Don't be like that, Tony. I'm sure Steve will be happy to let you practice with him. - You fight back, and the laughter swirls around you. 

- Look, here you bitch... - Tony steps forward and the professor stands in front of him, with a serious expression. You think this is the first time you've seen him angry.

- You two come with me immediately.

And so you end up sitting in Nicky Fury's office again, with Tony Stark in the chair next to you. You both stand with your arms crossed and looking straight ahead as Professor Wilson explains the confusion in his class. Fury nods and says that he will handle everything, and the professor gives him an understanding smile before leaving the room.

- I have been waiting to talk to you two. - says Fury as he sits down at his desk. - Who would like to start?

- I have nothing to say. - says Tony in a harsh tone. You want to punch him again.

- That's too bad, Mr. Star. - says Fury. - You will stay here until someone tells me the nature of this conflict.

You let out an irritated snort. 

- I've told you before, Fury. - You say. - Stark is an arrogant piece of shit who has no respect for anyone. 

- You're fucking insane, girl! - Tony cuts you off, and you refuse to look at him. Fury lets out a sigh. 

- Please, I will not tolerate this kind of verbal aggression in my office. - He says. - If you don't answer me, I will simply recommend that you both be expelled.

You and Tony are silent, both with furious expressions. But then you remember the promise you made to the coach, and let out a sigh.

- I punched Tony in the face at his eighteenth birthday party. - You confess, surprising them both. 

A moment passes, and you think Fury is finally going to expel you, but then Tony speaks up next to you.

- I provoked her. - He confesses. You look surprised, and Fury just waits for Tony to clarify. He lets out an impatient sigh before speaking. - I followed her out and said some rude stuff.

Fury is thoughtful for a few minutes, and then he makes some notes in his notebook. You began to drum your fingers against your thigh, uncomfortable.

- Would you like to tell me exactly why you did that Tony? - Fury asked.

Tony let out an impatient grunt. And many moments passed before he spoke again.

- I don't know, okay? - He says, running his hands through his hair nervously. - I only saw her kissing a girl and then I was outside. I didn't want her at my party.

- I should have known you were a homophobic jerk. - You say, and Tony tells you to go fuck yourself. Fury warns you both again.

- Tony, I've heard rumors about your relationship with Mr. Rogers. - Fury begins and Stark straightens his posture, his face red. You think the conversation is getting interesting. - Don't you think, perhaps, your reaction to seeing Miss Y/L/N has something to do with it?

- I don't want to talk about it. - Tony grumbles. You stand there thoughtfully, understanding what Fury meant. He had suggested that the only reason Tony hated you so much, besides being a complete idiot, was because he rejected his own sexuality.

- We're going to talk about this privately, Mr. Star. - Announces Fury. - That will be my last warning to you two. No more fighting. If I hear that you two have renewed conflicts, I will recommend your immediate expulsion.

You and Tony nod, and Fury releases you with a detention card. You grumble, but leave the room, closing the door while Tony and Fury stand talking in private. 

You never imagined that you would see Pietro Maximoff in detention. But when you thought about it, it actually made sense. 

Sitting in the back of the room, you were even more surprised when he looked up at you, and gave you a shy smile. You blinked in surprise and looked away.

Professor Charles Xavier only taught history to the senior year, which left him with many free periods throughout the day, so he was also responsible for the detention class. It worked well, since it seemed that no one could hide anything from her, and detention ended up being quite efficient.

He came into the classroom with a book in his hand, and sat down, staying for many minutes without saying anything at all. And then he asked everyone to pair up, and you looked incredulously at Pietro Maximoff as he sat down in front of you.

- You're kidding me, right? - you said as soon as he arrived. Peter laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

Before Pietro could say anything, Professor Xavier announced that the class should make a short summary of the last subject he taught in class, which drew a disgruntled gasp from the few students present.

You started to take the materials out of the backpack and put them on the table. 

- I wanted to thank you. - Pietro said as the professor sat down. The class was buzzing with murmurs, all the students talking about their work, and Charles didn't seem to care, focused on his book. You looked at Pietro with your eyebrows raised, and he smiled wryly. - For helping me that day.

- It's a natural reaction, Maximoff. - You retort, looking away from him and start writing in your notebook. Pietro chuckles.

- Yeah, I know. - he says. - But still, thank you. The nurse told me that if you hadn't been so quick, I might have had an injury that would have prevented me from playing football.

You shrugged, not knowing what to say. You were silent for a few moments, each concentrated on his summary, and then Pietro stopped writing and you felt him looking at you.

- What is it now? - you asked without taking your eyes off the paper.

- Do you like music? - You raise your eyebrows incredulously as you look at him.

- Everybody likes music, what kind of question is that? 

Pietro laughs awkwardly.

- Sorry, you're right. - he says humorously. - I actually meant, do you know "The Panthers"? They are a rock band. They are playing in town on Saturday and…

- Are you asking me out? - You blink in confusion. Pietro shrugs.

- As a thank you. It's not a date. - He adds quickly when he sees your expression. - I'm going to the show with some friends.

- I'm also going to the show. - You retort, and Pietro assumes a surprised but happy expression.

- Great, we can see each other there then!

- I guess. - You grumble, turning your attention back to the summary. Pietro smiles, and a moment passes before he hands you a small piece of paper with a phone number.

- Text me when you get there. So it'll be easier for us to meet. - he suggested. 

You blinked in surprise, but remembering that Fury had told you to avoid conflict, you just put the paper in your pocket, and you and Pietro finished the exercise. He handed your summaries to the teacher, and sat down in front of you again. You left your hands in your pockets as he turned to you.

- What did you do to be here anyway? - you asked. Pietro stretched out his legs, leaning his back against the wall.

- I followed your lead. - He said humorously, and you frowned uncomprehendingly. He laughed, then clarified. - I punched Tony during practice.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. 

- Wow, I didn't see that one coming. - You say. - May I ask why?

- He said some things about my sister. - Pietro says, locking his jaw as if remembering the conflict. - And then I punched him in the mouth. - He grimaces and imitates the move with his hand, making you laugh slightly.

- What did he say? - You can't help the question from escaping your lips. Pietro doesn't seem to mind though, shrugging his shoulders.

- Stupid comments about her, sex stuff. - he says. - We were training and he decided he was free to talk about her body to everyone on the team.

You swallowed your anger, not wanting to show it to Pietro, choosing only to nod.

- When he does it with other girls is it okay then? - you tease without holding back. Pietro frowns, denying it with his head.

- Of course not. - he says, and straightens up. - Look, I know you have an opinion about me. But I'm not a complete idiot. I don't treat girls that way.

- Oh, right. - You say it with irony. Pietro laughs, knowing exactly what you're talking about.

- I am serious. - he says. - I know what the school says about me. I don't like commitment, and I've been with a lot of girls. But I didn't cheat on any of them. - He clarifies, shrugging his shoulders. - And I don't treat them like objects.

- Congratulations for doing the minimum. - You say a bit harshly, and Pietro laughs. 

You fall silent again, and then Professor Xavier dismisses the class.

Pietro waves and smiles at you as you leave detention, and you think that maybe you have been teleported to a parallel reality.

Carol picks you up at your house. You both put on your leather jackets, and she thinks it' s pretty hot. 

The Panthers' concert is very crowded, and it is held in an open field on the edge of town. When you arrive, Carol holds your hand to lead you to your group of friends. You don't mind.

You hug everyone, and mention that you like Thor's new haircut, who had cut his long hair and was wearing an earring in his left ear. You were talking for several minutes in the food cart area, since the show was going to take a while to start. 

Then Pietro Maximoff saw you and waved excitedly, and his friends looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and incredulity. Natasha laughed softly in your ear before he approached. 

- So glad you could make it! - he said cheerfully. You decided not to mention his choice of clothes, since Pietro came with the team jacket.

- Hi Pietro. - You greet awkwardly, but he looks cheerful, and greets all of your friends with a smile. 

- Hey, you're owls, aren't you? - He says. - I've seen you at state when we played there last year!

Your friends smile and nod politely, and then Pietro looks around, and waves. A group of people join you all next. You feel your body tense up the moment Wanda Maximoff walks up to you, and then a deep irritation hits you as you notice a tall boy with his arms around her. You think you have seen him before in geography class. Also in the group are your classmates Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, and Peter Parker, the last being a freshman. You barely register the words of introduction that Pietro makes, your attention completely on Wanda, who looks surprised and slightly embarrassed to see you. 

Your friends greet Pietro's group, and you look away from Wanda to pay attention to his words.

- If you guys don't mind, can we all stay together? - Pietro suggests, and you want to scream that you can't bear to stand next to the boy holding Wanda without strangling him, but your friends agree, looking excited to interact with new people.

- Let's stay in the north stands, it's better to see. - Said Valkyrie signaling the direction, the group agreed and you started walking. Natasha hugged Clint and gave you a suggestive nod in the direction of Wanda, which made you roll your eyes in humor. And then Carol threw her arm over your shoulder, and you wanted to laugh at the deadly expression Wanda threw at you before looking forward. Carol didn't notice.

When you arrived at the chosen area, you sat down on the grass. The group was well-mixed, and everyone seemed to be talking to each other. You felt Wanda's gaze on your back, but you refused to look at her. Thor and Bucky handed out the snacks that they had bought with the group, and as you drank your soda, you felt Carol's hand on your thigh.

And then she kissed you, and you knew you had to talk to her. You asked her to walk with you, and you walked back to the entrance of the show, which was now completely empty. 

It was quick, and impressive easy. Carol smiled and said that everything was fine, and said again that you never made promises to each other. She gave you a kiss on the cheek and went back to the group. You told her you would buy some candy before you went back.

When you reached the snack bar area, someone pulled you behind a pillar.

- I want to talk to you. - Wanda said angrily. You rolled your eyes impatiently, putting distance between your bodies.

- I'm all ears. - You said with irony.

- I don't want you dating anyone else.

You let out an incredulous laugh. 

- You've got to be kidding me. - You spoke in anger. - Are you even listening to what you're saying now?

- Why are you going out with that girl? - Wanda asks in the same tone.

- You're a damn hypocrite, you know that? -You accuse her, moving closer. -Wanting to impose demands when you're having sex with that jerk.

Wanda rolls her eyes, and you think you might explode with rage. And then you grab her around the waist and push her against the pillar behind her. Wanda lets out a surprised exclamation and her gaze falls directly to your mouth.

- You think I don't know how you feel, don't you, Wanda? - You whisper, looking at her with a mixture of seriousness and desire. - Tell me, do you pretend it's me touching you when you're with him?

Wanda lets out a sigh, but lifts her head, not responding. You let out a wry laugh, and then you press your knee firmly against her core, and she shivers and lets out a low groan, closing her eyes tightly.

- Don't forget to moan my name tonight. - You say it against her ear, and then let go.

You walk back to the group, feeling hot and bothered. You exchange a look with Natasha, but say nothing. 

Wanda comes back a little later, and during the entire show, you feel her looking at you.

You refuse Carol's ride when the show ends. She waves with a smile, and leaves. And then you wave goodbye to everyone, and decide to leave by bus. You liked public transportation because it helped you to think while you looked out the window.

- Be careful, troublemaker. - asks Nat as she gives you a hug goodbye. She is sleeping at Bruce's house and will not accompany you on the way back. 

Pietro has had a few too many beers, and gives you a tight hug when he says goodbye, saying that the night was incredible. You laugh at his reaction. You don't say goodbye to Wanda.

And then you are walking to the bus stop, with your headphones on, and you almost stumble in shock when you feel someone touching your shoulder.

- Fuck, girl! - You complain as you turn around. - What is it now?- Go on a date with me. - Wanda says looking at you.

- What?

- Go on a date with me. - She repeats, smiling. 

You blush, and look down at the floor, suddenly feeling very warm. You wave your hands inside your jacket pockets.

- Now?

Wanda nods, and you bite back a smile on your lips.

- Okay. - You agree.

You turn and sit down at the bus stop. Wanda sits quietly next to you. You raise your hand and take out one of your headphones, offering it to Wanda. She smiles when she accepts, and you listen to some music together while you wait for the bus.

Since the vast majority of places in town were closed at this time, you took Wanda to a place that wouldn't be.

When you worked at the junkyard, you discovered many interesting places when you had to pick up equipment for your boss. One of these places was the city's port.

You knew that there was a secluded area of the municipal harbor with an incredible view of the sea, and so you guided Wanda through the bars and down the concrete path. You sat on the edge, your feet dangling a few feet from the ocean below.

- How did you find this place? - she asks, staring at the landscape. 

- Working at the junkyard made me explore the city. - You answer also looking straight ahead.

You are silent for a moment before you ask:

- What should we talk about, Wanda?

- Anything. - She says. - Or nothing at all.

You smile.

- I don't know what is going on between us. - You confess, and Wanda lets out a sigh.

She says nothing and you almost give up trying to talk about your relationship, and then she puts her hand on top of yours, looking at the ocean in front of you. 

- I'll tell you one thing, and you promise not to freak out, okay? - she asks, and you nod.

Wanda looks down at her own lap, and takes a deep breath, as if she is taking courage. 

- I think I'm in love with you. - She confesses, and you feel your heart race. - It's been a while, actually. I guess I just realized it now.

- How long?

- Do you remember when I saw you kissing Mary Watson in the eighth grade? - She asks and you nod. - I just... I didn't know why it bothered me. And then, you told me to keep it a secret and I got so jealous that every time I saw you I just wanted to slap you. And then we started to fight and I pushed all the feelings aside hoping they would go away. And then game night happened.

You remained silent as you absorbed Wanda's words. She spoke again before you could.

- Damn, I know this is a lot to absolve. - She says. - I understand if you just want sex. Or if you'd rather not talk to me anymore.

You interrupt her monologue with a kiss on the lips, which makes her gasp. But you pull away, smiling shyly at her.

- I'm in love with you too, Wanda. - You confess, and watch Wanda's cheeks turn red.

Wanda brings your mouths together again, and you kiss her intensely. You giggle with relief and happiness, and then Wanda hugs you around the neck, and you let your arms wrap around her tightly, sinking into her body heat as you close your eyes. 

You hold each other for long minutes, until you break the embrace to look at Wanda tenderly. You find her to be the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. Running your fingers over her face, you smile tenderly.

- What will happen now? - you ask, and try not to be intimidated by Wanda's hesitation.

- I don't know. - She says. - I want to be with you.

- Are you ready to admit this to everyone?

Wanda closes her eyes for a moment, and you think she is going to deny it. But then she nods in agreement, and you feel a new surge of excitement hit you. 

You let out a relieved laugh, and kiss Wanda's cheek, pulling her into a hug. She giggles against your grip. You then settle down, sitting side by side as you put an arm around her shoulders and she leans her head on your chest. Wanda intertwines your hands in her lap as you gaze out over the ocean in front of you.

- Do you really think Darcy and Elizabeth wouldn't be together? - she asks, and you laugh, not moving away. 

- Actually, I just disagreed with you, because you're hot when you're mad. - You joked, making her laugh. 

The night went by quickly after that. You and Wanda cuddled while talking about various random subjects. You watched the sunset together, and she kissed you hard before getting on the bus to her house.

[letarasstuff]

You are not gonna meet them

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you all enjoy it :)

Summary: How will their beloved intern react, when the BAU is able to profile that she is seeing someone?

Warnings: One swear word (for the sake of a vine reference)

Wordcount: 1.2k

✨Masterlist✨

__________________________________

“What is their name?” Confused (Y/N) takes her eyes off the cup of her favorite hot beverage. To make sure Derek really speaks to her, she turns around in the breakroom. It’s only the two of them. “Whose name? I’m (Y/N), but Derek I work here for two months already. Aren’t you a little too young to suffer from Alzheimer’s yet?”

He laughs into his own cup before taking a sip. “You are seeing someone. Don’t try to hide that from a bunch of profilers, there is no use in that.”

Being the ever stoic and mature teenager, she sticks her tongue out. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m the CEO of being an open book. But spill your tea about your deductions, Sherlock.”

“As you wish, Watson. You are wearing tinted lip balm instead of your usual clear lip balm. I saw you reapplying it after you dropped off some files in Hotch’s office. Also you have a new hairstyle, which looks quite nice on you. In addition to that you wear a bottom up and I saw you wearing one only once and that was when you had to dress up for an undercover thing. Therefore I come to the conclusion that this is your definition of dressing up and I see no reason for it except you want to impress someone and I know for a fact that everybody in this building is too old for you. So, what’s their name?”

“Whatever”, (Y/N) breathes under her breath and makes an effort to escape this interrogation. But Spencer, who also decided it’s time for the trillions refill of his cup of sugar with a drop of coffee, stands in the doorway. “Spencer, can you please step aside? I have work to do”, she asks him sighing. But the genius doesn’t bulge.

(Y/N) looks dumbfounded at her coworker and friend. “I- that was pretty good. But you haven’t considered that I may have a meeting with our dear Section Chief regarding my future in the FBI.” At the end she smiles, thinking she has won this round. “I did”, Morgan answers, wiping the grin from her face, “ and I know again for a fact that this meeting is next week, because Hotch is seeing her today to talk about that subject. So, what are they like?”

“Oh, does our favorite intern have a love interest? (Y/N), why didn’t you tell me anything?” Emily asks as she enters the breakroom. “No, I don-” “Princess, I told you it isn’t possible to lie to us. We are basically human lie detectors.”

“I heard tea and I want you to spill it.” He says, proud to put the phrase she taught him a while ago in the right context. “There is not tea, just a lame glass of water”, (Y/N) responds and squeezes past him. The three profilers look at each other in confusion. Attracted by her confounding statement, they follow her to her desk.

“Why are you stalking the child?” Rossi asks with Hotch hot on his heels. “(Y/N) is seeing someone, but isn’t willing to tell us anything about them. Now we try to pry every bit of information from her”, Spencer explains.

The talked about subject sits at her desk, acting like nothing just occurred while going through some reports. “Are you talking about her crush?” JJ joins the group observation. Everybody looks at her in shock. “What do you know about this?” Derek may be a bit overprotective over his favorite princess.

“Probably not more than you. I just saw her smiling down at her phone and I didn’t spot a cute dog or cat picture so I figured it has to be an important someone”, JJ explains whilst shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t like this guessing. Why don’t we just ask her?” Rossi is up and goes to (Y/N), the calls of his team members falling on deaf ears.

As the teenager hears the oncoming footsteps, she lifts her head and spies the older Italian. “Not you, too.” A groan leaves her lips while rubbing her forehead in distress. “Bambi, think of it as that: The earlier you confess to your lies, the earlier your conscience is lifted. So tell us about them, will you?”

The rest of the team inches closer to the duo, while (Y/N) contemplates her choices. “Well that is interesting. But what’s also interesting is: I don’t give a shit” Confused by her unusual speech pattern, Rossi throws a pointy glance towards her.

“Fine”, she once again sighs, knowing there is no other way to escape this situation. Not even the teenager’s sarcasm or pop culture can help her anymore.

Eagerly the team crowds around her desk, even Hotch is ready to get some good tea served. “I met them on the bus. Since I started here we rode the same bus every morning and afternoon. Their hair was the first thing I noticed about them. After a month I worked up the courage to talk to them.”

“And?” Morgan asks as (Y/N) doesn’t continue for several minutes. “I chickened out. No cap. But they chatted me up the next day and we are texting each other for several weeks now and we maybe have kind of our first date tomorrow and see each other for the last time today before the date and I want to leave a lasting impression maybe?” At the end she turns red. Like legit red, with tomato ears and stuff.

A loud squeal is heard. “OMG (Y/N) THIS IS SO CUTE I LITERALLY AM DEAD! OUR BABY IS FEELING LOOOOOVE! CLAP THOSE CHEEKS!” Although it seems impossible, she turns even redder at Penelope’s outburst.

“Ok, princess. I’m happy for you, but we need to meet them before you go with them anywhere. How old are they? What do they do for a living? What is their name? Garcia needs to make a background check”, Derek swivels her chair in his direction, looking the girl straight in the eye to make sure he is dead serious.

“Do they read? Emilia Clarke once said to never trust anybody, whose TV is bigger than their bookshelf, and I recommend you to follow that advice”, Spencer adds. “Can we help get you ready? I wanted to do a makeover for you for ages already”, Penelope throws in. JJ and Emily nod at that, showing that they too want to participate in this.

“Are you sure they are not basic, Bambi?” “Oh, Rossi. Never say that again. You are not allowed to talk like ever. Yes, I’m sure they got a cake and an even bigger heart. Before you also say anything complete out of line, Hotch: You all aren’t allowed to see them before I’m completely sure. Period. No complains.”

It’s safe to say that Aaron just needs to flash his doe eyes to convince (Y/N) that they indeed will meet their date before they go out together. I mean, who is better at delivering The Talk to a date than a bunch of (intimidating) profilers and a (even more intimidating) tech goddess?

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

[padawanlost]

Something I've noticed recently over the past few months is this trend where people have been diagnosing Anakin with narcissistic personality disorder instead of C-PTSD or BPD, the more commonly seen diagnoses. I personally disagree, but I wanted to hear your "two sense" on the matter if you will, you're one of the best meta-writers on this site.

It’s because people don’t like Anakin as presented on screen. They want Anakin to be as selfish and arrogant as possible so they can blame him from everything that happened. If it’s ALL about Anakin than everyone else can be left off the hook. 

Anakin ‘I don’t want to be a problem’ Skywalker is clearly narcissistic. I mean, he fits all the signs:

Have a sense of entitlement and require constant, excessive admiration

“Ten years in this place, and still he was an object of interest. Of speculation. All their hopes and dreams hanging on him like decorations on a bantha skeleton at Boonta Eve. He hated it.” [Clone Wars: Wild space, Karen Miller]

Have an exaggerated sense of self-importance

“You would forgo your destiny for Padmé?” Anakin’s brows beetled in anger. “I never claimed to be the Chosen One. That was Qui-Gon. Even the Council doesn’t believe it anymore, so why should you?” [ James Luceno. Labyrinth of Evil]

Expect to be recognized as superior even without achievements that warrant it

Anakin bumped his hand against [Obi-wan]. “Wait. Just—wait.” Embarrassed, he took a deep breath. “Look. Don’t take this the wrong way. It’s just—it’s the mission, right? That’s what matters. So—”  “Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s whisper sounded amused. “It’s fine. I was about to suggest it myself when the droids turned up.”  “You were?”  “Play to your strengths and minimize your weaknesses. That’s how a battle is won. That’s how we’ll win the war.”  Anakin had to smile. I should’ve known he wouldn’t take it personally. “Yeah. So—once I’m up and over and nobody raises the alarm, give me a five-count then follow. I’ll give you the best Force boost I can. Not that you’ll need much. Your leap was only a meter and a half behind Master Windu’s. Remember?”  Obi-Wan gave a breathy chuckle. “I remember I had nosebleeds for a week afterward. Don’t ever feel bad for being extraordinary, Anakin. Now off you go. We don’t have all night.” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Take advantage of others to get what they want

“He thought of how unflinchingly loyal Anakin was to anyone he considered a friend.” [Matthew Stover’s Revenge of the Sith]

Exaggerate achievements and talents

He was the Chosen One, they told him. He was supposed to bring balance to the Force. Anakin thought that some little extra support might go with being the Chosen One, a helping hand or at least some understanding from the Jedi Council, but instead he was passed around like an unwelcome burden, ending up with Qui-Gon Jinn and then Kenobi because nobody else would have him. His chosen status meant less than nothing; it felt more like a stigma. And they wondered why he was difficult at times. Maybe they didn’t want balance, whatever that was. Maybe nobody liked a Jedi who was that different. He felt like an embarrassment to them. I do everything you ask of me. I try so hard. When is it going to be enough? When are you going to say, “Okay, Anakin Skywalker, you’re good enough”? Karen Traviss’s The Clone Wars

Be preoccupied with fantasies about success, power, brilliance, beauty or the perfect mate

Impatience. Concern. Relief. Loneliness. Weariness. And grief, not yet healed. Such a muddle of emotions. Such a weight on [Anakin]’s shoulders. Months of brutal battle had left [Ahsoka] drained and nearly numb, but it was worse for Anakin. He was a Jedi general with countless lives entrusted to his care, and every life damaged or lost he counted as a personal failure. For other people he found forgiveness; for himself there was none. For himself there was only anger at not meeting his own exacting standards. [Karen Miller’s Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Believe they are superior and can only associate with equally special people

It’s not just Skywalker’s rank that makes us give him one hundred percent. It’s because he treats us with respect, and he puts himself on the line with us.” [The Clone Wars by Karen Traviss]

Monopolize conversations and belittle or look down on people they perceive as inferior

Having worked their way around the village, finding nothing to wake their uneasily sleeping sense of alarm, Obi-Wan and Anakin returned to the beaten-dirt square and the charter house. Its doors were open now and a woman who had to be Teeba Brandeh stood on the broad step, hands on her narrow hips, watching the children scatter across the square to play a proper game of kickball. Grinning, without bothering to ask if he might, or if it were wise, or if they had the time to spare, so independent these days, Anakin jogged to join them. After a moment’s amazed hesitation the children welcomed him with squeals of delight, rough-and-tumbled him into their midst and made him one of their own. Obi-Wan shook his head. “He’s nice,” said the girl with the bracelet and the ragged hair, wandering over to stand beside him. “Don’t be cross with him, Teeb Yavid.” Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Siege

“Oh, no,” said Anakin, grinning. “It was fun too.”  May the Force give me strength. “And that business with the boy? Because when I said no heavy lifting I—” Anakin’s amusement vanished.  “He wasn’t heavy. These younglings are skin and bone. I look at them and—” He clenched his jaw.  ”Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Siege

Expect special favors and unquestioning compliance with their expectations

[Anakin] did not like the fact that he had won. It seemed wrong that he had stepped so far out of line, and yet had been retained as a Padawan. He did not like the unease this victory, if victory it was, produced in him. Above all weaknesses, arrogance was the most costly. They keep me here because I have potential they’ve never seen before. They keep me in training because they’re curious to see what I can do. I feel like a rich man who never knows whether his friends are true-or whether they just want his money. This was a particularly galling thought, and certainly neither true nor fair. Why do they put up with me, then? Why do I keep testing them? [Greg Bear’s Rogue Planet]

Have an inability or unwillingness to recognize the needs and feelings of others

“I’m sorry. I’m not normally this stupid. I just—” And then she felt her face crumple and heard herself sob. Her knees buckled and she began to sink toward the floor. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she choked. “Don’t mind me. I’m fine.” [Anakin] caught her before she tumbled completely. Lifted her without effort and carried her to the sofa. Boneless and unprotesting, she let him. Let her face turn to his roughly shirted, dirty chest and howled her rage and shame against him. Dimly, she felt his hand warm and comforting on her back and heard his soft voice saying, over and over, “It’s all right. It’s all right. You’re safe now. It’s all right.” The crazy thing was that she did feel safe. For the first time since those Separatist blaster bolts seared the air and sand of Niriktavi Bay, since she saw her friends and colleagues slaughtered, she felt safe. Then, abruptly, she felt mortified. What was she doing? Weeping like a child all over a man young enough to be her son? Where was her pride? She shifted away from him, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry.” “Don’t apologize,” he said gently. “You’ve got a right to be upset. Now, where’s that medkit?”Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth 

Be envious of others and believe others envy them

The Jedi Council didn’t want me, either. Being the Chosen One didn’t count for anything. Master Yoda wouldn’t train me, or Windu. Every member of the Jedi Council had had something more pressing to do than help him work out what this terrible, galaxy-changing power of his meant, and how he should live in its shadow. He still wasn’t sure. Anakin recalled standing there in that grand, polished Jedi Council Chamber, surrounded by what felt like fear, and disdain, and bewilderment—who were those Masters to feel bewildered, that the only person there who cared if he lived or died was Master Qui-Gon Jinn.  [Karen Traviss. The Clone Wars]

[Anakin] had worried that Obi-Wan did not have room for him in his heart. But Shmi’s smile rose in Anakin’s mind. Hearts have infinite room, my son. JUDE WATSON’S THE TRAIL OF THE JEDI

Behave in an arrogant or haughty manner, coming across as conceited, boastful and pretentious

The fear and dread in her face eased, just a little. “You’re a very sweet young man, Anakin Skywalker.” [Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

[Anakin] humbles me, sometimes. He makes me feel small. He can’t see a broken thing without wanting to fix it. [Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

“I don’t know,” she said, floundering. “I can’t say I’ve ever given the Jedi much thought. I mean, not as individuals. I never expected to meet one—let alone two. I don’t tend to go places where your skills are needed. But—well—you’re gentle.” [Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Insist on having the best of everything — for instance, the best car or office

“I’m not giving him to you,” [Anakin]’d told her. “He’s not even really mine to give; when I built him, I was a slave, and everything I did belonged to Watto. Cliegg Lars bought him along with my mother; Owen gave him back to me, but I’m a Jedi. I have renounced possessions. I guess that means he’s free now. What I’m really doing is asking you to look after him for me.”  “Look after him?”  “Yes. Maybe even give him a job. He’s a little fussy,” he’d admitted, “and maybe I shouldn’t have given him quite so much self-consciousness—he’s a worrier—but he’s very smart, and he might be a real help to a big-time diplomat … like, say, a Senator from Naboo?”Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith 

[jabbage]

My Favourite Fanfics

2022 was the year I discovered fanfiction that I enjoyed reading, and I thought I'd share my mountain of fics that really stood out to me!

Jeeves and Wooster

Green Ice - Jeeves and Wooster & Lord Peter Wimsey

I'm hesitant to explain why I like this fic so much. It was 'spoiled' for me before I read it, and I wonder what the experience would have been like if I hadn't known where it was going ahead of time. So, perhaps I'll just say that it uses Bertie Wooster's position as possible unreliable narrator to add a really interesting dimension to his character and explore an aspect of note about the Jeeves and Wooster universe, and does so within a rip-roaring mystery which feels very authentic. AND Peter Wimsey is in it!

The War of the Worlds and All That - Jeeves and Wooster

In which Jeeves and Wooster thwart an alien invasion. Which is an utterly bonkers idea, somehow pulled off because said invasion hinges around the exact kind of dilemma which is entirely commonplace in Bertie Wooster's life. I was absolutely hooting with laughter throughout this whole thing.

Sherlock Holmes

The Craven Hive - Meticulously researched and textually deep historical pastiche with some absolutely beautiful character moments. Dr Watson returns from his war service and decides to assist in the treatment of shellshocked soliders. Of course when danger is at hand, he has to call in his old friend...

The Unsinkable Ship - Another meticulously researched piece. Holmes and Watson end up on board the Titanic. Much of the work is the pair going around exploring the ship, talking to each other and their fellow passengers (often real people), and dealing with navigating retirement together. They have such an old married couple vibe in this. Oh, and then the ship gets struck by an iceberg.

The Afterlife of Dr John H Watson - Good grief thing thing is absolute exquisite torture and I've read it I don't know how many times. Has entirely changed how I read 'The Blanched Soldier' and 'The Lion's Mane'. I get very very bored at 'kissy stuff' in stories, but the pivotal kiss in this GOT ME BAD.

The Taste of Truth - Delicious dark fantasy. If Neil Gaiman had written it, it would have won a Nebula.

Grit in the Sensor - Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century - Ok ok just hear me out on this one.... Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century is a very fun but silly Saturday Morning Cartoon which had a wealth of absolutely dynamite sci-fi concepts bubbling below the surface which it didn't ever address. One of these is that there is a robot who appears to have gained sentience by reading Watson's work. This fic unpacks that concept in a beautiful heartfelt way. It's narrated from Robot Watson's point of view, which leads to a delightful mixture of 19th century patois with machine logic.

Fullmetal Alchemist

Of Skulls and Secrets - I really enjoy it when people bring in the very bonkers real life history of alchemy into FMA stories, and this piece honestly feels like it could have been an extra chapter or OVA.

FMA Beyond - I don't know what to tell you. It's like Hiromu Arakawa wrote and illustrated more Fullmetal Alchemist. I got tingles when I started reading it. It gets Al right, which is always important to me :D

Others

Ciel D'Oro - The Name of the Rose

I can't believe somebody wrote a very decent sequel to The Name of the Rose and it's on Ao3 and you can read it for free.

Mister Vimes'd Go Spare - Discworld

If you were to tell me that this was actually written by Terry Pratchett, I would believe you. In my heart, this is what happened to Sam Vimes in the end.

A Man from the Stars - Doctor Who

Officially set my mind to rest about poor Joan Redfern.

Sing Down the Stars - The Chronicles of Narnia

Very beautiful reflection on Rilian from The Silver Chair ***

That's it for now! I'm sure I'll keep adding to this as I read more stuff :D

[melon-kiss]

This is just going to be a ramble about everything Sherlock. You’re most welcome to discuss or just ignore it. I needed the space to vent.

I watched Sherlock. Again. I think it’s beginning to become my annual tradition. And I have a crisis. Don’t get me wrong, I am always Sherlollian at heart. It’s just… I have doubts sometimes. And what triggered those doubts this time was the fact that Sherlock calls Molly “John”. Twice. And then Irene Adler. And then one post on Tumblr. And many, many more.

OK, these are just my random thoughts. Enjoy if you’re willing to read them.

 1. “John”. “Molly”.

We often mix up names of people we consider to have the same place in our lives. Which is good, right? Right. Only, in Sherlock’s case, we’d have lean into the theory that Sherlock does love John romantically and feels the same way about Molly. Or concede the fact that he loves them both platonically. Neither of these options is really satisfying, isn’t it? Well, that’s why I’m struggling… One could say he’s in denial of feelings for Molly and identifies them as friendship, as this is the strongest, purest relationship in his life, the only one he describes as emotional and the closest he’s ever had to love. Besides, Molly and John are similar in one way – they both share the same – medical – knowledge. Of course, Sherlock doesn’t realise her other qualities until The Reichenbach Fall when she says she can help him whenever he needs it. It’s not until she’s honest with him again and tells him, without a shred of grudge, that she knows she means nothing to him, that he realises he has at least two friends. He calls her “John” when his mind is busy with something else, so there’s no room for any purposeful confusion. The same thing happens in The Empty Hearse. What else can it mean if not friendship?

 2. Nothing Hits Like Irene

Irene Adler is created as the love interest for Sherlock. Is she, though? Well, we see Sherlock utterly confused upon their first meeting. We also see him flirting and creating an atmosphere of sexual tension for the first time. OK, he saves her but then she vanishes, he got over her, I thought. And all was fine until The Lying Detective came and Irene Adler sent a text to Sherlock, first in such a long time. John, of course, suggests that if Sherlock should be romantically involved with anyone, it should be her. And then it hit me.

Irene Adler is the symbol of chemistry in Sherlock’s life.

She’s a dominatrix. She’s all about sex, that’s obvious. At the critical point of The Scandal in Belgravia Sherlock says: I believe John Watson thinks love’s a mystery for me but the chemistry is incredibly simple and very distractive. Sherlock discovers that he, indeed, can have chemistry with people. He doesn’t mention love, he merely says sentiment, referring to the crush Irene Adler had on him. She is, indeed, a simple distraction – you can see it clearly in his memory palace when he yells at her to get away. But Molly… Molly stays. She leads him through the entire process of surviving a shot.

And then Irene Adler returns in The Lying Detective. John confesses to Sherlock about texting with a stranger met on the bus. And that he wanted more. Sherlock says everyone gets to be human sometimes. Even he can’t resist the urge of replying to Irene Adler sometimes. It was all about attraction again.

And that’s why she’s not considered a romantic relationship in his life. John rambles about love changing him, to be more specific, the love of his woman changing him. But he says Irene’s a dangerous criminal. How would that change Sherlock in any way?

In The Final Problem, upon deducing the coffin, John suggests Irene Adler but she’s not his first thought in general once they all hear that this is about someone who loves Sherlock. Sherlock’s response is very telling: Don’t be ridiculous. Look at the coffin. It seems like Sherlock pieces the puzzle at once – the coffin, plus the “name” on the lid – it couldn’t have been Irene Adler.

And that’s why Sherlock calls her The Woman. As a symbol of his sexuality. The Woman who’s woken up certain impulses in his life.

 3. Makeshift Gauge

Who is she?, Sherlock asks John in His Last Vow.

Based on what Mofftiss duo said about Molly, she was supposed to be featured in two episodes top. Yet, she stayed. The uncanonical character not only stayed but became fans’ favourite. I think she became a useful tool for Moffat and Gatiss. I think that not only she represents Sherlock heart (of which existence he has no idea at first) but later becomes our makeshift gauge. For what? For measuring Sherlock’s progress. See, it’s like when you live with someone, you don’t notice when they put on weight or grew a little but those who see less of them will notice all changes right away. So, when Sherlock runs around with John, we don’t notice the change in his behaviour at once (also because he’s always been nice to him, from the very beginning), we need to focus to see that. But Molly pops by once per episode and we see how Sherlock’s perception changes. In season one, he has good intentions, but they turn out bad. In season two, he’s more neutral but doesn’t restrain himself from rude comments. And Molly is being Molly – tells him he’s rude in her natural, soft way and he says sorry. For the first time. Without anyone making him do that. Almost the same happens in The Reichenbach Fall – but this time, Molly doesn’t let herself be fooled by Sherlock’s arrogance and just ignores it, going straight to the point. She says: “I’m here for you” and lowers his defences. In season three, he spends an entire day with her, smiles at her and is the sweetest, softest Sherlock we’ve ever seen. Moreover, when Lestrade asks him about her helping him solve cases, he says: [John] is not in the picture anymore, implying that she not necessarily had to be a temporary replacement. In season four, he says I love you to her.

What can we deduce about his heart?

 4. The Eurus Conundrum

We could write an entire book about Eurus and not even be able to grasp her spirit. I’m not going to do that right now.

I have issues with what happened in season four finale. I mean – Molly, of course. Mycroft says Eurus and Jim Moriarty met five years ago, so before Moriarty revealed himself to Sherlock. They both planned the entire game for Sherlock. Does that mean Sherlock never really won with him? Does that mean Moriarty let him use Molly to “win”? Since she was included in Eurus’ plan, we can safely assume Jim knew about Molly back then. At first, when I saw Moriarty saying We both know that’s not quite true [that you don’t have a heart] in many Sherlolly fanvids, I was like naaaaah. He didn’t see her as one of the important people in Sherlock’s life, it couldn’t have been a reference to their meeting. But now… how deeply back in time was Eurus’ plan allocated? Which events did she predict?

Or maybe I’m missing something? Any thoughts on this?

 5. Sherlock Evergreen

I once came across a post here, about how BBC Sherlock is literature, about sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s struggle with his own genius character. He was over with him, didn’t feel like writing any more of his stories so he killed him, but fans demanded more. He kept writing, although he hated it from the bottom of his heart. Season four, so often considered as the worst of all of them, is a way of saying that Sherlock character is, unfortunately, invincible. Immortal. He will live forever. We can’t kill him, no one can. Even his creator couldn’t have done it.

In season four, Sherlock goes back to the start. He is a clean slate again. He went through the entire process of change – became a good Sherlock, considerate of other people’s feelings and emotions, appreciative, supportive, loving, ready to mend what he broke. That interpretation, although very good, kind of killed my Sherlolly spirit. But I guess every interpretation like this would do it. If we stop treating characters like real human being, we’re left with what they really are – a construct, tools, puppets in the author’s hands.

Based on this, I think we’re safe to say there will never be a fifth season of BBC Sherlock (gosh, how I wish I was wrong!). Why? Because, despite what Moffat said in an interview once (after season three finale he said they’ve plotted out the entire fourth and fifth season – liar, liar, pants on fire!), season four had the perfect ending. As mentioned above, Sherlock became a good man and Mary Watson summed up what Sherlock is all about: two man, a genius junkie and a former soldier, who solve the weirdest, the toughest of cases together in flat on 221B Baker Street. Now, Sherlock is ready to be taken over by other artists who may find a new way to tell his story (though, I don’t think so) all over again.

And that’s a big, big shame… I think I speak for at least most of Sherlollians when I say we’d like to see Sherlock and Molly’s first encounter after the call. The finale really closed all the story arcs and subplots, except for this one. I mean, c’mon. You don’t have to be a Sherlollian to be annoyed by this – just remember that it was such a “biggie” that Moffat was asked about this in an interview. And this may be another reason as to why we won’t ever get a fifth season of Sherlock – because that would mean taking a side. And none of the creators will do it because Sherlock cannot be an open-and-shut case. It has to be like literature: big, open, twisted, unclear and full of room for interpretation. As long as there’s no certain explanation – yes, Sherlock loves Molly, no, Sherlock is gay – we create more and more content out of the need of closure. Thanks to the room for interpretation, the story lives. I mean, it’s been four years since The Final Problem airing and here I am, discussing BBC Sherlock still.

 Coming back to Sherlolly… don’t worry. Though I’m still not sure that we can harvest any hard evidence for Sherlock’s feelings for Molly (other than friendship and respect), I’m still a Sherlollian. There two new fics waiting for me to pull myself together and write them. I think it’s good to have doubts – it means my brain hasn’t rotten yet and I can still be critical, I’m able of having my own opinions.

 Thank you if you managed to read it all! I’d love to discuss if you have any conclusions. If not, that’s fine, too. I just needed it get it out of my system.

PS WHY DOES MY POSTS IN ENGLISH SOUND SO SOPHISTICATED IN MY HEAD BUT WHEN I PUT THEM IN WRITING, THEY’RE SO SHITTY?!

[razberrypuck]

What if Ran lived in Mizu

What if Ran and Ranbob were related somehow (like cousins or smth) and were both decendants of Ranboo

What if Ran was the first one Ranbob told about Dream's secret idol room, and Ran thought it was kinda weird but it wasn't hurting anyone so he didn't say anything about it.

And Ran noticed Ranbob starting to act weird, and his memory getting worse and worse, and he tried asking if he was okay, but Ranbob just brushed it off.

When Ranbob eventually started attacking the other people in Mizu, Ran tried to defend everyone else, and Ranbob fucked his arm up big time, and thank god he was distracted long enough for Ran to get away. Ran sealed the exit shut because he couldn't have Ranbob getting out, and the door wasn't designed to be unlocked from the inside. Ran left Mizu entirely and ended up having to get his arm replaced (bc that is, in fact, a prosthetic robot arm on his skin).

He joins this thing called "The Syndicate" (because I like that hc and also the "this place is going down anyway" line)

A year or so later, the events of The Pit takes place. Ran and Watson are the only contestants that survived other than Jackie, who won, and they run off before they're spotted. Watson joins the syndicate but that's not important to my ramblings

And a year after that, the Lost City of Mizu happens. And with the deaths of the fishermen comes the day Ranbob can finally leave the city :)

[anamarialujan]

Episode 6 Random Thoughts

This episode was so intense that I feel like it hit me and then it kicked me to the ground. How many emotions together!

I can't find anything bad so everything will be classified as good. It has really been the best episode of the season for me!

Some quick topics:

-Violet, oh Violet, you have me a little tired. And when I say a little, I mean A LOT.

-I have a doubt that I can't get out of my head: the widower (God, why does this guy keep showing up here?) makes a donation of 100 pounds because he is a millionaire or almost a millionaire, and that sum of money seems to be something very important . But when Shelagh left the Order, she received 100 pounds and it seemed like little money. What happened in those years? Did the money change in value? The millionaire widower is not really donating much? Was Shelagh a millionaire?

-I had to watch again 2x08 to corroborate exactly how much money Shelagh received and oh, the music. In very important scenes (like Shelagh signing the papers) there is no music, and that makes the scene so powerful. I know I'm bored with this, but why is there so much music in recent seasons??? STOPPPP

Now I go with other more important things that hit me right in the heart:

-Poor, poor Mrs Watson. What a terrible life, and she still thinks her husband loves her. How important it is when you are so helpless to have people who do not judge, do not threaten, and do what they can to help you. Trixie and Patrick here really worked with their hearts and that's why I love them.

-Sarita, oh sweetheart. I knew about the Partition, we studied it at university, but I didn't know to what extent it hurt people. How important it is to make this visible.

-Sister Frances has won my heart in a way that even impacts me. Seriously, what a wonderful season for this wonderful character. She is sweet, studious, empathetic, funny, and she is even more and more encouraged to make people listen her voice. I want to be her friend!

-And Trixie. Oh please, Trixie. In my country, abortion was legal in 2020 after years and years of struggle and listening to people like those guys on the radio, speaking as if they owned the truth. This issue outrages me, I cannot believe the arguments that are put forward against abortion. So I admire Trixie and her courage, and I couldn't believe that she at one point only had the support of Patrick and Cyril, while the others didn't know what to do or say. This is the Trixie I like, and look how far she is from the girl who wanted to cut the heels off her shoes to match Marilyn's!

-About Nancy and Sister Julienne...I don't know what to think. It's so rare to see Julienne in this hard and distant position, but she said it: her faith came first. And I feel that this matter will be resolved in the next episode and there we will see the reasons for it. And we will also see what will happen to Nancy and her daughter (I was very sorry that the girl believes that Nancy is her sister).

And I think this is it, which breaks my heart because...we only have one more chapter and it will all end.

I'll just say one more thing:

TRIXIE FOR PRESIDENT!

[leahseclipse]

The Reichenbach Fall: Aftermath - Chapter One: Happy Death Anniversary, Detective.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x GN!Reader (With some Fem mentions)

Warnings: S2 FINALE SHERLOCK SPOILERS, Major character death; death topic, mourning, suicide mentions, depression mentions... (lemme know if I missed stuff.)

Summary: Two years after the death of Sherlock, what could be next?

Word Count: 4.0K

A/N: Hey there! I've finally found the motivation to post my Sherlock fic here. If you prefer AO3, click here :)

++

Sherlock used to call at midnight, he never cared whether you were trying to sleep, or if you were actually sleeping- he’d just call.

Sometimes to complain that technology was futile given the multitude of defaults it contained (his phone, for example)- or to talk about an article in a newspaper, thinking we’d be interested in it.

It’s been two years since the last call. No one could bring themselves to delete his number since; and I understand the reason for it. We all had some hope inside us, it was small given all the time that went by, but it was there.

We all wondered if he wasn’t alive. Movies aren’t real, so the whole fake-death scenario couldn’t have been real but we all thought “why not?”, it could happen. That was over a year ago, but I still believed it, I wasn’t quite planning on giving up; and when my phone rang a bit after midnight, I still had a glimpse of hope, each time.

That glimpse was cut short when I read the caller ID. It was John. I did like him, he just wasn’t who I expected to see, but I picked up the phone, just to not be rude. Voicemail is awful. “John? What’s going on?”

"I...I don’t really know, actually. Guess I...needed to feel less alone. I don’t even know."

“Hold on.” I glanced at my bedside as I put the phone on speaker before sitting on the bed. "...so, you couldn’t sleep?"

"Yeah, I’ve been trying for an hour, certainly because of..." He stopped, hesitating with his words.

Who else other than Sherlock would it be, honestly. The man’s always been in our thoughts, and now that he’s gone, we have to be reminded that he’s stuck in our minds. The only way to hear him is through memories, and probably some of us are afraid to forget what he sounds like through time. He wasn’t the guy to make documentaries on him, film himself- hell, he rejected every interview he was offered. The only thing we have is pictures, which isn’t enough.

"It’s him, isn't it?" I presumed.

"Yeah, Sherlock." He confirmed. “It’s the anniversary of his death, in two weeks.”

See, that was the kind of thing I didn’t want to recall as it made me think of what I didn’t want to accept, but at the same time, if I stopped thinking about that, might as well forget Sherlock completely.

"It kept me awake too." I admitted.”I can’t believe it.”

No one really does, to be honest. We all wish that it could be fake, that’s what we would need, even if it’d hurt to see him while we mourned all this time.

"It still feels a bit weird without him, even after basically two years."

“It didn’t seem right without him, at first."

"It took us a bit to get used to it, and still...I think I didn’t get used to it fully to this day."

"Neither am I, John. I don't think I ever will. Time will make the pain less...painful, but it’ll never erase him, he'll be in our thoughts from the moment we wake up."

"I wish it was all a dream. I hate to wake up and not see him. He annoyed me sometimes but...he was my friend."

"He was annoying but a good friend, yeah.” I said, “It’s just...not right. Nothing is right. I feel like everything has gone cold. I swear that I haven't seen a single ray of sunshine."

"It's probably time fooling around, I don't know." He said.

"It could but, when he was there, there would be some sunny-ish days. I haven't seen one since. He left, and it's like he took the sun with him, John. The whole world is falling apart.”

"I felt that too, for a moment. But, I don't really trust whatever I think about these days. I don't pay much attention to whatever I do."

"You should be careful though, I don't need you to die because you didn't pay attention out there. And before you say anything, there's no joke in there. I mean it, Watson.”

"I wasn't going to say that, trust me."

"You better. I need you there."

"Same goes for me. You've been of great help since…"

"Yeah. Since." I paused. "It sucks."

"It does.” He agreed. “Well I...I’m gonna go back to sleep, I don’t want to bother you all night.”

“You didn’t bother me, don’t worry. It helped to talk. I could even stay a bit more, if you’re not planning on going back now.”

“Alright, then.”

++

It’s like the weather watched me plan the day, rain is on time. It couldn’t be more depressing on top of me dressed in black, but I just didn’t feel like coming in rainbow clothes would be appropriate, even if he wouldn’t care how I dressed anyway, even if he’s dead, yeah.

It feels weird to go, I always expected this was all a dream, or that it’d just...never happen. He’s the kind of person that outlives everyone, and Sherlock was this kind of person, he’s always been that person. He even used to say he’ll always be there, that he’d never leave, and now I guess we’ve both made mistakes, he’s not here anymore.

I never thought that would happen, I can’t tell how bad I prayed to whatever god to wake up, but that did nothing but make me a fool, nothing changed.

His apartment remained empty, as ours, he’d consider each house he could sleep at, his. I remember that he stayed at John’s for a week, before having to go back as John was “not entertaining” enough because he slept too much- As if we got to sleep all day.

He used to think everyone was like him, barely sleeping, barely tired, because I don’t think I’ve had the opportunity of seeing him elsewhere other than a room full of piles of papers.

He did sleep, but not at night, it was kind of like a cat, throughout the day, when possible. I always laughed about it along with John, and he never minded, he’d either pretend to not care, or join the conversation, and I already miss this kind of talks.

They’d either be incredibly short, or extremely long, you really had to clear your schedule for an hour or two when he’d talk. It’s not that it bothered me, it was more the others, those who didn’t know him. They’ve always found an amount of weirdness in him, which I had when I was like them, a stranger.

I never thought we’d get close, I didn’t even think anyone was close with him, he seemed quite the lonely guy, very private. Even after getting to know him, he remained quite private, as I thought, he wouldn’t share much, even with John and Mycroft; but, it didn’t matter that much, we still managed to have a great friendship, and I’ll always miss it.

Not any person will be like him, he was one of a kind. Not anyone could copy him without being seen as a fool. Sherlock Holmes was unique, he didn’t copy anyone to rise up, didn’t take anyone as a model, he did it all himself, he was a model himself.

He didn’t wish to be like anyone, it was the contrary, everyone wanted to be at his level, have the recognition he had, the fame, all the things that made him known, that made Sherlock be him. Even I won’t find a mentor like him, not any of them will be better, they’ll all seem ridiculous to me, even if they have more experience than him.

Nothing will be the same. This world won’t be the same without him being here, he’s gone now.

He took a big piece of whatever thing, when he left, and whatever thing he took was a big one, because it left us all empty. The kind of empty feeling that won’t quite go away, we’ve all been so used to having him around so much that it was a habit.

And now that he’s gone, nothing feels right, even living doesn’t feel right. It won’t ever feel right without him.

I almost feel guilty for being alive, I’m not as smart as him, I won’t contribute to anything. He was the smart one, we really lost an important person and I don’t think it wouldn’t have changed much if I had died instead, people would just be sad, I think.

It wouldn’t be that bad.

His death is bad to the point that the world he left behind can’t function as well as when he was alive. The whole puzzle is missing, hell, the whole world, if I go out of the metaphor.

...Sherlock would have been the corners of it, the foundations of it, what made it whole, what gave a start to get the rest of the puzzle.

He would have corrected me with hundreds of better metaphors if he could hear me, I really suck at this. He never did, though.

In fact, most of his talking contained metaphors, it was his signature, his day couldn’t feel right if he wouldn’t tell at least one.Now the whole ‘no day without a metaphor is a bad day’ is falling on us, and nothing or no one will make that feeling go away.

It’s strange, and funny that he managed to create all of those special feelings, memories, that we only felt with him. Sherlock’s had quite the special part in our lives. He changed our lives in such a spectacular way, and to be honest, life felt less depressing, even if our job is full of dead people and mysteries that make our sleep schedule non-existent, quite rare.

He made us forget all of that shit, whenever he could. That’s why I looked up to him, and thought about him so much. Whenever I had a problem, I’d call him first. Of course, I did call John, and Mycroft, but Sherlock was like my emergency contact, he’d always pick up, if possible.

Somehow, he always knew the answers to everything, and when he was clueless (which only happened twice, in five years)- he'd attempt to find something close to it, and even if his explanations didn’t solve anything, I didn’t care.

It probably made him sort of happy to explain it, share his big knowledge, so as long as he enjoyed himself, that was enough. I did hope he did enjoy himself, I never thought about asking and now that I think about it, I probably should have, it’s too late now.

If he can hear me, a sign would be great, probably. A good thing if he enjoyed talking, and a bad one if I annoyed him? It’d be nice to know even if he probably won’t answer, he must still be working; I know it.

He would be bored if he didn’t have his face in newspapers and whatever case. I always said Sherlock not to overwork, but he never listened. I hope he’s not doing it right now, that man was a total workaholic, right to his last breath, he never stopped.

I just hope he’s okay, wherever he is.

He deserves peace, enough things happened to him, he almost died a couple times, almost lost us if we hadn’t survived all of the wounds and things that happened, almost lost himself because of depression- all of these could have killed him.

He would have stayed alive, but he would have died inside, I just know it even if he didn’t show it much. But he did feel, he did have feelings.

I know he liked us a lot, even though he didn’t show it much; he did enjoy living even with all of the problems he had so, let’s hope he’s not in pain, stressing, suffering, whatever feeling that makes him feel bad.

You can take it easy now, we’re taking care of what you couldn’t finish for you, we’re taking care of the legacy you couldn’t pursue for you, we’ve got your back, Holmes. John, Mycroft, myself, and whatever person you know will tell you everything that happens so you don’t miss anything. You’ll be able to debate about the events, you won’t miss a single thing of what’s happening.

Even if I have my pride, and don’t want to admit I’m depressed about you being dead, I’ll tell you everything, I know you’d be here to tell me how to deal with the death of a person, the whole five stages of grief. You said them to me so much that I always have them in my head.

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.

I’d say that I’m at the last phase, but a lot of anger comes in it. I still wish it had been me, sometimes. It’s not fair it happened to Sherlock. I just hope he’s not too mad. If it had been someone else, he’d probably try to talk some sense into me, get me to tell more logical things.

If ghosts were real, I know he’d tell me to stop putting the blame on myself, even if I don’t even know why I blame myself, we don’t even know what caused him to jump from a damn building. And even if someone explains it, we won’t know if it’s real no matter how much they’ll prove it’s the truth.

The only person that can tell us that is gone.

So, unless we don’t find...a diary, or a note, proving it all, we won’t know.

The last thing we’ve heard from him was an apology, the ‘note’ he left behind was the call John received, which means the presumed note I mentioned doesn’t exist, only the call does.

After leaving his note, he fell from the roof and he died on impact, his pulse was long gone when he reached the floor, and it didn’t come back. I didn’t believe all of it happened, even when I heard John telling it, none of it seemed true...until I saw the death certificate.

The whole world stopped, and it still is frozen now. I wish the grave I’m standing in front of wasn’t real, I wish that my eyes were betraying me.

If only.

“Turns out you lied, Sherlock. You left.”

I hate you for what you did.

“You could have explained all of this a bit more. Even if I would have preferred not to, I would have prevented you from dying if you gave me a note...before.”

I wish I had known, I should have known. He didn’t have to die, he wasn’t supposed to die, certainly not like that.

Not now, that wasn’t his time. He was supposed to die of old age because of natural reasons, after all of us. Outlive us all.

Damn Sherlock Holmes wasn’t supposed to die at 35 years old. It's too young, too soon, Too much to bear.

“What am I supposed to do now, I mean- what are we all supposed to do? None of us can replace you, we’ll take twice the amount of time you barely took to resolve cases on our own, you left us in a really bad situation, you know that? It’s not going to be the same if you’re not here with us.”

And I miss you like a little kid.

“You could have made us take classes to become a close version of you, at least. I’m saying ‘close’ because no one will ever be like you. Not even that detective that had 30 years of experience, he wasn’t even close, really. I’d say he looked like a newbie, next to you.”

I even started to lose the habit of calling him when he’s not directly on the field and I hate this. I’ve only known him for a couple of years, and yet, he’s going to be ironed in my mind for a lifetime.

That man, I swear.

He didn’t think that sticking so close to us, getting to know us, sharing things about him would affect us so badly now that he’s gone. Real gone.

It hurts to say that, I wish I could just pretend he wasn’t gone, but that’s not really...healthy? It’s not really healthy in the way that if I pretend he’s still there- while he’s six feet under ground would drive me crazy, it’d completely destroy the whole ‘acceptance phase’ I’ve been working on. He’s dead, and there’s nothing we can do to bring him back.

That’s what my brain has to acknowledge, pretending he’s alive wouldn’t do any good.

Sometimes life gets to an end, and we have to accept that. I know that Sherlock, his brother and even John wouldn’t want to see me like this- ignoring reality, building a fake world to protect me from the real one.

Hurting sucks. Getting reminded that I won’t be seeing him anymore sucks, but everything sucks in life, and that’s what happens when you live. You can’t have a perfect happy life with all the shitty problems, that doesn’t exist.

But even if this sucks, I also get to remember all of the great things Sherlock has accomplished, the hundreds of memories we’ve made all together, whatever makes me happy- but there’s still a lot of hurt to go through before being able to think about them without crying because I miss them.

I wish that could be happening right now, I must have filled an entire bottle of water with all my tears. It’s even worse when that happens at 2am after you wake up from a dream about them.

Speaking of dreams, I don’t think I’ve ever had so many dreams with him compared to when he was alive. It’s as if he's haunting me, and even if I like him, I’d wish he wouldn’t do that so often, a little peace and quiet would be nice, even if I don’t want that to stop.

I’m afraid I’ll forget Sherlock if I stop thinking about him, block the memories to prevent me from the hurt that comes with it. I don’t want that to happen, he doesn’t deserve to have his legacy ignored because of my stupid feelings that hurt, he deserves to have his legacy remembered, discussed about, shared, not to have it trapped in newspapers, or in a corner of my head.

I like to imagine him being proud when I do that, even if I wouldn’t have known he was. He wasn’t the expressive kind, but he liked to show he was proud of you through a facial expression, a word, whatever could be ‘decrypted’. He wasn’t as cold as people saw him, he was extremely kind, even if he was broken in millions of pieces inside.

But yet, he overcame everything and came back even stronger. Every single time. He was amazing in so many ways, and that’s why I wish I could be like him.

So much.

I sighed, adjusting the grip I had on my umbrella, as I squatted down in front of his grave. “Did you know we went through your closet yesterday? There’s really not a lot, your clothes are so...similar. We can easily buy the same to be ‘like you’. But I don’t want to touch them, they’re kind of like precious pieces you can find in a museum.”

I hope he doesn’t think I’m crazy because of that.

“And...yeah, we went through your place because we can’t bring ourselves to sell it, I don’t want someone else to live in there and ruin it with their own belongings. But at the same time, living in it would be weird, I don’t know. I can’t find an explanation, just that it’s weird, living in the apartment of a dead person. Kinda creepy.” I explained, looking up from my umbrella as I realized the rain had gone down, letting a few rays of a ‘somehow’ sun. “Look, the sun listened to me. It’s coming up so I can give my emotional speech full of hope.” I sighed. “I don’t...I don’t even know what to say anymore. Kind of ironic as I always have something to say.”

I actually kind of know, but I don’t want to say it.

He’s gone. No miracle will bring him back, but I’ve kept hearing John saying it, I heard him last time we came; and even though I can’t bring myself to say that, I want to so badly. That’s all I’ve been wanting to happen since you died, I don’t want anything else and I don’t care about love anymore even if you always wanted me to be happy.

You’re what made me happy, you were the definition of love. Maybe what I’ve been feeling was that but I never brought myself to admit it.

I have loved you since the first day, but you always said that whoever fell in love with you should find better as you considered yourself a forever loner, unable to feel and give love, but I know you were capable of it, if you had tried, I believed you could have done it.

“Look at me, in front of your grave, exposing the feelings I’ll never have the answer to, I don’t even know if you liked me back. You really took all your secrets to your grave, huh? What a selfish prick, you could’ve shared that, at least.” I complained.

I don’t think I’ve ever known someone that hid so much stuff, he really was a whole mystery to himself, that man.

We can’t even solve what caused you to commit suicide, we’ll probably never solve it. You were the only one that knew why, and yet he can’t just pull a miracle and live again for a few minutes as a zombie to explain. That would be of great help, even if I’d prefer he’d live again.

That’d be an awesome miracle, even better than what happens at Christmas.

“Can you do that for me, though?”

Just that, I won’t ask for anything else.

“Just one more miracle, Sherlock, for us.” I said, putting my hand on the polished surface. “...don't be dead.”

It’s too easy, you can’t be dead, Nothing can kill you. I know John, and a shit ton of people saw you fall, but...let me believe all of that isn’t true.

Just a fake accident, Do that for us. Please. We need you more than you can ever imagine, you were so important to us, you were family.

A reason to fight for, to live for.

“Don’t be, please.” I pleaded, as I got up from the ground. “I uh...I’ll be back whenever I can, okay? Work’s been crazy since you’re gone, it’s incredible. I don’t know if it’s because we don’t have your help, or because it’s always been like that.”

Probably a mix of the two, I don’t really know, it’s been complicated to think properly these days. Sherlock would be the one to help with that, usually.

“I’ll have to ask someone else, I guess.”

I still haven’t found this ‘someone else’, by the way, It’s been two years, I know. But I still haven’t found someone that can help me the way he used to.

He still remains unique after all this time.

“I’ll be on my way, then. You’re awfully quiet today, guess you’re not in the mood, so I’ll go.”

I wish I still didn’t have to say goodbye, but this is the only thing I can say when I leave.

The weather had even gotten better, as if it only rained to have a full dramatic effect, there was only wind, which didn’t seem to announce a storm, for now. The sound of the leaves being crushed by my feet as I walked was to be heard, as no other sounds were around, it was very quiet today.

The silence did feel weird, I never liked it.

Not when it caused me to think of…

“Got time to spare for me?”

...him.

“Sherlock.”

++

|Chapter Two|

[shyrose57]

Brothers anon back again. I had a sort of writers block for the last like 2 days which made it really hard to do some questions, but I got em done finally. Sorry about the wait. This one is split between the numbered questions, and next ask is the other questions you asked!

I think I accidentally skipped a question in the last one. I honestly don't completely remember but in case I did skip it by mistake, the groups first travel out of the city's limits and even further beyond in a carriage. When they reach the end of how far the driver is willing to go they then get out and start walking. With Jackie screaming about how their finally going on a adventure. 

1: It thankfully doesn't get to to bad before the others notice. And he immediately told them about Dream, wanting to be very clear with what happened and what they where getting themselves into. But they accepted him anyway and helped him. 

2: Isaac is the leader cause Cletus is too much of a wildcard and too impulsive to lead safely, Charles is too shy to lead, and while Benjamin is perfect for leading he doesnt really like leading and is more of a follower than a leader. But Isaac can joke around and gets along with everyone but also be able to take things seriously and know when something needs to be handled.

5: They do not, they last for a few minutes and unless its a healing or regeneration potion (in which it can take a few days for it to fully go away) they have no long lasting affects. They do know of eachothers past to an extent, they know enough to avoid triggers and enough to know what not to do when around eachother. They know through telling eachother, and they feel awful Grievous and Jackie had to deal with that, but leave it in the past and focus on making their current life better. 

6: Yes and no, while Jackie did mean to throw it at Ran, he ment for it to just hit nearby him, not directly hit him. It was ment to be more of a scare/intimidation tactic than anything else honestly. Grievous's luck is for basically everything, he has won the lottery twice before actually but only those 2 times, he's correctly guessed how many items are in a container more than a few times as well. 

7: I use the height charts and they help mostly for comparison, problem is I have trouble applying it to real world stuff and because of that I still have trouble knowing if something or someone is to tall or short. Jackie can get very mean, like he can make fun of someone who just lost a loved one or experienced a traumatic event at the worst. But he usually doesn't get nearly that mean, most he does normally is making fun of how someone looks or how they do certain things. The others comfort him the best they can when he gets sad, and when he gets mean they either encourage it (Grievous), or discourage it and stop him (Watson. Ran is between either encouraging or discouraging it).

8: He was! He spent most of his life adventuring actually! He misses it somedays now since he lives in Subbin, but he believes giving up his adventuring life for a family and friends who needed him is a more than far trade and would happily pick his family over adventuring again. For around 4 years after Ran left Mizu (including the day he left), Ran traveled everywhere, and learned how to survive himself and taught himself different things, like sewing. Ran has made new socks, fixed clothes, and made blankets for everyone at least once. Watson also designs bows and arrows for show, for top functionality, and for just simple (training) gifts to the others. Ran (and Watson) has visited the nether, though Ran tended to stay in it longer than Watson cause he could withstand the temperatures better. And while digging a new tunnel across the nether he ran into ancient debris, which he then messed with until he figured out to mix it with gold and coat his sword in it. He tried to find more ancient debris but sadly hasn't found any, leaving his sword permanently damaged and at risk of breaking. Jackie isn't good at all at painting, its more of a hobby he's trying out. They try to camp out there at least once a week, where Grievous will sometimes build a pillowfort and either force everyone inside or play a game of capture the fort with them. Sometimes Ran will also read during the pillowfort nights, but not to often. Jackie wants to vist a Snow, Savanna, Jungle,  Tagia, and if possible, a Ice Spike biome. He also wants to vist the nether but he'll have to fight Ran on that. Ran and Jackie's secondary titles are in Javanese!

9: Ran just kinda went "Hey Jackie, stand still for a second." "Ok?" And then he just picked him up and threw up. 

10: When he's first given dinner after already eaten lunch, he just kinda stares at the food. Then asks if they meant to give him food, and when the others say yes, he asks why because he thought people only ate once every few days. His answer shocked the others and they ask him to explain, and he explains futher that he was only allowed to eat and drink once every 3 days. Their horrified by this answer but explain to him how theres 3 meals a day and he can drink whenever, he doesn't believe them at first but eventually accepts it. 

11: When the fishermen first come to Ranbob about their worry, he expresses the same worry as them. But says that it's unlikely Ran will hurt the fishermen specifically, because Rans haunting are already friends with them, and Ran wouldnt risk breaking the friendship unless he deemed it necessary for their safety. 

12: Ranbob is sad that Ran goes to such lengths to avoid him and keep people away from him, but he has resigned himself to it. As he knew that if Ran was alive it was greatly unlikely that he would trust him and knew he would be avoided. Which is actually particularly why he believes Ran will never trust him again and why he views Ran as a kind of lost family member. One he'll never get back no matter what he does.

13: Their first stop is a nearby flower biome, and after that Watson has planned to lead them to a waterfall he found with a shattered Savanna somewhat close to it. They plan to travel for a minimum of 6 months, they can actually travel for as long as they want to, but Prokius made them agree that they must be back before the next General Pit Battles (which happens once every 5 years). 

14: He would 100% run himself into the ground until he's barely alive while searching for them. Benjamin compares Ranbob wanting to go back to Dream, to an abused person wanting to go back to their abusive lover. They believe they've changed and that they truly do love them and want the best for them, but in reality that's not it at all and others have to help them see thats not true and help them save themselves. So it doesn't surprise Benjamin or Isaac that much (it surprises Charles and Cletus though), and after its explained to them, their all more than willing to help Ranbob get over Dream and help him be himself again.

15: Oh definitely. Once they hear the Green-Eyed Enderman is back from hiding they all set out again, and after the group gets attacked and once word spreads that its in a group and there's another enderman with them, they all get targeted. With the Gladiators and Fishermen being targeted as bait or hostages to try to trick the enderman into following a trap. Ran wasnt affected like his brother was. Im talking about trauma and maybe even a bit of PTSD that came from Mizu, caused by Dream. Though both of the brothers have gained different amounts of trauma and PTSD from Dream. I may give the raven to either Watson or Ran, I think its fits both of them really well. I want to have them come across ruins of other Tales but im not sure which ones. Maybe they could find the remains of the Wild West Tale and the Haunted Mansion?

Glad to see you, Brothers Anon, and excited to read!

1: The perfect start to an Adventure. And a funny mental image. Imagining these two groups cramped into carriages is pretty amusing. How ready was everyone to get out by the time they could?

2: The fishermen are really great, and Ranbob is very lucky. I love them.

3: Isaac sounds like he’s a pretty good fit for it then. But nobody’s perfect! What are some flaws of his, leadership-wise?

5: Interesting. What makes Regeneration and Healing last longer? I suppose it’s not relative to the AU, but I am a bit curious. What’s the world’s potions mechanisms, if you don’t mind me asking? And that’s good! They may not know everything, but they know what to avoid, and that’s important. Everyone’s moved forward and are making the best of life, and honestly, that’s pretty cool of them.

6: Welp, Jackie, it seems intimidation tactic failed. However, you have managed to anger Ran, so..there’s that. He won the lottery? Dang. Well, if they ever need money, they can just send him to the nearest casino, I suppose.

7: Aight, so I may have a solution for you there. Whatever height you’re going for, find something in real life that’s just about the same height. Like a tree, or something. Or not, we can always just leave it at short enough to be tossed and tall enough to be the tosser. Jackie sounds like he knows where to hit to make it hurt, honestly. It’s good that they comfort him, though I am curious why they all react as they do to him being mean. Why does Grievous encourage it? And is it more of a depends on the day thing for Ran, or a depends on what was said to Jackie, and what Jackie’s saying thing?

8: Nice! What kind of places did he go? Does he have any particularly interesting knickknacks from that time period? And Ran personally sounds like he knows what he’s doing. Watson’s weapons sound really cool, where did he learn to make them? Is visiting the Nether not a common occurrence these days? Or is it simply that the others never got around to it before? Well, hobbies are always fun to try. Does Jackie keep at it and get better or get bored and try something else? How does Capture the Fort go with these guys, considering they’re gladiators? Why does Jackie want to visit those particular biomes? Is there a reason, or do they just sound cool to him? And why would Ran not want them going to the Nether? Because of the danger?

9: FDXGHJ- He just- tossed him?? No warning?? Oh my gods, I’m dying. How did Jackie react to that? Heck, how did Porkius react to that? I doubt anyone was expecting that display.

10: Oh, no. Now I really want to punch Dream in the face. What the heck, Dream?! He legit asks if they meant to give him food...If one of the fishermen or gladiators doesn’t eventually find a way to punch Dream, I will be forced to travel realities and do it myself. 

11: Kind of sad that Ranbob was equally concerned about it. But hey! He won’t have to be, one day!

12: Poor Ranbob. I hope he’s proven wrong, eventually. Do the fishermen know that he thinks this? If so, how do they feel about it? Or does he kind of just keep those thoughts to himself?

13: Flower biomes are really pretty. What did everyone think about it? Did they bring any flowers with them? So this roadtrip could possibly go on for a few years. Did they leave just after a General Pit Battle, or do they have like, less than five years? Speaking of General, is Jackie still the General in this AU? Does he have extra duties because of it? Or is that not something that happened in this AU?

14: Yikes. Reactions to this? Why does Ranbob believe Dream’s changed, as you put it? Is Dream still able to talk to him, or is it because he just misses being there? So Benjamin and Isaac aren’t all that surprised about it. Do they take the reins in helping out? And how do they all do so? It’s good that they’re helping him though.

15: Well, this sounds like it can’t end well. They try to use the hauntings as bait? Is anyone actually captured? Rescue missions? And alright, that makes a bit more sense. I can see how they’d both be effected differently, and honestly, they’d probably both have very different perspectives of the event, all things considered. Ravens for the win! And it’d be really cool for them to come across the ruins of old Tales buildings. Can you imagine the kind of things they’d find? Diaries, faded photographs, moth-eaten clothes, blood stained floors...Like a walk in the past, but they’ll never know what came to be for the people of that time.

[inglourious-imagines]

The Story of Their Lives (Lt. Aldo Raine)

Requested by: @tealaquinn

Summary: The story of Lt. Aldo Raine and Sgt. Y/N Y/L/N.

Prompts: 9 - Don't you touch her. & 12 - No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them. & 21 - I wanna see how you lose control. & 24 - He's a badass with a good heart. & 39 - Kiss me. & 93 - You make me feel... you make me feel.

Author's Note: This is damn long so I really hope you like it! Also there are some parts in Italian so I'd like you to know, I've never learnt this language so there might be some mistakes. Feel free to send request or let me know if you wanna be tagged in these ♡

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @radiantcade @meteora-fc @kyra3155 @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @im-in-love-with-queen

.

.

.

Y/N and Aldo never showed some kind of an affection towards each other. They respected, trusted, appreciated the other one but these traits were common among the Basterds.

It seemed so innocent at first, almost like a teasing and none of the Jewish American soldiers expected to become it something more.

•••

They met at the very beginning of the Basterd's missions. Y/N was a french spy, a very famous one so she obviously got their attention since they'd gotten to France.

The Basterds recruited her in a bar and she immediately became one of them. Y/N fit within the group perfectly, like she was always destined to be a Basterd.

•••

After the third successful mission, they decided to stay the night in a local resistance hotel to relax and prepare for another action. Everyone went to their beds as soon as they could but Donny persuaded Y/N and Aldo to gamble a little before the sleep. 

"C'mon, just one game!" Donny pleaded. It didn't take much and the trio was sitting around a table playing their fifth game.

"I thought you're better at poker, Lieutenant." Y/N laughed as she grabbed another money she won.

"Shut up, Sergeant. I just am a bit lenient with ya, that's all." Aldo fought back, trying to cover the fact he's worse with cards than Hugo trying to actually smile for once. 

"Show me what you got, Lieutenant. I wanna see how you lose control." she winked at him and dealt the cards.

•••

Something changed in Aldo this evening. At first, Y/N was just another soldier sticking up for her country trying to end the war. But now he saw her in a totally different light.

He noticed what colour her eyes have, how she always ties her hair in a braid. 

He noticed how her cheeks blushed when he praises her after a good work.

He noticed how she scrunches her nose when she disagrees with someone. 

All those little things were filling his head. Aldo was so full of it. It was during the other mission when he completely understood his feelings.

•••

One moment and his whole world flipped. 

Aldo was so angry with himself that he missed such an important thing.

Like a gun. 

The German soldier was just kneeling in front of Aldo when he reached in his pocket. It all happened so quickly then.

The German pulled out a gun and with one last defiance he pulled the trigger. But it wasn't Aldo who got hit. 

It was the woman behind him.

Aldo was like deprived of his senses. He threw away the piece of bread he was eating and jumped at the German. If Wicki didn't pulled him back, Aldo would probably beat the guy to death.

And that was Donny's speciality.

"Don't you fuckin' touch her! Or look at her!" Aldo shouted hitting his face with his fist one more time.

Y/N was so taken away by his behaviour, not really sure where the anger got from.

"What the hell, Lieutenant?" she frowned, "it's just a goddamn scratch on my arm. The bullet didn't even hit me properly." 

Aldo froze whereas Donny and Hugo looked at each other with knowing smiles. They finally realised what was going on.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he tried to brush it off, gesturing to the Basterds to continue with the scalping. "It's fuckin' bleedin' a lot!"

"It's fine. Nothing too serious, Lieutenant." Y/N replied.

Aldo just shook his head as he took off his scarf and tied it around the wound. "No one would hurt ya again, or I'd kill 'em."

•••

The Basterds got ordered to rest a bit because there was a big mission on its way. They didn't know what it was but they all welcomed a full night sleep.

But Y/N didn't feel like going to bed. Instead, she took her cigarettes and sat at the balcony of the apartment they got settled in.

It was a chilly night but she didn't mind. She actually liked cold more than heat.

"Aldo seems a bit off lately." Donny's voice broke the silence as he positioned himself next to her.

"What you mean?" she asked offering him a cigarette which he gladly accepted. 

"Remember how he beated up the German officer two weeks ago? I've never seen him like that."

"Oh Donny. He's just a badass with a good heart. I assure you, Aldo's just fine."

Donny shrugged but didn't say anything. This wasn't his secret to tell even though the change in Aldo's behaviour towards her was so damn obvious. 

Donowitz glanced at Y/N smiling a bit. He understood why Aldo fell for the female Basterd. 

•••

Bridget von Hammersmark was laying in front of them with a bullet in her leg while Hugo, Archie and Wicki were dead.

Y/N was standing in the corner of the room, lost in her thoughts, mourning for her lost friends. She knew something like that had to happen but she also believed in Basterds and part of her thought that they'll all come back home one day.

Y/N wasn't able to look at the actress anymore. She quickly left the room not looking at anyone while she lighted her cigarette. It'd been becoming too much to handle for her.

"Are you alright?" Aldo frowned as he walked towards her. "You still in?"

She laughed sarcastically at his question sheaking her head. "Yeah, of course, business. I'm in, Lieutenant."

"I didn't mean in like that and ya know it."

"Yeah, sorry. It's just-"

"I know, Sergeant. This whole event got me thinkin'. I gotta tell you something."

Y/N threw away her cigarette as she looked directly at him. She wasn't sure if it was the light or the sentiment, but Aldo's eyes never seemed so beautiful to her like they did in that moment. 

"The truth is," Raine began as he stepped closer, "you make me feel... you make me feel, Sergeant."

•••

When Y/N stepped into the room in a black plain tight dress, the conversation between the Basterds immediately stopped. They'd never seen her in anything but in uniform or the civilian clothes. Donny dropped the glass of whiskey he was drinking, Hugo's knife fell on the ground with a loud crash, Omar and Wicki stayed there with their mouths wide opened, Archie Hicox smirked and Aldo, Aldo was taken away and wasn't able to get out a word.

"Please, gentlemen! This is how you welcome a beautiful woman? She looks magnificent!" Bridget von Hammersmark exclaimed gesturing towards Y/N.

"It's so uncomfortable," Y/N frowned and tried to adjust the dress a little, "and so impractical." 

"I think it's perfect." Aldo breathed out and Bridget smiled in satisfaction.

Y/N truly looked like a completely new person. And Aldo's feelings mixed once again. She was so special to him, like water is special to desert. His life was dry without an excitment. She was the water that refreshed him after a long time of loneliness.

•••

Bridget, Aldo, Y/N, Donny and Omar stepped into the small local cinema, already so full of Nazi officers.

"It makes me sick." Y/N snorted as she looked around on the German uniforms. "I have two knives and a gun and I'm not afraid to use them right now."

Aldo laughed next to her and gallantly put his hand on her hip pulling her closely to him.

"Just relax, darlin'. We'll do that later." Aldo winked at her, not letting her go for a moment.

Bridget suddenly seemed like she'd seen a ghost. An older man approached their little group and Y/N immediately understood with whom they have the honor.

Bridget and Hans Landa shared a short conversation before they turned to them. Hammersmark formally introduced the Basterds and Y/N flinched a little under the German's look. Aldo noticed right away her change of attitude and stroked her hip gently.

"Sei assolutamente incredibile, signorina! Ho notato che molti ufficiali hanno voltato la testa dopo di te." (You look absolutely stunning, miss! I noticed that many officers turned their head after you.) Hans Landa grinned and Y/N thought it was the most disgusting thing ever.

"Grazie mille signore. Sono sicuro che stai esagerando." (Thank you very much, sir. I'm sure you're exaggerating.) Y/N faked a smile and clenched her hand in fist to remain calm.

All of the Basterds with Bridget jerked their heads towards her. Her fluent Italian took them away as well as Landa.

"Quanto amo la lingua italiana! E dalla bocca di una donna così bella, è una musica per le mie orecchie." (How I love the Italian language! And from the mouth of such a beautiful lady, it's a music for my ears.)

"Mi stai adulando, signor Landa. Non hai un brutto aspetto." (You're flattering me, Mr Landa. You don't look so bad yourself.) Y/N felt like vomitting any next second. 

Aldo had enough of Landa's fake attitude, especially how Y/N looked so stressed and angry. He decided he has to step in or she won't hold herself back. Aldo recalled the one sentence he learnt yesterday, just in case he'd need to interrupt a moment in a formal way. This was the time.

"Baciami, adesso." (Kiss me, right now.) he stated and pulled Y/N even closer than before. She didn't manage to prostest or ask a quick question and their lips touched. She returned the kiss immediately and ran her fingers through his hair.

Until someone coughed.

They pulled apart from each other, Aldo smiling widely like a winner and Y/N blushing harder than ever.

"Ci scusi signore. Il mio ragazzo qui è un tipo appassionato. Devi perdonarlo." (Excuse us, sir. My boyfriend here is the passionate kind. You must forgive him.) Y/N stuttered and but looked directly at Landa.

•••

Operation Kino was over and it was now only her, Aldo and Utivich. They lost everybody along the way. They stood together side by side through everything. They'd become something stronger than family, friends, lovers. They faced death together and nothing could break the bond they'd created over the years. It was time to go home.

Y/N stood on the ship that was taking the Basterds, or what was left of them, home. The wind was dancing on her hair whispering secrets in her ears.

"I never thought I'd make it back home." Aldo Raine appeared next to her with a cigarette between his lips.

"None of us thought so, Lieutenant." she nodded, "but the difference is, we were wrong. Not them."

"Smart as always." Aldo grinned as he turned to her. "You should stop calling me Lieutenant. The war's over."

Y/N giggled at his statement and he could swear he'd never heard something so melodic, something so right. 

"It kinda sticked with you, Lieutenant."

Aldo didn't answer, instead he threw away the cigarette and took some deep breaths. He needed whiskey, or anything else that would give him at least a bit of courage.

Aldo Raine fought in war, he saw his friends die, he was broken by everything he saw and still, asking Y/N a simple question seemed harder than surviving the bloodshed.

"Spill it out, Lieutenant." she laughed as she glanced at him. 

"I hate how ya always do that. But here it goes," Aldo replied, "I've never been good at this so I'll just keep it short."

He stopped for a moment and stared at the woman in front of him. As he stepped closer, his heart was already racing like it'd never before.

"Why don't ya come to the States with me? We can buy some little house in the Smoky Mountains and live there for the rest of our fuckin' lives." Aldo confessed in his Raine kind of way, looking at her with so much hope in his eyes. 

"Is this some kind of your proposal?" Y/N chuckled as she intertwined her fingers with his.

"Maybe."

"I thought you'd never ask! Of course I'll come with you! You're everything I have, Aldo." 

[mostlysignssomeportents]

We don't know why you don't want to have public sex

Evolutionary psychology is beloved of a certain kind of "rationalist" who loves a good just-so story that casts some system that advantages him as biologically inevitable, as in, "Honey, the only reason I'm screwing my undergrads is because of bonobos." There's a tried-and-true formula for evo-psych storytelling: first, find an animal that acts in a certain way. Next, make up a story explaining that behavior. Finally, project that behavior on proto-hominids whose social lives are totally unknown and unknowable. Put a bow on it by explaining that these animals show that these protohominids did whatever it is people are angry at you about, and then declare that your DNA requires you to do that. Evo-psych doesn't have to be sexist, but it usually is, and so it usually falls to women to debunk these idiotic claims. A good example is Jordan Peterson, whose theories of gender essentialism are built on the mating habits of a certain lobster species. Periodically, women, especially marine biologists, have done the important, thankless work of explaining that Peterson is cherry-picking here. Take Bailey Steinworth's incredible 2018 thread on marine invertebrate reproduction: https://twitter.com/baileys/status/997646354414522368 Steinworth wants to know why lobster sex is the exemplar we should use to explain human sexuality, rather than, say, sea hares, hermaphrodites that"lay their eggs orgy-style with each individual simultaneously acting as male and female in multiple couplings." Sea hares know how to have a good time! "If only two are available, they take turns being 'male' and 'female.'" The genre of "women scientists explaining why evo-psych is pseudoscientific horseshit" is large and excellent, but one practitioner stands out above all others. Anne Innis Dagg recently won the Order of Canada for her outstanding work as an evolutionary biologist. Dagg faced vicious discrimination throughout her distinguished scientific career. She was never tenured, even after decades at the University of Waterloo, where she was my undergrad advisor. In 2004, Dagg published "Love of Shopping Is Not a Gene," the ur-text of the field. https://boingboing.net/2009/11/04/love-of-shopping-is.html It's a short, sprightly book, as much an ethnography of evo-psych supporters as it is a scientific debunking of the field. (If you're interested in learning more about Dagg, she's the subject of a brilliant new doc, "The Woman Who Loved Giraffes") https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/19/pluralist-19-feb-2020/#annedagg The women who do this important work really epitomize the "everything the men do, but backwards and in heels" nature of so much anti-misogynist work. They have to out-rationalism the "rationalists" who promote evo-psych. And they have to do so while being as entertaining as the just-so pseudoscientific tales they're debunking, without being able to cheat by presenting their own fancy as science. Which brings me to this week's backwards-in-heels champion, Rebecca Watson, AKA Skepchick, a frequent target of harassment by terrible men and a fearless science communicator who is as entertaining as she is correct. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eG5iiYJvjsw Watson's latest is "Why Do Humans Have Sex in Private? Evolutionary Psychology has a Guess" - a teardown of Yitzchak Ben-Mocha's evidence-free paper arguing that we screw in private because men don't want rivals to get horny and screw their mates. https://royalsocietypublishing.org/doi/10.1098/rspb.2020.1330 The paper may be evidence free, but it's not devoid of argument. In the grand tradition of evo-psych, Ben-Mocha combines an observation about contemporary norms (the propensity of survey respondents to have sex in private), which he then projects back to prehistory. As Watson notes, "behaviorally and cognitively modern humans have been around for about 50,000 years, and unfortunately we don’t have many extant sex tapes from the earliest part of that period." Ben-Mocha proposes this is genetic, locating a bird species, the Arabian babbler, which seeks out private matings. Ben-Mocha proposes (but has no means of validating) explanations for this, decides that one is more likely than others, and therefore it's probably true. Having decided Arabian babblers are "cooperative breeders" he concludes that humans are probably also genetically disposed to screw privately because of the same imaginary reason that one species of avians, who genetically diverged from mammals millions of years ago are. Watson really does good work laying out both the thinness of this paper and the absurdity of its warm response.   If videos aren't your thing, here's a transcript: https://skepchick.org/2020/08/why-do-humans-have-sex-in-private-evolutionary-psychology-has-a-guess/ Here's her closer: "there is zero evidence that you inherited a preference for fucking in private from your parents, that you fuck in private because men want other men to still be their bros, or that’s even what is happening in bird populations the study is based on." "You may as well say that humans evolved a gene that allows us to hold in a fart around someone we find attractive. Not everything is an adaptive trait." If you like Watson's work and want to see more of it, here's her Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/rebecca