#this is what the Captain does he’s so itty bitty

[gallusrostromegalus]

You can lay blame for this second ask at @hoifne 's feet, I saw their comment on the post and had to:

How did folks react to the moon landing?

"You're ready? No Big Regrets?" Renji asks. He always asks. He'd done hundreds of Konso rituals now that he was doing his mandatory tour of duty in the living world, but he never wants them to feel 'routine', so he talks to the ghosts. Hypes them up a bit for the afterlife, tries to keep his heart in it.

Especially when it's a kid.

"Well, it's not really a big deal..." The ghost Suichi considers. He was maybe ten or eleven years old. Thick prescription glasses, face round with puppy fat, very loved. Love won't stop a freak electrical accident though. Young Suichi is handling his sudden departure really well, all things considered, so maybe love does stop despair. "-but its a bit of a shame that if there's no TV in the afterlife, I won't be able to watch the moon landing."

"Yeah, we're a bit behind the times, but I'm sure one of the mad geniuses in the 12th will invent one sooner than late-" Renji grins ruffling the boy's hair before the rest of the sentence registers. "-The What Landing?"

"The Moon Landing!" Suichi lights up with excitement. "They just launched the rocket yesterday! But in just three days, man will walk on the moon!"

"...The Moon?" Renji blinks, bewildered.

"Yeah!"

Renji points up over his shoulder into the sky, gripping the boy's shoulder, eyes wide. "THE MOON IN THE FUCKING SKY?"

---

The lights of the Fifth division offices reflect blankly off of Captain Aizen's glasses as he attempts to process the news. He is entirely still, save for his eyebrows which are writhing like overcaffienated caterpillars, unable to settle on an emotion to convey.

"The Moon?" Lieutenant Ichimaru squints at Renji even harder than usual, pointing up out the window behind him. "The Moon in the fucking sky?"

"Yeah!" Renji spread his hands. "I didn't believe it either but the humans have managed to work out some neat trick with the way the world turns to like, throw the spaceship like a slingshot..?" he tried to explain.

"So, so there's three guys in a boat-" Captain Aizen tried again, reaching up under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

"It's really more like a sealed metal tube, but they call it a Space Ship because it does sorta sail through space..." Renji tried to explain, holding up the newspaper from the living world he'd brought back to substantiate his claims and also provide helpful images to explain what was happening.

"So there's three guys in a metal tube and they... threw it into the sky so hard that instead of falling it started flying instead?" Aizen tried. "How do they even throw something that hard without Kido?"

"So the men are up in this little itty bitty bit at the top that looks like a cap on a vaccine needle-" Renji pointed at the image of the Apollo 11 rocket. "-All the rest of this is the uh. enormous amount of extremely coordinated high explosives they used to launch it. The. The whole thing is like... It's a little over three hundred fifty shaku and only 12 shaku of that is where the humans are. The rest is um. Air they smooshed so hard it became liquid and then they set that on fire and look at the picture you can see the kaboom!" Renji tried to explain, pushing the paper across Aizen's desk for his captain to read.

Aizen certainly pointed his face at the image and accompanying article, but 'read' may have been a bit beyond him at the moment.

"Oh, is that all it took?" Ichimaru hummed with interest. "Well fuck, why haven't we done that?"

"Oh yes, how very silly that the humans have beaten us at the trifling matter of FLINGING OURSELVES INTO SPACE, WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ICHIMARU??" Aizen objected.

"Well like. Idea's sound. Moon goes around the earth, so a smaller thing should too. And we can absolutely make a sealed metal container and kaboom bigger than that." Gin shrugged, as though this were plainly obvious. "Betchya the clown that runs the twelfth has the stuff laying around- we got a meeting with him later today anyway, why not ask?"

"Oh sure, that's a great Idea!" Aizen beamed. "Why hello Kurotsuchi-taicho, curious news from the human world- do you think you could spare a few parts and several tons of explosives to send some guys for a stroll on the moon?"

There was a moment of silence where Renji and Gin shared an awkward glance (or at least, Renji gave meaningful look to the narrow slits where his lieutenant-commander's eyes theoretically were).

"...he'd agree to that in a heartbeat, if he hasn't started work on his own Spaceboat already." Aizen groaned.

---

"No." Grunted Mayuri.

"No? Why not?" Aizen asked, head cocked to the side like a confused spaniel.

"Look, what the old man doesn't know about budget expenditures won't hurt him!" Gin smiled encouragingly. "Think of all the scientific data you'd get to research!"

"What the old man finds out about budget expenditures after the fact can and will hurt me." Mayuri growled. "It's not cookie money, kitting an expedition to the living world to engineer a spaceship with atomic matter instead of Reishi- No, much more efficient to let the humans do it for us and poach the date from them."

"...Why would we need to go to the Living world?" Aizen blinked, confused. "I can see the moon from the window right here?" Aizen pointed out the window of Kurotsuchi's office.

"What? That moon? You can't go to that moon!" The clownish chemical engineer cackled."

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him blankly.

"Is. Is the moon here different than the one in the living world?" Aizen asked, bewildered.

"Different? It doesn't exist!" Mayuri laughed, waving his hand at them.

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him, then leaned back in their seats, looking out the window at the moon, which still looked as physical and present as it ever did.

"...Oh don't tell me you didn't know." Mayuri frowned, pouting. "No, spirit world doesn't have a moon. The thing up in the sky is a Tulpa- there's a "moon" because everyone who comes to spirit world thinks there should be one, and there's so much ambient spiritual energy even weak souls can exert some force on the nature of reality and when millions of them are all certain there should be a moon, a moon manifests. Or at least, a thing that looks like a moon. Doesn't act like one, changes size and skips around it's phases all the time and if it really were a round object in space, that's NOT what a crescent moon would look like."

Aizen and Ichimaru looked back out the window at the "Moon", whose crescent arced a full three quarters of the alleged satellite's circumference.

"Seriously? this is some really basic stuff." Mayuri glared at them in disappointment. "You never noticed that the moon is always visible out any random window at night, no matter what time it is? It doesn't even go east-to-west more than half the time!"

"But. But we have a lunar calendar..?" Aizen muttered, an edge of genuine distress in his voice.

"Oh yeah, the moon *used* to be regular as clockwork- everyone literally set their watches to it." Mayuri shrugged. "Then sometime about eh, two and a half, three thousand years ago? Right around the same time the first captain-class spirits started appearing, the moon started doing this 'Full Moon Thrice A Month If it Feels Like It' and 'Visible At Improbable Angles' nonsense."

Aizen's eyes were wide and Gin's very nearly open with alarm.

"That's uh- that's terrifying?" Aizen sputtered, now outright frightened.

"Yeah, anybody know what coulda caused that?" Gin muttered.

"The going theory is that the precipitation of a new class of spiritually hyperpotent souls like us has caused disproportionate tugs on the desired appearence of the the "Moon", but that's only a theory- my predecessor's predecessor once attempted to send a camera to the 'Moon' for a closer look, but it never actually *got* any closer." Mayuri explained, casually inspecting his fingernails- he seemed to be growing out the middle one for some godforsaken reason. "-Your theoretical starboat would likely far worse."

"...Okay but that's worse. You understand how that's worse, right?" Aizen demanded and Mayuri waved him off.

"No, no hit makes sense-" Gin nodded, and Aizen glared at his lieutenant. "Think about it! There's what, three and a half billion human on earth? Millions die every day, but only a couple hundred ever turn up every day at the intake queue in the 7th, and nearly everyone is from just the one part of Japan. We're one afterlife of many- ugh, could you imagine if the missionaries were sent here?- anyway, our world is nowhere NEAR as big at the Living World, so the moon-moon is just a geographical feature in the living world, and there's only a couple million people living here. We got disproportionate swing, so we pull on the collective conciousness more. It's fine!"

"That's AWFUL!" Aizen shouted, dismayed.

"I mean I think we all understand God is an Asshole, but what are you gonna do about it?" Mayuri shrugged before tapping on the crate beside his desk. "-Anyway, do you want these Polio Vaccines for the rukongai outreach program our not?"

"I- yes. Please." Aizen muttered.

"Good man, sign here." Mayuri tapped the sheet on his desk. As Aizen tried to read over the provisions release paperwork, the small "Electronic Mailer" on Mayuri's desk pinged. "Oh, the word got out- Kyoraku-taicho wants to hold another moon-viewing party for the occasion. Do me a favor and attend so you can explain to him why we can't go to our 'moon' for me? I don't want to go, and I really don't want to explain it to him through a hangover either."

"If you don't wanna go Boss I'll stand in for you. Promises to be a real riot." Gin grinned.

"Yes, you have your young friend, don't you? Miss Matsumoto?" Aizen smiled fondly at his second-in-command.

"Oh, she probably already got her invite- she an' Miss Nan- er, lieutenant Ise are real pals from the academy." Gin laughed. "Nah, I was gonna drag old blind bones along."

"...Captain Tousen?" Aizen asked, befuddled. "Whatever for?"

"Stars ain't exactly braille, y'know?" Gin explained, wiggling his fingers. "He knows even less than we do an' I wanna watch Rangiku and Kyoraku try'n 'splain the whole thing to him." Gin grinned.

"Sounds lovely! Take your shit and get out of my office." Mayuri threatened.

---

Renji exhaled, still bewildered, laying on his back on the grassy hill just outside the 2nd division training grounds, staring up at the moon as it rose opposite the sunset behind him. Or, maybe not? There had been some lecture about how the moon in spirit world wasn't a moon back at the academy that he didn't really remember-

"You sound like you're in the throes of a moral conundrum Red." Shuuhei teased, looking up from the strange contraption he was setting up.

"Huh?" Renji blinked. "Oh, no I'm just- Those guys in the Spaceship gotta be somethin' else, going to die thousands of miles from home."

"What? The Astronauts? They'll be fine! -Probably." Shuuhei laughed. "They're definitely insane, getting in that contraption at all, but they still gotta come home with all the rocks and whatever they get from the moon for the lab techs to look at."

"...How the hell are they getting back?" Renji frowned, rolling up onto his elbow to frown at his senpai. "I thought they blew up all the rocket getting off the planet?"

"They got a bitty rocket in the lunar landing craft that will get them between their ship and the lunar surface, and then they will angle the ship a bit and the moon will fling them back to earth the way earth flung them at the moon." Shuuei explained, not looking up from the weird bass-drum looking object he was messing with.

Renji opened his mouth, realized his friend probably understood it way better than he did, closed his mouth, shrugged, and changed topics. "So what is that thing you had me haul up here?"

"It's uhhh... Experimental. Haven't got a name for it yet." Shuuhei muttered, placing a level on top of it and frowning at the bubble before adjusting the legs bolted awkwardly to the side of the drum. "-But with all this excitement about the Lunar Landing, I realized Tousen-Taicho is... I mean he gets left out of a lotta stuff, y'know? But it's not like he can see the stars, or the spirit-moon, and I don't think he really understands orbital mechanics-"

"I sure fuckin' don't." Renji muttered.

"Yeah, because you're the kind of moron who put a ham sandwich in a VCR-" Shuuhei rolled his eyes.

"That was ONE TIME, and Matsumoto Senpai told me it was a Panini Press!" Renji sulked.

"-and then pressed "Fast Forward", but Tousen is actually smart as hell- I'm the one who can't explain it without gestures he can't see." Shuuhei continued. "...but I can use a camera obscura and reiryoku-sensitive film to sort of take an old exposure image of the night sky. I'm hoping that if I treat the exposed film right, that the light and dark parts will turn into different textures for him to read, like a braille sky."

"Oh." Renji muttered. "That's really nice of you actually."

"I mean, we'll see if it works." Shuuhei shugged, examining the level again. "Hand me the allen wrenches- What about your boss?"

"Captain Aizen? Uh- honestly? He seems a little freaked out by all this and I saw him fuckin' slam the newspaper into his wastebasket when he got back from the twelth." Renji winced. "He's weird like that. Sweet as cake most of the time but then there's these weird flashes of anger... and I'm not sure how much longer he's gonna be my boss."

"As in you got ambitions, or you think he's gonna get fired?" Shuuhei asked, staring at the level again.

"As in 'Tetsuzaemon Iba got in another brawl with his mother about him only being fourth seat when she made captain, and Liuetenant Madarame asked me if I'd updated my resume recently." Renji winced.

"Woof. Talk about a lateral promotion." Shuuhei winced. "Still, the pay raise would be nice. You could afford to take your girl Rukia somewhere up to her brother's standards!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Renji snapped, rolling over and jumping to his feet. "-It's -I'm sorry. It's kinda complicated." Renji sighed.

Shuuhei was silent for a minute as Renji sat back down on the grass, face in his hands. After a minute of fine-tuning the drum to keep it level, he spoke up. "You're more than good enough."

"Huh?" Renji jolted. "Oh, yeah- I'd be doing all the eleventh's paperwork but there's no way it's worse than the fucking rice subsidies accounting board-"

"That's not what I meant." Shuuhei glared.

"...I know." Renji groaned. "It's just. It's complicated, okay?"

"If you say so." Shuuhei shrugged. "Alright, hand me the flat box- thanks. It'll be ready for exposure in a minute, and I want to get it done before those clouds roll in." He gestured at the distant thunderheads threatening to bloom into a summer storm on the edge of the city.

The process was quick- the shielded plate went into the gap under the drum, and the light of the night sky was reflected onto it from a pinhole in the top. Once the metal plates were pulled back, it needed a few minutes to pick up enough light, before Shuuhei pushed the metal shutters back in and locked the plate in darkness until it could be developed.

"It's for taking pictures of the stars, right?" Renji asked as Shuuhei started disassembling the camera. "You could call that plate an Astrograph."

"Hah! Futuristic. I like it!" Shuuhei grinned. "C'mon and help me with this thing before the punishment squad turns up to kick my ass for having a camera within a mile of the second."

[peachetteprice]

Driving Habits | TF141

Disclaimer: Some of these are UK specific, including the style of car, manoeuvres, terminology, and gearbox. That's what happens when the boys live and work mostly in England! Also, I am almost taking my practical test in September, and I need to rant about certain habits. Sorry in advance to Soap and Ghost. Love you both, boys.

Credit to @soaps-mohawk for giving me the inspiration to explore this headcanon! It began with an exploration into what cars TF141 might drive! You can see the original post that inspired this here.

+ Including interactions when driving with an S/O!

Captain John Price:

Notorious one-handed driver. The other hand is either on the gearstick - just resting, contemplating - or mediating between the gearstick and your thigh. He loves a good reverse bay park. (He's an absolute beast at it, too. No need for minor adjustments. He just... knows the space. And he will make fun of you when you can't park as perfectly as him). Helps to get the shopping in better, because at least you can get to the boot! Has been known to swerve a little bit for birds in the road, but that's because he's an avid watcher, and the poor things get enough grief as it is - he wants to still be able to watch Robins and Thrushes in the trees on the weekend!

He does, however, neglect rabbits, foxes, badgers, squirrels, and rats. And the... occasional deer in Scotland? Not out of malice - not at all - but they're not worth swerving over and potentially causing a collision for. He might, only if you're with him - because you'll squeal if he doesn't and positively become harrowed by its body popping beneath the rear tyre - but it's much safer for a driver to simply ram it into the gravel than to mess around with the safety of himself, other drivers, and - of course - you.

Takes extra care around vehicles with stickers that denote that the occupants of said vehicle - bar the driver or secondary passengers - are animals or children. He will be extra sure to check his mirrors, touch on the brakes if need be, and will actively scan for dangerous drivers that he can shield the car from. His duty is to protect, after all, in whatever capacity.

That being said, in his youth, he was known to drive... a little faster than required. Only on country lanes does he still retain some of his more... reckless habits. He may go a touch too fast around corners, and ignore the chevrons that indicate the severity of a turn (one arrow, two, three), and if the road opens up to a sprawling range, whereby speed control for tight corners and blind junctions is not an issue, he will... perhaps... occasionally - only rarely if you're in the car with him - let her rip.

But those roads are his home, that's all!

Begrudgingly drives your shuddering little Fiat 500 or itty bitty Hyundai i20 (hey, what do you mean, tiny, it's perfect for the city, John! Pay no mind if your boys giggle and point when you turn up at the base in it...), though much prefers the Triumph Spitfire, 1979, mint-condition, that he bought in 2008 for three grand and fixed up over a ten-year period (when he wasn't deployed, that was) which is now worth £18,000. That is his profit! But he won't let another soul touch it, drive it, or so much as look at it - unless it's you, on a good day - until the day he dies. It's in stunning condition, but God help you if you reverse into the driveway without him watching like a hawk, wiggling his hand as if it were the paddle of an aeroplane conductor, telling you to move closer to the wall and risk scratching your car just to protect his darling baby. It... oh no... it might be the only thing he loves more than you...

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley:

Always, always, always over-revs the engine to get out of a junction. He can't help it! He's used to manoeuvring through rough terrain with a car the size of a military tank - he's bound to forget to treat a normal car with a normal amount of strength. He comes flying into and out of roundabouts for that exact reason! He has to get on and off them quickly enough - don't you know, they're deathtraps, they are!

He's also prone to checking his side mirrors and rear view mirror an inordinate amount of times for a twenty-minute pop to the shop. He is convinced that the Kia Sportage behind him is right up his tail - he's sure it's stalking you in the passenger seat, especially with your bumper stickers on the rear, the nasty perverts - no matter how many times you explain to him that the mirrors are convex! They will make everything seem closer than they truly are! Now, however, he does not and will not ever brake-check a car, but he will sure as hell give them the dirtiest stare if they decide to overtake him... or until they back off a few more feet behind you.

You'll never forget the day that he wrenched the handbrake up way too high, and you had to get your father to re-tighten it. You're sure there aren't any more notches he can lift it to. You're rarely ever on a hill that warrants it. He'll crank it up six times just to stop at the traffic light before the Tesco. It's bloody Tesco! It's not Mount Kilimanjaro!

The poor man gets impatient at lights. He does. And crossings, too. Train, tram, pedestrian, any and all of them. Despises them all. He'd rather a set of traffic lights for people to cross at, than have those silly zebra, pelican or toucan markings along the road that he has to pray Grandma Doris won't divert her walking cane in its bilateral direction. Oh, and he bounces his leg like there's no tomorrow. Again, he can't help it! He isn't used to waiting in cars. He's used to tumbling down roads in Middle Eastern deserts as the crow flies. None of those silly turns and re-routes into estates because he took the wrong turn at a junction. He wouldn't have messed up had he had time to think! Had there been no traffic! And, oh, Christ, the traffic. Simon does not like traffic. He does illegal U-turns as soon as he sniffs there being a road closure - that's how much he dislikes waiting!

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish:

Never gets the bite point consistently. Never gets the damn bite point. Always too low or too high. He doesn't over-rev it like Ghost does, but the amount of times he stalls the bloody car, thinking he's in another one of those tank-sized vehicles that has a brand-spanking new bite point - or dare he say, an automatic gearbox that doesn't even require a clutch - is incalculable. You'd think the man has only just learnt to drive!

Notoriously speeds through built-up areas. Often commits to doing 45mph in a 30mph zone. Only when there isn't anyone around, like at nighttime! He consistently zooms past speed cameras in his BMW. His poor 3L engine is just too powerful for those dinky little roads. And, promise, he doesn't do it on purpose! He just routinely forgets to glance at his speedometer (and his mirrors, but that's another issue), and he drives for himself and himself only. In fact, he often hums to himself and forgets you're even there, beside him, clutching onto the internal handle on the roof in case he veers too suddenly to either side. His object permanence doesn't prevail unless he has one hand on your inner thigh, and if he doesn't, well, you can kiss safe driving habits goodbye.

Alright, that isn't to say he's an... unsafe driver. He's only slightly inconsiderate. He brakes too harshly, too late, too suddenly, he coasts on the clutch around corners, he never feeds the steering wheel, and he sometimes forgets to check his mirrors before turning into a junction (but he's never T-boned a cyclist... yet... you can give him a tick for that one). But he hums and whistles a nice tune to himself - he prefers it to the radio, and that's not to say he prefers quiet so he can hear the sound of the engine, no, no... never... not at all - and he always makes an overt point to note every field of cows, sheep (especially horses!) as well as every cat he sees lurking along the pavements. Never dogs. Doesn't like the bastards. Got bit once. That was enough to turn him right off.

(Oh, and he always sits on the brake. And bite + gas. The handbrake is too cumbersome, and his feet are strong enough, Goddamnit!)

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Beautiful driver. Test-accurate. He could re-take it today and pass with flying colours. What a brilliant driver. The only bad habit he's picked up is driving with one hand (he tends to bite his fingernails on the other when he drives - helps with the stress of commuting in London), and never feeding the steering wheel through his hands. He does the wipe-on, wipe-off manouvre, mostly because he looks hot when doing it, though he tries not to. Mama Garrick always swats his hand whenever he does it because that's how drivers get into accidents, baby!

Car-shares with his mother, whether it's in her duck-egg blue Kia Picanto or his lime green Ford Fiesta - it has failed its MOT three bloody times, and he's revived that girl from death's vice grip more times than he can count, it has the mileage of a postal worker in the 1700s, nearing 200k - but this gentleman always remembers to bring the seat forward and upright after he's finished using it, so that her feet can touch the pedals, and to, naturally, reduce her back pain. He does the same with the headrest, too, because if there's anything he cares about more than his job, it's the safety of his family and friends!

Tends to drive on the cautious side. The only minor fault he'd get in a test would be hesitance because he simply doesn't trust any other driver but himself. His mother drilled that into him. She said that there's nothing worse than watching a car flash its headlights and signal you to go, with caution, as always, because the flash is not universal for 'go', only to pull in front of you and trigger you to emergency brake. Or, God-forbid, a pedestrian puts their hand up at you before they've even crossed the bloody road, and he has to slam on the brakes like he's Speedy Gonzalez at a traffic light. Lordy Lord.

Never mind the fact that he waits too long at pedestrian crossings because there could be somebody shrouded by that tree on the corner there. Do you see it? Over there! No, behind the sign, love! There could be someone - oh, whatever. He has to wait to make sure it's clear - otherwise, Grandma Doris is getting bumped in the legs and thrown fifty feet along the road! And he cares about the elderly!

Always nervously bites the insides of his cheek at roundabouts. Which is the most bewildering part of all, because he's so good at them! He always signals onto the roundabout. Never cuts lanes. Always follows directions perfectly, and if he doesn't, well, I guess you're taking a different route until you can turn around in a safe place. He always signals off the roundabout, too - even at mini-roundabouts - but he'll scrunch his face up every time, huff, and mutter:

"Yeah... botched that one."

...Regardless of how many times you tell him that he's a gorgeous driver! It's sexy, too, how he abides by the Highway code and gives way to more cars than he really should - no, except he really should stop doing that, actually, they're starting to take advantage of his kindness and he doesn't realise it - and how he's so... so... so fucking smooth with gear transitions. Going from stationary to a comfortable 20mph? He'll pop that sucker so fluidly into third (or second, if it's his mum's car) with such prowess that you barely notice the engine take the gas he's giving it. There's no jolt between first and second. He plays those gears like he's bowing a violin. How delicate his fingers are. How gentle his touch. It's mesmerising to watch.

Gaz even brakes in ample time, and you thought he couldn't be more perfect! That's what really gets you going - he gives the car behind him just the right amount of time to slow down that it's almost a waltz, and he's the conductor of traffic. Though... maybe don't let him get trapped at a stalemate on a mini-roundabout where all cars are turning left and are subsequently blocked by the need to give way to the right... his poor brain will short-circuit! If he does, give him a pat on the thigh and let him wait for someone else to make the first move - he hates decision-making when he's off-duty.

And, you're about ready to give him your hand in marriage when you notice that every time he comes to a stop - on a hill, at a traffic light, in crawl traffic, waiting to turn into a junction, he puts the handbrake on, then takes his foot off the foot brake, then knocks the gearstick into neutral, then takes his foot off the clutch, and waits patiently like the darling man he is. Unlike someone else, he never sits on the brake...

Bonus Round - Road Rage!

Captain John Price:

Road Rage? You mean, showing a healthy amount of anger and vigour towards a bloody idiot driver? You mean... baring his teeth and swatting a hand at them, occasionally honking the horn past eleven-thirty, even if people are sleeping, or pulling out one of his anger-insurance cigars? That's what road rage is? Well... Christ, he must be terrible for it. Don't tell his boys that... they think he's the most level-headed man on base.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley:

He's slightly oblivious to the technique of cars around him. He drives like he's the only driver in the world, because usually he is - except for those fuckers behind you who won't back off - but if something does happen, and if it isn't too much of an issue, he'll grunt, clench his teeth, grip the steering wheel and let out a muttered 'bastard'. If, however, something really irritates him - especially if another car puts you in danger - he'll honk the horn and flail his hand at the windscreen in the hopes that the driver sees his frustration (even if you're the one driving, he'll reach over and honk the pad for you, even though you've told him not to!)

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish:

Well... he certainly knows a lot of Gaelic, doesn't he, your boy? You've hardly a monkey's bottom of what he's saying, but the vitriol in which he says it - he's not known for bottling his anger very well - makes it clear to you that he needs a hug and de-tox before bedtime. If the accused does anything on the defensive or antagonistic, he has been known to pull up beside them on a two-lanes-go-straight-on road marking, even if it isn't the right way to your destination, just to glare at them and give them the... stern finger. Maybe... maybe a word or two about precious cargo.

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Gaz is a simple guy when he's off-duty. He will sigh, tut, shake his head, and mumble 'nutter', or a very hushed 'oh, you absolute...' (bonus: he never finishes his sentence!) It's what his mum does! If another car puts you in danger, he may groan and roll his eyes - but he always asks if you're okay as soon as, and apologises for the sudden violence of his attitude! What a sweet man.

| Masterlist |

[th3fam1lyd1ssap01ntm3nt]

RAAAAAHHHHHHH hello :3!!!

I am

Wondering if you would be ever so kind,,,

To write the monster au(or the hybrid au) of TF141 and I was like oh,,, Gaz no on list,,, who else,,, Johnny. Request thee Johnny, you could add the others for funsies as well, I don't mind the werewolf Johnny I like hims a lot as ,, but like, imagine, Male!user(I don't know what we call him erm male whatever the fuck his name is idk the WHORE sorry he's not maybe? Maybe he is actually idk it's male reader around those sluts 😠😠/HJ....) who usually kept his hybrid features hidden for god knows what reason because it's him??? He's just?? He's a little silly, but like "omg a human on the team grrr!!!" Is reaction from almost everyone until they warm up to him later and then he's just revealed as a moth hybrid :3 moth man, he squeaks when angry because moths can squeak and that's very interesting to me :3 and he just itty bitty plush like and plush size and shorter than them, but yeah they angry thinking he human, get close to the "human", they wake up early one morning, see the man they thought was human, but is a moth hybrid, standing in the kitchen, deadass staring into the kitchens light for god knows how long he was standing there, antennas just out as he's focused on the light, not even noticing them standing beside him, he's just staring at the light until someone turns that shit off and then he's just back like " ! " "When did you wake up???" Like .

PLLEAAAASEEEEEE PLEAAASEEEEEEEEE PPPLLLLEEAAAASEEEEEEEE I BEG FOR HIM TO HAVE SOME CHUB TO HIM I BEG FOR MOTH MALE READER WHO USES HE HIM PRONOUNS FOR THE HYBRID/MONSTER AU TF141 LEMSJWJSJS I want chubby male ones to be loved☹️

Have a wonderful day yahhhh‼️‼️‼️

RRAAAAHHH MY FIRST ASK!!!! (Omfg tysm u don’t know how happy this makes me :3 )

Lemme get this straight.. a moth hybrid! male reader x Werewolf! Johnny (Soap) Mactavish?? Ill see what i can do!!

(Inspired by the Monster AU by whisperrwarm on X, when I say INSPIRED I mean, not everything is the same!)

Characters:

John (Soap) Mactavish: A Werewolf

Simon (Ghost) Riley: A Wendigo

Captain John Price: A Dragon

Male Y/N: A Moth

Just a cute wee pudgy lad :3

Tw: Swearing, suggestive content, Male x Male

Since Anonymous wanted M! Y/N to be pudgy, I imagine that he would have the shape of something like this:

Moth Dust

(A Johnny (Soap) Mactavish x Male! Reader fic)

You, LN, FN, (last name, first name), who would have thought out of all possibilities of hybrids, you would be a moth. Not that its a bad thing, it was just rather annoying though.. you were picked on constantly because of it, your hight, your looks, and what made you insecure the most, your weight.

Not that you were huge, but you were fun sized, the perfect love handles, and the loveliest thing of all, your thick thighs. Aye, its like they say, ‘Thick Thighs Save Lives!’ You tend to hide your moth features though, fearing that a hybrid with predatoristic features might harm you.

I mean.. c’mon, you were a moth and there were damned stronger mutants out there.. its like the food chain with normal animals, and as embarrassing as it was, many things ate bugs. And what are you a hybrid of? A bug. Well.. a domesticated silk moth to be more specific, but still!

Being a moth you were fluffy and small, and well.. adorable. But you never though of yourself as that short.. until you joined the military that is-

“Bloody fucking christ! How fucking big does a man need to be here?!?” You thought to yourself once you actually saw how large the men in Task Force 141 where. There was one in particular who stood intimidated you from his height, Simon Riley, better known here as Ghost, and he stood a strong 6’2”!!

He could easily fucking squish you like the bug you are if he wanted! You were intimidated by the other men slightly, I mean, c’mon! Your captain is a fuckin Dragon for Christ sake!

But wow… boy were they lookers though- there was one in particular who stood out to you the most, he looked like a dog hybrid, but that didn’t seem right for some reason? What stood out to you the most was those elegant.. enticing.. wonderful blue eyes… wait. What the hell? Were you staring? Oh shit, didn’t anyone see you staring at him?

Your mind was racing at the thought of being caught staring. “Did anyone see that? Shit- did he see that?!” You thought to yourself, more like mentally screamed at yourself, but still..

(Not finished, currently busy, will finish soon!)

[jtl-fics]

has it really already been a year since the first ff shitpost???!!! I’m excited to see it out (even if I know a lil bit of what’s to come 😅)

so give the people another itty bitty sneak peak

5-8-24 WIP Wednesday (Open) | Fluent Freshman (FD)

Their merrymaking draws the attention of Nicky. Nicky’s departure from their room draws his roommates along with him. Smith is now doing quite well in the mini games of Mario Party since everyone else who is playing is at least tipsy. Matt and Aaron end up standing on either side of him with their own drinks coaching him on how to best obliterate his fellow foreign language majors during the mini games.

Smith has no idea when Kevin showed up, but does hear Nicky teasing him that he’d been sexiled from the room by Andrew and Captain Neil so Smith feels quite a bit safer. He accepts a drink from someone knowing that Andrew and Captain Neil will be busy for likely the entire night.

More people come and Smith comes in 2nd on Stars due to the bonus stars at the end of the game. Matt is arguing passionately that he would have won if the mini-game star was in play but Smith is just happy to not be in last.

[sable-skies]

I wanna see some drama.

Rank the Chain from 'good boy' to 'MY SCRIMBLO. MY BLORBO. BRAIN PARASITE. LITTLE STINK MAN BABY BOY'

oh boy this is gonna be interesting.

okay okay so lets make a few things clear: I haven't played every zelda game, so my opinions on the boys are mostly based on vibes or my personal headcanons for them! For reference, I've played a lot of modern loz games, but not a lot of the old ones. so take my opinions with the biggest grain of salt :]

We'll go in ascending order of good boy to scrimblo, because i love the dramatics.

9. Good Lad - Time.

Okay, I'm so sorry to all the OoT and MM enjoyers out there, but I do not care for these games. I have no attachment to them, and growing up on the internet in the late 2000s and early 2010s, where everyone and their mom acted like OoT was the tits with fries, has forever kinda ruined my relationship with those games. I acknowledge what they did for the series, and that they're important for 3D Zelda's as a whole, but holy shit. People on the internet were OBNOXIOUS

That being said, I still love Time! I'm more attached to him via the Hero's Shade rather than his own games, but I still like him regardless. I don't have many thoughts on him though past enjoying that he acts like a perpetually old man. Yknow that one post thats like "hey grandpa." "THE WARRR" "okay." Thats him.

Overall, 10/10 lad, I enjoy him a lot and I feel like he'd be nice to me so we're even steven.

8. Gooder Lad - Warriors.

It's been so long since I've played Hyrule Warriors, and I never played its DLC because I was a poor teenager at the time, but I appreciate the captain a lot! He's only higher than Time because I've actually played his games, so a technicality really.

Otherwise I love this slightly arrogant but otherwise whole and good hearted fella, and I love it when people give him dragon imagery. I also like to think he might be the most normal guy out of the entire group, like he's got a 401K and a retirement organized back in his time, so when he talks to everyone else and learns that they're literally just wild children he's like "huh. hm."

7. Gooby Lad - Wind.

THE GROUP BABEY!! THE ITTY BITTY FELLA!! Love him, love him so much. It's been years since I played Wind Waker and I never played Phantom Hourglass, but I loved this guys whole 100+ personality and everything. And dude, his whole journey being one fueled by personal stakes to get his sister back? Love it, absolutely love it.

I like to think he's the group baby at 13, with Four being 14, and it pisses him off endlessly. He wants to grow up so he can be of use to everyone around him, but little does he know that everyone wants to protect him because they want him to enjoy his youth, not like the rest of them who lost it in some form or another. Overall, excellent lad.

6. Goodest Lad - Four.

Again, did not play this dude's games, but I read the Four Swords manga so I'm a bit more familiar with his whole vibe. Hell a couple of years ago I did a headcanon post on how he divides into four people (based on personality theories), and I like his depth because of it.

I also love how he's probably given too much responsibility because of his maturity within the group, he's still a kid but because he acts a lot older sometimes the others just kinda forget. I also like to think that when he's having an internal/emotional issue he'll write up a note, split himself, and let the four figure it out. they'll find the note and it says some shit like "20 minutes. Figure it out. (please)"

Also he's excellent material for the burnt out gifted child. Love that for him.

5. The slightest of scrimblo - Hyrule

THIS DUDEEEE a few years ago I kinda dipped back into LU for a bit and found this artist that made some fucking like. renaissance shit for him and that's what unlocked my love for this dude. Unfortunately, I cannot remember the artist so i must live with the memory.

I really like how alone he was in his journey, how he only had the land and nature itself to guide him and offer comfort. Love how when he enters a bigger group he has to learn how to work in that setting, alongside maybe come out of his wilderness tended shell. Also I like to think that his possible fae traits make him a bit more uncanny than people realize.

4. A bit more blorbo - Sky

Eepy guy (just like me FRRR), overall fatigued but still kind hearted fella, I love it. I loved his game (fuck you Arin Hansen /j), and I love the personal stakes he has in that game as well. It's actually the only LoZ game that makes me a ZeLink truther, because otherwise I'm neutral on it.

What I also enjoy about him a lot is the untapped terrifying energy he could have. He's a god-killer, Hylia's Chosen Hero, he may not show it a lot, but I think he has the potential to really fuck some shit up but chooses kindness. I would love to write something someday where he's forced to choose otherwise.

But yeah squishy soft guy oh my goodness wubwuwbuwbuwbwubwb :33333

3. Blorbo parasitism - Wild.

The first parasite. The first brainworm on this list. I need to get an anti-parasite antibiotic.

OBVIOUSLY all the angst and buildup from his games is so much fun. I love when he has an internal crisis of going back to who he was 100 years ago, a quiet and burdened knight, or allowing himself to remain free-spirited and a bit deranged that his new life has given him. It's such a fun dynamic. And of course, I love his bond with Twilight. I think he needs someone to set him on the right path every once in awhile.

I also like to think he has a subtle undead quality to him. Similar to his mentor, something is inherently wrong with him on a spiritual or magical level, but that's for later. (maybe)

2. The ultimate stink - Twilight.

THE GUY!!! MY FAVORITE GUY!! No matter what he will always be the number 1 Link incarnation in my heart. I love him so much and when things get rough I just gotta be like "Twilight wouldn't want this for me" and keep on fuck it we ballin.

The untapped ANGST and TRAUMA from his journey drives me insane, I literally could write a whole essay about the shit he endured and how that must have affected him. I wanna write something one day about it but alas, perpetually tired, and I'm nervous about my writing so wheh.

Also I like to think he's horror adjacent. Don't ask me why, I couldn't tell you, but he has the same vibe as the dog from The Thing (1982) to me and I love that for him.

Actual fucking war criminal parasite in my head GET OUT GET OUT GET OUTTTT - Legend.

UGH this fucker. Who let this guy in???? Kill him, smasha with rock.

But on a serious note, while I finished his games (only really played ALBW), the depth he has from those adventures intrigues me endlessly. I love his bitter exterior yet still warm and kind heart, I love characters who act mean but are genuinely good deep down, they just need time to show it.

Also something possesses me when I draw him that makes him look so much more cunty than he actually is and I don't know what it is. I'm sorry for this, I cannot fight what the universe is clearly telling me to do.

He only outrights Twilight rn, because otherwise he would switch places with him. For now he's in my head and I'm shining sunlight on him through a magnifying glass like he's an ant on the pavement. Something Will Happen To Him if I have anything to say about it.

[braveclementine]

January 7, 2015; 10:48 A.M.

Warnings: None, Readers under 18 can read this book.

Copyright: My OCs are Coach Yonce, Emma, Ila, Tempus, and Itty Bitty. I own these characters. I do not condone any copying of this.

I burst into Downey's changing room at the Marvel studios. To my credit, Downey did jump, half naked with his shirt off.

"Jeez Stan." He muttered, turning back around to fix his shirt. "If you wanted to see me naked, you could've just asked."

"Have you seen the newspaper?" I panted, catching my breath before tossing the paper on top of his vanity.

Downey read the article as he fixed the suit he was supposed to be wearing. Bucky Barnes wasn't even in this movie. I think they were holding off until they were one hundred percent certain that I wasn't coming back.

They had made a lot of promises to me like they would never have me shoot somewhere where I wasn't going home after every shoot, or at least a hotel with the other actors. There were other promises, but the going home one was the one that best situated with me.

I still wasn't sure though. I had been waiting until April to make a decision. That's when Y/N was supposed to get out of the program and be- not fine- but better. That's when I would see what she needed of me and then I'd make a decision on the job.

"Well shit." Downey cursed. "They're not even safe in the psychiatric ward. Are they killing them?"

"Great." I breathed out a sigh of relief. "God even Y/N's parents really think this Ila girl committed suicide. Even with Y/N's words in there!"

"Unfortunately," Downey muttered, tucking the newspaper under his arm and fixing his tie, "The reason the doctors gave for Y/N's 'freak out' sounds legit to anyone who doesn't have a psychology degree. But I'm really starting not to trust these Government assholes and that psychiatric ward is Government owned."

"What are we going to do?" I asked. "I already asked if I could see Y/N and they said they were putting her in solitary like a prisoner Robert!"

"Let me call up the Don." Downey said. "I don't know if his Lawyers can do anything on this, but I can sure well damn try."

Tom Hiddleston looked pretty upset when we got onto set.

"You alright?" I asked.

"I'm sure you heard about Ila?" Tom asked. "I just, you know she was a great girl. I feel terrible she thought the only way out was suicide, but maybe the horrors she saw were just to much."

Robert stepped on my foot- a hint I hadn't needed thank you very much- and I just said, "Yes, it really is sad."

Robert was already speaking rapid fire into his phone. Strange he'd already gotten in contact with Mr. Trump. Or perhaps he was speaking to the secretary. Maybe Mr. Trump hadn't been fooled either and had been waiting for Downey to call.

"Hey Sebastian, good to see you here." Chris, probably the one I was- or had been- closest to on the set came over. He was wearing his Captain America outfit, though he'd left his shield by a chair with a water bottle. "How are you feeling? And you don't need to lie, alright, I read the article."

"Downey and Trump are trying to help me get a visit with Y/N." I admitted. "I'm panicked that Ila didn't kill herself, that they killed her. I'm afraid they got paid off. I'm afraid that they'll kill her next."

Chris put a hand on my shoulder. "Well it does seem when those two work together they get shit done. They'll get your visit with her Y/N. What do her parents say?"

"They just think the facility is giving her PTSD and that Ila was killed by Tempus or one of those goons, not the psychiatrists. I think her mother's exact words were 'Why would a facility trying to help them, kill them?'"

Chris just shook his head. "I don't think anyone wants to think about so much deception and corruption in the Government."

"Well it's going to hurt the other three that are left in there. I mean, maybe Emma is safe cause she's all the way in England. But Itty and Y/N?" I asked uncertainly. I hadn't meant to call the small girl Itty. But that's what Y/N had constantly called her and it had stuck in my head.

"Good news." Downey said, walking over to us. "Trump's already in Kentucky- that's where the facility is. Got there last night, he was supposed to be visiting some winery for his Las Vegas hotel. Anyways, he's already been there and they let him walk past Y/N's cell- she's alive- but they wouldn't let him talk to her."

"Cell?" I asked indignantly.

"Room, my bad." Downey said, rolling his eyes. "But from the way he described it, it's a pretty bare, desolate room. So I called it a cell."

"How is that supposed to cheer anyone up?" Chris asked.

Downey shrugged, "Most psychologists are actually idiots."

"You sent me to one!" I protested.

"I sent you to a therapist, they're actually a bit different. Only half of therapists are idiots." Downey said. "I sent you to a good one."

I sighed, "Anyways?"

"Y/N got pretty excited when she saw him, but when she realized they weren't going to let him in, she apparently started doing sign language and that was when they ushered him out. He doesn't know sign language though, so he can't tell us if she was saying anything. She seemed a little panicked though, were his words."

"We need to go." I said. "What's the address? I'll fly out there right now!"

"Calm down Stan." Downey said. "We're leaving after I finish my scenes today. Go and get yourself packed up, be back here by four."

I was a bit pissed about the several hour delay, but knew leaving now would probably result in actually leaving later, depending on the planes.

"Oh and Stan?" Downey called after me, "Pack something for winter weather. We're not going to be in California anymore." 

⬅️➡️

[chenfordsbby]

"Standoff"

Season 1 Episode 9: "Standoff"

“Officer Bradford’s wife is found shot but alive, and he vows to track down the man responsible: Officer Nolan must protect his home and the truth after a home invasion attack”

Original Air Date: January 8, 2019

Written By: Alexi Hawley

Directed By: John Terlesky

Back again with another Shop Drop!! Episode 9 is the episode that aired after coming back from the winter hiatus! So for a good month, we are left wondering what happened to not only Isabel, but with John and Lucy…so let’s find out, shall we?!

__________________________________________________

The episode picks up exactly where we left off, with John being attacked by the victims brother, who is clearly out for revenge.  Lucy listens in and she makes the final decision to make herself known to distract the brother to give John enough leverage to knock him on his ass.  John calls in the attack and Lucy is on edge and in panic mode.  She does not want to get seen or caught being at Johns, given their whole predicament and especially at 1 in the morning aka a booty call.  Lucy leaves the house before any of the cops and ambulances come.  Not for nothing, she is trying to save her ass and whose to blame her.

I think its’ clear that Lucy is starting to move on from this relationship with John.  She clearly knows that the back tracking and their previous nights hook up was a mistake, and like she said, a “heat of the moment” type of thing but John seems a bit more hesitant to let her go so easily.  

For just being attacked, John is very cool, calm and collected; a very stark difference from how his demeanor was in the last episode.  He answers all of Commander West and Captain Anderson questions with no hesitation.  Commander West continues to ask John questions regarding the previous nights invasion, especially because now that the brother awoke, and starting to talk, he just so happens to mention that he heard a second voice in the house last night, but John sticks to his original story…that he was alone, much to Officer Wests dismay.  When all units are called to the apartment, the entire precinct scrambles and makes their way over, including Officer West and John.  I don’t know what Officer West sees when he watches John arrest one of Vance guys, but it must have been something special, because it makes him drop all investigations on John.

The next morning, Captain Anderson notifies John that he is cleared in the fatal shooting of his victim, but there are some holes that are starting to gape in his statement and the investigation in the home invasion from the previous night.  John is sequestered to front desk duty until the investigation can clear.  John is very much out of his element at the front desk he is meant to be out on patrol, that’s a given.

Tim and Angela are out searching for Isabel and they get notified that they found her shot and unconscious in the dumpster.  Tim goes into fight or flight mode, all is forgotten in that moment as he watches her getting wheeled into the ambulance, “Im here baby, Im here”.  At the end of the day, Isabel is still his wife, and nothing else matters.

The Tim we see in the the office with Grey is clearly a different Tim than when we saw him in the first episode.  It’s like he’s speechless, somber.  Isabel is the only thing that’s on his mind and running through his thoughts, nothing and nobody else.  The only mission that Tim sees now is getting Vance, who shot Isabel.

All hands are on deck in getting Vance and the guys involved in Isabels shooting, and we are back to the entire ensemble working together, which is what we love about this show. 

We are getting itty bitty crumbs of Tim and Lucy in this episode.   Lucy confronts Tim and gives him her sympathies regarding Isabel, which he seems to take it in stride. Tim has Lucy go gear up the shop and to make sure she includes the Bradford Special.  We see Tim and Lucy, Angela and Jackson and Talia in the parking lot of the apartment complex where they believe Vance and his men AND his pregnant baby mama are all being held up.  They are ready to take this guy down.  Before entering, we get introduced to The Bradford Special- a chest plate for inside the vest for added protection. I guess Tim has been in a situation similar to this one where his special came in handy..

Tim and Lucy find Cesiah's apartment and push their way in.  They need her to lure Vance to her in order to be successful in taking him down.  So when Cesiah calls Vance to come back,  low and behold Vance is in the damn complex hiding out and he knows the cops are there…and BAM! Shots fired towards Talia and Jackson AND Angela.  Jackson has zero hesitation with shooting back.  It’s only a few episodes after his previous freeze ups, so he is either over that, or he has been working on the side with maybe Angela in order to overcome his holds up over open fire.  

I think a showdown is bound to happen.  Vance is outside the door with Cesiah, Tim and Lucy on the inside.  Tim and Lucys view gets blacked out by Vance’s men so they have to figure something else out.  Tim decides to take Lucy’s body cam and uses it as his eyes.  It’s a small moment, but its almost a little lesson that Tim teaches Lucy. “There’s a body cam app on your city issued phone” which Lucy opens up and together they use the body cam and the app to see what’s going on in the hallway. It really is an ingenious idea and I don’t know if Lucy would’ve thought about that on her own. 

Cesiah’s water breaks, and things are about to get a whole lot dicier, being stranded in the apartment, they have no other choice but to deliver the baby in the apartment.  Cesiah asks Lucy is she’s going to deliver her baby and before giving her an answer, she looks over to Tim.  Maybe its because she isn’t sure if it’s something she’s allowed to do, or she needs his approval to do it, but it’s the start of her always looking to get Tim’s approval and support on all of her decisions.

We don’t see it, but Lucy successfully delivers Cesiah’s baby and within seconds, Vances men enter the apartment, guns blazing and shoots Lucy right in the chest before she can even pull her gun out, knocking her cold out.  But did it hit her chest plate?  Honestly thank god for Tim and his special because as Lucy wakes and we hear and see Tim getting his ass beat by these men, Lucy removes her chest plate and the bullet is right in the middle of it.  Lucy taps in and starts double teaming these guys with Tim, I love watching this side of Lucy.

The detectives, Wolfe and Vestri end up at the apartment building, but unfortunately, they don’t know what they are riding up to and the second the elevator doors open, guns are blazing and shots are being fired form everywhere and both are immediately hit multiple times and they both go down.  Talia witnesses it all and comes to their rescue, and brings them to her safe zone, but Detective Vestri dies from the bullet wounds. 

The episode starts to end with Commander West and Captain Anderson informing John that he is cleared of everything, from the fatal shooting to the home invasion.  It’s been a long few days for John. 

Tim is at Isabels bedside at the hospital and when she wakes up, she whispers to Tim, “I didn’t know that rock bottom had a basement”.  I think its safe to assume that being shot in the head, on the brink of death, was her rock bottom and there is nothing but healing and recovery to happen from there.  What her recovery looks like, only time will tell, but will Tim be a part of it, or even in her future as a recovering addict?  It almost is feeling like the beginning of the end for them.

In the final moments, we see Lucy back at Johns house again, and I think they come to a mutual understanding and decision that even though their romantic aspect of their relationship is over, that doesn’t mean that their friendship has to also be over and they decide to be real friends; friends who can talk about their days with each other, real friends.  I think they are going to be way more successful at that type of relationship.  And with that, I truly believe the “Nucy” of it all has come to a complete close. Finally!

______________________________________________________________

Honorable Mention: The Special Effects Department on this show.  They know how to do their jobs and do it good too.

Episode Peak: Isabel Surviving

Episode Pit: Detective Vestri Dying

Quote of the Episode: “The world isn’t black and white.  And it won’t be better with us off the force.  We’re out there making a difference.  Thank about everybody you have helped.  Now think about what would have happened if you weren’t there.” ~ Lucy Chen

Episode Rating: 8/10.  I forgot how much I thoroughly enjoyed this episode.  It was a very fast paced, action filled one, which I have quickly found out I love.  The only downside to these earlier episodes is the lack of Tim and Lucy, but I know that we’re getting a whole lot more of them soon.  One of my blog readers mentioned to me that, this episode and the previous one almost felt like wrap up episodes for a few of the storylines that they catered too, hence why they were so heavily focused on Isabel and Tim and John and Lucy.  With all that being said, I really, really liked this one!

Side Note: I definitely did not go in order with my recap for this episode, I actually felt like I was all over the place with this one, but everything came to me so quickly and I didn’t know how else to write everything down, I hope it wasn’t too crazy!

Until next time on, “Get in the Shop”…!!!

[earnestlyegos]

Hmmmm

Silly little system fun facts?🗡😃 (not forced, obviously)

-🗡

hmmm uh, well, i’s need a bit more of a specific question but, here are a few things!!

yancy

in the headspace, im a whopping 6’1! im also currently 33, and do not age!

i love to sing nice and loud whenever im driving, music is often on full blast because who doesnt enjoy hearing damage??

despite almost everyone being always antsy, im normally fine with just lounging causa my time back in prison!

eric

in the headspace, hes a tinyy itty bitty 5’5, and hes 28 years old!

despite knowing he doesnt have his handkerchief in the real world, youll sometimes still find him wringing his hands as if he does!

unlike yancy, hes very sensitive to loud sounds, and tends to shy away from harder sounding music like metal or scream.

like yancy, hes fine with just chilling! also like yancy, he isnt the biggest extrovert, and enjoys reading or writing in his free time.

mark

in the headspace, hes 5’10, and and hes 32 years old!

despite his big ego (pun intended), hes a rather shy and reserved guy who prefers to be by his captains side at all times!

he needs to be constantly doing something or he doesnt know what to do with himself, so sometimes he makes up for that need by building legos!

although of course hes mark, he is actually very similar to our host, damien! despite that, the two have never even met, at least not properly, and damien knows all about mark, so its a little bit strange-

hes also extremely used to bland food due to being on the Invincible, considering foods that last a long time often are dry and dont have a lot of flavor!

thanks for the ask, hope you enjoyed! (mostly written by damien)

[memento-rory]

✭ 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭. 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: schlatt shares a secret with you, and an unexpected groomsman shows up early.

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a little ted x reader 😏

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~1.8k

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: eeeeeee part three is finally here! it’s a little bit of filler but, like, meaningful filler. enjoy! 🩵

You don’t want to be a buzzkill, but it’s hard to regulate your anxiety after the snake incident. Making your way back down the trail, in the same direction you came, proves to be pretty difficult when you have no idea where the snake fucked off to. Amelia holds your hand, leading you down the trail, but once you get back to the exact spot the snake was before, your legs start to turn to jelly.

“Do you want Schlatt to carry you again?” Amelia asks, and you see Schlatt pause in front of you.

“No,” You answer, probably too quickly, but you can’t help that. It was bad enough he felt the need to carry you in the first place, you aren’t about to embarrass yourself a second time by needing him. “I can do it, it’s okay.”

“Okay…” Amelia trails off, clearly struggling to believe you — and honestly, you don’t blame her. You’ve slowed down a significant amount since coming upon the spot.

“It’s okay if you can’t.” James says over his shoulder, before stopping. “Snakes are scary as fuck. We get it.” He gives you a comforting smile, “Come on, I’ll carry you this time. It’ll be good for me, since I’m skipping the gym this week.”

You narrow your eyes at him and his eyes go wide. “Oh my God, no I didn’t mean it like that, I swear.” He puts a hand over his heart and a laugh bubbles up and out of you. James has always been good at easing tension.

“Come on wit’ it, girl,” James beckons you to him with a playful grin before squatting down like Schlatt had before. You hop onto his back with ease, and he does a few more squats to show off, winking over at Amelia, who rolls her eyes. “Oh, yeah.” He nods, “I’ve still got it.”

“Alright, enough fuckin’ around,” Schlatt says, a hint of a scowl on his face, “We’ve got other shit to do.”

“Damn. Okay, Captain Cranky,” James mutters under his breath, falling in step behind Schlatt. Amelia shoots you a confused look, one that says, ‘What’s his problem all of a sudden?’ and you just shrug. You know Amelia was probably feeling hopeful that whatever issues you and Schlatt have with each other had just melted away in a single moment.

But you know it would take a hell of a lot more than that.

The next few hours go by surprisingly well — Schlatt keeps his distance on the beach and the boat, though there was a small moment where you feared he might shove you off of the boat, but you digress. As long as he continues to keep his distance, you’re perfectly content.

Except maybe you’re not.

There’s a small, little, itty bitty part of your heart that clenches as you recall how Schlatt had immediately come to your rescue earlier today, no questions asked, doing the most to make you feel safe. It would have been so easy for him to ignore your fears, to laugh in your face and tell you to get the fuck over it — and you’d expected him to do just that, but he’d put aside whatever his problem is with you to take care of you.

You feel like you should say something about it when you return to your rooms, thank him again, maybe, but the disdain in the way he said, “Don’t mention it.” plays on a loop in your head.

So you don’t. Instead, you follow several feet behind him, completely brushing past him as he sticks his card key in the slot of his door. He doesn’t spare you a single glance.

When you get in your room, you peel off your wet clothes and take a shower before changing into something dry and comfortable. Amelia and James are off doing couple-y things, so you have some time to yourself. You think about going out and exploring, but after the morning you’ve had, you think better of it. You need some good ol’ fashioned R&R right about now, and that balcony view is calling your name.

You grab your book and your headphones, heading out onto the balcony. You’re pleased to find that Schlatt is nowhere to be seen. You make yourself comfortable in one of the chairs, kicking your legs up onto the glass table and putting your headphones in. You press play on your favorite playlist and open up your book, immediately getting lost in it.

You read for a good hour before you just barely hear the sound of the sliding door of Schlatt’s room opening in between songs. You don’t look up, simply ignoring him as he comes outside.

That little voice in your head won’t shut up, though — the one that says you should thank him again. After thirty more minutes of distracted reading, you very discreetly pull one headphone out of your ear, turning the volume down on your phone. You look up to see Schlatt lounging in one of the chairs, with one hand resting behind his head, using the other to scroll aimlessly on his phone.

“Hey, um,” You speak up, and you see Schlatt’s eye just barely move to look at you through his peripherals. “Thanks, again, for earlier. I really appreciated it.” It’s hard to get the words out, and you can tell Schlatt clocks the strain in your voice, but you get them out nonetheless.

“It’s whatever.” Schlatt says with a shrug, not bothering to look at you.

Your lips press into a thin line as you get exactly the reaction you expected to.

But suddenly, Schlatt’s sitting up and turning to face your balcony. “Mel didn’t know you’re afraid of snakes?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. “Nope,” you say casually.

Schlatt’s scowls over at you in confusion. “Y’ never told her?”

“If she didn’t know, then chances are I never told her, no.”

Schlatt ignores your smart remark. “So, what, I’m the only one that knows?”

You pause, resisting the urge to huff out a frustrated sigh over this conversation. You wish Schlatt would leave it alone. You hate being reminded that Schlatt knows you more intimately than most.

“I’m the only one that knows.” Schlatt says in realization, and you turn your head away from his gaze to look at the view, hoping he can’t see the way your cheeks grow pink.

A beat of silence passes between the two of you.

“…I’m claustrophobic.” Schlatt utters, switching his own gaze to look over the ocean. “Have all kinds ‘f fuckin’ nightmares about being trapped in small spaces.”

You keep your eyes on the horizon. “I didn’t know that.”

“Nobody does,” Schlatt tells you, standing up from his chair. “Now we’re even.” He says, before disappearing back into his room.

A couple hours later, you’re almost fully finished with your book when your phone pings.

> wedding partaaay! 👰‍♀️🤵‍♂️

> from: ams 🩵

>> put your dancing shoes on, friends! we’re leaving in an hour! 💃🏻

You give a heart react to Amelia’s message, standing up from the balcony to head back inside to get ready.

You cycle through the outfits you’ve packed, trying to figure out what you should wear. When they’re all laid out on the bed, you snap a pic of all your options and send it to Amelia for feedback.

> from: ams 🩵

>> wear the one with the red top. makes your tits look fuckin awesome.

You snort out a laugh, sending her a thumbs up emoji before setting your phone down to play some music while you get ready. You really go all out, taking your time to get yourself all pretty to enjoy the evening. Who knows, maybe you’ll capture someone’s attention on the dance floor. Anything’s possible.

When you’re finally ready, you snap a quick pic of yourself in a couple different poses, and then you grab your purse and head out the door. As soon as you close the door behind you, the door to Schlatt’s room opens, and he stops suddenly, his eyes drifting down your body. You brace yourself for the sleazy bullshit about to come out of his mouth.

“Y’ look nice.” Schlatt says, surprising you. You quirk an eyebrow.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

An awkward silence descends over you, the two of you just awkwardly standing in the hallway. It gets to be a little too much, so you make the first move to step away from him to head to the elevator. He follows after you, and the two of you get into the elevator together.

It’s silent again, and you realize just how small elevators are. You look up at Schlatt, pursing your lips.

“So…” You start, “Elevators. They scare you?”

Schlatt almost smiles but it quickly turns into a neutral expression. “Nah. Like, maybe if it got stuck for a long time, but I can handle a minute in ‘em.”

“Hmm.” is all you say in response.

Amelia lets out a long, “Okaaaay!” as you stride up to her on the outskirts of the lobby, striking a pose, which then prompts James to play paparazzi for a second, taking so many up close photos of you and Amelia together with his phone. You both dissolve into giggles at the silliness of it all, and all of the craziness that’s happened today washes off of your shoulders. You’re fuckin’ ready to party.

Schlatt stands off to the side, checking his phone, and James all but tackles him and wraps an arm around his shoulders, shaking him excitedly. “Get pumped, bro!”

Schlatt laughs, shimmying out of James’ grip, “I’m pumped, dude.”

“I’m super fuckin’ pumped,” You hear a deep voice behind your little group, and you spin around to see Ted with his arms wide open. “Surprise!”

“Teddy!” You and Amelia call out in unison, both rushing him for a hug.

“I thought you weren’t gonna make it until later this week!” James says, and Ted beams, his arms around you and Amelia’s shoulders.

“What can I say, I’m persuasive,” Ted says, “Managed to convince my boss to let me come out early.” He looks down at you and Amelia and then over at James. “You guys look good as fuck. What are we doin’?”

“Clubbin’,” Amelia grins up at him. “You in?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m in.” Ted nods, pulling away from the two of you. “I gotta find somewhere to change, though. My room’s not ready because I showed up too early.”

“I got you, man,” Schlatt says, clapping a hand on his shoulder, “You can bunk with me for a few days.”

“Hell yeah, dude,” Ted nods, grabbing his suitcase, “Lead the way.”

“We’ll meet you at the club, I’ll send you the address.” James offers.

“Sounds good.” Ted responds, turning around to follow after Schlatt, but before they get very far, he turns back around.

“(Y/N)!” He calls out, and you turn around to see him smirking at you. “Save me a dance.”

Ted winks at you and you blush, nodding your head to promise him that dance.

You don’t see the way Schlatt’s face contorts with jealousy.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 ✭ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 →

[ajaxeology]

6:35PM [Kazuha]

genre: angst

c/w: separation

note: note: so @rxspbrrry and I had a small discussion about Kazuha. Also shoutout to her for beta-reading this , lovE UUU MWAHH AAAAAA. Sorry to those affected by the repost!

You detest the sun for how it sprints across the sky. It wasn't that long ago the sun stretched its rays from the horizon. But somehow you are already at the harbour watching the golden orb tuck itself under its blanket.

Annoyance scalds your chest because you still don’t have an answer even after a whole day. What is it that is between you and Kazuha? Friends? Best friends? Lovers? Even the salty air in the space between the two of you doesn't know.

That scene repeats in your head again. When you told him you loved him just before he left because of the Vision Hunt Decree. You watched his back as he walked away, blending into the sea of people before he vanished from your sight. Even though he said that he loved you the same way, just like how a tree loves the sun.

You redirect your anger towards the Raiden Shogun. If only she did not order the Vision Hunt Decree, it would have been different. 

During the decree, you received occasional letters from him. His words are devoid of any romantic love and the thought crushes your cracked heart into itty-bitty pieces. But in between the ink of the poem he's written for you, you think he loves you. Again and again, you pick up the shattered pieces and put them together again with gold.

The only reminder of Kazuha's presence beside you are the light thuds of his steps on the boardwalk. The distant orders of Captain Beidou to her crew grow louder, serving as a cruel reminder of another looming separation. 

When you no longer hear his footsteps, it pulls you out of your mind.

He's always wandering, always moving towards a new destination. So when he stops for no apparent reason, it alarms you. You turn and finally look him in the eye ever since the two of you separated from the others.

Ruby-red. It reminds you of the red you see when you think of him.

Ruby-red. It reminds you how beautiful he is. You don’t know if you can pay the price of loving a diamond like him. One that shimmers with a new kaleidoscopic pattern every time you look at it.

But you don't see the sorrow and remorse that swirls in those red eyes. The breeze has been screaming to him that it is his fault you carry your heavy heart through the days. The salt in the air pricks his eyes, demanding him to return the silent tears that soak your pillowcase in the night.

He sees the red of his eyes in yours, its shade matching the maple leaves that fall behind you. It’s going to be another goodbye again. Kazuha suppresses the urge to take his hand in yours. A touch of you before he departs miles away from you again.

A moment of only the crash of waves lapses. You ask him what’s wrong and he lies that the maple leaves seem to have given him a new idea for a new poem. Forcing a chuckle, you start inching towards the Alcor with him.

He has one foot on the first step when he reaches the stairs that ascend to the deck. Turning back, he asks you if there's anything you want to tell him.

Maybe, just maybe, he would try to stop his feet from running where they please if you asked. Stop trying to run away to another corner of the world, where he'll eventually leave again. 

If you had nothing to say, he’d tell you to forget him.

You feel your desires overflow the bottle you've shoved them all into.

"Stay."

Is what you want to say. But you keep your lips zipped for the weightless word will hold him down as an immovable mountain when you let it loose.

Kazuha is wrong for saying that he loves you like how the tree loves the sun, you think.

You're the tree that stays anchored; feeling the wind come and go. You're the shore that does not move; welcoming the sea when it washes up on the sand and giving farewell when it resides. No matter how hard you clutch onto him, he'll slip through the gaps that you can't see with your naked eye.

"Make sure to send me letters. I’ll be here when you visit again."

Kazuha smiles sadly. He leans down to the crown of your head, lips hovering above your skin. His breath fans your forehead as he asks, “May I?”

He does not have the heart to tell you to forget him and for once, he sees himself as a selfish fool. Unwilling to let go of a gem he cannot appreciate. It’s a pity that he’s the one you love.

You hum. He gives a kiss on your forehead, so light it could have been a feather’s tip brushing against your skin. When he can no longer see the docks from the top of the ship’s mast, the taste of you is already a faded photograph in the museum of his mind. An exhibit he has already made himself walk past.

[onsunnyside]

⋆˚♡˳ a little bit "obsessed"

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Jake Wyler x bratty!cheerleader!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | himbo!Jake but he's cute about it, swearing, probably second-hand embarrassment

𝗪/𝗖 | 1.5K

𝗔/𝗡 | there's just something about Jake being all nervous and corny. if you want to be tagged for this series, just send me an ask or comment!

𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Jake has a(n arguably well-known) crush on you and he’s a little obsessed with you, he’s debated on how to properly “butter you up”.

He tries with words and stops you in the halls to ask about your day, he plays calm and collected. He wishes he could be effortlessly cool around you—like he is with everyone else but you just have an effect on him.

At football games, he’ll be drawn to you when halftime rolls around.

Sometimes he gets distracted by you in your tiny cheer skirt and will nearly be tackled.

One game, it was chilly and most of the crowd were bundled in scarfs and hats. The cheer squad was wearing their uniform pants or skirts and turtlenecks. Before the game started, Jake offered you his varsity jacket in case you got too cold. Most of the team did that with their partners and even though he reassured you it was nothing but a friendly gesture, you knew it was more than that (to him, at least).

"You know, just so you don't get sick."

You cocked your hip, your breath visible in the cool air. "I don't want to smell like you for the rest of the evening. The usual onion stench masked by cheap body spray?" Which was completely untrue, Jake certainly didn't smell bad, quite the opposite. Like rich vanilla and cinnamon, sometimes he smelt like lavender.

Jake's eyes widened. "Do I actually smell?" He lifted the collar of his jersey to his nose, then looked back at you.

Over his shoulder, you could see Jake's little entourage of admirers. Girls and boys, from freshman to seniors, all equally taken by the dark-haired and blue-eyed captain. Heart-eyes, fawning, compliment after compliment, endless praises—they gave Jake everything.

You didn't get jealous over a boy who wasn't yours. You didn't get jealous over a boy who wanted so hopelessly to be yours. So you ignored their stares, some judgemental, others bewildered because who would deny Jake Wyler's varsity jacket?

"—freeze?"

"What?"

"I really wouldn't want you to be cold. I don't think I smell but a lot people can’t smell themselves." Jake blinked slowly, "I've been told I smell good, a lot of people like my cologne. Does... Does it smell bad to you?" He pouted. Clad in his football gear, helmet in one hand and dark eyebrows drawn together. "I'll get a new one if you don't like this one."

You wanted to laugh but covered your mouth with your hand.

"Not only because you don't like this one! I'm not, I'm not that desperate." He chuckled nervously. "But, hypothetically, would you rather me change my cologne?"

"No!" A small shout came from his group of admirers. "Don't, please!" Another added.

You took one step closer, a smirk on your glossy lips. "They say no."

"But what do you say?" Jake's voice lowered, having you this close, he could count every glitter on your cheeks.

You were tempted to give him a shrug, but instead, you played nice. "Well, hypothetically, I've grown fond of your cologne. And, it would break my little heart if you changed it, hypothetically, of course."

Shit, that itty bitty hint of a flirt, Jake could have jumped up in glee (he actually did, his right foot did a little kick and he'd hate himself later for it but it made you giggle). Then, his coach blew the whistle and he had to return to the locker room.

"Wear it if you get cold, please?" Was his final request before following his fellow teammates, shoulder pads making him look even broader.

He gave you once last glance, you could see it in his face; how desperately he wanted you to wear his jacket.

A while later when he looked over mid-game, he froze like a deer in headlights—you were sitting on the bench with his varsity jacket zipped up to your chin.

That moment he was actually bodychecked so hard he had to sit out for the rest of the game. Jake seized the opportunity to talk to you, flirting his ass off and messing up plenty of times because why the hell does your smile make him weak? until the timer hit zero and the team won. That was the day he finally got your number.

You've though about it; did you make a mistake giving your number to the guy who was in-love with you?

Maybe not. But also maybe yes. You were indecisive about that.

Jake texts you often, sending cute messages about how pretty you looked at school, how good your presentation was in class, how you 'stole the show' at the football game during halftime, to which you reply with “I know”. Honestly he shouldn’t have expected anything else.

Sometimes you leave him on read, but Jake pays it no mind. One time you texted him first, it was about homework, but still, he counts that as a win.

Some mornings, he’ll meet you at your locker with breakfast and an adorable smile.

His friends joked about his obsession when he started meeting you after every class to walk you to your next. Even holding you bag and books while you sipped on your iced coffee or reapplied your lipgloss. When your friends stop to talk to you in halls, he stands there and waits patiently for you to be done. He also pretends that he doesn’t see the suggestive looks your friends give you.

He’ll text you asking where you are or what class you’re in, and he’ll meet you as soon as the bell rings and walk you to your next class. People always want to talk to Jake, but he'll wave them off for you every time, "I'd pick you over any of them any day" he once said with the reddest cheeks ever. Chatting you up usually starts with him being confident, then he'll shy away and give you the sweetest grin and wave as you walk into your class.

One day he complimented your lipgloss and slyly asked what it tasted like, you proceeded to kiss your fingers and press them to his mouth before walking into class with a cheeky wink.

Jake didn’t even know what to tell his friends when they asked why he looked like a tomato.

When Christmas rolled around, you got a candy gram from him attached to a small note with a corny Christmas pick up line: 'I didn't think I was a snowman, but you just make my heart melt.'

He also got you gift cards for you favourite stores, and a new mirror for your locker since you made an off-hand comment about it being too small. He mentioned taking you to the Christmas Market for the full experience, "Seeing you outside of school?"

"We could get hot chocolate and watch the parade."

"Let me rephrase, seeing you outside of school on purpose?" You tilted your head.

Jake nodded, arms bundled with your books and gifts.

"So, not like when you randomly pop up while I'm out with my friends?" You began taking things from him, replacing your old mirror with the new one. It was the perfect size and in a cute pink sparkly frame. "You have a terrible habit of knowing where I am at all times..." You trailed off, looking at him with a narrowed gaze. "Got something to confess, Jake?"

"Your friend is dating one of my best friends and he invites me out because," I really like you and want to be around you all the time, "I love doing... things."

"Like shopping? Going to ice cream shops, and having spa days?"

Jake's eyes were begging for a way out. So you gave him one, taking your things and giving him your old mirror, not before pressing a kiss on the surface, "Why don't you take that home, sweetheart, a little piece of me since you want me around so much."

Only then does he realize he said that aloud.

Valentine’s Day is a considerably more cheesy. He meets you in the morning with a bright smile and sparkling eyes, giving you a box of chocolates, a red heart shaped balloon and a single rose. You thought he would’ve stopped at that because in the middle of his "I like-like you" confession, he was interrupted by a student walking who groaned about how everyone already knew about his crush.

He didn’t think he was that transparent but then again, the yearbook committee asked about adding: - has a giant crush on Y/F/N Y/L/N. to his biography in the football segment (and he may have said yes but he’ll absolutely deny it).

You received two more roses during first period, then he met you before second period to give you three more. That was how the whole day went, and eventually you were struggling to hold 45 roses when the bell rang. You were stunned to see Jake standing outside your class with ten more roses.

You thought about telling him that it was too much, maybe blow a bubble with your gum and pop it in his face. Be a brat to try and get him to step back but that’s never worked before, so why would it work now when he’s looking at you all loved up?

Instead, you thank him with a simple caress of his cheek and leave the school, throwing the roses in the backseat of your convertible, hoping they’d fly away as you sped home. And they did, all except one that you deemed worthy of keeping.

𝗝𝗮𝘄𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿! 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝘀 | @bookwormchick91

[babybluebex]

me and my husband [baron zemo x reader]

summary ↠ in the process of making sure zemo is okay after a fight in latvia, you find a way to put captain john walker in his place. pairing ↠ baron zemo x fem!reader (y/n) word count ↠ 1.6k warnings ↠ explicit language, itty bitty tfatws ep. 4 spoilers, john walker being misogynistic and a Total Dick a/n ↠ (yes the title is a mitski reference) enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio! (also thank u @therenlover for your invaluable support and screaming in my instagram dms)

As far as you were concerned, John Walker could rot in hell.

You had only just heard the fight break out, the smashing of glass making your quicken your step, and you had rushed into the room the moment that Walker, in his infinite prickishness, had hurtled that dumb metal shield through the air. You had watched it collide against your husband’s cheek, and Helmut had gone limp instantly and crumpled to the floor.

“What the hell?” you had cried, enraged, and Bucky and Sam were quick to come in after you. “What the fuck was that for, you prick?”

John Walker had given you a confused look, then looked to his partner, then to Sam and Bucky. Originally, Sam had initially been opposed to bringing you along on their mission to retrieve information about the Flag Smashers, but your husband had extended an ultimatum: “She comes with me, or I don’t come at all.” They needed Zemo to get into Madripoor, so the Americans sighed and allowed you to come. You yourself weren’t quite sure why Zemo was insistent that you come with him, but, the moment you saw him get hit by Captain America’s shield, it made sense: to vouch for him when he couldn’t.

“Who’re you?” John had asked carefully, and Sam huffed out a laugh.

“Aw, this’ll be good,” Sam had mumbled as you stormed towards John. Your shoes clicked against the floor as you came chest to chest with him, and you planted your hands on your hips.

“My name is Zemo,” you had told him. “And you just gave my husband a concussion.”

John stared at you for a minute, then at Helmut at his feet, then back at you. “Husband?” he replied. “But he’s been in jail for seven years.”

“Of all the people to explain my relationship to, you are not high on that list,” you spat. “Now, get him up.”

John looked around at his compatriots in obvious confusion, and Bucky sighed. “Just do it, man,” he mumbled.

“And why won’t you do it?” John asked.

“Because he’s not the one with the giant metal trash can lid strapped to his arm,” you said. “You are. You are the one who hurt my husband, and you are going to fix this. So, Captain, I suggest you move him from the middle of the floor.”

And now, finally back in the small Latvian flat, you were able to properly tend to Helmut. He had come to just as John had set him on the sofa, and you could gauge that he was concussed. It didn’t seem too bad, but he was still a bit disoriented. Helmut gave a small groan, certainly one of pain, and you whispered, “There he is. How’re you feeling, love?”

Helmut glanced around you for a moment, trying to get his bearings, and he mumbled, “What happened?”

“An American oaf with a trash can lid took you out,” you explained. “He got you in the face pretty good.” Gingerly, you skimmed your fingers over his cheek, testing for any tenderness, and you heard a low groan escape him when you touched the red patch on his face. “Let me get you an ice pack.”

“I can do it, mein Schatz,” Helmut began, but you gently pushed on his chest to keep him down.

“Hel, please,” you sighed. “You need to rest. Let me take care of you.”

After a moment, your husband sighed and laid back down, and he rested his head back on a pillow. Just as you stood up, Helmut reached out and grabbed your hand tightly. “You’re too good to me,” he mumbled, stroking his thumb along the back of your hand. “What would I do without you?”

“There’s no telling,” you sighed, and you leaned down to kiss him. He kissed back, a bit weak and tired, but his hand on yours spoke the words that his kiss didn’t. “Take off your jacket, my love, you’ll get too warm.”

You walked across the space to the bathroom, and you grabbed a small hand towel to run under some cold water. As you did your task at the kitchen sink, you heard John, Bucky, Lamar, and Sam all muttering between themselves, and you hardly listened to it. You expected it to be some drivel about teamwork or patriotism or whatever it was that any conversation with Captain America turned to, but you finally tuned in when you heard your husband’s name. “Zemo’s got you two cornered,” John said. “Making you do his shit for him. And he demanded to bring her along? Why didn’t you say no?”

“We needed him,” Bucky replied. “And there’s no him without her.”

“Oh, they’re some sorta Bonnie and Clyde?” John huffed. “You’re harboring a fugitive here. A-And you! You’d really put your wife in danger like this?”

“Mein Schatz is resourceful,” you heard Helmut mutter, and you drained the rag of excess water before moving back to him as he spoke. “Smart, clever, and cunning; I married her for a reason.”

You sat on the floor next to him and settled the cold rag over his eyes. He smiled a little and gave a quiet groan, and you rested your hand on his chest. He had done as you had asked and taken off his coat, but you still saw the red flush under his collar. Carefully, you reached up and undid the top few buttons in his wine-colored shirt, and you gave a playful tug at his gold necklace. “Can I get you anything?” you asked him quietly; you spoke in Sokovian, for no other reason than to make John and Lamar squirm.

“Bourbon?” Helmut asked, following your linguistic lead.

“Of course,” you replied. You took his hand off of his stomach and gave his knuckles a kiss, and added, “Anything else?”

“A kiss,” Helmut said, and he gave a quiet little laugh. “I can’t see your face, my treasure, but I know you’re grimacing at me.”

“Never,” you said with a click of your tongue, but you sat up on your knees and pressed a soft kiss to your husband’s lips. You liked kissing Helmut Zemo, especially moments like this, when it was just you and him. Of course, you were surrounded by men who were all bigger and stronger than both of you, but your mother language gave you a feeling of exclusion that you welcomed.

“Alright, whatever the fuck this is has gotta stop,” John groaned, and you broke away from the kiss slowly. “Listen, we’ve put up with a lot of your shit, Zemo, but your little cock-sleeve or whatever she is is taking things one step too far.”

Helmut sighed with the weight of the insult, took up your hand blindly and squeezed, and he whispered, “Go easy on him, won’t you?”

“Would you?” you asked, and planted a quick kiss to his cheek. You stood carefully and smoothed out your shirt, and then you turned to John. He truly was an impressive figure, but you felt his uneasiness radiating off of him. You were the player, and he the instrument; you only had to find the right chord. “First of all,” you began. “Insulting a woman because she likes to have sex? Low blow, Walker. I thought that Cap respected women.”

“He does,” Bucky said. “He’s supposed to.”

“I’m not Steve--”

“Did I ever say Steve?” you snapped. “No, I said Cap. Captain America is a title and a role that you should be fucking thankful for, and you treat it like a curse that’s been put on you. Cap protects and serves, and look at what you’ve done while you’ve had that shield: you’ve been frolicking around on television and causing more trouble than you’re worth.”

Sam gave an affirmative grunt from over your shoulder, and, if you had been facing him, you would have seen the way he pressed his fist into Zemo’s shoulder with a smile.

“You may not be Steve,” you said, taking a step closer. “I truly doubt that the world needs another Steve Rogers. But Captain America is supposed to inspire peace and freedom and trust and all of those American buzzwords, and you’re doing a piss-poor job at it. You have to trust that Sam and Bucky are making the right decisions here, even if those decisions involve me and my husband.” You paused and titled your head in trademark Zemo fashion, a habit you had picked up from Helmut, and you said, “I think that you’re forgetting that you’re in the presence of a man-- the man-- who managed to dismantle the Avengers. Bucky wouldn’t have gotten him out of prison without a good fuckin’ reason, and I think that his help’s been pretty invaluable. But what do I know, right? I’m just his little cock-sleeve.”

You pushed John aside in order to go to the kitchen area and fulfill Helmut’s request of a drink, and you felt proud of yourself. You had wanted to put him in his place ever since you had first heard of him, and your stomach was warm with pride.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Zemo,” John called across the room as you settled a few ice cubes into a small tumbler. “Sometimes I just… I’m sorry.”

“I’m not sure if I want to accept that apology or not,” you replied. “Let me sleep on it.” You brought the drink back to Helmut, and he moved himself to sit up on the couch properly. You took the cool towel from his face and carefully pressed it to the back of his warm neck, and you watched John and Lamar exchange uncomfortable glances. “Oh, and, Captain?” you added, and he turned to look at you. “Missus is nice, but it’s Baroness Zemo to you.”

[tony-stark-ing]

Hi, I just learned a fact that I just love about Tony Stark, I don’t know if you heard it too but he goes to orphanages to hold tiny babies when he’s sad, stressed, and can’t sleep.

OMG, I am literally crying! This is too good to be true, I never thought he would do that (especially with his attitude towards Baby Starbrand. “Aww, she’s so precious! *sniffs* Oh, gross, did you just poop? *gags* Carol, go change this!” Yep, I read that comic, he’s fine until Baby Starbrand cries, soils herself, or vomits (thankfully, not shown but we do get Tony Stark ranting on how disgusting messy diapers are while Thor calls him “crazy”) and basically having a panic attack when she starts crying. (Yep, he acts like those dads from those 80s and 90s comedy films where the dad is left with the kids and he does not know what to do and you either facepalm or laugh at how ridiculous he is (these clips on YouTube basically sum it up: https://youtu.be/FgsQDGPchGE) He eventually gives her to Captain Marvel because he can’t handle the gross parts of parenting. But he no longer has this attitude towards babies, guess Brandi helped him develop a stomach. Sorry to gross you out with that but that was big point in his character) Come to think of it, I thought it will only live in my imagination/fanart.

I draw it, a lot!

https://www.instagram.com/p/CeMcNpdvRAM/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

https://www.instagram.com/p/CaOokexrsGO/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

I have a soft heart and loved babies my whole life, you’d find me drawing them a lot! (I love seeing stuff like this) (Either he’s one of those people who love holding and playing with babies but when they cry or need changing, he’d hand them off to someone else because he doesn’t want to deal with it or he doesn’t mind that stuff just diapers until now)

Like, I am legit crying rn!

He’s Iron Dad! He’s a surrogate father who loves kids, he has lots of surrogate children and he finds peace in holding babies!

I wonder if he can go beyond and care for babies too like the dad he is!

Tony is just wholesome!

Hi! Oh I read that comic! It was so sweet! I have read all of the main series Iron Man run from Tales of Suspense to modern day (though I don't remember every detail of every issue lol). Tony is such a soft boy!

Love all the details in your art!

I love babies and kids as well! That's why I became a teacher, so I could work with the itty bitties. My love of children is also why I have an absolute WEAKNESS for fan fiction where Tony gets de-aged and the others (namely Steve) have to look after him.

Oh yeah, Tony is such a dad. I don't even think he realizes how many kids he's basically adopted and is looking out for.

[ashdumpsterpile]

Academy Era Mckirk

anyway here's my top 10 academy era mckirk recs enjoy.

Step 1: Enlist in Starfleet. Step 2: ????? Step 3: Profit. by hellostarling

Jim spends three years at the Academy, and he totally manages it all by himself. Well, Bones helps a little. Or a lot. Maybe.

This is Jim's Starfleet education and all that entails: the ups, the downs, the prank wars, the winter vacations, and the awkward boners.

Once More unto the Breach by AnEscapeFromReality

James Kirk was the rudest student Professor Heleine ever taught. He stomped out of the middle of the professor's lecture like he wasn't a mere cadet. Well, the professor was done putting up with him. If he couldn't sit through an expert lecture, then he should give the lecture about Tarsus. That would teach him some respect.

What Sulu Sees by IsmayDeVain

How Kirk Slowly Endears Himself to His Crew by Becoming a Human Punching Bag, Plunging off a 300 Foot Cliff, Getting Crushed by a Giant Ass Pipe, Nearly Getting Blown to Itty Bitty Bits, and Suffocating Because of His Own Medically Inept Body. (Although, not necessarily in that order.) Or five times Kirk puts his crew before himself and one time they return the favor.

(this is post Star Trek 2009, but it includes flashbacks to the academy so I'm counting it.)

Shelter by schweinsty

Five times Jim told someone about Tarsus IV, and one time they already knew.

The World May Never Know by SadieYuki

How many lies does it take to get to the center of a Jim Kirk?

Or, five times Jim Kirk hid the truth from Leonard McCoy, and one time he finally opened up.

Cpt C. Pike and C/ J.T. Kirk’s guide to unexpected Co-Habitation by InsaneSociopath

When the Admiralty first delivered their ultimatum, Chris Pike didn't know who ought to be more offended; Jim Kirk, for being treated as if he were incapable of being independent despite being twenty-two and a certified genius; or Chris himself, for not getting any choice in who lived in his spare bed room for the next twelve months dammit!

Or: Things Captain Christopher Pike learns about both himself and Cadet James T Kirk during their (not so) brief period of (initially) forced co-habitation.

Leonard H. McCoy's Guide to Keeping a Friend by highschool-facelesshellion (mutalune)

Leonard came to Starfleet with nothing except a half-finished degree and an empty bottle of cheap booze. It took him months to realize he had a best friend waiting in the wings for him to get his act together.

Or: How Leonard made a best friend by being an unobservant but decent person and how his conscience wouldn't let him be undeserving of the kid's freak affection.

Quirks and Their Side Effects by highschool-facelesshellion (mutalune)

Jim Kirk's always been a weirdo.

Leonard could use some more weird.

The Little Things by summoner_yuna_of_besaid

Jim thinks about how he came to this moment: how he just happened to go and visit Bones when the man was with a patient diagnosed with ADHD who was looking to refill his medication. Funny, he thinks as more tears roll down his face and his lips tremble, how the most innocuous little things can change your life, forever.

...

In which Jim Kirk learns about himself and his mind, struggles to understand it, and his friends and family help him handle the fall out.

Any Road Will Take You There by shoreleave

Slow-developing K/M, beginning right after the shuttle ride and showing what happens the first year at the Academy. Told from McCoy's POV.

___

(anyway drop into my inbox to cry with me about aos kirk)

[aqqleshiqqing-archive]

Awwwww I loved reading your gush about spaceboy!!🥰🥰 Idk how to explain it exactly but he totally sounds like your type! Again, I’m not familiar with this fandom but I just GOTTA know more tidbits about him and Clover’s relationship (if you have anything else fleshed out)!!!

thunder you make my heart go heehooheehoo everytime AEAEAEAEAWAE iM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THEM EVEN IF YOU'RE NOT ENTIRELY FAMILIAR 😭😭 (honestly the same was applicable to e.w before you watched it 🥺)

YOU ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD BECAUSE I INDEED HAVE WRITTEN MORE TIDBITS ABOUT THEM NOT TOO LONG AGO!!

a little backstory, clover was intended to be a simple forest nymph because I simply adore anything green and you already know that!! but when I posted my spaceclover art, someone in the tags asked if she was supposed to be a humanoid sprout mole (aka, the cute little bulbous plant creatures you see that's cuddling spaceboy!!)

after giving it some thought, I will now confirm that YES she is a humanoid sprout mole!! but here's a twist!! she can switch to human AND sprout mole at will, as long as she absorbed enough water from her homeland to go on human! but if she does run low on juice, she is but an itty bitty sprout mole, just like her people <3 it's not hard to identify her because she has a clover on her stem instead of an ordinary leaf!

but jil, what does this mean? she's a sprout mole, what does that mean? what does spaceboy and clover have now?

HOLDS YOUR SHOULDERS AND YELLS

BIG x SMALL DYANMIC!!!!!!!

YES U HEARD ME, THEY'RE MY FIRST SHIP TO CONTAIN A BIG X SMALL DYNAMIC AND IM GOING ALL OUT THIS IDEA 😭😭😭😭😭 LOOK AT ME LOSING MY MIND HERE

DO U FEEL ME ITS BEAUTIFUL AMAZING WONDERFUL 1000000 YAYAYAYEYYAYWYAS IT MAKES ME HHRHHRHRRHRJR <33333333 im so excited too because like I said, this is a new dyanmic I can play with and I have a lot of thought just from that alone WHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH I also really like their aesthetic of space x nature i think it should be explored a lot more c:

this one's a little off topic now but I still need to mention this, all in one go amirite haha 😎

she is loved by his pirate crew, because they see her as the one who "helped him move on" and "made him even better than before" because his crew had to deal with spaceboy's ugly crying and moping BSBSBDHSJRH so I like to imagine how much respect and joy they get when she comes to visit!! she's also like a foreigner in their "land" so it's refreshing to have new people hehe and would definitely love to hear her mundane and simple stories because it's certainly a new thing for them hehe 🥺 oh and they all go eat snowcones together. spaceboy of course treating everyone because he's just that great of a captain 🥺 it's a fun time here <3

TYSM I HAD SO MUCH FUN 😭😭😭😭🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧💚💚💚

[bedlamsbard]

Talk about Captain America the First Avenger? I'm feeling nostalgic atm and considering a rewatch and I really do think they do a great job establishing Steve's character even though it's wild in that early MCU way

STEVE. I did a rewatch -- reasonably recently? Within the past month, I think, so it's mostly fresh in my head.

CATFA had to do a lot -- it had to introduce Steve Rogers, Captain America, as a character, and do so with Steve Rogers first, and Captain America as a side effect of Steve, but also do so in such a way that you could tell that Steve was flexible enough that he wouldn't shatter under the pressure of things getting really, really weird. (Things get weird around Steve so many times in this movie.) It's also setting up the MCU -- specifically Earth MCU -- as something where weird shit just happens occasionally in a way that the frost giant attack in Thor can sort of just pass over because it happened so long ago. It sets up the Steve-Bucky relationship that's going to inform so much of Steve's actions going forwards. It sets up HYDRA. It sets up the Infinity Stones, and I know I just said that the MCU struggles with how to deal with the PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWER itty bitty living space of the individual Stones, but I think CATFA does it really well because it's very clear how extremely over their heads everyone on Earth is dealing with the Tesseract. We get those bits and bobs of continuing Asgardian presence/interference on Earth that isn't really returned to again -- that church clearly doesn't date back to 965 AD, so what happened? (like, I get why the MCU didn't really want to deal with HYDRA idealization of Asgardians as potential ubermensch, but it's brushed over very briefly.) Steve's EVERYTHING in this film, both skinny Steve and Steve once he's gotten serum-ed up. Man simultaneously does not give a shit about anything and gives a shit about SO many things, and he's terrifyingly hard-edged. Also like...he has a photographic memory. I feel like that's not touched on enough.