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nakahras · 29 days

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𓇼 ˖° dimples • multi character

synopsis • you’re surrounded by stupid men with cute dimples, it’s a tragedy

warnings • all: lower case intentional, fem!reader • chuuya’s: intoxication (alcohol), slight spoilers for stormbringer

wc • 4.4k

a/n • writing for characters other than chuuya and dazai (even tho i snuck both of them in there 💀) was refreshing. i had sm fun with all of these

ada: kunikida (wc 767)

it’s been almost eight hours of torture and you’re not even close to being finished with the mountain of work this stupid sack of bandages and bones has let pile up. it’s been especially bad this month, he usually tries to keep up the first week or so but from the looks of it, with this month that wasn’t the case. the worst part of it all? you don’t even get to leave the office until the brunette has all of his backed up work completed and at the rate you’re going you’ll both be here for the rest of the week. you wish you were exaggerating but you don’t think you are. last month atsushi was stuck in the office for a full 32 hours. the poor boy didn’t speak to dazai for almost a week after that, having had his fill for a lifetime.

your eye is twitching and your head is throbbing. you’ve been stuck next to dazai for almost eight whole hours due to having literally drawn the short straw. each month all the detectives, excluding ranpo since he’s just as bad, draw straws to help dazai catch up on his neglected paperwork and unfortunately this month was your turn.

you let out another long sigh, at this rate you’ll pass out from the breathing exercises before you finish all of this work. your glasses are propped low on your nose, index finger and thumb pinching the bridge of it in irritation. dazai is currently humming his double suicide song and leaning dangerously far back in his desk chair.

just as an idea stampedes across your mind, kunikida, not even looking up from his laptop, speaks up. “if you keep leaning back in that chair, you rock-for-brains, you’re going to fall and hit your head. god knows you don’t need to take any more damage to that screwy brain of yours.”

you can’t help but to let out a snort as you look over to see obvious offense on the brunette's face. it’s rare that kunikida’s outlandish comments towards dazai surprise you anymore, but it’s almost as if the blonde had read your mind. you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling further when dazai gives you an accusatory glance before directing his attention back to the senior detective.

“awww are you worried about me, kunikida-kun? that’s so sweet of you. i’m not clumsy enough to fall from leaning back in my chair like this though. i’ve mastered the art!” as if to demonstrate, dazai leans way back, far more dangerously than he had previous to this conversation.

without thinking you lean over and push on dazai’s chair, knowing the only result being him tumbling to the floor. “oh, have you now.”

in the split second before his demise, the brunette looks at you with an expression of utter betrayal. it’s like it happens in slow motion, you watch the betrayal flash into horror and then finally acceptance settles in his features as the back of his chair hits the ground and dazai clashes with the floor. a loud crash resounds across the office and everyone is too stunned to move let alone make a noise. not even a moment later dazai is groaning and lets out a pathetic whine.

before he can open his mouth to complain verbally you’re both startle by a loud chortle coming from behind you. your eyes widen at the foreign noise falling from the usually stoic or angry blonde. you watch in wonder as his lips are stretched into a rare smile and his flushed cheeks display deep crevices. they’re dimples, you’ve never seen kunikida smile this widely, so you’ve never noticed them until now. something in your stomach flutters at the sight and you can’t help but to smile at him in astonishment.

when kunikida settles down, clutching his stomach, he’s still smiling as he removes his glasses and wipes the tears from his eyes. as he places the metal frames back on his face his gaze seeks you out and when it settles on you his face is one of shock to find you already staring at him in amazement. you watch him closely, scrutinizing his expressions to see if you really never noticed the signs of dimples decorating his cheeks before.

kunikida clears his throat awkwardly and composes himself. “what is it?”

you let out an airy laugh and shake your head while offering him a reassuring smile. “it’s nothing really…i just never noticed before, kunikida, but you have dimples. you should smile more often, they suit you.”

pm: chuuya (wc: 1.1k)

you hardly ever drink, if at all. the most you’ll have in a sitting is a glass of whatever’s offered to you. you usually sip at it slowly, nursing that one drink for the rest of the night.

…but tonight…

tonight is certainly different. you’re celebrating the close defeat of fyodor and the decay of angels with the armed detective agency of all people. the surprising collaboration had bonded so many of your people together that it was only right to celebrate as one. the defeat was, after all, all of yours.

despite the celebratory mood, you currently find yourself in a predicament. as one of the port mafia’s physicians it’s easy to fly under the radar at an event much like this one, but the ada’s doctor took a special liking to you and has been feeding you shot after shot of saki to shoot with her. at this rate, you won’t even be able to see straight enough to hook yourself up to an iv before passing out after this. you don’t even want to know what kind of headache you’ll have in the morning if you can’t stay hydrated.

you need to find a reason to excuse yourself before you’re roped into taking your sixth shot of the night.

you scan the vicinity, everything blurring at the edges. your eyes zero in on the one person you’ve actually wanted to speak to all night. you haven’t seen him since he came back from europe. you missed him. the thought makes you cringe internally at the involuntary thought. you wonder how much you look like a love sick puppy because suddenly yosano is leaning in and whispering, very indiscreetly might you add.

“oho! am i keeping you from a special someone? go on, i can find another drinking buddy…” the woman doesn’t even give you a chance before she’s waving the bottle of saki and zeroing in on the blonde with glasses whose name you never bothered to learn. “kunikida! come here!”

you take a breath and try your best not to stumble over to where the ginger is observing something to his left, clearly amused. when you get about 3 meters from him, his head snaps over to you and his small smile stretches into a bigger fond one. his eyes soften and he reaches out to steady you.

god, you almost forgot how truly gorgeous this man is.

“looks like you had too much fun with the agency’s doctor there.” the second his smile widens you’re a goner, your mind becomes even more foggy and your legs wobbly.

you smile proudly at chuuya and you think you must look ridiculous because he lets out a chuckle that puts his single dimple on full display. “were you keeping tabs on me, chuuya nakahara?”

your words are a little slurred, even though it’s not very noticeable, they still come out more jumbled than you previously thought they would. if you had the decency you’d flinch at it but your inhibitions are a little scarce right now. you don’t even have the decency to feel embarrassed.

what’s even worse is chuuya catches the way your eyes scan his figure, gaze lingering on features that should be left for a private setting. you’re absolutely shameless and you’re not even that inebriated. your ogling is put to an end when your eyes meet his own again. his grin wide and smug.

once again, you’re consumed by how stunning he is.

“i was…been waiting all night for that doctor to leave you alone. it’s been a while, doll. how’ve you been?” chuuya reaches out to straighten your hair by tucking your loose strands behind your hair, you don’t miss the way he lets his hand linger before pulling away and letting his arm drop back to his side.

you hum contentedly and shrug. “i’ve been overworked and worried. but…i’m glad it’s finally over and you’re back. i’m glad you’re safe.”

trying to change the subject, you hone in on the small indent that’s settled on his face from smiling so much and chuuya gives you a confused look but he doesn’t question you just yet.

“y’know, you only have one dimple and i think,” you reach up and poke at the small crater in his cheek. “it’s the cutest thing ever.”

a fit of giggles falls from your lips and chuuya swears that somehow between when you walked over and now you had time to sneak in stealing his heart. something in his stomach flutters and his hands twitch, begging to hold onto you. chuuya tilts his head back, effectively making your hand fall from his face and downs the rest of his wine.

you watch in amusement, enjoying the way your words have clearly affected him. maybe drinking as much as you did wasn’t such a bad idea after all. you never would have said something like that to the world’s strongest ability user otherwise. you’ve harbored affection for the ginger since doc, your mentor, was still alive. you can practically hear albatross in your ear, teasing you for your, at the time, small crush.

you’re brought out of your melancholy thoughts when chuuya’s gloved hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you into him. you stumble and fall into the gravity manipulator. you let out a noise of complaint, ready to voice your qualms but it all dies on your tongue as it goes dry when you notice the tantalizing look on chuuya’s face.

“you’re callin’ me cute? you?” chuuya leans in, he’s so close you can smell the faint scent of wine and cigarettes on his breath.

you swallow thickly and look away, face now flushed from more than just the alcohol. “what d’you mean by that…”

the ginger leans in impossibly closer, his lips now brushing yours but before he can even say anything, an airy and teasing voice is calling out for the executive.

“chuuya! i’ve been looking all over for you, don’t tell me you were avoiding me? and here i thought we had patched things up back at the prison.”

chuuya’s brown eye twitches as his head turns to find a tall brunette with a simpering smile. it takes you a moment but you realize this is someone you know, someone who you haven’t seen or heard from since you were 18, dazai osamu. you aren’t exactly in the mood for a reunion, your face still flushing from what just transpired between you and the executive.

you try to escape but chuuya’s grip on your wrist only tightens. a clear nonverbal for you to stay put. despite suddenly feeling stone cold sober, you have a sneaky feeling you’re still going to be missing that iv tonight.

guild: mark twain (wc: 738)

this standstill is agonizing, you’re so bored. you’ve been stuck on the moby dick for what seems like ages and yet you still haven’t been given an assignment by francis. you feel useless, like you’ve just been twiddling your thumbs — hell, even poe has had a role to play in all of this.

it’s so incredibly frustrating.

you sit on the floor of the sunroom, you thought basking in the sunlight might help your mood. you thought wrong. you’ve been sulking for the last hour, maybe longer, just huffing and puffing as if someone was there. you let out another sigh and dramatically flop to the ground and onto your back as you hear someone approaching.

you look up to find a pair of sandal clad feet far too close to your face for comfort. you grimace and quickly sit back up to get away from the offending appendages. you previously had wanted some company, at least then it would be less agonizing. but you’re filled with dread when you decide your mood is far too sour to be entertaining anyone at the moment.

you glare at the ginger looming over you.

“get those dogs away from me.” you cross your legs and your face twists further in annoyance when you’re met with an amused expression.

a chuckle falls from his lips as he plops himself on the floor next to you. “someone’s in a cheery mood today.”

you roll your eyes and contemplate ignoring the young man altogether. of course you’re in a shit mood, you’re bored, you’ve been bored since you got to japan. you’re not even allowed to explore the area. you tried sneaking out but that damn priest caught you and tattled. you almost lose your temper just thinking about it.

“hey,” your internal rage is halted by mark trying to capture your attention. “where’d ya go just now?”

you let out a groan and flop back onto the floor. usually mark has a knack for fishing you out of your own thoughts but you don’t think even he can help today. you’d asked permission again to go explore and once again francis denied you. you feel like a bird, caged in, wings clipped so you’re unable to fly. being cooped up like this is driving you insane and you think mark can sense it because he stops pressing and lays down with you.

you both lay in silence for a bit and your tense muscles finally begin to relax. maybe this wasn’t so bad, basking in the sun alone was sad, but having someone to do it with…it’s nice. you’ve suddenly forgotten why you were so worked up.

the peaceful moment only lasts a few moments. a familiar and mischievous voice rings close to your ear and you start. “he’s been worried about ya, y’know?”

“tom?!” both you and the ginger cry out in unison.

you sit up and look over at mark incredulously. he’s never accidentally activated the boys before, his control always being pretty impressive actually. your lips part slightly as you notice the embarrassed pout that stretches his lips down. the frown bringing out the dimples on his cheeks, making them far more apparent than they are when he smiles.

it takes a moment but tom’s words sink in, when they do you let out a snort that has mark giving you a mortified look. tom is perched on your shoulder, snickering along with you. mark glares at the small apparition and releases his ability cutting off his snickering.

you look over to mark with a smug grin. “so, you’ve been worried about me, huh?”

you let out a chuckle as the ginger groans. suddenly your sour mood melts away and you’re left with a sweet aftertaste. your grin is wide and reaches your eyes, making them crinkle at the edges. your chest feels lighter, a weight that’s been sitting in your rib cage since departing the states finally being relieved and you have mark twain to thank for that. you watch as his frown stays clearly plastered on his features. you shake your head at him.

“ah, c’mon, mark. y’know i’m only teasing you. although i should do it more often, that frown brings out those adorable dimples of yours even more than a smile does…”

mark offers you an offended side eye but he can’t hide the blush that dusts the apple of his cheeks at your words.

hunting dogs: tachihara (wc 1k)

“tecchou could be charming… if it weren’t for his strange…quirks.” you snicker at jouno’s quip, never missing the chance to insult the brunette.

you hum, a smirk stretching at your lips. “okay, mr. ‘i like to piss people off for fun’, you’re just as bad.”

the blind man turns his head towards your voice and scowls in your direction. your smile widens, pleased with ticking him off. playing his game better than him is always so exhilarating. jouno always gives you some of the best reactions .

your captain belts out a hearty laugh. the older man himself had started this conversation. apparently he’d been shot down and came into your meeting room with his ears drooped and tail between his legs. charm. that is the subject at hand, which of you have the most charm. it started with fukuchi insisting on his “boyish charm” despite his age. the man is clearly in denial but trying to convince him of that is pointless, you would know, you’ve tried.

jouno hisses, “as if you’re any better.”

“i am. why do you think i’m the member fukuchi sends out for negotiations, my dear jouno?” you snicker when the pale man turns his nose up at you and clicks his tongue, knowing you’d won.

it’s been a while since all of you had been summoned together. despite the bickering you’re excited to see your colleagues altogether in one room. you’re especially giddy to see a certain redhead who’s been undercover with the port mafia for almost 2 years now. you’ve missed 2 of his birthdays, he must look older now. you wonder just how much the young man has grown since the last time you saw him — as a boy. you were still young too, you still are, younger than him at the very least. not by much of course but it’s enough to make you the second youngest member of the hunting dogs.

the last time you saw tachihara, the two of you fought. you begged him, pleaded with him to not take the assignment with the port mafia. it was dangerous and you knew about his personal grudge against its leader. but he didn’t listen, he made a promise to you, though. he promised to come back to you in one piece.

you impatiently wait to see if he kept his promise.

you’re pulled out of your thoughts by fukuchi. “ah, we almost forgot about the other two. what do you think of teruko.”

you and jouno share a look. teruko has never been the most agreeable…and that’s putting it lightly. her attitude is arrogant at best. sure, when she loves, she loves with her entire being but that’s a rare instance and it takes time to get there with the girl.

“why don’t we skip over her and move on to tachihara…” jouno looks almost pained at having to avoid the topic altogether.

luckily you’re both saved by the meeting room door opening and 3 other figures walking in. you sit up straight, watching as tecchou strides in first. your breath hitches when a smaller figure walks in with another larger one. you can feel the look jouno is casting your way, knowing well he felt the way your heartbeat began to race, the way your breath caught in your throat, and the way you tremble with nerves.

you were right. he does look older, but most importantly he still looks just as handsome. maybe even more so than before. you also notice he’s grown into his uniform, unlike the baggy uniform he wore the last time you saw him, this one fits him perfectly.

instead of greeting everyone else (you suppose this wasn’t the first meeting he’s had with the rest since infiltrating the port mafia) tachihara dives right into the conversation you were having previously.

“what about me?”

you don’t miss the way the ginger’s eyes scan the room and light up the second they meet your own and you don’t miss the way he makes a beeline for the empty seat next to you. “our captain here, believes that he still has a boyish charm about him…”

“...ah…uh huh… so old age has made the geezer delusional then?” tachihara grins proudly at you, a dimpled smile on full display, as he claims the empty seat as his own.

you let out a bubbly giggle, unable to contain yourself and nod. “i’m afraid so!”

“hey!” the older man whines in a way that’s reminiscent of teruko. “i am not old.”

jouno and tecchou chime in while teruko and your captain argue against why you’re all wrong. you watch them all with a fond smile and a warmth in your chest. you’ve missed this, missed them all. having michizo next to you made it all feel complete, like you’re whole again.

the ginger leans in cautiously, watching for any hesitation on your part, but he won’t find any. “what about you? what do you think? am i charming?”

you study his face for a moment, all the previously soft edges of his face have smoothed out, only leaving sharp features. even his eyes are far more calculating than they were before he left. one thing that hasn’t changed though, his boyish smile. the indents in his cheeks give way to his young age. for once you're happy to see that some things never change.

apparently, your conversation wasn’t a private one as fukuchi chimes in. “it pains me to say but you have the most boyish charm out of all of us, even greater than mine - but only by a little.”

you chuckle at the stubborn man’s words and tachihara follows suit. the soft rumbled noise he makes is deeper and that’s when you realize, it’s not just his laugh that’s gotten deeper — his voice has a certain gruffness it didn’t have before. it’s subtle but it’s soothing, much like a lullaby.

you wink at the ginger and respond in a teasing tone, “fukuchi is right, tachihara, your boyish charm could get you out of all sorts of trouble. it’s definitely those cute dimples of yours.”

doa: nikolai (wc: 837)

you don’t even remember what you just said. or where you are. or what you two are even doing here. all you know is that nikolai is sitting in front of you laughing like a madman. it’s not one of his usual forced cackles, no, this one is possibly the first genuine laugh you’ve seen from him. his real laugh is far lighter than the crackled and loud noises that slip past his lips when he plays his little games. you find yourself trying to memorize the sound, much preferring this laugh to the previously mentioned one.

his face is relaxed too. the twisted grin he usually wears has melted away into a bright smile that reaches his cheeks, making the most stunning little indents in them. nikolai truly is gorgeous and you find yourself thinking he’s even more beautiful when he lets himself relax. his uncovered eye sparkles as he wipes away the tears that built up from his fit of laughter.

you’ve always thought that nikolai himself is just beautiful in general but when he’s like this? you can’t help but to stare.

and of course, the clown notices. “whatcha staring at, chickadee?”

it’s teasing, a lilt in his voice that’s just a little too cheery. your attention, which was previously zeroed in on nikolai’s isolated features, focuses out and onto him as a whole. his head is tilted to the side, staring at you curiously.

you’re suddenly acutely aware of the fond smile that’s plastered on your face. you gather your bearings and turn that smile into a frown, crossing your arms across your chest, you stubbornly look away. you let out an exasperated puff of air.

“nothing.” your voice comes out deadpanned.

nikolai prances his way over to you, standing on his toes and leaning in. you swear he has no sense of personal space, you doubt he even knows the meaning of it. your lips immediately curl up in discomfort and you lean away from him, trying to create as much distance as possible without actually stepping back. your attempts are futile, though, his tall stature and freakishly good balance allows him to follow you.

the white haired clown lets out a snort. “ah, come on, that answer’s no fun!”

“it wasn’t s’posed to be, gogol.” your expression is uninterested but internally you aren’t as confident in your ability to keep your composure.

nikolai dramatically pouts at you and straightens back up, doing a little twirl that you think is quite ridiculous. but that’s nikolai, ridiculous and unabashed. you straighten up too and watch him wearily. his sheer amount of energy seems to drain your own, sucking the life out of you the longer you’re around him. his eccentricity is something that you’re still not accustomed to.

nikolai perks up and you almost wince knowing you’re not going to like whatever thought it is that just lit him up like a lightbulb.

“let��s play a game then!” you can’t help the way you eye him suspiciously. “we each tell the other our favorite things about the other. we’ll start with favorite feature!”

“no.”

“yes!”

your eye twitches at how quick he is to reject your refusal. the twitching intensifies when he starts humming the jeopardy theme and prancing around you, clearly waiting for your approval. you decide you’re gonna be bullheaded on this one — or, at the very least, try to be.

“absolutely not.”

nikolai let’s out a foul buzzer noise “absolutely! c’mon. i’ll go first-”

“nikolai. no.”

there’s now a dull pounding in your head and you’re starting to think that maybe conceding is the best option to get him to stop.

“nikolai. yes!” his grin is wide and you can tell he’s caught on to your waning perseverance.

you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, a sign of you accepting defeat. “if i tell you, will you stop bouncing around like that and calm down?”

“cross my heart and hope to die!” his tone is cheery, sing-song and light.

you know — you know — you’re going to regret this later but you could care less at this particular moment. anything to give you a sliver of peace.

“fine…your dimples, they’re my favorite feature of yours, they’re…mesmerizing…”

you look away embarrassed at the admission, missing the way nikolais face softens for a moment. then he winds up again, like a toy soldier that just had its key turned to the max. he’s moving around you with twice the amount of gusto as he was before his promise, practically vibrating. you scowl at him, displeased.

“you promised you would knock that off, you clown.”

the said clown gives you a pleased grin and sings out again. “i lied!”

you cannot believe you let him trick you like that, your ire making your skin crawl. or maybe that’s your embarrassment prickling at your skin and making it flush. you try not to let your mind linger on it too much as you let a response fly out of your mouth.

“then die.”

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perkypeony · 3 months

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𝕊𝕃𝔼𝔼ℙ𝕐ℍ𝔼𝔸𝔻

Umemiya Hajime x girlfriend reader

Umemiya Hajime felt a surge of pride every time he looked at you. Female students at Furin High were a minority, and each of them had countless boys crushing over them. Yet, you chose him over all those admirers. Today, you were with him on the rooftop, diligently working on your math exercises—the only subject you excelled at—while Umemiya tended to his plants as usual. You had opted for a tracksuit bottom and Umemiya’s jersey instead of your school uniform, not that anyone cared.

After a while, the numbers started to blur together, and Umemiya’s soothing voice ranting about his plants lulled you to sleep. You drifted off, your head resting on your folded arms on the table.

Sometime later, Hiragi and his team arrived to see Umemiya. They all sat around the table, forming a group. Umemiya sat beside you and gently tried to wake you up, “Hey, wake up. Hiragi’s here.”

You whined and hugged his arm tightly, your face buried in his sleeve. “Five more minutes,” you mumbled.

He chuckled, ruffling your hair. “She’s out cold,” he said to Hiragi, unconcerned about showing his affection in front of others. He continued to listen to Hiragi's report, his focus split between you and his team.

Suddenly, you woke up, yawning. As your vision cleared, you saw Hiragi and the first-years sitting around the table. You swore you could see Suo holding back his laughter at your sleepy face.

“Must be nice to take a nap while we were out fighting, huh,” Hiragi teased.

Blushing, you scolded Umemiya. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

He smiled, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I tried. You just wouldn’t wake up.”

Embarrassed, you buried your face in his chest, hiding your flushed cheeks. “Great, now I look like an idiot.”

Umemiya couldn’t stop laughing. “You always know how to make things interesting.”

You pouted, peeking up at him. “I wanted to look like a mysterious senior, not a sleepyhead.”

Hiragi chuckled. “Well, mysterious might be a stretch, but you’ve definitely left an impression.”

You sighed, feeling the warmth spread through you as Umemiya wrapped an arm around you. “Don't be mad, we're just joking." He then leaned down, whispering softly, "You just made my day, really.”

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but smile. Knowing that you brought such joy to him made everything worth it.

#wind breaker #wind breaker fluff #umemiya hajime fluff #umemiya hajime #hajime umemiya #umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya fluff #umemiya x reader

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librababe99 · 1 month

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Through Crimson Glass: Part One

CW: feelings of guilt, self doubt, isolation, physical injury, hurt/no comfort, strangers to friends, friends to lovers...

Word Count: 1391

AN: Sorry that i'm blowing up your timelines tonight! I been so into writing and wanting to get things out for y'all ❤️ For those of you who voted for Scott on the poll this past weekend...this is for you! - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨

The mansion loomed ahead, its gothic architecture softened by the golden rays of the setting sun. You stood at the edge of the vast lawn, clutching the straps of your backpack as if it were the only thing keeping you tethered to the ground. The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters—your new home, though the word “home” felt foreign on your tongue. You weren’t sure what to expect from this place, only that it was meant to be a refuge for people like you. People who didn’t fit anywhere else.

“Hey, you must be the new recruit.”

The voice startled you, and you turned to see a tall figure walking toward you. He was dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans, but what caught your attention were the red-tinted glasses that obscured his eyes. His expression was calm, almost unreadable, but there was something in the way he carried himself—a quiet strength that made you feel both comforted and nervous at the same time.

“Scott Summers,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand. His voice was gentle, though it held an underlying authority that made you instinctively straighten your posture.

You shook his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. You introduced yourself with a soft tone. Meeting new people has always been difficult for you, especially with your powers—your emotions had a tendency to bleed into those around you, overwhelming them if you weren’t careful. But Scott didn’t seem fazed by your hesitation. If anything, his calm demeanor seemed to anchor you.

“Professor Xavier told me you’d be arriving today,” Scott said, releasing your hand. “I’m one of the senior members of the team. I’ll be helping you get settled in.”

You nodded, grateful for his kindness. He gestured for you to follow him, and you fell into step beside him as he led you toward the mansion. The grounds were vast, with gardens and wooded areas that stretched out as far as you could see. It was beautiful, but there was an underlying tension in the air—a reminder that this place, for all its serenity, was also a fortress.

“You’re a telepath, right?” Scott asked, glancing at you. “Or something similar?”

You hesitated, unsure how to explain your abilities. “Not exactly. I can… manipulate emotions,” you said slowly, trying to find the right words. “It’s not like reading minds, but I can sense what people are feeling. Sometimes, if I’m not careful, I can push those emotions onto others. Make them feel what I’m feeling.”

Scott nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a powerful ability,” he said. “But I can see why it might be difficult to control.”

You looked down at your feet, feeling the familiar weight of guilt settle in your chest. “It’s why I’m here. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You won’t,” Scott said firmly, his tone reassuring. “We’ll help you learn to control it. That’s what this place is for.”

His words, though simple, held a conviction that made you want to believe him. You glanced up at him, finding comfort in the certainty of his expression. For the first time in a long while, you felt a flicker of hope.

Over the next few weeks, Scott became a constant presence in your life. He took his role as your mentor seriously, guiding you through training sessions designed to help you control your powers. The exercises were exhausting, both physically and emotionally, but Scott was always there, offering support and encouragement whenever you stumbled.

At first, you were wary of letting him get too close. Your emotions were a volatile thing, prone to lashing out when you were overwhelmed. But Scott’s patience slowly wore down your defenses. He never pushed you to open up, instead allowing you to set the pace. It wasn’t long before you found yourself looking forward to your sessions with him, not just because of the progress you were making, but because of the connection that was slowly forming between you.

There were moments, in the quiet spaces between training drills, when you would catch Scott watching you. His gaze would linger a moment too long, his expression unreadable behind his glasses. And in those moments, you could feel the undercurrent of something more—something unspoken that made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the exertion of your training.

It was during one of these moments that the shift between you and Scott became undeniable.

The day had been particularly grueling. You were pushed to your limits, trying to hold back the tide of emotions that surged within you. Scott had designed an exercise to help you isolate your feelings, to focus them into something manageable. But the harder you tried, the more it felt like you were drowning in them.

Finally, Scott called an end to the session. You collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath as sweat dripped down your face. Your muscles ached, but it was the strain on your mind that left you feeling utterly drained. Scott crouched beside you, offering you a bottle of water. You took it gratefully, though your hands trembled as you unscrewed the cap.

“You did well today,” Scott said quietly, his voice cutting through the haze of your exhaustion. “I know it’s not easy, but you’re getting stronger.”

You nodded, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of failure that clung to you. “It doesn’t feel like it,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m just… holding on by a thread.”

Scott’s hand rested on your shoulder, the touch grounding you. “It’s okay to feel that way,” he said. “What you’re doing is hard, but you don’t have to do it alone. We’re a team. I’m here for you.”

His words, combined with the warmth of his hand on your shoulder, caused a crack in the walls you had so carefully built around your heart. You turned to look at him, your eyes searching his face for any sign of doubt. But all you saw was sincerity—an unwavering belief in you that you couldn’t fully comprehend.

“Why do you care so much?” you asked, your voice trembled with the weight of the question.

Scott’s expression softened, and for a moment, the mask of calm confidence slipped. “Because I’ve been where you are,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I know what it’s like to feel like you’re a danger to everyone around you. To feel like you’re fighting a battle you can’t win. But you can win this. I know you can.”

The intensity of his words, combined with the raw honesty in his voice, overwhelmed you. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you. Scott didn’t pull away. Instead, he met you halfway, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was gentle, almost hesitant.

The world seemed to still as you both lingered in that moment, your emotions intertwining with his in a way that felt like both a relief and a release. It was as if all the unspoken feelings that had built up between you were finally allowed to surface, pouring into the kiss with a fervor that left you breathless.

When you finally pulled away, you found yourself staring into Scott’s eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. His glasses had slipped slightly, allowing you to see a glimpse of the blue beneath them. For a moment, the vulnerability in his gaze mirrored your own, and you realized that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment of passion. It was the beginning of something deeper—something that both terrified and exhilarated you.

Scott’s hand was still on your shoulder, his thumb gently tracing circles against your skin. “We’ll figure this out together,” he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet determination that made you believe him.

You nodded, your throat too tight with emotion to speak. In that moment, with the weight of Scott’s gaze and the memory of his kiss still lingering on your lips, you felt something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in a long time: hope.

For the first time since you arrived at the mansion, you felt like you might actually belong. Not just at Xavier’s, but with Scott. And that, more than anything, was a glimpse of paradise you never thought you’d find.

#scott summers #scott summers x you #scott summers x reader #gender neutral reader #xmen fandom #xmen fanfiction #cyclops #cyclops x reader #Through Crimson Glass

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xannytranny · 5 months

Text

Challengers AU

Summary: You felt like you were on top of the world. Suddenly, it felt like your world flipped upside down. Torn between love for your sport and choosing the love of your life, you don't know what's up or down. AKA, a Challengers-esque AU but with basketball instead of tennis.

Part 1

Pairings: You x OC; eventual You x Paige x Caitlin

Warnings: None (?), swearing, slightly toxic dynamics (?)

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Second Person POV

Life was great. Your team won last year's NCAA championship, and against all odds, you guys were headed into this year's Sweet Sixteen.

Life was great. You're going into your senior year, your last year of playing with your favorite people. You've gotten close to all the girls on the team, and they've essentially become your sisters. You're favorite, above all, was your girlfriend, Mackenzie.

Life was great, and it was about to get even better. You and Mackenzie were talking to several WBNA, and both of you were slated to be within the top five picks. You guys may end up across the country from each other, but you'd make it work because this was your dream.

Life was great. So why the hell did it feel like a lie every time you said it?

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

First Person POV

I hop around lightly, bopping my head to the music blaring from my earbuds. I shake out my arms, pulling them across my chest to stretch. I sat on the locker room bench, dropping my head and closing my eyes to focus on breathing. I could feel a presence sitting next to me, but I ignored them until I finished my exercises.

I open my eyes and pull out my earbuds, looking toward the new presence. When I see it's Mackenzie, I smile slightly, "Hey you."

"You alright?" She asks, nudging our knees together.

I soften, nodding, "Just nervous, I guess." I shrug.

Mackenzie scoffs, "Unlike me, this isn't your first Team US selection." Her tone sounds joking, but it still has that underlying bitterness I've come to associate with our conversations. I ignore it and shrug.

"Selection doesn't mean anything if you can't bring home a win," I tell her, frowning.

"Would you relax? This is only for gold medals and participation trophies." She snaps at me.

I roll my eyes, standing. "Can you just leave? I need to focus."

Mackenzie scoffs and turns to leave, mumbling under her breath. I ignore her, which seems to be a theme these days, and return to stretching. I stay like that until Coach comes to collect us. I don't acknowledge Mackenzie as we begin walking toward the tunnel, my mind only on the game that's about to happen.

I jog out of the tunnel when I hear my name called. I wave to the crowds in the stands, then run down the line, slapping hands with my teammates. I join the line, greeting the rest of my teammates. Once the introductions are finished, I get into position for tip-off.

Tying my hair back and getting low, I watch intently as the ref tosses the ball into the air. I grin as the ball is batted in my direction, catching it and taking off toward the basket.

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

Third Person POV

Caitlin and Paige sat side by side, watching the game. When they heard you were selected for the team, they knew they had to get tickets. You were everything they wanted to be as a basketball player, not to mention you were fucking hot.

"Dude fucking look at her go," Paige nudged Caitlin, pointing toward where you just made a tough layup.

Caitlin nudged her back, "I see her," She mumbled, not taking her eyes off you.

In fact, neither one of them had taken their eyes off you since you came out of the tunnel. You were magnetic, electric, and just plain fun to watch. The entire stadium seemed to roar for you, and you basked in the attention readily, sending winks and kisses into the crowd.

Only one thought was going through their mind as they watched you: I have to have her.

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

Alright, so this is the intro to the fic I posted about yesterday. Let me know what you guys are thinking.

#paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #caitlin clark smut #caitlin clark x reader #iowa wbb #uconn wbb

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amethystsoda · 3 months

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lol was wondering how long it would take as a plus size person who likes cooking for someone to make a comment like this 🙄🙄

New research

Now look, I don’t owe this anon any medical history. But I feel like I gotta defend myself I guess, so buckle in…

My weight gain started with puberty and hormones. I was literally a twig as a child. My mom says they couldn’t find pants that fit me.

I was always plus size as a teen. But I rode my bike a lot as exercise. I didn’t have control over food because my mom decided what and when I was allowed to eat (and I was homeschooled). I didn’t often get snacks. The only time we usually cooked was me and my dad at night.

I have a vivid memory of my mom pulling my shirt up in the back and grabbing at my back fat telling me I was getting stretch marks.

During this time, I also developed Hidradenitis Suppurativa flares in my armpits, thighs, under boobs etc. Not as a result of being fat, but because of hormones and effed up genetics.

During flares, it hurts even to move and brush up against them. Putting band aids on sometimes makes it worse because I’m allergic to the sticky material and my skin breaks out worse.

In college I lost a ton of weight because I had to walk everywhere. Buuuut, senior year I had a lot of emotional trauma happen and moving back in with parents after college made it worse.

After college, I had major allergy outbreaks and stress related symptoms. I also got into a car crash (not my fault) that severely messed up my muscles and mobility for a while. I would often get nauseated and couldn’t eat at times because of internal injuries healing.

Also my family made me do Keto/Low Carb for a while around 2018, but then I was just starving myself, unhappy, and plateaued. I was straight up a low carb influencer for a while, but stopped when it wasn’t sustainable.

Even while low carb/a smaller weight, I still had to deal with hidradenitis flares. Because, again, hormone related, not weight based.

So now, after a long battle with myself, I try to eat balanced meals (yes, even with carbs and sweet things in the morning), get exercise (my job has me lifting heavy stuff a lot and I try to do DDR or go on walks), and try to combat allergies and mast cell activation (which has been my current biggest battle and I’m learning more about histamines).

I have no intention of being on my 600 pound life, but just because I enjoy food doesn’t mean I deserve to be yelled at.

If my genetics decided that I was a twig and I made honey toast, you wouldn’t even say anything.

So I’m going to continue fighting for respect for plus size people, making meals that I enjoy and that nourish me or treat me, and fight for my own healing and health journey.

You don’t get to tell me that I can’t love myself and you certainly don’t get to decide what I eat.

Go take your hatred elsewhere because it’s not going to work here.

#combine this with untreated/ignored adhd and autism as a kid. and religious trauma. c/onservative politics.#also dealing with hypermobile joints 😔😔#it’s quite a trauma cocktail #fatphobia #weight mention #nerd cooking tag #trauma mention #mean ghosts #amethyst rambles #amethyst chats

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fitnessmantram · 1 year

Video

youtube

morning back pain exercise5 Minutes Morning Exercise for all Day Energy #morningexercise #fitness ...

5 Minutes Morning Exercise for all Day Energy

Starting your day with a short workout can help you feel more energized and alert throughout the day. Even a 5-minute routine can make a big difference in your mood, focus, and overall well-being.

Here are some simple exercises that you can do in just 5 minutes to boost your energy levels:

Jumping jacks: Jumping jacks are a great way to get your heart rate up and your blood flowing. Do 30 jumping jacks in a row, or break them up into sets of 10.

Body-weight squats: Squats are a compound exercise that works your legs, core, and glutes. Do 20 body-weight squats in a row, or break them up into sets of 10.

Plank: The plank is a great way to strengthen your core and improve your balance. Hold a plank for as long as you can, or aim for 30 seconds.

Push-ups: Push-ups are a great way to work your chest, shoulders, and triceps. Do as many push-ups as you can, or modify by doing them on your knees.

Stretching: Stretching helps to improve your flexibility and range of motion. Hold each stretch for 30 seconds.

You can do these exercises in any order, and you can modify them to fit your fitness level. If you're just starting out, you may want to start with fewer repetitions or a shorter duration.

Once you've gotten the hang of these exercises, you can gradually increase the intensity or duration of your workout. You can also add other exercises, such as lunges, crunches, or burpees.

The important thing is to find a routine that you enjoy and that you can stick with. Even a 5-minute workout is better than no workout at all!

Here are some additional benefits of doing a short morning workout:

Improved mood: Exercise releases endorphins, which have mood-boosting effects.

Increased energy levels: Exercise helps to wake you up and give you more energy throughout the day.

Better sleep: Exercise can help you sleep better at night.

Reduced stress levels: Exercise is a great way to relieve stress and tension.

Weight loss: Exercise can help you burn calories and lose weight.

If you're looking for a way to improve your energy levels and overall health, a short morning workout is a great place to start. Just 5 minutes a day can make a big difference!

Read more: The Power of a 28-Day Workout Challenge

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cecedownbad · 1 year

Text

Not Alone

Summary: Training to be an agent couldn't be any more hectic, or any less a pain in the ass. But a new change never hurt anyone, say, what if that change was a person?

Word count: 1.4k

Warning: Not proofread, fluff, may have written less Leon content than I should have but such is the freedom of writing, can't write combat for shit, no Y/N. GN! Reader.

You can imagine RE2 Leon for this cause it's pre RE4R, that is up to you tho!

Enjoy

The locker room was silent, the subtle creaks of the old hinges were all that caught one's ear. Sitting alone by the benches, a deep breath in, and one out. This was it, time for another round of getting your ass beat.

You slowly force yourself to get up, clenching your fists and gnawing on the inner side of your mouth because here comes another day, another wonderful training session right after your measly breakfast and early morning jog, it's a start to your daily routine. A very shitty daily routine.

"Okay, okay, I practiced last night, this shouldn't be hard, remember to block their hits." With a huff, your hands reach for the door knob and slowly turn it open, hoping that you were miraculously early and no one bothered to get into uniform, you quickly raise your head to see three other trainees, all waiting for the day to start. Two were doing warm up exercises, a few stretches and one was jogging in place, the third one had closed his eyes and holding a training knife in his hands.

You scan the room for any more visitors but there weren't any so you made your way to a corner and began doing a few sets, some planks and push-ups. Going rather smoothly, you trusted yourself to be able to handle doing a push up using one hand. Having done it before, a set of 20 was easy enough to accomplish with a single hand keeping you balanced.

The next part of your warm up, or this practice before the real one starts was working on one on one defence, hand to hand combat was what you struggled with. Throwing a mean punch was not all it took to get by around here, defence was important and although you were great at handling weapons, the sniper rifle being your best, hand to hand combat goes a long way.

You closed your eyes, keeping your breath steady and guarded your body, setting the stature in a solid form, one that was known to hardly break. Breathe in, breathe out, this was going well enough, imagining an opponent in place of the dummy had set things in motion for you.

You were ready to kick the dummy in the side, lifting your leg you packed as much force you could pivot your leg and waited for the dummy to bend to the other open side. However, your leg was stopped half way, not even fully reaching the dummy. You harshly pulled your captured limb free and found the cause of the disruption standing ahead of you. " We're rounding up, calling your name didn't work." The man honing a sharp side part hair dusted his hand off, wearing the same uniform as you did but he carried himself like that of an already experienced agent.

Leon was his name, being whispered about in hallways, nightly playing card sessions, the most predictable area were the bathrooms. He didn't say much, nor did he seem like he wanted to, but the first person you see in the mornings, at even the ungodliest hours were this man. He would be pacing, training by himself or simply reading a book. A natural wall was built around his corner, and only a stubborn few would cross it. Nothing about him was innately alarming. Personal space and time alone is what everyone here needs, but you question your findings at times, does this man ever sleep?

Wiping away your sweat with your hand towel, you gather with the rest of them, standing at ease as the senior agent did his daily checks.

After which, you begrudgingly head on to your station, reluctantly grabbing your training knife. A close up knife fight was another detail you, although struggling, and trying impossibly hard to retain the positions, keeping the knife close at your side while avoiding openings was your most called out flaw. Training alone has its perks but with no one to correct you, or willing to do so, unawareness of improvement came at a price.

Together with the other trainees, you go over the stances, holding a tight grip over your training knife. Your non-dominant hand raised to protect your fatal spots and the dominant one pointed forward, carrying the weapon.

It was time to turn to training with a partner and with your, in a word, hapless moment, you were left scanning for an opponent. That was till you felt a palm tap on your shoulder, and still guarded, you elbow the rather unfortunate fool behind you, hearing a low grunt escape from them. Facing the cause of the sound, it was Leon, though not crippled on the floor from the knock on the side of his abdomen, he still held his side, huffing.

"Crap, you alright?"

"Don't worry about it, I can walk this one off."

"I am so sorry!"

"It's fine, should have called out to you instead."

He gathered himself better after that and got readied up for training. "I suppose you don't mind if we exchange introductions?" This was momentary but who wouldn't love a good, what is your favourite colour session? Audibly and rather in amusement, he let out a chuckle, subtle yet breathy, "An introduction? since when did this place have a need for that?" This was all too entertaining for him, a person in this heartless hole wants to pretend to exchange friendly banter, a first but that was all he has assumed in his own experiences.

"Then, Kennedy-" you eyed the name woven on his uniform, "Let's get started, I'd prefer it if you didn't outright kill me." A smile formed on your face, one that held behind an expression of interest to the man before you.

"Let's."

You circled in, eyeing his movements, holding your breath. You hated all of this, anxiety spewed falsehoods into your brain in plagues of what ifs or maybes. The sweat streaming down your back sent a shiver to your spine, not obvious but enough for you to step forward, causing a flow of reactions from Leon, it wasn't your intention to make the first move but that set things in motion. You aimed for his neck but he was quick to deflect, a clatter of metal startled you but just as your hand slipped, he quickly went in for a place around your ribs.

That motion scared you but be it a fight or flight instinct, you used your legs to tip him over. A faint attempt, he caught on quickly and stepped aside at the perfect moment. This continued on for a while, you made attempts, he deflected, you would narrowly escape his attacks and finally, that was when you called it a quits.

Chugging the water to where your items were placed, the scenes of where possible mistakes were made replayed in your mind, that was how you would critique and better yourself at the company of nothing but the room and the soft breaths after harsh training. "Do you train a lot?" A question passed on from the man that almost could have killed you, if this were an actual knife fight of course.

"Yeah, by myself most of the time, why? Did I do something I shouldn't have, was I too slow? Hold on—"

"No, it wasn't bad, mind if I suggest something?" He stepped closer, hair long that you could see it grazed his nose. This was the first time you could get a proper look at him, eyes a deep blue with a hint of grey that traced the edges of the blue. His lashes lay long on his lids, they were enviously beautiful, his nose was thin but the creases around it had shaped them well. You could gaze at him for a well deserved period, only now realising that his features speak stories of their own fortitude. "Ahem, Y-Yeah sure, what is it?" Holding in your curiosity, you continue the conversation.

"Mind if I join you? I think we'd make a great team." He stated, raising excitement with his tone. "That would be awesome! This is...just for training though right?" You questioned. "Yeah, I mean, only if you're interested, we could handle more than just knife combat, what do you say?" His lips stretch out so slightly, parting to a smile that was so quick to lose sight of. "Sure, I'm in!"

You raise your arm, hand extended to shake his own to form a unit, which he gladly accepted. Was this the start of no more horrible routines? The man entailed in whispers was now your acquaintance, the very man you had only seen but never initiated a definite greeting is now your training buddy. This was new, and with how you took notice of his features, he too seemed curious about the person that he could only manage to glance at, wondering, when do they ever sleep?

"So...do I keep calling you Kennedy or is it time for introductions?"

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil #re4r #resident evil 4 remake #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x gn reader #no y/n #re4 #re2 #resident evil 2 remake #I enjoyed this one #it's been in my drafts for a while so I hope you enjoyed it too!#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine

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nancylfitness · 8 months

Text

Flex and Stretch While Sitting

One theory as to why prolonged sitting is harmful to one’s health is that while sitting, the large muscles become relaxed. As these muscles relax they do not take up very much glucose from the blood. As a result, the risk for Type II diabetes becomes increased along with heart disease and some cancers.

Immediately after sitting down, muscle electrical activity and metabolism slow down, as a result less calories are burned. Only 1 calorie per minute is burned while sitting. That is 1/3 of what the body burns when walking.

After a prolonged period of this lifestyle, LDL cholesterol (bad) increases and weight gain occurs.

Sitting can also cause hip flexor and hamstring muscles (back of thigh) to tighten. This may lead to joints and knees becoming stiff and back pain.

As we sit at the computer our shoulders are usually forward and we are hunched over for extended periods of time. Our bodies are not designed to sit all day.

After just two weeks of sitting, muscles begin to atrophy and oxygen consumption decreases, making it more difficult to climb stairs and walk the longer distances. Incorrect computer posture habits combined with long-term sitting may cause medical problems such as: cumulative trauma disorder (CTD) or repetitive stress injury (RSI).

It has also been shown that in women bone mass can drop by 1% after a year of sitting for 6 hours a day. Reduce these effects of long term sitting; take breaks; switch things up:

Stand every 45 minutes to 1 hour (set alarm or timer). Standing up for 1 – 2 minutes every hour will reduce the negative effects of sitting all day.

March in place for twenty seconds.

Reach down and try to touch your toes for twenty seconds.

Maintain intervals of moderate activity during the day.

Exercises / stretches that can be performed at your desk:

Sitting in your chair, lift one leg off the seat.

extend it out straight, hold for 2 seconds;

lower your foot – do not touch floor – hold for several seconds.

Switch

Do each leg 10-15 times.

MORE –

Sitting Weight Shift

Sit with feet flat on floor, and on hands for support.

Lean forward through hips bringing nose over knees.

Return.

Now, lean backward through hips.

Hold each position 7-10 seconds.

Repeat several times through the day.

Shoulder Blade Squeeze (Adduction)

2. Draw shoulders back, bringing elbows back and inward

3. squeeze shoulder blades).

4. Hold for 6 seconds.

5. Repeat 4-6 times.

Low Back Sitting with Rotation

1. Sit on edge of seat, one hand on opposite knee, other hand on chair.

2. Keep feet parallel.

3. Pull with hand on knee and, if needed, push with hand on chair to rotate trunk to that side.

4. Hold 7-10 seconds.

5. Repeat on other side.

6. Do 2-4 rotations on each side.

Hip Extensors / Rotators

1. Sit back straight, right ankle crossed over left thigh.

2. Grasp bent knee with both hands.

3. Gently rotate left shoulder toward bent knee and begin to pull right knee toward left shoulder.

4. Resist the knee pull by using hip muscles, 7-10 seconds.

5. Maintaining position, relax, then pull knee closer to shoulder.

6. Hold 7-10 seconds.

7. Repeat on other side.

Low Back Stretch

1. Sit in chair with knees spread apart.

2. Bend forward toward the floor.

3. A comfortable should be felt in lower back.

4. Hold 7-10 seconds. Repeat several times.

#nancylfitness #personaltraineronline #senior fitness instructor #sitting stretches #computer posture #LDL #prolonged sitting #seated exercise #tight hamstrings #RSI #repetitive stress injury #hip flexor #shoulder blades #low back

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scribbledghost · 3 months

Note

I have a terrible immune system and I've got multiple folders full to the brim with my medical history to prove it. To be specific though, I've mainly had issues with my kidney and liver and it's been to points where it's given my family a scare and me having to spend time in the hospital. During my senior year in high school, my family and I even had so many meetings with the school about my attendance because I had so many doctors appointments (they were asses about it and not at all understanding. Literally acted as if I could control it 🙄). But anyways, I'm just curious how Fem! Simon would feel about all this. I'm sure she'd be extra protective and more attentive in taking care of her girlfriend with medical issues, having to follow specific diets, do certain exercises, etc.

She definitely lets her military training shine through here, so to speak. When she finds out exactly what you need to be doing and when, what sort of diets you need to be following, etc., she's on top of it.

Though, she'll be the first to admit she gets upset on your behalf when you tell her how everyone essentially ignored/dismissed the issue when you were younger. Especially when it resulted in a hospital stay. But that was then, and this is now, and you've got her now (and hopefully plenty more supportive people in your life).

You're definitely correct in that she's extra protective here, likely to the point where you may have to gently tell her that you're not made of glass. She does mean well, it's just that she may get a bit carried away when you clue her in to all of the intricacies of your condition.

After some time though, the two of you fall into sort of a routine. She intrinsically knows when you're due for a refill on whatever medicines you need, even if you don't tell her. Simon also makes sure plenty of food for you is stocked when she's home, never wanting you to go hungry just because she forgot to get a specific type of food that you can eat.

I like to think Simon also enjoys doing your particular exercises with you. She's pretty active herself, so any sort of physical activity you'll do with her is like. A good Couples Activity for her. Whether it's something intense or something like particular stretches, she'll be glad to help you out with it.

She... worries when she's away on deployment. Probably checks up on you frequently herself, or begs Laswell or Price to do it if she's gone dark. She doesn't mean to insinuate you can't manage yourself - she knows you can - she just gets fidgety when she's so far away from you.

But when she's home, it's like a well-oiled machine. She'd like to be kept in the loop with whatever you've got going on, and your health is no exception here. Simon will gladly go to doctor's appointments with you too, and she usually comes prepared with a decent number of questions.

#fem simon #fem reader #ghost scribbles #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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usafphantom2 · 2 months

Text

AC-130J Ghostrider Gunship Has Operated From A Highway For The First Time

Operating from highways could make AC-130J gunships more survivable and flexible, but questions remain about their role in high-end fights.

Joseph Trevithick Posted on Aug 5, 2024 1:51 PM EDT

The US Air Force says an AC-130J Ghostrider gunship has operated from a highway for the first time as part of the service's larger push to reduce its dependence on traditional runways. This is also comes amid questions about the future of the gunships in future high-end fights.

USAF capture

An AC-130J Ghostrider gunship has operated from a highway for the first time during a recent exercise, according to the U.S. Air Force. This reflects a push across the U.S. military to be less dependent on traditional runways and established bases that would be high-priority targets for enemy forces during a future major conflict, such as one in the Pacific against China. This also comes as hard questions are being asked about what roles and missions there might be for the AC-130J in a high-end fight after the type has spent the past two decades supporting counter-terrorism and other lower-intensity operations.

The AC-130J in question landed on and then subsequently took off from a stretch of U.S. Highway 63 in Bono, Arkansas, on August 4 as part of the larger Emerald Warrior Field Training Exercise II (FTX II). An MC-130J Commando II special operations tanker-transport, a C-146A Wolfhound special operations light transport aircraft, and a standard C-130H cargo plane also participated in the road operations training. With the exception of the C-130H, all of these aircraft were from units assigned to Air Force Special Operations Command (AFSOC). The C-130H was from the Arkansas Air National Guard’s 189th Airlift Wing.

“The MC-130J crew then set up a Forward Arming and Refueling Point (FARP), as the AC-130J assigned to the 1st Special Operations Wing at Hurlburt Field, Florida, made its approach, landed, refueled, rearmed, and took off again,” according to an Air Force release. “The primary objective of this exercise was to validate AFSOC’s capability to operate in austere environments with minimal infrastructure.”

A picture showing personnel setting up the Forward Arming and Refueling Point (FARP) using the MC-130J as the hub during the road operations portion of Emerald Warrior FTX II. USAF Senior Airman Ty Pilgrim

“The exercise provided an opportunity for participating units to refine their skills and advance ongoing pathfinding and experimentation efforts within AFSOC,” the release added.

A picture for the road operations portion of Emerald Warrior FTX II showed what appears to be a Common Launch Tube (CLT) being unloaded from a transit canister. What other munitions Air Force personnel may have practiced loading aboard the AC-130J in this austere environment is unclear.

What looks to be a Common Launch Tube (CLT) being unloaded during the road operations portions of Emerald Warrior FTX II. USAF Senior Airman Ty Pilgrim

The AC-130J’s current armament package consists of a 30mm automatic cannon and a 105mm howitzer that fire out the left side of the aircraft, as well as the ability to employ a variety of precision-guided bombs and missiles. This includes precision munitions that are launched via CLTs, such as the GBU-44/B Viper Strike glide bomb and AGM-176 Griffin missile.

“This exercise serves as a significant milestone for AFSOC, demonstrating our ability to operate in diverse and austere environments,” Tech. Sgt. Robert Gallagher, assigned to the AFSOC Air Commando Development Center, who acted as the lead planner for the highway landings, said, according to the Air Force release. “By leveraging ACE concepts, we enhance our operational flexibility and resilience.”

ACE here stands for Agile Combat Employment, which refers to a set of concepts of operations centered on expeditionary and distributed deployments that occur at irregular intervals across a broadening number of operating locations. The core function of ACE is to upend enemy targeting cycles, and by extension reduce the vulnerability of friendly forces, by operating in a less predictable fashion. The video at the top of this story from Emerald Warrior FTX II highlights all of this by showing the AC-130J being able to get in and out relatively quickly. The C-130 family’s impressive reverse thrust capability is on display, as well.

Being able to operate from remote and austere environments, such as highways, is a key element of current ACE planning. As such, the Air Force special operations aircraft, like MC-130Js and C-146As, as well as conventional ones, like A-10 Warthog ground attack aircraft and standard C-130 cargo planes, have been conducting road operations training on an increasingly regular basis. MQ-9 Reaper drones have also participated in similar exercises in the past.

Other services have been involved in this new burst of roadway exercises in the past few years. The U.S. Marine Corps has also been very actively training to use roads and other alternatives to large traditional runways as part of the service’s own array of new expeditionary and distributed concepts of operations.

AFSOC, as well as other elements of the U.S. special operations community, already have a long history of operating from impromptu forward locations, often in sensitive or denied areas, but generally on a more ad-hoc mission-to-mission basis.

“We’ve recently been returning to tactics, techniques, and procedures to find out where all of the 3,000-foot straight highways in the world are” as part of a broader push to become “runway agnostic,” Air Force Lt. Gen. Tony Bauernfeind, then head of AFSOC, said last year. Bauernfeind is now superintendent of the United States Air Force Academy.

The C-130H from the 189th Airlift Wing on during the road operations portion of Emerald Warrior FTX II. Air National Guard Airman 1st Class Samuel Zang

For AC-130Js operating in their traditional special operations support role, being able to operate from roads and other remote locations on a more general basis could help allow them to fly (as well as refuel and rearm) closer to designated operating areas. This could increase their time on station and shorten how long it might take them to get to and from where they need to be, as well as just generally expand their operational flexibility.

At the same time, as the U.S. military shifts its main focus away from counter-terrorism and other low-intensity missions to preparing for high-end operations, especially in a potential future conflict against China, questions have emerged about AC-130J’s future. Even during the past two decades of support operations in largely permissive airspace over places like Iraq and Afghanistan, AC-130 gunships have operated almost exclusively at night in part to reduce vulnerability to potential threats from the ground. The War Zone just explored these broader issues facing the Ghostrider in the context of a rare appearance by one of the gunships at a sinking exercise (SINKEX) during the larger biennial Rim of the Pacific (RIMPAC) exercise, which just wrapped last week.

An AC-130J from the 27th Special Operations Wing at Marine Corps Air Station Kaneohe Bay in Hawaii during RIMPAC 2024. USAF

The Air Force is in the midst now of a review of the Ghostrider’s current and future capabilities that could lead to the aircraft losing their iconic, but relatively short-ranged 105mm howitzers. A plan to integrate a laser-directed energy weapon, described originally as having immense potential in lower-intensity warfare contexts, has already been scrapped.

There is growing emphasis now on increasing the AC-130J’s stand-off strike capabilities, including through the addition of small cruise missiles to the Ghostrider’s arsenal. The Air Force is looking into the potential of using other C-130 variants, including MC-130Js, as well as the C-17, as launch platforms for larger cruise missiles and other munitions using a palletized system called Rapid Dragon.

In addition, AFSOC is interested in adding a new active electronically scanned array (AESA) radar to the AC-130Js to help extend the reach of their targeting capabilities, as well as provide added situational awareness. The gunships have already been receiving upgrades to their electronic warfare and communications suites.

The AC-130J, its capabilities, and its roles and missions appear set to evolve significantly in the coming years. Operating more regularly from highways and other roads looks now to be on the horizon for the Ghostriders.

Contact the author: [email protected]

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yunhoee · 1 year

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Synopsis: Living post grad can be tough, especially when most of your friends are just entering their senior year. Your best friend invites you to play a practice game, but there couldn't possibly be ulterior motives could there?

Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader

Genre: non idol!au, soccer player!jongho, soccer player!reader, mainly fluff, suggestive

Wordcount: 2.6k

Note: This was originally a one-shot, but I may write more! Please let me know what you think :)

It’s a wild Friday night. Pajamas are on, you have your favorite comfort show on, and a bucket of ice cream all to yourself. You are casually scrolling through social media. A lot of your friends have moved back in for their final year of college. You graduated the year before them, which at the time you were thrilled to be done. Now seeing them all go back without you hurts. You were the captain of your soccer team, and seeing your teammates prepare for the indoor season without you is a little bit of a bummer.

You were able to land a corporate job, which you are of course grateful for. Most days are spent alone considering you work from home. You can’t deny the depression that is starting to creep back in. Your phone dings and you smile at the photo that your best friend, Lauren, sends you. The photo shows a smiling Lauren with the rest of your team, and you can see part of the men’s team trying to get into their photo. You chuckle and heart the photo in imessage. You can’t deny the pain you feel knowing you won’t be there this season.

Turning up your show to try to drown out the sadness seems like the best idea. Until your phone goes off again.

“You better not be moping all alone right now. We miss you.”

Lauren always has a sense for whenever you’re feeling sad. Something you love and hate about her. Mostly love.

Nah. I’m at a huge corporate rager. Drunk off my ass, might go home with someone.

Lauren replies almost immediately.

“Okay now I’m actually worried. Why don’t you play in our practice scrimmage tomorrow? The boys have an unfair advantage, so we need all the help we can get.”

You roll your eyes.

Don’t you think that would be a little pathetic? And what unfair advantage could they possibly have? You stomp them at every scrimmage.

As you wait for a response you think about joining your old team. I mean it is just a practice game, and it’s not like you have anything better to do. The exercise would be nice.

“Are you kidding? The team would be thrilled. We miss you all the time :(. The unfair advantage would be Marcus’ friend that is in town. They went to elementary school together when Marcus lived in Korea, and well he’s fucking incredible at soccer.”

You sigh and try not to think too much about your answer. Maybe just going with the flow will work out for me this one time.

Damn all you had to say was Marcus and I’m in. I can’t wait to see his face when we win. Just text me the details and I’ll be there.

Lauren sent you a voice memo of her and the rest of the girls screaming in excitement. You laugh and then start to get ready for bed. The scrimmage is at 9am so you need to make sure you get plenty of sleep.

Tomorrow comes and before you know it, you’re at the fieldhouse. You’re not sure why you were so nervous because the girls give you an enormous warm welcome. Lauren forces you to start stretching and warming up early since it’s been a few months since you’ve played. As you and Lauren are warming up together, you notice she has the biggest smirk on her face.

“Why are you smiling like that?”, You ask.

Lauren giggles, “Don’t hate me. We obviously needed you to beat the boy’s team, but I also had a bit of a side quest.”

You narrow your eyes, “What are you up to?”

Lauren says, “Well Marcus’ friend is super hot and good at soccer. I thought maybe you guys could get to know each other.”

“This was a set up?!” You gasp.

Lauren hushes you, “No one else knows. Even if you don’t want him to be your boyfriend, it could be a fun hookup. Just trust me on this.”

You roll your eyes, “Whatever. He better not be ugly.”

Lauren laughs as the two of you continue to warm up. You can’t deny the butterflies you feel at the idea of this mystery man. Lauren has never been wrong before, so you’re just hoping you can muster up enough courage to be yourself.

“Well well well. Look what the cat dragged in”

You immediately know who the voice belongs to. You turn and can’t help but smile.

“I’m not admitting that I missed you”, You say with your hands on your hips.

Marcus laughs and opens his arms. You both embrace until Marcus tries to squeeze the life out of you.

“Okay! Are you trying to squeeze me to death?!” You shout as you wiggle out of his embrace.

Marcus smiles, “I missed you.”

Lauren interrupts, “Okay okay enough with the flirting, Marcus.”

Marcus recognizes someone behind you, “Over here, Jongho!”

You all turn to see the man that Marcus was calling over. Fuck Lauren was right, he’s gorgeous. He gives your group the cutest smile you’ve ever seen and jogs over to your group.

Lauren whispers to you, “You’re drooling.”

You lightly smack Lauren’s arm and try not to keep staring at Jongho.

“Alright everyone! This is Jongho. We met when I lived in Korea and he’s here to stomp your asses.” Marcus says as he wraps his arm around Jongho’s shoulder.

Lauren rolls her eyes and puts her arm around you, “Well, Jongho, this is y/n and she’s here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

You are giggling at Lauren when you finally make eye contact with Jongho. He is smiling brightly at you. You’re unable to hide the slight blush that appears on your cheeks. A burst of confidence comes through you.

“Yeah sorry you came all this way just to have your ass handed to you” You say with a smirk.

The teams are laughing and you can’t bring yourself to look away from Jongho. The sexual tension is undeniable. He steps closer to you and you refuse to back down from eye contact, even when you have to look up to meet his eyeline.

Jongho looks down at you flirtatiously, “You’re a mouthy one aren’t you. I like that.”

He walks towards his side of the field, the rest of the boys follow after him. While you’re momentarily frozen in your spot. You can’t believe someone as beautiful as him said that to you.

Lauren drags you back to your side of the field while you continually thank her for making you come. She continues to nod her head with that ‘I told you so’ look. You can’t even argue with her because she was oh so right.

Your team is huddled and hyping each other up. You are all in agreement that you must win this scrimmage no matter what. Even though it’s only a practice game. You will be in your favorite position, center defender. Lauren let you know that Jongho is a forward, so you will definitely be seeing him. Your team all put your hands together.

Before you can break you tell them, “Not one of his balls will get past me.”

Your team cheers and breaks. As you walk to your position, you’re shaking yourself out. You can’t decide if it’s because it’s been awhile since you played or because you’re nervous as fuck. Either way, Jongho is not getting past you.

For the first 10 minutes you wonder when you will get to play. Both teams are so hyped up that it was really just a battle of the forwards and midfielders for a while. This was good because you were able to watch Jongho in action and see how he plays. Unfortunately for you he is incredible, so this will definitely be a tough match.

Jongho is the first one to slip through the midfielders and he is barreling right towards you with the ball. You take a deep breath and immediately go into action. He attempts to side step you, but you step directly in front of him and kick the ball between his legs. Jongho wasn’t prepared for you to be able to disable him so quickly that he didn’t have time to slow his body down. The force causes Jongho to fall, bringing you down with him. You immediately jump back up, only to sag in relief when you see Lauren is on the other side of the field with the ball.

“Are you okay?!” You see a frantic Jongho searching all over you to make sure he didn’t cause you harm.

You laugh, “I’m fine. Better luck next time.”

You can see that Jongho is taken aback by you. He wasn’t expecting you to be so incredibly good at defense, and also not afraid to put yourself directly in his path. He can’t help but admire you, but he will also not be misjudging you again.

Before leaving, he can’t help but brush the few hairs that are in your face out of the way. He tucks them behind your ear, and then runs off to the other side of the field. Leaving you there speechless, and furiously blushing.

As the game continues, the girls are not backing down. The score is 1-0, with Lauren being able to score because you got the ball from Jongho. You had a few more run-ins with different people on the other team, but none of them were able to get past you. With only a minute left, you can feel a flip of the switch for everyone on the field. The girls, desperate to defend and keep their advantage. The boys, desperate for one goal.

You can feel all the attention is on you. You are the reason they can’t score. You continue your breathing techniques as Jongho makes a beeline for the goal. Needing to get past you, he has three different guys running with him. As they go down the field they’re passing it to one another, in an attempt to confuse you. The three of them are now running side by side and passing it between each other.

They reach you and the fight begins. You get the ball from one of the guys and attempt to kick it, but Jongho blocks you. You are trying to get the ball back when he passes it to another teammate that you didn’t see. He was further away so you start sprinting right at him, but right before you get to him he kicks it far. You hold your breath while watching the ball soar right to Jongho. Who happened to be right by the goal box.

You immediately take off towards him, your other defender doing her best. He’s able to fake her out and make it past her, as she falls to the ground. Jongho is lining up his shot, and you know the only way to stop him is to slide to the ball. He doesn’t see you coming up behind him, and right as he’s about to kick the ball his feet are taken out under him. Since he was so close to the ball, you had to risk a slide tackle. The ball went right to your goalie as you planned and the buzzer went off.

You are laying on your side breathing heavily as you hear the rest of your teammates screaming in victory. You turn over and see Jongho laying right behind you with his hands on his head in defeat.

You sit up, “Are you okay?”

Jongho looks at you and smiles, “You really weren’t kidding. I thoroughly just got my ass handed to me.”

Jongho sits up as you two begin to laugh. Even after the intense game and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to move later, the chemistry is undeniable.

Jongho picks up one of your hands, “Would you let me take you on a date? You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

You blush and begin to laugh, “Even after I slide tackled you?”

Jongho smiles, “Yeah. I’ve met my match, and now I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop thinking about you.”

It’s your turn to fix his hair.

“Let’s get you checked out by the trainer first, and then we can see about that date.”

#ateez fanfic #ateez choi jongho #ateez jongho #jongho x reader #choi jongho x reader #choi jongho fluff #ateez #kpop #jongho

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lady-bess · 4 months

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Fallout - Chapter 3 "Out Into The Light"

Jack Daniels x F!Reader Explicit/ 18+ (Minors DNI please) Chapter Word Count: 6.3k Chapter Tags: Description of injuries, description of hospital equipment, punishment, anger, frustration, angst, reference to trauma, reference to death, recovery.

Series Masterlist | A03 Link | Tumblr Masterlist

<- Previous Chapter (Ch. 2 - "A Curious Affair")

Still in his hospital bed, Jack gets a long awaited visit from Champ, who details the punishment he now has to endure as a result of his crimes. But even in spite of losing his moniker, and facing the wrath of Agent Tequila's anger, Jack remains positive for what his new life might look like.

2:17pm. February 8 th , 2018.

The road ahead for Jack was going to be a long one - this morning had already made that abundantly clear. His body ached and cried out in pain and exhaustion every time he tried to move any more than just simply sitting. Even stretching out fatigued muscles sent shocks through his body as his nerves and tendons all got used to proper movement again.

After sleeping for another few hours, Clara had taken small steps with Jack to establish where he was at physically. Slowly she had sat him up in bed, taking time and adjusting the backrest of where he lay so that his body could acclimatise to being upright again, and not pass out from any more sudden movement. It took almost an hour, but she eventually got him sitting upright.

Normally, patients who were reliant on ventilators or in any kind of comatose state, would need weaning off their oxygen steadily. Half an hour increments daily, followed by the smallest bits of exercise in conjunction. Any more could risk further internal injury, or delays in overall progress to recovery.

Jack had a slight upper hand in that the Statesman technology which had kept him alive these last few months was far superior to any standard hospital equipment that he would have been using had he not been in the lab. His body had been preserved much more efficiently than it could have been, and as such things were not as dire as they could have been when he finally woke up properly.

Electrostimulation had been administered gently throughout his muscles while he slept, preventing a lot of atrophy he would experience for being out cold for so long. He still would need some form of rehab to develop what had been lost, and the side effects of not breathing autonomously for so long would take a long time to be completely over. But things could be a lot more dire for Jack if he had found himself anywhere other than Statesman.

Jack sat in silence after Clara excused herself for a moment to go run some blood tests on him - although he was smart enough to know that this was definitely a ruse to just be out of the way. He knew that Champ would need to come by soon and speak to him, but in a sense Jack could hardly bear waiting any longer for that to happen. It felt like he was waiting for his own day of reckoning, and the sooner he knew what fate he was going to face, the better.

His prayers would soon be answered.

The elder Statesman agent stepped out of the barrel-shaped elevator and walked down the long corridor of the labs. It had been a few hours since he’d had word from Clara about needing to be down here, but that she would need a while to make sure Jack was completely stable before he would be able to bear being questioned.

Champ had waited as long as he could. He had spent most of the morning itching with a feeling akin to excitement, nervousness, and also dread. For as happy as he was that Jack was back in the land of the living, he knew that he was about to face up to the reality that was the betrayal of his most senior agent - not only someone who he regarded as trustworthy in the field, but also someone he had come to know so intimately that he would be able to consider him a friend.

But he’d had the benefit of time on his side, and ever since Jack’s accident he’d mulled over how best to treat the former agent. Anger had blinded him in the first few weeks, wanting nothing more than to cut ties with Jack and send him packing at the first opportunity. But the guilt at what had caused Jack to snap had eaten away at the older man for far too long, and he’d had time to process that perhaps he had some accountability to take for what happened.

Inhaling sharply, Champ pushed open the door to the lab and stepped inside. He had wanted to remain a confident figure of authority today, and to maintain the kind of stature he was known for - stoic, no nonsense, and would absolutely kick you to the curb if needed. But all that faded away the second he laid eyes on Jack across the room of the lab, almost stopping him dead in his tracks.

Propped up in bed, still with a ventilator and IV tracks feeding into him, he looked rough . The colour in his face had long since faded, replaced by a look of fatigue under heavy eyes and a solemn brow. Someone, Jack looked more dead now than he had in the four months he’d been laid unconscious.

Champ bit on his bottom lip gently as he shuffled his feet along the crisp white floor of the lab, then cleared his throat to get the attention of Jack. Two dark brown eyes scanned over to the noise before setting on Champ, and he was met with a melancholic smile from the younger man. A smile which shattered Champ from the inside.

“Hey, kid,” he said, snapping himself out of his daze and slowly wandering over to Jack. He tried not to let it show, but Champ carried so much guilt towards the former agent that sat before him now. He had wondered, for so long since the accident, if any of it was preventable. Could he have done more to prevent Jack from going down this road? Was this the fault of the organisation Jack worked for so many years to uphold, and protect?

Had he failed to protect his own?

Jack smiled faintly towards Champ, his brow softening as the older man approached him. He thought, at first, that he might feel differently when this time finally came - when judgement came knocking at his door. But, for as much as Champ tried, he could never fully hide his feelings. Not from Jack, anyway. He didn’t know if it was regret, remorse, or sympathy that was painted across his face, but Jack knew that whatever he was about to say would not be the aggressive screaming match that he anticipated.

“Hey, boss,” he said weakly, his voice cracking with each syllable he pushed out of his mouth. He’d spoken in small parts to Clara and Jane since waking up, but on the whole this morning had been focused on making sure he was stable and well rested. There would be a lot of rehab to come, so he needed to save his energy.

“How are you doing?” Champ asked, pulling an office chair across the room from an empty desk, and situating it next to Jack’s bed. He sat down, grunting slightly as he did, old age and the stress of running this organisation without his most senior agent by his side having taken its toll on the older man.

“Been better, if I’m honest,” Jack said, just about forcing out a small chuckle. Champ smiled sympathetically, nodding in understanding.

“Yeah, I figured, kid. Sorry for asking such a dumb question,” he said, laughing faintly along with Jack.

Jack smiled towards the older man, someone he had respected and looked up to for so long. What he had tried to do was wrong, and it didn’t take a genius to tell him that, but somehow the thing that hurt most was that he had let down Champ - a man who represented a team that had done nothing but have Jack’s back for the last two decades, and yet he still betrayed them.

“No change there then,” he joked, winking at Champ. He smiled back at him earnestly, and for a brief moment anyone could be forgiven into thinking that there was nothing amiss between the two men. That Jack had just had an unfortunate accident, and here was his boss coming to check on his condition.

But none of that was the case, and the sobering reality of the situation couldn’t be ignored for long. A weight sat on both the men’s shoulders the longer they chose to keep sweeping this conversation under the rug, putting it off, and off, until eventually one of them had to address the elephant in the room.

Jack didn’t want it to be him which broke the veil of denial that lay across them both in this moment. He wanted to enjoy what could potentially be his last few civil moments with the man who he had betrayed - he had turned his back on Statesman for the sake of his own fucked up principles, and wouldn’t blame Champ for cutting ties and leaving him out in the dust somewhere.

Forgotten. Unloved. But probably deserved.

Champ didn’t want it to be him, either. He wanted to still believe, for just a moment longer, that this entire situation had been an unfortunate misunderstanding. That Jack hadn’t acted out how he did, that Eggsy and Harry had lied.

But the video footage from the Kingsman agent’s glasses was proof enough. For as much as he wanted to bury his head in the sand, and pretend like their British cousins were lying for some reason, he could not deny the evidence so plainly in front of him.

And now, Jack had to face the music.

“Jack, I’m sorry to do this, but I gotta ask. What was the last thing you remember?” Champ asked.

Jack sighed softly, but nodded. The silence couldn’t last forever - this question was always going to have to come one way or another. He could see in Champ’s face he didn’t like asking it as much as Jack was going to hate answering it. He inhaled sharply, preparing himself for the words he needed to own up to; the reason he was here today.

“I remember most of it, unfortunately. My last memory is getting into a fight with Eggsy and Galahad when I tried to stop them from releasing the antidote to Poppy’s laced narcotics. Leading up to that point, I was in a bit of a haze. Anger blinded me, Champ,” he said.

No words Jack could say could ever begin to make up for the damage he almost caused. Clara had gone over her estimations with how many people had been affected, and how many would have perished had Jack been successful with his own personal mission. It pained him to know that he almost cost the lives of hundreds of thousands of innocent people - something he could only see now, four months after the accident.

Champ nodded, staying silent for a moment as he processed what Jack had said. In a way he was glad that he remembered a good portion of the details, as it made it easier to go straight into questioning him as to why he acted like he did, rather than starting from square one and having to fill in the blanks.

Champ had an idea as to why Jack ended up snapping. He knew about what happened with Lela, and had seen over the years Jack’s defiance of anyone using recreational drugs. But to Champ, that wasn’t enough of a reason. He had to know what set it off this time.

“Were you always like this? Were we truly just so stupid that we didn’t see it?” Champ asked, his hands clasped together on his lap. Jack shook his head.

“I never in my wildest imagination saw myself as being the kind of agent to go rogue. I still can’t believe I did,” he said, sighing to himself. All morning his mind had replayed to him the final mission he was on. What got him there, how he tried so hard to deal with the feelings that resurfaced because of it, and his subsequent idea as to how he could work against Statesman and Kingsman for his own benefit.

“When did it start, then?” Champ queried, leaning forward slightly in his seat, asking a question Jack had been trying to answer himself all morning. He’d never wholeheartedly supported the use of narcotics, especially given what happened to Lela, but for so many years it had never been a point of contention.

But finally, he had an answer.

“It was just after Poppy’s case landed on our doorstep. Something just clicked in my brain. I’m not an idiot, Champ, I know drugs are all around me. Hell, I know Jefferson used them from time to time. I didn’t like it , but I at least knew he was being fairly safe with it,” he began, trying to explain his reasoning.

Champ furrowed his brow, sucking his lip in as he mulled over what Jack had to say. He’d seen the tiffs he and agent Tequila had over the past few years in regards to drug use, but it had never escalated beyond a shouting match. Something still didn’t fully make sense.

“So what about Poppy tipped you over the edge?” he asked. Jack gave his former boss a taut smile, followed by a breathy laugh through his nostrils.

“Champ, this is gonna come out sounding like the most fuckin’ misogynistic thing in the world. Please, bear with me,” he said. Champ couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Go on?” he said.

“I think the fact that Poppy, a well educated woman who yearned for that traditional American aesthetic…the fact it was her behind all of this, shattered the illusion I had of what a drug dealer was,” he said, before pausing to take a breath. It was only now he realised that he so rarely spoke about his wife out loud, and to other people, that he was getting choked up at just the thought of mentioning her name.

“Since my wife passed, and they busted the guy who had dealt those guys that meth, I think it got ingrained into my head that drug dealers were all horrible, brutish men. Guys most people would avoid on the street, you know?” he said.

“I think I’m picking up what you’re putting down, but continue?”.

“The fact this operation, one that was so fuckin’ massive it affected people globally …and it was Poppy running it…it completely knocked me for six. Suddenly this ideology I had built in my mind of what these people were was destroyed, and it was abundantly clear that literally anyone had the ability to distribute drugs and destroy lives in the process,” he said.

“So, for you, it was less about the drugs and more about the dealers?”. Jack nodded.

“I was blinded by anger, and confusion. I didn’t really care about the people who used those substances, but the ones who shipped ‘em out, even if they were harmful…they were the people I wanted to see gone,” he said.

That was always his rationale, he’d come to realise. The people who made money from those who would go on to make reckless decisions; they were the ones to blame. Tequila had shown him time and time again that drugs could be taken sensibly, if done properly. He still didn’t like the potential risks he posed to himself, but never once had Tequila acted out of sorts because of what he took.

But those who sold it, even if they knew a client might potentially do themselves or other people harm - they were the ones he couldn’t stand. The ones who needed wiping off the face of the earth.

The way in which he had intended for that to happen, by essentially drying up and eradicating their customer base, was not the best course of action. Jack could see that so clearly now that he almost couldn’t comprehend that it was something he ever considered logical in the first place. But blinded by his anger and grief, emotions he so often chose to bury, it all became too much to rationalise.

Champ nodded, slowly starting to see where Jack was coming from. He still didn’t agree with his actions, he’d never be able to do that, but it was gradually becoming clearer what happened in his mind. What made him snap. He opened his mouth again to inhale, about to speak again, but the two men would have to wait for that.

The doors to the labs burst open, making both Champ and Jack jump in their skin slightly as the door whipped back and slammed into the concrete wall. Both their heads turned to face the entrance, and simultaneously their hearts plummeted to the pit of their stomachs as they saw the younger man striding towards them.

“Is it true? The son of a bitch is alive ?” Tequila said, storming into the room.

Jack figured something like this was coming, though. If he had been successful, Tequila wouldn’t be here today – he deserved this anger. That still didn’t mean he was quite prepared for the rage which came tumbling towards him at a hundred miles an hour.

Flinching at the sound of Tequila’s boots hitting the ground, Jack’s knuckles went white as he screwed up the bedding of his hospital bed in his fists. For the first time in his life he was truly frightened - something he had not been for so many years. He never had anything to lose when he hurtled himself head first into a mission, never caring about the potential ramifications to his own life - but this , Tequila’s anger, made him almost sweat.

“Tequila I thought I told you to calm the fuck down before you came into this room?!” Clara asked, her jaw clenched with frustration as she followed her younger colleague, barely keeping up with the pace he strode ahead with. He rolled his eyes as he stormed over to the other side of the room where Champ and Jack were, not even paying attention to look back at Clara as he spoke.

“How the hell can you expect me to be calm about this?” he asked, venom laced in his words, a redness in his face creeping up from his neck as tempers rose.

“Tequila, I-,” Jack began. He wasn’t sure what he was going to try and say – hell knows he didn’t get the chance to even get half a sentence out before being cut off.

“I nearly fucking died because of you, Jack!” Tequila shouted, visibly enraged. His skin was red as anger coursed through him, and his jaw was clenched so tight that the veins in his neck were visible. Clara turned to him, her eyes silently pleading with him, hoping and praying that he would see sense and calm down. But Tequila could only see red - silent pleas were not going to suffice this time.

“Tequila, calm down, please ,” she said softly, her hand reaching out to take hold of him by his elbow. She tugged gently, hoping the pull of her fingers around his arm would be enough to snap him out of the upset and rage he had towards Jack. But even that was no use. He shrugged his arm away from her, not even turning to look back at her as he responded.

“No,” he snapped, his breathing sharper as fury continued to bubble just under the surface, threatening to spill out into all-out violence the longer he stood there staring at Jack. A man who, for the longest time, he trusted with his life. A man who, as he came to learn a few months ago, was more than happy to sacrifice Tequila’s life in an effort to rid the world of drug users.

He wanted to hurt him so badly. He’d been waiting months for the chance, and seeing him lay in his bed with all manner of wires and tubes plugged into him, keeping him alive - the temptation to rip them from his body was high. But the only thing that stopped him was the hope that Champ would deliver a punishment which Jack deserved - something he could not endure if he were already dead.

Clara could understand his anger, and for a long time she had carried that similar weight on her shoulders of betrayal. She understood how he felt, with Jack being someone she had for so long looked up to and admired. For him to turn out like this - it was still slightly beyond belief. But the one thing she would not tolerate from Jefferson was his rudeness towards her . Eyebrows raised, she retracted her hands and rested them on her hips, glaring disapprovingly up at the younger man.

“Tequila, I will kick you out if you don’t fuckin’ can it ,” she said, now almost yelling herself. At those words, with a sharpness to her threat, Tequila finally turned his head. Clara rarely spoke ill of anyone, nor did she idly make threats. For her to have threatened to kick him out the labs, her labs , snapped him out of the daze he had slipped into.

Turning to face Clara, with a slightly softer gaze, he shook his head apologetically.

“Sorry, doll,” he whispered, his breathing still ragged from anger. She wasn’t completely going to let him off the hook, but for the time being she’d let it slide until he was in a better headspace. She nodded, smiling taut, and Tequila returned the gesture with a small grin, then turned back to face Jack and Champ.

“My apologies, sir. Although I’m sure you can understand where my anger stems from, I shouldn’t have acted as such,” he said, removing his stetson and tipping his head towards Champ.

“It’s alright, kid. This day was never gonna be easy,” Champ said. Tequila nodded, placing his stetson back on his head.

“Might I ask what punishment Mr. Daniels will be facing?” he asked, eyes locking with the former senior agent. Jack swallowed harshly at Tequila’s gaze, eyes that were so often sparkling and filled with life now pierced into him like the first harsh frost of a winter.

Champ sighed to himself under his breath - he had imagined in his head how delivering this news would go, always planning in the back of his mind how he would speak to the man before him after all that he’d done. Like Clara and Jefferson, it was difficult to understand that Jack would ever want to go rogue, but he hoped that over time he could come to understand his reasoning. But the one eventuality he did not account for was the one in which an enraged and flustered Tequila would be present at the delivery of such information.

“I really wish I could have done this in private, Jack,” he said, smiling apologetically down at the former senior agent.

“Do what?” Jack asked. He had figured as soon as he had woken up, and regained the crucial memories which helped him piece together how he came to be here, that there would be some form of punishment for his actions. It only seemed right, and even Jack could see that. Whatever Champ was about to deliver would be well deserved, and perhaps not punishment enough.

“You’ve lost your moniker, Jack. You’re no longer Agent Whiskey,” he said. “I’m sorry, kid.”

Jack nodded, solemnly, as he listened carefully to what Champ said. He couldn’t lie and say he expected to wake up and everything be okay - there would be consequences to his actions, and he had made peace with that. He might have only been back in the land of the living for a short while, but he’d had long enough to already be racked with the guilt and remorse of the actions he’d taken to get him into this position. That didn’t mean finding out he had essentially lost his identity didn’t still sting, though.

“I expected as much. Please tell me what else will happen to me,” he asked, mentally preparing himself for what would be coming his way.

Champ shifted where he sat, looking like he was pondering what it was that he wanted to say. He gently sucked his bottom lip under his top teeth, now seemingly a bit reluctant to talk, with all eyes in the room firmly pinned on him. He sighed, softly.

“Let me talk you through a couple of things, Jack. The initial plan was to get you healed up here, then ship you off somewhere with a brand new identity. Essentially, reinvent you, then leave you somewhere alone, with no ties to Statesman,” he said, eyes unable to focus on Jack. For as firm as Champ was, and as sure of himself as he so often was, this was one thing that he had tormenting him for months. That plan no longer felt right.

“But, I came to see that the initial plan was something that was made only out of anger, and rage. It was a knee jerk response to the actions you had taken, and while I will never be able to condemn what it was that you did, I cannot in good faith punish you in such a way like that anymore,” he said.

Jack smiled faintly, a pang of guilt tearing through him again, and tears welled up in his eyes. Champ was a mentor to Jack, and had been such a constant presence in his life for two decades now. He would take a long time to be able to forgive himself for what he did, but his biggest regret was that he had the burden of feeling like he’d let Champ down to carry around with him. Gaining back his trust, and forgiveness, would be a hard battle to fight.

Tequila, still thoroughly unimpressed at Jack even daring to breathe the same air as him, scoffed at Champ’s words. Jack understood why Jefferson would be so bitter towards him, and he knew if the shoe were on the other foot he’d probably be just as resentful towards him. He didn’t take it personally, but it still was enough of a visceral reaction to make Jack turn his attention towards his former colleague.

“You’ve all gone fuckin’ soft,” Tequila said under his breath, his arms folded tight against his chest.

“Shut the fuck up,” Clara quipped, her head snapping round to Tequila the second he dared open his mouth and interrupt Champ. He rolled his eyes at her, but did as she asked, not uttering another word for a while longer.

“So, what’s the new plan then, Champ? Whatcha gonna do with me?” Jack asked. Champ smiled faintly, his thumb and forefinger on his right hand gently twirling the end of the bolo tie that he had on, something which all agents in the room had realised was something Champ did when he was anxious about something.

Champ might be someone who came across like he had a hand on everything, but when it came to his closest agents, the most senior ones who had been with Statesman for over a decade, there would always be some decisions which would leave him feeling slightly unsure he was taking the right action. These people were like a family to Champ, and one wrong move had the possibility of jeopardising his adoptive family. In a job like this, where personal relations were hard to maintain outside of work, having any kind of rift in the team was never something he wanted. Life was hard enough for them without it.

“I’m giving you another chance, Jack. You’ll undergo a course of intense psychological treatment once you’re physically healed, and all the while we’ll keep you bound to these grounds. Consider it a form of house arrest, given what you tried to do,” Champ said.

Clara furrowed her brow, now turning her attention back to Champ.

“Champ, I didn’t think that was part of the plan?” she asked. Tequila scoffed, again .

“It ain’t enough, if you ask me,” he said. Clara didn’t want to detract from any point Champ might be about to give in response to her question, so she didn’t make all that much of a deal of his quip; although that didn’t stop her from muttering “ nobody asked you” under her breath.

“I changed my mind. I want to give you another chance, Jack, but I need to be sure that you won’t go rogue again. We had guys from the FBI on our case not long after the antidote got released, wanting to know what the delay was all about. I managed to get them off your trail, but fuck , it was a close one. Put my neck on the line for you, Jack, so I gotta be a hundred percent sure whose side you’re on before I even think about giving you a proper job back here,” he said.

“What makes you think we can ever trust him again, Champ? Are you forgetting how he was quite happy to just let me fuckin’ die ?!” Tequila said, that anger rising in him anew. Champ shrugged.

“Only time will tell that much, Tex. But my decision is final,” he said, turning back to Jack. “So, what do you say, kid?”.

Jack smiled faintly, nodding at the older man, choosing to ignore Tequila’s outburst. He’d come around one day - or maybe he wouldn’t; who knew? He probably deserved it if his old friend could never look at him the same again.

“Statesman is all I’ve ever known, for so long. I want to make it work, Champ. I’ll serve my time,” he said.

Champ smiled, nodding as he stood to his feet, holding onto the lapels of his jacket as he returned to the strong stature he so liked to maintain.

“Very well. Tequila, may I see you outside for a moment?” Champ asked. Tequila scoffed, still completely bemused at the solution to Jack’s punishment, but nodded nonetheless. He’d never been one to question Champ’s authority, so he sure wasn’t about to start now - regardless of his personal feelings towards the decision.

The two men began walking away from Jack’s bed, but before they could leave he had just one final burning question that he needed answering.

“Hey Champ, if I’m not Whiskey, then who is?” Jack asked. Champ turned on his heels, ignoring the fact that Tequila kept walking towards the door, and smiled.

“Clara, can you fill Jack in on those details?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“Very good,” he grinned, then nodded towards Jack, “Rest up, kid. I’ll see you soon”.

Jack watched as Tequila and Champ left the room, the lab doors swinging behind them as they left. A silence fell across the lab once they had departed, the gentle sound of machinery beeping and whirring behind his head the only thing he noticed for a while. Jack felt his mind slowly wandering away from the physical space in which he resided, the reality of everything crashing down around him.

He’d lost his moniker.

The man he fought for years to become, the stoic and immovable Agent Whiskey - just like that, gone . A part of his life, so big that he didn’t even know who he was without it, had been taken away. He didn’t disagree with Champ, he would have acted the same in his shoes - but the feeling of loss left a vacant hole deep inside his chest, and for a moment Jack wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to piece himself back together.

Clara sat down besides Jack’s bed and sighed quietly, the weight of that conversation heavy in the air surrounding them both. She could see that he’d wandered elsewhere, his eyes almost empty as she looked over at him. This was a conversation that she didn’t want to have, especially given how heartbroken he looked - but the band aid would need to come off sometime.

She slowly slid her hand atop of Jack’s, caressing the back of his hand while she waited for him to come back to her. He didn’t react at first, the dissociation taking hold and carrying him far out of this room. Far away from the reality he was having to acknowledge.

“Jack?” she whispered, finally snapping him out of his daze and bringing him back to her in the room. He turned to look at her, his eyes filled with tears, but yet he still managed a small smile.

“Sorry,” he whispered, sniffling to himself and wiping his eyes with his free hand. Clara shook her head, lacing her fingers between his and squeezing his hand.

“Don’t be,” she said, “This is a lot to process all at once. We can always revisit this conversation another day?” she suggested, but Jack shook his head.

“No, Clara, I need to know. Who is the new Agent Whiskey?” he asked.

Clara bit her lip, still unsure if she felt ready to tell him. But one look into those deep brown pleading eyes, and she was a goner. Her and Jack might have never been intimate with one another, but that didn’t make her totally immune to the looks and glances he could pass around.

“It’s me, Jack. I’m Agent Whiskey,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry”.

Jack had never been keen on Clara becoming a senior agent, even though he knew as well as anyone else that she would have been deserving of the position. But being one of the only women he worked closely with on a daily basis for so many years, he’d so long wanted to protect Clara and keep her safe - denying her the chance to work her way up the ranks was his way of crudely preventing her from putting herself in harm's way.

He knew it was wrong. Truthfully, the fact his old moniker had been passed to her felt like an ironic sense of justice being delivered - a karma given to him for all the times he had denied Clara the right to do what she was more than capable of, what she was more than deserving of , in the name of protection.

Jack smiled at Clara, trying to reassure the evident worry that was dancing across her face. With her hand still in his, he returned the affection she’s given, squeezing her fingers between his.

“No, Clara. I’m sorry,” he said. She furrowed her brow, not expecting an apology to come from his lips - in fact, she expected anger. A sense of betrayal, even, that after all this time working together that it was her who would be the one to take his moniker the second he were to lose it. But no; instead Jack looked remorseful, and genuinely sorry.

“What for?” she asked.

“You mean aside from causing all this mess?” he chuckled, motioning to the bed in which he lay with his other hand.

“Oh, shut up,” she giggled, wanting to playfully slap his arm but knowing that was probably not the best idea given his current condition.

“I’m sorry for ever denying you the chance to become an agent. You never deserved that,” he explained.

She’d get an explanation from him one day as to why he did. That didn’t matter right now - for the first time in her life, Clara had just heard Jack apologise to her.

“It’s okay. In a way it all worked out in the end,” she said. Jack shrugged.

“Yes, but I should have never stood in your way. For what it’s worth, I’m glad my moniker has gone to you, of all people,” he said. “You deserve the title.”

Clara smiled at Jack, tears stinging in the corners of her eyes. He lifted her hand, still within his, up to his lips. Softly he placed a kiss on the back of her hand, all the while his deep brown eyes staying firmly on hers, his own tears starting to seep from the edges and trickle down his face.

For Clara, it was an acceptance that she hadn’t anticipated, but one she had so desperately needed. For as long as Jack had been asleep, carrying his former moniker had felt more like a burden than a privilege. A metaphorical ball and chain clamped around her ankle, weighing her down and scraping at the ground beneath her with every step. It had been an unbearable weight.

But looking back at Jack now, whose features seemed softer than she’d ever seen before, there was not a doubt in her mind that everything would eventually work out. Whatever became of Jack, however well he would cope with the upcoming months and years of rehab, she could leave this room today as Agent Whiskey with her head held high. Something she had yearned for since September.

“You better rest now, Jack. We’ll be getting you into physical rehab in the morning, so you’ll need your energy. I think you’ve had enough for one day now,” Clara said.

Jack nodded, setting Clara’s hand back down onto the bed and loosening his grip, allowing her to pull away. She stood up from his bedside and adjusted her lab coat, before heading off in the direction of the door.

“Thank you, Clara,” Jack said weakly, smiling over at his former co-worker as he felt his body relax into the bed. She turned her head back towards him, chuckling to herself as she saw his eyes go heavy and begin to close, fatigue taking over his body. On her way out, Clara dimmed the lights, and by the time she came to leave the labs Jack had already slipped away again into a deep slumber.

As Jack slept that night, he dreamt of his old life. A life he would no longer see again, but perhaps for the better. He had been a wayward soul for far too long, and his unpredictability had led him to ruin. For him to feel happiness again, to have a new lease of life, change was inevitable.

“All great changes are preceded by chaos”.

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