The real downside (for me at least) to be extensively trained in analytical thinking (which is pretty much all a scientific education is) is that sometimes I can’t shut it off and it does at times make it hard to just like, enjoy things.
Like someone just wants to share a fun thing and my asshole brain is just like ‘here’s five reasons why that thing is probably not true/not as fun as you think it is’ and it’s like, calm the fuck down we don’t need that, just let people enjoy their shit geez.
For example I was genuinely taken out of an episode of a shitty police procedural I was watching the other day because they had a scientist say something about better controlling his evil ‘experiment’ and I was like ‘well that’s not actually a true control for you conditions and it should be obvious.’
Like shut up brain, no one cares. you’re watching shitty tv by yourself, stop.
This is a great question, and I’m going to answer it like in a personal sense cause I dont know what is good for everybody but,
- Clean!! I know I always feel so much better when I clean my room or my space or wherever I am in that time, it helps reduce anxiety and I get the like anxious procrastination of just letting the mess build up but trust me if you put on some music and force yourself you’ll feel a ton better
- Take a shower, I feel like it helps you process things and be numb for a little while while you just stand there and think, which we all need sometimes. Afterwards put on lotion and brush your teeth, anything you need to feel clean.
- Put together a playlist. Make one of your favorite songs, things that help you focus or make you happy (( or *cough* *cough* go check out our spotify for some cool tunes lovelysuggestions )). I personally make a new one with different songs each month, it really does give me something to look forward to.
- Turn off social media, and youtube. I feel like when im on them I’m in a fishbowl of just like unproductivity and my brain is literally rotting away as I keep clicking different things every 6 seconds. Even netflix I feel is better than that, just getting through a show or something.
- Do something productive. Do something that will stimulate your mind or challenge you. Read, MAKE SOMETHING, it’ll make you feel clean and help unjumble your head a bit, and I think the action of doing something start to finish is really rewarding.
Those are my tips, I don’t know if you guys feel the same but that’s kinda how I get to my best mindset sometimes <3
A/N: Steve x reader. I know, right? Didn’t know I had it in me (that sounds wrong. So, so wrong), but here we are. And lets be honest. The man is fucking adorable. And.. ever seen him in a suit? Hot damn. Enjoy! x
You looked up from the files in your lap and smiled, Steve stood next to the couch, holding out a mug to you with a similar smile on his lips.
“Never” you answered, only half-joking and took the mug from him with a soft ‘thanks’. “Why are you up, Cap? Don’t you have an early training session with Sam tomorrow?”
Steve shrugged, “Yeah, I do..” he took a deep breath but didn’t seem to let the air go when he spoke, “but sometimes I just can’t get my brain to shut off. And my mom used to say that a bed is for sleeping, not thinking”
You chuckled softly, “Meaning?”
Steve shot you a lopsided smile, “Meaning, if you can’t catch sleep because you’re thinking too much, get out of bed for a while and try again later”
i’ve gotten so many asks about how i stay motivated enough to work hard even when i don’t feel like it. the reality is that motivation can make you feel like wanting to work, but discipline is what will actually force you to get up and work.
Person a tripping in the street and person b whomst is a stranger to them catches them and accidentally dips them ( like the dance thing u know)
Justin Oluransi likes to walk, and being in this city so far has been nothing but walking.
Walking from the subway to the hotel to the pharmacy back to the hotel, then to the hospital in the morning for his interview and from there to the deli for an early lunch then back to the hotel and then just - out to explore midtown.
New York City is all. walking. all. the. time. And it’s beautiful clear weather on a breezy spring midmorning.
He loves it.
It’s like a dance, weaving between the many pedestrians, pausing for cars in the street but not waiting for the signal to turn green, picking up the pace to get away from the creepy dude following too closely, and then slowing down to enjoy the atmosphere - suddenly halting to catch his breath when he turns a corner and sees the Empire State Building.
What a sight, what a rush, what a thrill! The only thing missing would be a -
A man bumps into him from behind so hard he’s twisted around and Justin’s glad he’s got quick reflexes because otherwise the man would have hit the concrete with the back of his head.
Instead, Justin has an arm under his shoulders and the other hand gripping the man’s waist tight to keep him cradled against his chest.
Wide green eyes stare up at him, and for a moment Justin can’t think. Those eyes are mesmerizing - they’re beautiful, soft, sweet. Justin’s lost in them.
It takes a moment for him to register that the other man’s hands are both gripping his arm tight, fingers digging into the light fabric of his favorite salmon hoodie, and he realizes he should help the man back to his feet.
“Sorry,” Justin says, pulling him into an upright position and letting his hands linger on the other man’s biceps for a moment to make sure he can support his own weight just fine.
“Chyeah, no, please, I’m sorry, I just, uh -” The other man is fumbling for words, running his hands over himself and then reaching up to right the cap on his head. “My legs don’t always send letters of intent to my brain, so sometimes my body wants to keep a pace and my legs just like - bolt for no apparent reason and I tumble over myself like a newborn fawn and it’s not - uh..”
He finally looks up and meets Justin’s gaze and for a moment Justin thinks he might lose himself in those beautiful eyes again, but the other man seems to suddenly regain control of himself upon catching sight of him. He straightens and stands taller, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt and licking his lips.
Justin does,, not follow the movement. Nope.
The other man clears his throat. “That wasn’t very chill of me.”
Justin laughs and the other man smiles softly in response.
“That’s ok,” Justin says. And then, because this man is really beautiful and Justin has never passed up an opportunity to flirt with beautiful people, he says “I was just thinking about how walking around here is like dancing, and then you waltzed into my arms for one heck of a grand finale.”
That gets a surprised laugh and a hint of a blush creeping on his cheeks, Justin can tell.
God, this man is beautiful.
“I’m Justin,” he says, extending his hand forward.
“Derek,” the other man - Derek - says.
When their palms meet Justin has to will himself not to stare at the way they fit in each other so well, or how they look clasped like that, or how long Derek’s fingers are.
“So uh,” Derek says, pulling his hand away but letting his fingers trail along Justin’s just slightly. “You pick up dance partners on 6th Av often?”
“Shit, is that the street this is? I thought I was on Broadway?”
He has to look around for a second, because if he got lost he has no idea how he’s gonna get back to the hotel and he cant handle being lost right now.
But Derek’s easy laugh flows over him, as does his gentle touch on his shoulder to draw Justin’s attention back to him.
“Yeah, Broadway’s right here. It just intersects here, see.” He’s pointing out all the street signs around them. “You probably just walked one block this way without realizing.”
“God, I’m such a tourist.”
Derek laughs again, and Justin loves how it sounds. “That’s alright, so’s everyone else.”
“You’re not from here either?”
“Oh no, I was born and raised on the Upper East Side. But everyone’s a tourist in this city bro, even the locals. Tourism is a state of mind.”
Justin lets that hover in the air for a moment. He watches Derek’s face and the way he seems so much more collected now, so much more in control and - chill.
“I’d love to have a five hour conversation with you about that one sentence.”
“No shit.” Justin revels in the curious look adorning Derek’s face and asks “Where can we get coffee and talk into the sunset?”
Derek smirks and Justin can feel in his bones that he is not going to make the flight home tonight.
But that’s ok, maybe he won’t go home. Maybe he’ll stay in this city, take that position at the hospital, and maybe… maybe he’ll have Derek show him around in the meantime.
explained, a sin-eater is someone who consumes a ritual meal to magically
take on the sins of another person, thus absolving the person and saving their
has another name for this person: Jesus Christ.
The son of God who died for our sins. The concept that superheroes are
Christ like figures is nothing new, and is certainly one I’ve written about
before. However, “The Sin- Eater” is as close as Arrow has ever come to a
literal comparison. Oliver Queen has a
history of taking others’ sins upon himself. Essentially, blaming himself for
their wrongs. As if somehow taking responsibility for them will save them.
died for our sins, if that action of selfless love is our salvation, then why
do we ever need to be held accountable for our sins? Aren’t we already
that’s just not the way it works. There is nothing we can ever do that will
stop God from loving us, but that does not prevent us from seeking His mercy.
Yes, Christ died for our sins, but we must be held accountable for those sins.
We have to seek forgiveness. We have to desire salvation in order to truly
achieve it. The door to God is always open. There’s nothing we can ever do to
close it, but we still must make the choice
to walk through it.
Oliver Queen really saving anyone by being a sin-eater? Or maybe the better
question is… is Oliver even worthy of
maladaptive daydreaming…. isn’t just making up cute scenarios on long car rides… it’s stopping to do whatever you are doing because your brain just had an idea and then walking around the house, throwing a pen around, thinking until your mom gets annoyed with you
and, boy, does my mom get so annoyed because i just can’t stop pacing. sometimes i have to actually run back and forth because my it just stimulates my thoughts. how many times has she just shouted at me to stop. i calm down for a moment, then i’m up and running around five minutes later… again.
moving vehicles give me peace because the car or train or whatever is doing the movement for me. and i really need to move
i just go into this whole another world and i can’t really stop it. i can’t really spend a moment without thinking what this and that character would do in this and that situation. i can’t process my feelings without projecting them to some made-up person. sometimes i have to mimic the gestures of the character i’m thinking about. sometimes it happens in the middle of the street. sometimes people might stare.
and i can’t stop running around or carrying small things, like pencils.
and it’s not awesome at all. it annoys the heck out of people around me (expect maybe my brother). i always have to explain to my friends why i suddenly jump up from my chair and run across the room. i do it without realizing it. and it is really hard to explain. and falling asleep is also tough since every ten minutes and seem to sprint out of my bed because my brain gets excited about a made-up scenario.
thinks of all time i waste just… fucking daydreaming.
if you call yourself a maladaptive daydreamer for thinking about fictional characters much… well, knock yourself out, but think for a moment how bad it can be for others. and this thing is not taken seriously at all. my mom definitely doesn’t.
anyone who’s experiencing this, writing might help. too bad i have too many thoughts and can’t write them all down. and new scenarios surface every day.
As a spoonie and neurodivergent person the abled population seems to expect that you’re always going to be different and an upstanding person and they act shocked and horrified when the uwu precious disabled girl just wants to be normal and draws dicks on her notebook and drinks and vapes and has neon hair and wants to be sexy and just generally does things assosciated with abled folk her age, as though disabilities are going to change the fact that I’m a teenager and while I’m by no stretch an extrovert, sometimes I want to try have fun like normal folk my age.
Like I can be both those things, I can be a fun-loving teen and a person with ehlers danlos, fibro, ADHD, depression, anxiety, and a myriad of other things.
I want guys and girls to think I’m hot. I want to listen to loud party music (if my brain is up to that), I want to wear short shorts and fishnet tights sometimes. I want to wear scene fashion. I want to have piercings and tattoos.
None of those things have anything to do with my disorders, disabled doesn’t have a face or type as though only one kind of person gets to be disabled.
If you do fit the mold I totally am not taking away from your experience, I just get frustrated when NTs/ abled folk expect me to be a certain way and get shocked when I don’t.
I’ve been astral projecting for a long time now, and I do it at least 4 times a week, probably more. I think I have a problem. Anyway. Here are a few tips on what to do, what not to do, etc for all ya’ll trying to get into astral travel. A few of the things have links for places to find more information, ideas, and stuff.
1. You’re Captain America- get yoself a shield.I use 2 shields when I project, both protective spirals. Basically, when you’re projecting your body is left unprotected by your spirit so you need something else to protect you. Use any shield you like. I use one that protects my body from anything harmful (visualised as rose petals swirling around me- it just seemed right) and another that repels anything harmful away from me (visualised as bright lights, almost painful to look at). Sometimes, when I get bad vibes, I’ll use more and more until I feel safe. LAYER LAYER LAYER. A shield can only do one thing at a time, so if you want multiple protective actions then use more than one. You’ll know when you’ve got enough, as when you try to project you’ll feel safer.
2. Failure is ok. Honestly, I couldn’t project last night. It was hard and my brain just couldn’t get the focus and I couldn’t visualise anything. It just didn’t work, and that’s ok. Sometimes it’ll be too much for you, don’t force anything or beat yourself up over it. Stop what you’re doing, stretch your muscles and try again later. I usually wait at least until the next night (I always project at night) when I’ve found something a little too difficult. It gives me time to rest and to do some grounding.
3. You’re going into Narnia. What does that mean??- imagine a door! I spent a long time trying and trying to project into the astral realm until I realised that I simply had to open a door!! When I project, I visualise a white void full of different doors to different places on the astral realm, I walk around and find my own door or draw it to me. I turn the handle, walk through and BOOM astral realm. This can take a while and it’s hard at first, when I first tried this method I found the door, put my hand on the handle and got thrown out back into my body again. Take your time, practice and you’ll get there.
4. FFS DON’T GET LOST. When you first manage to get through the door, don’t go too far. Take your time exploring what’s around you, and anyway, it’s more fun to find every little thing that’s in the astral than just barrelling through at 100000mph and missing it. I found one of my spirit companions, A, while slowly going through this tiny patch of forest that exists in my plane. If you do go a little far, which I have done before, I looked at my wrist and found a red string wrapped around it. I followed the string back to the door. Simple.
5. Block out everything. I use white noise of a thunder storm for this, but anything will do. ‘8 Hours of’ is a good youtube channel with lots of different options for white noise. Don’t astral project for the 8 hours, but the sounds are awesome and there’s no ads that’ll interupt you.
6. Find a mirror. Not because you’re the bloody evil queen in Snow White, but because you’ll want to know what you’re astral form looks like. Go searching, use your mind’s “eye” and listen for it, you’ll know where it is. Stand in front of it and look. Don’t be afraid of what you see, your astral form might be quite different from your physical one. As someone who’s agender, my astral form is completely androgynous, but also has giant horns and 6 ENORMOUS black wings that can wrap around me and form some sort of cloak-dress-robe-thing. Yuup, it was a surprise. Just accept that this is your form, and as it’s based on your spirit, you’ll probably like it no matter what.
7. Have any deities?? You might meet them here. I worship the gaelic goddess Brighid, as well as Persephone and Hades and I’ve met them when astral projecting a few times. You can spend time with them in the astral, get to know them and even give them offerings. There is a huge area of my astral plane that is completely dead- like Pride Rock under Scar dead- and I’m currently trying to regrow it. I’ve so far grown a huge oak tree in the centre and made a pasture for Brighid as she likes to keep cattle. Hades, for some reason, wants a massive waterfall and Persephone just wants flowers- which I’ll be doing for them soon. I’ve also seen Mac Lir and Poseidon walking together off on the horizon of the ocean. I just let them do their thing.
8. Don’t upset Brendon Urie- CLOSE THE GODDAMN DOOR! You enter the astral through a door, close it behind you so that nothing gets out. When you leave, close the door extra carefully, don’t look back at it as you walk away. Close it and then leave.
9. Be careful when you’re out. When you re-enter your body it may feel weird, you might get pins-and-needles or your limbs may feel heavy or numb. Just sit or lay there for a while, give yourself time to ground and get comfortable in your body again, don’t sit up or start walking about the moment you leave the astral. Let your shields come down ONLY when you’re certain you’ve completely re-entered your body. Stretch a little and then get up. Go about your day, have a nap, go to bed, whatever you want to do.
It took a good hour until all her wounds were tended to. Bruce had a pained expression on his face the entire time he was attending to her, probably unwillingly imagining the grim images of what was done to her, just as I had been doing.
“She seems to be fixated on you” Bruce said as he disposed of his latex gloves. “she trusts you; for as far as she can trust anyone”
I sighed, biting my lower lip, a nervous tick that I can’t seem to get rid of. “I noticed. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“I know it’s inconvenient, but you’re gonna have to be the one to take care of her. If she’s ever going to speak, it’ll be with you” Bruce said matter-of-factly.
“It’s not inconvenient” I said all too quickly. “I just..” another sigh left me, “I’m not good at this kind of thing”
i can’t put this into words very well but sometimes i’ll be having a normal day at home and it’s really really quiet and all of a sudden i can almost, almost hear my mom yelling at me from that one day she got super mad at me
it’s not like i can actually hear it but my brain just keeps playing my mom’s yelling over and over again until it gets hard to breathe and it’s always the same memory every time it happens and help i don’t know what this is
often times my mouth doesn’t move as fast as my brain does, so I either end up pausing to think for long periods of time in the middle of a sentence or I end up jumbling words and stuttering as a result (this is a common symptom of ADHD)
and I want people with and without ADHD to understand this
so shout out to all my fellow peeps with ADHD or ADD
you’re not stupid
you’re not weird
just take a breath and know your brain is literally so full and smart and working that your body just has a hard time keeping up sometimes.
i feel like i just figured out a lifehack for my brain somewhat
so i struggle with getting up and doing things sometimes, to the point where stuff kinda builds up and gets overwhelming (imagine ur hungry, no clean dishes, garbage is full, kitchen is dirty, no clean clothes and out of soap for everything and u havent slept yet and stores are almost closed, it happens occasionally)
but i keep thinking if i can just get up and do one thing little by little i can eventually do all the things, but this is very hard
i tried setting myself a timer as in a “in 20 minutes go do thing” but i end up spacing out
anyways discovered a thing that is like a timer buit isnt a timer and it works for some reason n very very easy to do so doesnt feel like a task in of itself
I boil some water in my electric kettle and tell myself “do as many things as you can before the water is fully boiled” theres no chunk of time associated with that task, but it does take a bit for it to click and before my brain can figure out whats going on and stop me whoops i just cleaned half dishes and boiled some water go me!
then i just repeat until everything i need to do is done
i dont know why this works, maybe because my brain cant associate boiling water with an inherent chunk of time like “in 20 minutes do this” or “at 7pm do thing” but it works so woohoo brain hack!
In your dream, you were on a boat, roughing it out on a stormy sea. The night sky was illuminated by sudden flashes of lightning, the turbulent waves beneath you rocking the boat and tossing you about like a rag doll along the wooden boards.
The moment you registered pain course through your side as you hit the ground, your eyes would fly open, and then you were no longer on a boat, nor were you lost at sea. You were back in your room, covered in a blanket of darkness. And you were shaking.
Except it wasn’t you. It was someone else. Someone hugging your body tightly, trembling like an earthquake was tearing through his body, his ragged pants the wild cries of a hurricane as it ripped through his chest and eroded at the fragments of sanity that remained in his glass head. A tsunami of tears was pouring from his eyes, gushing onto your clothes along with cold perspiration that streaked his cheeks and neck.
Your hip and shoulder hurt from where you had collided with the ground when you fell off the bed with him, and you were a mess of tangled limbs and blanket that had nearly been dragged off from the bed with the both of you. He seemed to have woken up now, his vice-like grip starting to soften as he pulled away from you, his frame still shaking, hidden in the shadows.
“S-Sorry…” you heard him say in a mess of incoherent sobbing. He hastily got to his feet to get to the door, but he tripped on the blanket as he did so, and ended up tumbling down onto the floor again with a groan mixed with a feral cry.
The pain that you registered initially was quick to fade as you felt a more intense pain grow in your chest. The back of your throat constricted and you couldn’t bear to make a sound as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled his head against your chest.
He didn’t move. He couldn’t. All he could do was make a strangled sound in the back of his throat as he attempted one final time to hold himself back, before finally releasing it all.
It was an anguished howl, like that of a beast in a cage, longing to break free.
You waited, holding him in your arms, biting down on your lip as you allowed the tears to quietly slip down your face. It fell with a soft pitter-patter on his messy red hair, like rain in a fiery hot desert. You waited as he released his pain through the river of tears and hoarse screams leaving his open mouth, as he fought against the shadows of nightmares and memories that were clawing at him, threatening to overwhelm him all at once.
“You’re not there, Saeran. You’re here. I’m here. And we’re safe.” You repeated that like a prayer, whispering it in his ears like a lullaby, rubbing your hands up and down his back as he hiccuped and choked on his tears. It was difficult to keep the trembling from showing in your voice, but you had to do it. For him. You had to be strong for him.
“She… She was there. With the ropes. And the syringes. They’re coming an– NO, DON’T!” he screamed. “DON’T GET NEAR ME, STAY AWAY! AWAY! DON’T LET THEM– I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I promise, so please– Please hyung, please, save me… Please…”
“She can’t hurt you anymore,” you spoke, struggling to suppress your sob now as you squeezed him tighter in your arms. “No one can hurt you again. Your hyung is here, in the other room. MC is there as well. And you have the RFA behind you. We’re your family now, and we won’t ever let anything happen to you, okay?”
“S-She… She was there…” he murmured.
“She’s gone now. And I’m here. I… I promised I wouldn’t let you get hurt again. So please, don’t be scared anymore. You don’t have to be.”
“R-Really?” His voice was muffled against your shirt, and you felt relief course through you when he started to calm down, his breathing becoming more regular now and his shaking beginning to ease up. “I don’t have to be scared..?”
“I’ll protect you,” you assured him. “We’ll all protect you, and we’ll make sure that no one can hurt you again. I promise.”
“Promises… Can I trust them..?”
“I promised I would love you,” you said, pausing as you choked back a sob. “Even- Even if the sun dies and the sky falls and the clouds disappear forever, I’ll still love you. I love you, Saeran. So does your brother and MC. We’re together now. So don’t be afraid of a nightmare, because we’re real. This,” you cupped his cheeks, pulling his head away from your chest so you could look at him in the eyes. “is real.”
His eyes were bloodshot and he could barely open them now. His nose was red, and a mix of snot and tears ran down his lips, dripping down his chin steadily. Leaning in, you brushed your lips against his, kissing him softly and tasting salt on your lips. He couldn’t move for a moment, seemingly unsure of how to react.
The moment he regained his senses, he was like a wolf, hungrily devouring your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His groans were primal, his hands clawing at your clothes, arms, legs, as if trying to make sure that you were real. He pushed his weight against you, knocking your head against the side of the bed as he pressed up against your body and slanted his head so he could slip his tongue in deeper, glide it sensually along the roof of your mouth.
The rustling of your clothes as he roughly pulled at them and the heat dancing in between your bodies reminded you of summer, and the ice cold on his fingers, of winter. That was essentially what he was; Saeran was a binary. In him dwelled two people: one a man who bore scars that kept him from trusting people, and the other an innocent boy who yearned nothing more than the company and comfort of others.
The air was stuffy, your hot breaths mingling with each other’s as he pulled your naked body flush against his. Soft pants gradually morphed into moans, muffled whenever he grabbed you by the nape of your neck and crashed your lips against his. He would muffle his own groans by resting his forehead against the mattress of the bed while biting into your shoulder, hard enough to make you cry out. Hopefully not loud enough that your neighbours would wake up.
And then you were both moving in tandem, rhythmic thrusts making you claw at his back while whispering his name feverishly. Your thoughts became fragments, and your words became a jumbled mess, mixed with “Ahh”s and “Ohh”s while he moved and took you there, in a mess of blanket and limbs on the floor.
It wasn’t long before the both of you reached your peak, both stilling, freezing in place as you came undone and felt him do the same inside of you.
And then the cries were no more. Just harsh breathing that began to slow down in the peaceful night. You held each other quietly, listening to each other’s breathing, feeling each other’s heart beat. Chest to chest, heart to heart. A steady drum pulsing through your hot, sensitive skins.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured against your ear at last, his hot breath tickling you. “Did it hurt when you fell off?”
You shook your head, sighing as you ran your fingers affectionately through his hair. “It’s fine. Don’t be sorry. You just… need more time. And I’ll wait for as long as you need to. Just don’t ever forget that I’m right here, fighting this together with you, okay? You’re not alone anymore.”
He pulled away then, his golden eyes shining in the dim moonlight streaming through the translucent curtains. They were moist, glossed over as he nodded, sniffling once more and you brushed your thumb just below his eye as one more tear slipped out.
“You’ll stay with me? This broken, pathetic mess of a person?” he asked.
“Always,” you smiled, as a tear glided down your own cheek, your chest swelling with adoration and hurt for this beautiful man. He was broken, yes, a man just starting to accept the pieces of him that he was trying to glue back together again. There were cracks, scars, that would never disappear, but you loved him nonetheless. He was strong, far stronger than he thought he was.
You leaned in to plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “I said it just now: even if the sun dies and the sky falls and the clouds disappear, I’ll never stop loving you. I’ll never leave your side, I promise.”
“Okay,” he nodded, resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes as he heaved a small sigh. That was good enough for him. “I trust you.”
And with those three words, the both of you shared one more kiss before getting back on the bed, listening to each other’s breathing until you fell sound asleep again.
A/N: This… was supposed to be innocent angst fluff but whoa how did that turn into lime-ish smut??? Does this even count as smut? I just felt like writing something based on the song “Little Do You Know” by Alex and Sierra but… how did this happen??? I don’t understand my brain sometimes…
Summary: Lance thinks he can get away with flirting with Keith if it’s in Spanish. Lance thinks if he says the words angrily enough no one will catch on to the ruse. Lance thinks his secret crush is safe. Lance, my friends, is very…very wrong.
Imagine Steve Rogers hanging out with Jennifer Walters (She-hulk). They go to the same coffee place every morning and order the same coffee. It's a good conversation starter apparently.
“I didn’t take you for a
Starbucks guy. Or a chain store guy,
Steve glanced over to his
left. Jennifer Walters was giving him a
small, tired smile. He hadn’t met her,
officially. A few hand-shakes and bits
of small-talk exchanged at events but not more than that.
“Because I dress like a
hipster?” He parroted the good-natured
jab from Tony.
“Because you’re one
hundred. And also the hipster thing.”
Steve laughed. “I didn’t expect to see you in my neck of the
She hummed, accepting her
cup form the barista. “I’ve got a
meeting with your landlord today, did he not tell you?”
“He didn’t.” Steve nodded to her cup. “Though I appreciate your optimism. A medium instead of a large.”
“You mean a Venti.”
Jennifer tapped her cup to his in a ‘cheers’ motion. “This is just the beginning. I’ll need an excuse to take a break partway
through our meeting for another and to meditate. I wonder sometimes how Banner does it.”
Steve held the door for
her, walking towards the Tower with her at an easy pace. “I think it really is a huge bag of weed.”
Jennifer laughed. “By the way, I meant to ask you, at the
Children’s Hospital event, how does a woman go about getting a chance to pick
your brain? I’ve had an interesting case
fall into my lap and I’d appreciate some insight from someone who’s familiar
with the intent and the slang of the 20s and 30s.”
“There’re a lot of coffee
places between the Tower and your office.
I’d be glad to meet you any time.”