chute out

love the idea of swallowing a bearing ball… goes right down the chute… and right out the other end completely fine. clean and unmarred. perfect. that’s what it is all about, really

@what-the-flug
The idea of mad! Flug came from that beauty! Try checking out their blog before reading! :D
——————————————–
“Flug!!” Snarled the annoyed voice.
The anxious scientist made his way towards his boss, tripping on his feet along the way.
“S-sorry sir! W-what is-” Dr. Flug pauses midsentence to gasp. There in Black Hat’s arms was a knocked out super hero. A wide grin stretches across the scientist’s hidden face.
“We’ve brought in another one. 5.0.5 managed to grab him after destroying half the city. The hero knocked right out after he was used as a chew toy.” Sneered Black Hat. The demon dropped the hero to Dr. Flug’s feet.
“Do… Whatever you do with those heroes. I’m surprised you manage to keep them quiet wherever you put them.” Muttered Black Hat, walking off. As soon as he laid his eyes on the unconscious hero, a million thoughts ran through his head on what he’d do. Flug immediately began dragging the body away. Dragging the body was easy for him, picking it or lifting it up long distances was another. He could only pick them up short distances. Enough to make it from the lab to a trash can out back that later burned trash periodically. I mean, what else was he gonna do with corpses? Leave them to rot and stink? He was evil, but he was not trashy, no. Flug dragged the body into the lab, and behind his desk. He glanced around, making sure he wasn’t followed. As soon as he saw the coast was clear he opened a small patch on the floor, tossing the body down, before climbing down himself. The room was dark, dimly lit by a light in the middle of the room, which shined above a glass dome over a large pit. Where Flug kept heroes to rot. He tossed the hero he had been given into the pit from a small opening in the dome before sealing it shut as he always did. He studied the hero, mumbling noted out loud.
“Hero appears to be.. Cumulus. Abilities include controlling the amount of water in the air along with weather to a small extent.” He searches around the table he had beside the pit, finding a needle beside a multitude of blood samples from different heroes from the past. He tied a small cord around his body before hopping down into the pit holding a remote and a small needle. He gets on his knees beside the sleeping hero, poking her skin with the small sharp object. As he did this, the hero squirmed with discomfort.
“Hey! Hey. Hey, sshh. It’s all fine. Doc just needs a bit of blood is all. Then we can poke you and cut you and potentially zap you until you make your way to the little gates down below!” Dr. Flug giggled softly. His voice wad smooth as silk and clear as day a polar opposite to him outside the room. He pulls the needle away, with a considerable amount of blood in the needle, the blood a grayish hue. He sighs, getting up. “Too bad too. You were such a cool hero.” Dr. Flug sighs.
As he begins walking back, the hero shoots up with loud gasp, snapping her neck towards the villain.
“you.” She spat. “Where am I!?” She raises her hand, shards of ice forming in the air at rapid speed as Flug presses a button on the remote. As the shards fly towards him, the rope around his waist pulls him swiftly out of the pit, missing the shards just barely! He slams the pit’s opening shut and giggled frantically.
“Hahaha! You almost got me there you little hero, you!!” Dr. Flug cackles. The hero stands up. “where am I!? Let me go you bastard!!” She snarls. Dr. Flug ignored her, setting the blood sample inside a vial labeled the hero’s name, setting it right along side others.
“interesting note to add! Not only can you affect the water levels in the air, you can also change temperature as well! You’re blood could make a great freeze ray!! Ohh, how exciting!” He grins.
“Let. Me. OUT!!” Roared Cumulus, shooting a multitude of ice shards at the ice. The loud thud of the ice’s impact against the seal made Flug jump with surprise. “it’s no use doll!! Impenetrable!” Sang Dr. Flug. Cumulus snarls. “So- so what!? You gonna test me? You gonna torture me? Brain wash me? Control me!?” The hero growls out. Flug taps his chin. “you know. Giving the villain, the person with the upper hand, options is not a good move. However! I will happily accept torture!!” Cheered Flug. He presses a button on the table and arms flung out the side of the pit, grabbing the hero’s arms and legs. Flug hops down yet again with the remote, walking up to the hero who’s now unable to move. She squirms and tugs at the arms trying to break free, alas it was no use. Dr. Flug walks up to her, reaching his hand out. The girl immediately flinched making Flug laugh. He lightly grabs her chin, looking closely at her face. The girl shakes her head, snapping forward to bite his fingers. “You won’t get shit out of me.” She spat. Dr. Flug chuckles slowly, his laugh chilling and dark, unlike his normal self. “Oh sweetie. What do you think I’m torturing you for? Go on. Guess.” He eggs her on.
“Info? Weaknesses? Any villain would be stupid not to want that.” She scoffs. “Not necessarily now! A smart villain tortures for info because he lacks it without others to give him the info. A GOOD villain tortures for fun because he already has all the info he needs.” Dr. Flug grins.
“What? So you’re torturing me without reason? How stupid!” Cumulus cackles.
“See now you’re learning! Evading me from my true goals! Good! Good! But you know, the thing is. When you have a reason, once that reason is reached, you no longer have a reason to hurt! Its a stopping point for pain. A way out for heroes,”
He grips her chin rougher than before, making her unable to shake him off, “See, I don’t want that way out for you. You’re trapped here. No matter. What. You. Do!” Dr. Flug spins himself, harshly kicking her dead in the face making Cumulus let out a choked roar in pain. Flug spins back around to face her, punching her on the opposite side of her face, knocking out a tooth. She spits blood onto the doctor. “Fuck. You.” She pants. “Aww! No thanks.” He hissed, running back and kicking her in the stomach. She yells scratchily, doubling over in pain, gasping for air as she hack up blood. Her body falls weak. She’d have fallen on all fours had if not been for the arms holding her in place. Flug punched her face upward, staring her dead in the eye.
“Go on now. Do something about this. Drown me, freeze me, stab me with a weak little shard!” Dr. Flug teased.
She growls and Dr. Flug bounced out of the way and as he looks away the hero lets out a scream as he hears the sound of sharpness puncturing flesh. He spins around on his heel seeing she had accidentally stabbed her self in the stomach with her own ice shard. “Ohh! That works EVERY time! You heroes are SO gullible!” Dr. Flug smiles. She feels blood dripping from the ice. “S-so you gonna k-kill me huh?” Cumulus coughed. “Damn. Here I though I’d die by a successful villain.” She chuckles weakly. “Oh but honey. I am a successful villain. The disappearance of Unit, Mr Frost, Jubilee, oh what’s his name uhh, Storm clock? Yeah that’s it.” Dr. Flug lists. “Pfft. Idiot. Everyone knows it was Black Hat who killed them.” Cumulus scoffs. Dr. Flug stiffens, before walking closer. He put his hand on the ice shard, pushing it inward making her scream. “He. Did. NOT. A good villain does not boast. A good villain. Does not get caught. A good villain. Is not. That fucking. DEMON!!” Dr. Flug roars. He clicks another button on his remote, tossing it in the air. The metal shifts and reforms and by the time it hits Dr. Flug’s palm, it’s already a destabilizer ray.
“Black Hat. Is no. Villain. He is just a cocky. Arrogant. Self absorbed. Fuck.” Flug growls past gritted teeth. Cumulus grins. “Damn. You must really hate him.” She sighs. “Yeah well he pays the money and brings in the heroes like you I get to play with.” Flug sighs, twiddling with the ray in his hand. “So. What are you gonna-” “God damn it. All this Black Hat talk has ruined the mood. You’re not fun anymore.” He pouts. He repositions his body, shooting the hero straight in the head, blood splattering across Dr. Flug’s bag and the ground. He sighs, as the arms around the girl let go and retract into the walls letting the hero’s body fall limp on the floor with a loud thud. Flug shakes his head. “These new toys get worse and worse.” Flug sighs. He digs out a key from his pockets, unlocking a hatch on the wall before dumping the hero’s dead body into the chute to slide out into the garbage. He switched his ray back into the remote, pulling himself out the pit without a care. He showed no pity, no remorse. Like a good villain. He switched out his clothes and bag for a cleaner pair before turning to head back up. As he turns, he stops dead in his tracks, staring at a wide-eyed, trembling, whimpering Dementia. Flug sighs. “How much did you see you little cretin?” He snarls. Dementia’s voice was barely above a whisper. “a-all..” She whispers. Dr. Flug shakes his head, walking up to Dementia. He switches his remote to the ray, the device making an intimidating hum as he slowly held it up under Dementia’s chin, raising her head up making her whimper with fear. “You do not speak. Of what you saw in this room. Black Hat does not know and he never will. Understood.” Dr. Flug growls. “Y-yes.” She whispers. Dr. Flug puts away the ray, patting her head. “Good pet.” He says calmly. As he walks to leave Dementia halts him. “W-wait! I-I just have one question.” She stutters out. Dr. Flug turns around, tilting his head. “why don’t you ever act like this in front of the rest? Wouldn’t black hat.. Y'know. Like it?” She asks. Flug shakes his head.
“If a person has a double life, it is to protect the people in the primary life. People have faces. Different ways to act under different situations. No one is sane when no one is looking, Dementia. Besides. Don’t you think if I acted this way for you all, I would have shot that demon in the head by now?” Dr. Flug replies. “Come now. You have your jobs and I have mine.” He smiles. They get out of the room, and Flug shuts the door against the floor. As soon they get out, they hear black hat aggressively calling out for Flug.
“FLUG!! WHERE THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU!??” he screeches. Flug sighs, looking over at the scarred girl beside him.
“remember. No telling~.” He winks. He takes a deep breathe before running for the door. “C-coming boss! O-oh gosh!!” He calls out, flustered.

Wherein Tim & Roy combine forces to prank a certain Jason Todd...

[Inspired by this post.]

Jason, oddly, is pretty straight-laced. It’s a bizarre little nuance, one that Roy’s obviously known for a while, one that gives Tim an idea. Weirdly, Roy goes along with it. Or maybe not weirdly, seeing as to how he’s the enabler, and now they’re both in so deep there’s no climbing out.

It all starts simply. There’s one moment when Tim and Roy lock eyes across the work table, a moment they both decide to commit because why the hell not.   

“Get me a beer?” Tim asks as Roy is already heading to the kitchen.

“Oak nuggins,” comes the reply, quick and easy, matched by an over the shoulder salute.

Jason snorts. “New term of endearment?”

“Pff,” Tim expertly hides a smile and says, “More like it means yes? Come on, you have to of heard it before.”                        

Roy returns with a beer and gives Tim a quick and knowing look, and they both struggle to hide sly, matching grins.                     

“Can’t say I have,” Jason returns, still fiddling with the parts of his rifle.

This time, Tim almost laughs against the lip of his beer bottle. After all, the seed is planted.

***

”Mama’s got the nasty jam,” Roy moans over the comm one night. “You’re both on your own.”

Tim’s standing next to Jason as Jason prods his earpiece and blinks despondently, as if asking no one in particular, What??

It’s easy enough to play off, though Tim can’t help the humor that bubbles to his throat, that he’s forced to swallow down when he says, ever so seriously, “That’s too bad.” 

And, as expected, Jason turns to stare at him, curiosity tinging his expression.

Tim sighs. “Well, if he’s sick tonight, nothing we can do. Guess we’ll just have to get things done ourselves.”

Jason mouths an oh, like he knew all along what Roy had meant. 

Tim plays it off like he believes him.

And the seed starts to grow; Tim and Roy make up phrases, crank out terms that no one uses as if they’re all the pop culture Jason’s been missing out on because ugh. Social media.

And Jason quietly learns it all.

***

Jason swears he’s not gonna use it. There’s no way he’d get through any day complaining about some nasty jam, and half the time he’s caught wondering how many times Shakespeare’s rolled over in his grave since Tim’s started saying oak nuggins regularly.

But one night, he screws up. 

He slips.

All that self restraint, ashes to the wind as he listens to Damian over the comm, say, “I vote we kill the clown.”

It’s funny enough that Jason replies, “That’s gold hat, cool cat.”

And…silence. 

Then, a staggered, “…what?”

“Wait,” Dick intercepts. “That means the line is bugged, right?”                        

Jason struggles to get a word in, only managing an “Uh,” before he swears he hears Tim smother a laugh before muting his line.                 

Damian’s talking over everyone, exasperated. “That was Cat’s Cradle, Nightwing. But maybe this is an advanced code? To be safe, we should -”         

“Hey, I just meant -” Jason tries.

“Agreed, Robin,” Dick cuts in. “Switching lines, everyone.”                        

The quiet buzz means the channel’s dead, and it takes Jason nearly half a minute to find the new one.                      

Shaking his head, he murmurs, "Hell. This gig’s sure as hell’s gonna slash me hips.”

What? Is this one bugged too?” Dick questions, voice tinged with both confusion and panic.

Tim stutters through another laugh before muting out yet again.
                       
Damian sounds oddly serious when he says, “Hood. What toxin are you on.”

And luckily, Jason doesn’t need to answer because their villain shows up and then they’re busy, and time flies. 

Towards the end they all end up gathered, some bat-family reunion atop a building so dark with factory soot that it blends with the night sky. Roy shows up because he’s around and drapes an arm around Dick’s shoulders.

"Oi,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. “You still gonna dip me in ya Monday milk?”

It’s a common phrase, one Jason’s heard a thousand times; the confirmation of a lunch outing. It conflicts with his plans with Roy the next day, however, and so he says, “Hey. I thought we were gonna dip.”

Around them, again, is complete silence; even Dick’s mouth is peeled apart in silent question, and Damian, bless his young soul, looks struck with absolute horror at whatever implication dippin’ folks in ya monday milk might mean.

“No one in this family will be dipping you in any milk, Harper!” he yells, absolutely stricken.

It’s then that Tim dies, not literally, but figuratively, clinging to a rooftop chute as laughter pours out. He’s forced to tug his mask upwards because he’s crying and he can’t even form words because he has legitimately lost the ability to can.

The jig is up, and Jason only realizes it’s a jig when Roy goes to steady Tim and they do a fucking secret handshake

“Oh my gosh,” Tim finally manages. “That was amazing. Totally worth the wait.”

Roy’s laughing because Tim’s laughing and makes Tim promise to give him a recording of the comm recording.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Jason states, putting two and two together. “How much of this shit is made up?”

It all just makes Tim and Roy laugh harder; they’re howling, and all Dick and Damian can do is glance at each other - Nightwing looking helplessly confused, Damian looking embarrassed to know anyone within a twenty foot radius.

“Are you telling me that I’ve been saying nuns on ripple to girl scouts for nothing? What about yank train??”

Tim falls to his knees and Dick takes a few steps forward, reaching out to cover Damian’s ears. 

Jason stares at Tim and Roy in disbelief. He simply shakes his head.

A month later, he’s out with Dick and Tim, trying to catch a scattering of cartel members fanning out through the neighborhood. Tim says that he’ll take the north side of the alley and asks Jason to take the south.

“Oak nuggins,” Jason replies, completely by accident.

Dick is aghast. “Who’s getting mugged??”

Tim laughs out loud, and Jason has no sympathy when Red Robin misses a step, trips, and falls flat on his face.

Serves him damn right.

__________________________________________________________
[ @tanekore DIP ME IN YA MONDAY MILK]

letslipthehounds  asked:

I've been wondering, in Imperial Problem Child, how does the Skywalker family verse Palpatine confrontation go down? Is it obviously public, with everyone seeing how evil Palps is, or is it behind closed doors and Palpatine had a "heart attack"? (Because a heart stops beating when stabbed by a lightsaber, after all)

It was definitely a private affair.

As private as a Sith, a recovering Sith, a half-trained Jedi, a disillusioned Emperor’s Hand, an angry Princess, a handful of professional assassins, and an angrier Togruta Rogue having a knock-down drag-out fight can be, that is.

The Red Guards are pretty used to hearing screaming coming from the Emperor’s audience chambers, so they never thought to check until it was far too late.

But Palpatine, for all that he is very very strong and is definitely going to gravely injure at least two people, made two very stupid mistakes.

Mistake Number One:
He underestimated Vader’s ability to build a power base in a short amount of time. He thought that Vader would do what he had done before, and had thus taken measures to cut off any attempts to build droid armies, win the loyalties of private agents, or capture strategic fortresses. 
He failed to consider the Rebel Alliance as part of a potential power base. 
Vader has Chancellor Mothma’s somewhat reluctant backing, he’s got the Executor, there’s a small network of friends-of-friends of the Rogues and the Sabers willing to lend a hand. The Rebels have the spies that the Empire wouldn’t expect, people Sidious would find beneath his notice, and they’ve got about fifty retired Vod’e ready to throw down if needs must.

Mistake Number Two:
He decided to pay a visit to one of the ridiculously luxurious skyhooks formerly belonging to the late Prince Xizor (who faced, shall we say, some budget cuts to Black Sun. And some lightsaber cuts. Lots of lightsaber cuts.)
He’s in a giant floating mansion, basically, in Coruscant’s sky.
The Executor, the Liberty, and Home One all had firing solutions plotted very very quickly in case things go sideways.

However: 
Despite some conspicuous evidence to the contrary, Palpatine is actually not a complete birdbrain. He had the Eclipse on standby, just in case Vader tried something. There was a fairly intense naval battle going on while the more Force sensitive members of the conspiracy fought in the skyhook.
(Wedge ended up leading the Rogues from the cockpit of a TIE Advanced, doing significant damage to the Eclipse’s complement of fighters)

Inside the skyhook, there hadn’t really been much thought of taking Palpatine by surprise. By the time they had boots on the deck, he already knew they were coming and in no mood to parley. Leia took six Noghri and Mara Jade to clear out the Red Guards. Lumiya, another Hand, was present and supposed to kill Mara for turning on the Emperor. She managed to kill two Noghri and give Leia a pretty nasty burn on the shoulder, but some clever maneuvering and some liberal application of the Force ends the fight with Lumiya shot full of tranquilizers and dumped in a bacta tank for safekeeping.

Ahsoka hung back when they got to the audience chamber, meant to be kind of a second line of defense. (Dude, you saw the damage she can do to Vader. As long as she’s not caught off guard, she’s probably capable of putting some hits on Sidious). Palpatine didn’t even bother with a “Join the Dark Side” spiel. He decided to just kill Vader, and then he could take all the time he needed to break Skywalker and mold him into the perfect apprentice. 
Except that was a terrible idea. The problem with that was a little fact called “Palpatine you actual piece of moldy toast, that’s the Chosen One and his kids that you’re threatening”. 

Also, Grand Admiral Thrawn just arrived with the Seventh Fleet to make good on a bargain struck with Leia, and the Eclipse has just been blown out of the sky.

In summary:
Vader lost an arm, and his legs aren’t in great shape.
Luke was severely electrocuted and is going to need his prosthetic hand replaced.
Mara was stabbed through the torso, just barely missing most of her organs. (lost a spleen though)
Leia was slightly less severely electrocuted, and the burn on her shoulder was aggravated.
Ahsoka got a concussion.
but
Palpatine got:
One arm lopped off
One hand chopped into pieces
Multiple stab wounds
Electrocuted with a frayed wire (Mara’s idea. Leia thought it was splendidly ironic)
Both legs stabbed through
Beheaded
And thrown down a garbage chute…one that goes out into the upper atmosphere

Leia took one of the Red Guards’ cloaks and draped it over Vader’s right side to hide his missing arm when he went to inform the other Imperials of the Emperor’s sudden passing. Surprisingly, the splash of color gave him an intimidatingly regal look. Leia will probably insist on variations of that look later. Fashion is…really not one of his concerns. 
But he’ll do it, for her.

“I’m not taking a bullet for you,” Keith started in an aggravated tone, “If I have time to jump in front of you, then your sorry ass has enough time to move out of the way.”
Lance stared at him in shock, his mouth opening and closing to retort. Keith ignored his indignant look and continued blocking the lasers used for training with his shield. Lance felt his face go red in anger. The absolute nerve on this boy. How dare he insinuate that he wouldn’t defend his own teammate? It was an outrageous claim, but it frustrated him nonetheless.
“That’s bullshit. Dios mío, Keith. I can’t believe-” Lance was cut short with a yelp of surprise when he felt a slight burn in his stomach. He felt the familiar sensation of dropping down the dark chute out of the training room, and realized Keith was being serious.

He wouldn’t take a bullet for him, just as he had not in the training room.

He felt tears spring to his eyes, and an ache in his chest that he couldn’t pinpoint. He sat outside the training room with a dark look upon his face. He was unable to look Keith in the eye when his body was the next to fall through the chute, and landed next to him. He idly wondered if Keith had jumped in front of one of them to save them, and maybe it was Lance himself that was the problem.

If it had been Pidge, Hunk, or Shiro, he would’ve known it was a joke. He would’ve been used to the endless teasing, and probably would’ve laughed. He would’ve managed to create a witty comeback and probably would’ve forgotten about the moment entirely.
But it was Keith.
The two of them had been arguing nearly the entirety of the time they’d known each other. And maybe, maybe Lance thought they were getting closer. Maybe he’d thought they were finally working well together as a team. Maybe he’d started to notice his sly smiles, and the way his laugh started deep in his stomach and bubbled out of his throat in the most obnoxious, yet endearing, way. So, maybe he found Keith physically attractive. But Keith’s words just proved that he wouldn’t be emotionally capable of sustaining a relationship with him. And he’s not sure he’d want to, anyway.

The rest of the team made it out of the training room unscathed. Shiro sent a filthy glare in their general direction, and motioned for them to follow him. He told the rest of the team to go ahead to dinner, and thanked them for their hard work.

“Keith,” Shiro began, “I’m not sure what you said, but it obviously upset Lance.”
Keith immediately stiffened and looked at the ground, a deep blush invading his features.
“Lance,” Shiro continued in the same scolding tone, “You have to understand that Keith says things without thinking. A habit you both share.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before muttering, “Go eat dinner. You can’t allow your petty rivalry to get in the way of training or, more importantly, during a battle.”
With that, he stalked off. Keith looked up, his violet eyes meeting Lance’s briefly, before looking at the ground again. His lips parted and he took a breath, as if he were going to speak, but then he walked in the opposite direction of Shiro, toward his room.
The embarrassment and sadness Lance had been feeling moment’s before, blew up into red-hot anger. He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He composed himself before spinning on his heel, and heading to the dining hall.

By the time Lance had finally fallen asleep, Keith was waking up. It was way too late to be going to sleep, and way too early to be getting up, but despite this, Keith cautiously walked out of his room and made his way down the hall. Maybe exercise would help clear his head. He’d been mentally cursing himself for his harsh words since they happened. He’d never seen that flash of hurt across Lance’s face before, and he couldn’t believe he had been the cause of it. The last time he’d seen Lance this upset was an accident. Lance had been toying with a projection of Earth in the control room. Keith had been ready, defenses up, to make a remark. But as he stepped closer, he had seen the fresh, hot tears slipping down his face. That had been the first time they’d hugged, or really talked to each other for that matter. And Keith guessed it was going to be the last time as well.
He was grabbing his gear for training when the alarm blared through the ship. He watched as the half-asleep paladins stumbled through the process of slipping on their suits and grabbing their gear. He didn’t miss the extra bags under Lance’s eyes or his sluggish walk. Shiro gave Keith a quizzical look when he saw he was already prepared, and completely awake, but Keith just shook his head.

The heat of battle had always been exciting for Keith. He loved the adrenaline, the sweat, the electric feeling that rushes through your veins. He smirked as his blade easily cut into yet another alien hybrid. It wasn’t long before the army they’d been warring against had dwindled down to what Keith assumed was ten or so.
Then he spotted it.
A lone alien sported the corner of a strange looking building, the aim of his gun pointed directly at Lance.
“LANCE!” he screamed. Panic overtook him and he surged forward. He rammed right into Lance, and immediately felt the stinging sensation of something going through his back. He watched in awe as the beam of light protruding from his stomach disappeared. He fell to his knees and grit his teeth. He was not going to cry.
But it hurt.
It hurt, real bad.
The voices swarming around him dimmed out. It was as if he was sinking underwater, their voices becoming warbled, distant. His body felt as though it were liquifying. He picked out Lance’s voice among the paladins. He was cursing colorfully, creating a long string of swear words. “You said you wouldn’t do this,” was the last thing he heard before the world faded to darkness.

Imagine escaping Agent Rhodes with Jack

Originally posted by psychodelicznaalex

“Hurry up Jack,” you yelled up the stairs as you pulled on your flats, bracing yourself on the door as you hop a little to get them on. “Henley said be there by 7 and its already 6:50.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming” Jack says, breathing heavily as he dashes down the stairs. “We good to go?” You nod and you both walk out of the house, Jack locking the door after you’ve stepped out.

“6:55,” you warned as Jack drove wildly through a yellow light.

“Danny’s gonna have my ass for this,” Jack moans, barely slowing down for the stop sign.

You shake your head. “Did you bring match sticks for the fire?”

“Yeah” Jack says, leaning over the steering wheel and staring intently at the road.

“Are the other three going to be there?” you ask, clutching your seat belt as Jack swerves through two lanes, cutting off a red car.

Jack shakes his head, pulling to a stop in from of the building. “They’re probably long gone by now.”

“Good,” you say as you jump out of the car and follow Jack inside and up the stairs.

Jack smiles, unlocking the door and letting you in first before closing it quietly behind you. “You love this,” he states, walking to the middle room and gathering a handful of papers, he starts tossing them into the fire, not waiting to the see the paper get enveloped in flames.

Smiling to yourself, you come to stand next to him, helping him toss paper into the fire. Just as you threw a string bound stack into the flames, the door slams open a man in a suit followed closely by Rhodes.

Jack smiles wickedly before charging the suited man, driving him into the kitchen. Once they’re out of sight, you turn to Rhodes. He’s standing a few feet in front of you, his gun leveled at your chest.

“Can’t shoot me?” you taunted, backing up until your back hits a table. Rhodes follows, making a face as you grope the table behind you, smiling when you find what you want.

“You sure as hell can’t outrun a gun, no mater what magic you use,” he spits, saying magic as if it were an insult.

You pretend to think as he takes a step closer. “Eh, I think I can,” you say, snapping you fingers to fan out the cards in them.

Rhodes laughs, taking another step forward. “With cards?” he says, feeling confident against the rectangles of plastic in your hands. “I think not.”

You smirk, enjoying his oblivion. “Try me.” You launch a card as his face, smiling satisfactorily as the sharp sound of paper slicing skin is heard, and the angle of the gun drops a few inches. From the kitchen, you hear the sound of whirring and then shredding of something thick.

“Looks like your buddy needs some help,” Jack taunts, walking out of the kitchen. Rhodes growls before running at you, and you duck out of the way as he crashes into the table.

Running backwards, you toss another card, eliciting another cry from Rhodes.

You have three cards left and Jack, forgotten by Rhodes, continues to burn paper.

As Jack finishes, tucking a stapled packet into his jacket, you fling two cards at Rhodes, making him stop because of his injury and its closeness to his eye. Grinning you turn to the door and run after Jack only stopping at the doorway to toss you last card at the man in the sink, causing his jacket to fall in further.

“We did good,” Jack pants as he runs down the stairs. You grin, but it fades away when you see a team of men running up the stairs with guns.

“This way,” you say, thinking quickly and jumping into the trash chute. Jack follows, the sound of both you shoes rubbing against the metal walls resounding in you ears even after you’ve fallen out of the chute.

Walking out of the trash room, you and Jack act calm and natural, trying not to draw any attention to yourselves.

“That was pretty kick-ass,” Jack compliments as you two casually walk past a car with an agent inside. Being closer to the car, you shield your face from her by turning your face to Jack.

“Kick-ass? I threw cards at him Jack,” you say, mildly flattered.

Jack shakes his head as you turn the corner, and get into the black car sitting outside. When Jack reverses and pulls out around the corner, you can see Agent Rhodes running out of the building and the other blonde Agent stepping out of the car to greet him.

“You hurt him enough so that we could get out.” He laughs. “I wonder who taught you that trick.”

You laugh along with him, able to relax as he drives the speed limit and stops fully at all the stop signs. “Yeah, I wonder who, Jack.”

So this is an imagine for my absolute favorite movie, Now You See Me (you should watch it if you haven’t already!) Jack is my total favorite, so i thought i’d do a Jack imagine :) also, this is a scene from the movie, just changed a bit to fit.

tell me how you liked it, your feedback makes me a better writer!

Waiting (Soulmate AU)

Summary: Steve Rogers Soulmate fic where the name of your soulmate is written on your forearm.

Word Count: 2,116

Warnings: None.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy! @justanotherdeangirl25!



Steve Rogers.

Steve Rogers.

Steve Rogers.

Otherwise known as Captain America. Also known as Peggy Carter’s first love. Peggy Carter. Grandma. Her soulmate is not Steve Rogers. Her soulmate is grandpa. Their names are written on each other’s skin. The name doesn’t become visible until the soulmates meet. Before then, only the individual knows the name on their arm. And it’s a secret. It’s supposed to be a secret, not tell anyone because then fate can’t play a part in how the soulmates come together. And that’s the order of things.

But… But Steve Rogers, according to grandma Peggy, has been dead for decades already. There’s always a fondness in her eyes when she speaks of him. He is handsome, from the pictures that are on her photo albums. His best friend’s name was Bucky Barnes. They were inseparable. Some even speculated they were soulmates, but their names never appeared on each other’s skin.

Keep reading

The Quest for the Lost Treasure Part 4

Pairing: Adventurer!Jason Todd x Adventurer!Reader

Word Count: 2759

Summary: In university, you discover that an ancient treasure supposed to have been “found” was actually still lost. Determined to be the one to find it, you set off on a journey to find it, and run into Jason Todd and his adventurer posse. With Jason’s expertise of the land, and your natural talent for adventuring, you two are the perfect mix. Will you find the treasure smoothly? Or will you fail and lose a friendship?

Warnings: foul language, sexual innuendos, Jason being an ass (again)

A/N I think this chapter is much better than the last one, tbh but hey that’s just me. Also THANK YOU GUYS AGAIN FOR 100 FOLLOWERS! My ask box is always open to request an imagine, blurb, headcanon and/or ship. Alright, enjoy!

Parts: 1  |  2  |  3  |


Reader POV

My eyes flit across the pages of my book as we begin flying over the Amazon Rainforest (in Colombia).

“What are you reading?” Tim asks me. I look at him and back at my book.

The Alchemist. A friend recommended it.” I tell him.

“I’ve heard it’s a good book,” Tim comments.

“So far it’s quite interesting, but it sucks that it’s so short,” I refer to the book’s small size.

“If you guys could talk about book porn some other time, that would be great. Not everyone is a nerd like you two,” Jason says. I roll my eyes and look back at Tim, who mouths “Sorry” to me. However before I can say it’s okay, the plane violently shakes.

“What the hell?!” I shut my book. “Jason, was that turbulence?”

“Um, no. I don’t wanna scare you or anything but I think we’re being shot at,” Jason says as he begins flipping switches while simultaneously steering the plane.

“What?!” I shout. Jason’s suspicions are confirmed when I hear gunshots and the sound of more planes whizzing past us. I have to wake up Damian (he fell asleep about an hour ago).

“Damian! Damian wake up!” I shake him lightly.

“Huh? What? What’s going on?” He wakes up suddenly.

“Well, to put it bluntly, we’re being shot at by other planes,” Tim tells him.

“Woah, really? Awesome!” Damian cheers.

“No! Not awesome! I don’t wanna die!” I begin freaking out.

“And you’re not, these assholes have no idea who they’re messing with. Dick, ready the wing-guns,” Jason grips the wheel tightly.

“Wing-guns ready,” Dick confirms.

“You have guns too?!” I screech.

“Yeah now shut up!” Jason snaps. “Ready…..fire!”

And the guns that were (apparently) on the wings begin shooting at the enemy planes.

“HOLY SHIT!” I yell. Damian is laughing almost maniacally and Tim is trying to calm him down. I look around to see if there’s anything I can do, but all I can do is simply grab my backpack and keep my duffel bag close to me in case I have to jump out of this flying tin can.

“You know what? Fuck off! Shoot me down, I dare you!” Jason suddenly yells.

“Who are you talking to, Todd?!” Damian asks.

“One of the pilots said he was going to shoot us down if we didn’t land in the next 5 minutes. And, well, you heard how I responded.” Jason explains.

“Why would you do that?! You said we weren’t gonna die!” Tim says.

“Yeah Jase, why would you lie like that?” Dick asks as he shoots using the right wing gun.

“I didn’t intentionally lie! Just focus on shooting those bastards down!” Jason yells.

“Maya was right, I probably shouldn’t have come on this trip,” I grab my duffel bag. “Tim do we have any parachutes?”

“Four, right here,” he says as he pulls parachute packs out from the seats.

“But there’s five of us,” I state the obvious.

“If necessary, you can take Damian,” Tim tells me.

“No! I’m getting my own chute! Y/N can go with Jason since they’re practically together,” Damian argues. I scrunch my nose in disgust. Me? And him? No way, José.

“We are not together, and I’m getting the chute, I’m older, I have seniority,” I say.

“Why are you already talking about chutes? We’re not gonna need em since Dickie bird and I are shooting up these assfaces,” I can see Jason grin from where I’m sitting.

“Ya know, safety precautions, in case you happen to fuck up and let someone shoot us up,” I say sarcastically.

“Hey, you could be more grateful, we’re taking you to Colombia!” Jason shouts.

“I won’t be in Colombia if we die!” I shout back. “And what is it with you demanding to be thanked?! Who does that?!”

“I work my ass off to get this team to where they need, I deserve a thank you for everything I do!” He responds.

“In case you haven’t noticed we’re having an existential crisis right now! You can argue later!” Dick interrupts. “Shit! I’m out of bullets!” He says a few seconds later.

“Me too! Fuck me!” Jason strikes the plane steering wheel.

“I’m sure Y/N would like to take you up on that offer,” Damian smirks. I glare at him and Jason goes silent. A few seconds later he speaks again.

“Hey man, can you just forget what I said and did a few minutes earlier? I’d rather not die, it’s kinda exhausting,” he says into the mic.

“You really think they’re just gonna stop shooting at us?!” Dick exclaims.

“It was worth a shot, pun not intended,” Jason shrugs. I sigh exasperatedly.

I look out the small window and see our right wing being shot multiple times.

“Right wing is shot!” I shout.

“Mayday! Mayday!” Damian yelps.

“Tim! Parachutes!” I gesture to the chutes.

“On it!” He starts handing out chutes and giving everyone their belongings.

“Guys stop freaking out, if Y/N gets out there and tapes the wing back together, we’ll be fine!” Jason turns to me.

“Jason! The wing IS ON FIRE!” I point out the window.

“You can use the fire extinguisher,” Jason pulls out a fire extinguisher from his seat.

“No!” I yell.

“Fine! Let Jason go down in flames then!” Jason begins unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Of course you name the plane after yourself. Of course,” I shake my head. “Alright Damian. Are you ready?”

“No not really but I don’t have a choice so…” he shrugs in response. He puts his backpack on and hugs my stomach area.

“10,000 feet, 9,000 feet, 8,000 feet,” Dick counts.

“GRAYSON WE DON’T HAVE TIME TO COUNT THE FEET WE JUST GOTTA GO!” Jason kicks open his door. Tim does the same with our door and jumps out.

“See you guys down there! Geronimooooo!” he shouts.

“Later!” I say and jump out of the plane. I see Tim open his parachute and hear whoops from Jason and Dick from above me.

I estimate where Tim opened his parachute and do the same.

“Damian, you can open your eyes now. And remove your face from my chest,” I look down at Damian, who’s tightly hugging me.

“But they’re so soft, like pillows,” he muffles into my chest. I look up in annoyance. Boys.

I follow Tim’s path of travel and use the parachute toggles to go in the same direction.

When Damian and I land, he lets go and falls on the ground. The parachute falls on my head shortly after; I wrestle around to get it off but I get nowhere.

“DAMIAAAAAAN!” I shout.

“Yeah?!” He shouts back.

“I need help! Get this parachute off of me!” I say. After approximately 8 minutes, I finally get the parachute off with Damian’s help.

“Hey guys! Woah what happened?” Tim comes running up from some trees.

“I got assaulted by my parachute, but Damian helped me out,” I brush off my shorts.

“Good to know,” Tim nods his head and walks over to me and helps me pack the parachute.

“Hey is Y/N okay?!” I hear Jason yell and running footsteps get closer to Damian, Tim and I. He and Dick come running from a clearing of rainforest trees over to us.

“Y/N is just fine, Todd,” Damian says.

“I was just making sure,” Jason replies back.

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that,” Damian mumbles.

“I’m okay, relax,” I tell him. Suddenly we hear an explosion from not too far off, which makes us all jump.

“Poor Jason. I’m sorry buddy, I didn’t want you to get hurt,” Jason turns to the general direction of the explosion.

“If you’re done talking to your dead plane, we need to figure out where we are and where to go,” I pat Jason on his arm. He looks down at me with furrowed brows.

“What?” I ask.

“You touched my arm,” he states the obvious.

“Yeah. I don’t have cooties, calm down,” I tell him. He rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“Whatever. Tim, get out your map so we can figure out our path of travel,” Jason walks over to Tim, who’s getting a map out of his bag.

“Here,” Tim gives Jason the map. Jason takes his pack off and sits down.

Gather ‘round, Argonauts, here’s what’s gonna happen…


Jason POV

I don’t know what I’ve been told!” Damian sing-yells.

Jason’s ‘tude is made of mold!” Y/N sing-yells back. We have been walking in this damned rainforest for about 4 hours and I’m getting more tired as each minute passes. At this point I have absolutely no patience for this.

I stop dead in my tracks and whip around to face Y/N, who stops suddenly too.

“It’s actually, Jason Todd is brave and bold or Jason Todd is made of gold. Get your facts straight,” I snap.

“Well you just proved my point, so I do have my facts straight,” she says and walks around me, continuing on our trek.

“Dude, she just roasted you,” Damian passes me as well.

“Nice,” Tim follows soon after. As Dick approaches me, I fall into step with him.

“She is so annoying, why did I let you convince me to take her?” I growl at him.

“She’s not annoying, Jase, you’re just easily agitated. It’s a weakness of yours. You need to keep your cool,” Dick says to me.

“She is! Ever since we met her, it’s like she lives to make me angry,” I cross my arms.

“Maybe she likes you,” Dick suggests. I scoff at the idea.

“No, that’s not possible. If she liked me, she’d be all over me and flirty and shit,” I say.

“You obviously don’t know Y/N very well, then. I knew from the moment I saw her that she’s not your typical woman. She’s…determined and headstrong. She’s sarcastic and sassy. A girl like that isn’t gonna express her feelings the way you think.” Dick tells me. He does have a point. I actually haven’t carried a civilized conversation with Y/N. We’ve only ever…argued. I don’t know a thing about her…except that she likes books and music.

“You may have a point, but I still don’t like her.” I say.

“You like her. You just don’t like that she can see right through you,” Dick says, “She’s the first girl to do that and you’re uncomfortable with it. Meanwhile, I think it’s hilarious.” I stop walking and think about what Dick says as he keeps walking. 

Damn you, Grayson, with your love knowledge.


“Alright guys the sun is setting. I suggest we set up camp soon,” I tell my team. After a few more minutes, we come across a small clearing, but it’s big enough for us to set up some tents and a bonfire.

“This where we’re gonna stay. Start setting up tents,” I say as I set down my stuff.

“I call bunking with Y/N!” Damian shouts. She looks at him in confusion. We then look at each other with baffled expressions.

“I didn’t bring a pillow, and they’re soft,” Damian continues. My jaw drops as I realize what he’s talking about. Y/N rolls her eyes and keeps taking out her tent.

“Nice try, Damian, but I’m gonna be bunking with me, myself and I,” She responds as she squats down to the ground.

Damn you, Y/N.

“But–” Damian starts.

“No, buts. I need my privacy,” she cuts him off.

“Damn it!” he yells. What a twerp.

“You can bunk with me, Damian,” Dick says.

“Fine. Only because I don’t wanna be in the same tent as Todd and Nerd Fest over there,” he gestures to Tim and I.

“Excuse me, but ‘Nerd Fest’ already has his tent set up,” Tim stands proudly next to his perfectly set up tent.

“So do I,” Y/N stands up. I look at my tent which is still in pieces.

“How did you guys get done so fast?!” I say.

“Talent.”

“Skill.”

I roll my eyes and go back to setting up my tent. When we’re done, I take Dick and Tim with me to get some wood for the fire and when we come back, Y/N and Damian are nowhere to be found.

“Guys?” I call out. Nothing. Then I hear laughing and giggling from the forest area across from us. Damian and Y/N come out of the brush, laughing without a care in the world.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask, they both stop their laughing and look up at me.

“Nothing, we just went to go look around the area to see if there are any nearby resources,” Y/N says as she stifles giggles.

“Yep,” Damian agrees. I raise an eyebrow at her and she semi-rolls her eyes.

“We found monkeys doing the nasty,” she explains. “I covered his eyes but he’d already seen the beginning.”

I rub my temples and sigh.

“Okay fine. Listen, we have to eat. The sun is going down, and I’d like to see if insects crawl in my food or not so I don’t accidentally eat a spider or something,” I say.

“Sounds good. Let’s get the bonfire set up and eat, I’m hungry,” Y/N says and moves past me over to Dick and Tim. She quickly sets up the bonfire and helps make the food we brought, which includes baked beans and chicken soup.

We all sit on logs as we sip the soup in silence. Y/N finishes first and gets up from her log and rinses out the thermos cup with a little bit of water.

“I’m going to bed. Good night,” she crawls into her tent and zips it up.

“Since I’m not bunking with Y/N, Todd, why don’t you?” Damian asks me. I look up at him and shoot him a small glare as I eat my soup.

“I don’t really like her,” I mutter.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you,” Damian says loudly. Dick and Tim shush him but I know he heard me clear as day.

“Nothing. I’m done too, see you guys tomorrow morning.” I finish my soup and rinse out the cup as well. I head over to my tent, which is the furthest from Y/N’s and I go inside. I frustratedly take off my chest harness and shirt, then my pants. I get in my sleeping bag and fluff the attached pillow.

I close my eyes and try to fall asleep for about an hour, but I can’t, so I sit up and the first thing I see is a green glow from outside. I open my tent zipper a bit and see a dim-ish light coming from Y/N’s tent. Her figure is sitting down and looking at something.

What could she possibly be doing this late at night?


Reader POV

“If we go up the river, and then…cross it over here….through this gorge…and then…over here…we should be…in the fifty mile radius…of the Lost City, here,” I look at one of Tim’s maps. I flip open the book of my research and go to the maps I printed out so I can draw the path I made on my own map.

However, when I get to it, I begin to notice something.

The maps are different.

“What…?” I breathe. I put the printed map next to Tim’s and compare. My map shows landmarks that aren’t even on Tim’s map. It’s old, apparently it was from sometime in the BC era, and someone had recovered it and posted a picture of it on the Wikipedia page. It’s the closest connection I found to the ancient civilization that used to live in The Lost City.

“Wait what does this say?” I ask myself as I bring the Tim’s map closer to the light. A word is scrawled across the area next to Colombia but I can’t read it. I still don’t know what it says.

I then look back at my map. Something’s weird about this. And then I notice.

“No…no…no. No no no. This isn’t right. That’s supposed to be right there…but it’s not. So where is it?” I fumble between the maps. I put Tim’s translucent map on mine and hold them up so the light from the lantern shines through.

I shift the maps so the Colombias are right on top of each other. Then I see it.

Oh. My. God.


TAGGING:

@redhoodshood @crazyfangirl1810 @its-scarlet-witch-bitch @carryonmy-assbutt @4evahevah@roxalienqueenx @miraisnotavailable @illeatyoursoulwithmustard

(tags are still open)

4

The Ghost at The Waverly Hills Sanitarium, Kentucky.


Coughing up blood, over crowded, understaffed, bizarre unethical twisted treatments, “Welcome to Waverly Hills Sanatorium” – a medical facility that was once dedicated to treat patients suffering from Tuberculosis, long before the modern cure was discovered. Without the antibiotics, the hospital provided the only known cure at that time – fresh air and sunshine, and thus the patients spent the majority of their time in the solarium-like porch ways. There were many other unethical ways that were used to treat patients which were downright dangerous and only 5% patients survived the treatment. It is believed that as many as 8000 patient dead bodies were carelessly thrown down a chute and then taken out of the building through an underground tunnel. This method of disposing the bodies was kept confidential by doctor’s orders who wanted patients to be unaware of the quantity of dead bodies. But with the discovery of the antibiotic, that could successfully treat and cure tuberculosis, the sanatorium was closed down. Many believe that the spirits of the patients still roam about the hospital in search of answers. The most famous being of a nurse named Mary Lee who happen to contract the disease. But the story takes a horrific twist when she was found hanging from a light apparatus in Room 502. Some believe she took her life after she found out that she was was pregnant with the child from one of the doctors and unmarried. Tragically her body lay undiscovered for a long time. The picture above is of the ghostly figure captured on camera, who is believed to be of Mary Lee….forever roaming the corridors of the hospital groaning in pain.

SportaRobbie - Foiled Again

Another request, this time from a lovely person from Archive of Our Own


Robbie looked in his mirror, perfecting the fake mustache he had just crafted, making sure it was placed just right. Once he was satisfied, he took a step back, smoothing the wrinkles in the collared shirt, and tightening the obnoxiously bright suspenders holding them up on his shoulders. After orientating his hat just right on his head, he stood straight. “Perfect,” he snickered.
He began the climb up his ladder, emerging from the chute and peeking out from behind the billboard. He spotted the children running around, playing an all-against-one game of soccer with Sportacus guarding the goal. He snickered as he sauntered up to them, slipping into character. He opened his mouth once he was within earshot, when Stephanie spotted him. “Hey guys, it’s Robbie!” she exclaimed, pointing. He shot up straight. Everyone else stopped. It took them a moment for all of them to turn around. “Nice outfit, Robbie!” Ziggy grinned. “I want it,” Stingy muttered. “I’m not-!” Before Robbie could say another word, he felt a sharp pain above his lip. He somehow hadn’t seen Trixie come up to him and rip his mustache off his face. “Ow!” he shrieked, holding his stinging lip. The pain caused his eyes to water. “Why you-!” Trixie put the mustache on her own face. “Hey guys, check it out!” she laughed, turning and returning to the others, who laughed along with them. “Wanna join our game, Robbie?” Stephanie offered when she saw he was not amused. Robbie stood in disbelief. “No, I don’t want to play your stupid game!” he yelled, throwing up his arms in frustration. He turned and stomped off, grumbling under his breath. Sportacus furrowed his brow, then turned to Stingy with a smile. “Hold the goal for a second, okay? I’ll be right back, guys!” he said as he jogged after Robbie. They shrugged and returned to their game.
It didn’t take long for him to catch up with Robbie. He was still rubbing his upper lip. “Hi Robbie,” he beamed. Robbie leered at him, refusing to turn his head. He simply crossed his arms in response. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know it was you until the mustache came off.” Robbie looked at Sportacus with obvious doubt. The red skin under his nose looked like a new mustache. Sportacus pressed his lips together to suppress a laugh. “Well… I still like your outfit. Your costumes are always cool.” “You really think so?” Robbie asked suddenly. Sportacus turned to look at him in surprise, half because Robbie was finally talking, and half because he hadn’t realized he’d admitted to enjoying his costumes. “Well… yeah! They’re always creative… even when they’re inspired by someone you already know,” he chuckled. Robbie tried not to smile.
“How did that go again?” Sportacus mused. Before Robbie realized what was happening, Sportacus was grabbing onto him, recreating the ballroom dance they’d done when he’d disguised as Sportacus himself. “Stop!” Robbie suddenly shouted, and Sportacus froze immediately, looking up at the taller man, though still in position. Robbie burst out laughing, spreading it to Sportacus as well. “Alright, alright, Sporta.. ” he tried to think of something to add to his name. “Sportadork. You got me.” Sportacus only chuckled. “What else am I here for?” he asked, holding his arms out. Robbie shook his head, pulling Sportacus’ hat down over his eyes. “To drive me crazy,” Robbie replied. Sportacus attempted to push it back up, but his goggles lodged it in a way that only one eye could peek through. Robbie smiled down at him, walking past him. “That’s right!” Sportacus grinned, letting his hat fall over his face again as he blindly ran after Robbie with his arms open to hug him from behind. He collided with him roughly, the sheer weight of him nearly causing them both to topple forward. Sportacus pressed his cheek against Robbie’s shoulder blade. “I’m blind because of you now. Be my eyes. Take me to the nearest apple tree!” They walked with the same foot forward, much like a penguin. Robbie held onto Sportacus’ arms wrapped around him as they walked. “To the closest candy shop? You got it.”


If you’d like to request a writing or a drawing, please message me !

Tips on Surviving (And Making the Most) of Your 1st Internship

As someone who just finished their first internship in a PsyD program, I feel as though I have some tips I can pass along to other people. I interned in a psychiatric hospital, working on the Partial Hospital unit with adults who suffer with major mental illness. Prior to this, I never had any clinical experience so I had a lot of anxiety but I managed to make it through! So to all my workaholics and study warriors out there: here are my internship tips for you: 

1) Plan Ahead: 

Here’s your opportunity to do some research on where you’ll be placed and get a better idea of what you’ll be doing and the environment you’ll be in. You can also use the time leading up to your start date to get your schedule situation, figure out your transportation and commuting times, and get the contact information of the important people you’ll be interning for/with. 

2) What to bring in general. This will vary depending on the type of internship you have, but here are the things I typically found myself bringing:

  • notebook
  • planner 
  • pen/pencils/highlighters
  • gum 
  • food: lunch, snacks, and drinks (usually water and coffee) 
  • travel sized deodorant, body spray, hairbrush 
  • headphones 
  • laptop (I used it for some things I did with my clients) 

3) 1st Day Guide

  • It’s better to overdress than underdress on your first day. You’ll most likely have a better idea of the wardrobe prior to the first day, but word of thumb is to err on the side of caution. An interviewer once told me that I was the best dressed interviewee she had and that made a huge impression. So dress dapper, my darlings! 
  • Arrive early. I mostly do this because I get nervous driving to new places but it’s a good idea in general. Punctuality is very important in the professional world but you can also use the extra time to prepare, give yourself a pep talk, and get yourself excited for the new experience. 
  • Ignore your phone. Unless you use it for your work, you shouldn’t have it out. It comes off as unprofessional and people tend to see you as distracted and unenthused, especially with the negative attitudes towards younger generations and technology. 
  • Meet and introduce yourself to as many people as you can. You will prioritize and learn who the important ones are but its still good to know have some connections and make people remember who you are; you never know when it will come in handy. 
  • Ask questions. There really is no such thing as a stupid question. An internship is a stepping stone to a job and a career. It is not only your right, but your responsibility to obtain as much information as possible. Not only does asking questions show that your are enthused, committed, and present, but being inquisitive early on is sure to lower the likelihood of making mistakes in the future. But remember, mistakes are inevitable and we often end up learning the most from them. 
  • Plan to stay later than expected. I’m not saying this to scare you into thinking you’ll be a slave to your internship, but you shouldn’t scurry out as soon as that clock hits 5pm. Get a lay of the land, solidify your schedule, and use your time wisely. 

4) Tips for making the most of your experience 

  • Get into the rhythm. Don’t expect to be flying solo by day 2. It’s good to be proactive and initiate, but you also want to make sure you’re checking in with yourself and making sure you’re going at the pace that will give you what you need. At some point, you should be taking risks but no one expects you to jump headfirst off the cliff without a chute right out of the gate. 
  • Keep track of any assignments, projects, tasks, etc. Planning when you can get your work done will be incredibly helpful and important, especially if you have an internship that is very busy and time demanding. 
  • Inject yourself into the environment. If there are meetings you would like to attend, ask. If there’s a project you want to be a part of, advocate for yourself to be on it. I ended up taking a CE webinar with one of my supervisors and sat in on community therapeutic meetings each morning. My attendance was not expected and most of the staff don’t enjoy going to them, but by the end of the year i was leading the meeting and it helped not only my clinical skills but my confidence as well. So, put yourself out there and show that you came to do more than just the bare minimum. 
  • Take advantage of having supervisors. They’re professionals who have experience and you’re getting free advice, guidance, and consultation. You may not always have this opportunity in the future so you should utilize it while you can. I talked with my supervisors about a plethora of things from tips on starting an individual therapy session, writing up a psychosocial assessment, boundary issues with clients, to sometimes just talking about life. 
  • Take a few minutes to yourself each day if you can. Internships can be overwhelming and taxing, especially if you’re not getting paid for them. Even if you step outside for a few minutes, go for a walk, run out to get some coffee, or have a relaxed conversation with another intern or coworker. 
  • Keep your future and goals in mind. Even if this internship isn’t your dream job or its entirely dreadful, everything can be a learning experience. Find a way to make it relevant and interesting to you, if possible. 
  • Don’t slack off on your professionalism. Even if you have a relaxed relationship or environment at your internship, remember that you’re not officially employed and are still making your way into the field. There’s no problem with joking around and having a jovial relationship with your colleagues but don’t forget that you are there to work and make an impression. 
  • Similar to asking questions to ease concerns or gain clarification, request feedback. You’re at an internship to learn the tricks of the trade and add some tools to your professional toolbox. It shows commitment and the desire for improvement. (just try not to go too overboard and come off as a tad overwhelming). 
  • Say “Thank you.” You can/should do this throughout you internship, but its very important to do so as your internship is coming to a close and at the very end. Your supervisors and colleagues put in time and effort to help you in you next step towards a career. So that being said, show your appreciation. Have a heartfelt goodbye, write your supervisor a letter, get them a card and gift card, send a final email. Whatever is appropriate for you and your site, do it. Gratitude and connections go a long way! 

Be excited! Be enthusiastic! But your heart and soul into it! And be gentle with yourself. You’re always a beginner at some point. 

I hope this helps you all and good luck! 

Han Solo is an unmitigated badass, he always shoots first and almost never misses. He makes a quip and shoots Greedo under the table in the Mos Eisley Cantina. He charges fleeing stormtroopers in the Death Star. He is even a badass when the cards were stacked against him. He thinks he is going to eat a nice dinner with an old friend. The doors open and the instant he sees Vader he draws his blaster and fires a few shots before Vader takes it from him. Only a few people in the galaxy would have survived Han’s badassitude, and Han was the one caught off guard.

Han is the “I don’t care” type of neutral. Before he met Luke and Leia, he didn’t believe in much. He doesn’t care about fighting the Empire and he only breaks the law when it makes him money. He is willing to kill, but only those who threaten him, it doesn’t take much. In A New Hope Luke and Leia wear white, symbolizing they are clearly good characters. Vader’s suit is black because he is evil. Han wears black and white illustrating his ambiguous nature.

The quote shows Han is only out for himself. In the scene his personality is clashing with Leia’s natural leadership but he still follows Leia down the garbage chute and out to the hangar. A chaotic character would not have followed. Han knows a good plan when he hears one and is willing to follow good leadership. In The Empire Strikes Back and The Return of the Jedi he becomes Captain Solo and migrates up to Neutral Good.

Ironman Timberman 70.3 Race Recap!

Ironman Timberman was my 4th attempt at the 70.3 triathlon distance (2nd this year, and 1st legit “half-Ironman”), which consisted of a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike ride, and a 13.1 mile run. This race was a last minute decision, due to my learning experience at Ironman Lake Placid, and was spearheaded with mixed feelings. After Lake Placid I spent a few weeks doing absolutely nothing that had to do with fitness, due to my 30th birthday and wanting a mental break from training, but ultimately decided that I couldn’t let my fitness go to waste. Knowing that the race would be my last triathlon of the year meant that I could leave it all out on the course, and that I did!

(Fair warning, and it’s like my 3rd time mentioning this, make sure you have a solid 5-10 minutes to spare. This post is LONG!!)


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Royalty (Prologue)

Summary: Three Princes fight for the throne, the ruler of all things Royalty. You are just caught in the middle of it. 

WARNINGS: BLOOD, WEIRDNESS, EVENTUAL STUFFS, LABORATORY CRAP, GENETIC MUTATIONY THINGS


Parts: One


“Y/N!” The scream ripped through both the air and the complex inner workings of your thoughts; Jungkook was always horrible at controlling your shared connection when he was in a panic. “Y/N! Take my hand.” His eyes were wild, sliding back and forth between their usual brown and a brilliant, inhuman orange. You didn’t have time to scold him for being too loud. There was no time for anything except for pushing your feet as hard and fast as they would take you.

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“I was so prepared for the first flight. I had flown the simulator, developed the flight control laws, and had been practicing by flying F-111s and F-16s. We made several taxi runs and had gotten to the point lifting the nose wheel off the ground and deploying the drag chute. I taxied out really early to take advantage of the smoother air at dawn. We didn’t fly with all the computers on during that first flight.  Overall, it was a simple flight with the gear down all the way. We did some mild maneuvers in pitch, roll, and yaw."  – Hal Farley, Lockheed test pilot, Bandit 117