#Theme: Iconic Duos

[crimescrimson]

Red's Favourite Watch_Dogs Scenes: Enter Jordi Chin (1/2)

[starlitowa]

ੈ♡‧₊˚ kao dake ja suki ni narimasen icons ࿐ !

like or reblog if you use

[curestardust]

“Enjoy the Room Service at Tuesday's Motel” Reverse: 1999 | Tuesday Short

[melien]

I present the unseen Tobias and Pippa from 2017😭 Back when they weren't in any stories together yet but me and @blurrypxls already knew they'd be besties if they ever met.

[legendaryearthquakestranger]

Windows 10 Numix Duo Transform Your Desktop Experience

Windows 10 Numix Duo Transform Your Desktop Experience is one of the most widely used operating systems in the world, known for its versatility and user-friendly interface. However, while it offers a solid foundation, the default design can sometimes feel monotonous or outdated. For those looking to infuse new life into their Windows 10 desktop, Numix Duo offers an exciting and visually stunning…

[erinwantstowrite]

Halloween AU!!!

hey so. i put SOOOOO much effort into this au and for what? at least it ended up looking cool? anyways Halloween is my favorite holiday and i just HAD to make something for them!

i had a LOT of ideas for what everyone would be, but i really wanted to stick to a certain theme cause it's based around Halloween. i knew i had to have a vampire, werewolf, and a witch. cause like... obviously. iconic Halloween stuff!! but i took some liberties with everyone else and i think they turned out pretty cool!!

Jason was originally a fox shifter (which i still love and might draw art for some day) but i went with a bear in the end. is that because i thought about tiny bear cub Jaybin and wanted to cry? yeah. yeah it is. i KNEW Steph was going to be my werewolf though i started doubting myself when i went to draw her. turned out to be my favorite drawing on here which makes sense cause she is my light my love my daughter my will to live and all that jazz

Tim was actually gonna be a harpy but thank god i didn't go for that in the end. Duke was the one that was a bitch and a half trying to figure out BUT!! comments on the post asking what y'all thought led me towards Psychic so THANK YOUUUU everybody that commented!! (specifically those who thought of ghost!! Duke and Tim ended up being a perfect duo in this au)

Babs was pretty easy to figure out what I wanted for her. I read somewhere that they are seen as protectors of forests/ are considered spiritual authority figures and also.... she looks cool as fuck. Did not expect how easy it was to find a ref for a deer in a wheelchair though? I can never find the right hand or face angle reference but that was super easy???

For Bruce there was literally no question he HAD to be human. it's literally so funny that everyone who knows Batman thinks he's a spooky vampire but he's human. his first son, however?????? THAT'S the vampire. I knew Dick had to be a vampire too. A little nod towards that one comic run but in my au nothing bad happens ever 🥰 Damian also being a bat shifter is very on purpose because how funny is it that he's a bat man. Literally not a single person in the League thinks that Bruce is telling the truth about being human. Bruce you are NOT beating the secretly a vampire allegations.

adding in Jay's hilarious joke it's so fucking funny:

Alfred is actually a demon. I CAN NOT remember who made this post so if someone can help me find it, it would be appreciated!! because this was inspired by them!!! but somewhere i saw someone talk about Alfred being a demon that Thomas and Martha made a deal with (i think it was for an au idea?) and I just HAD to put it here. Alfred looks so human and everyone expects it, but he's definitely not. I put the ??? because it's so fucking funny. see if you can spot the 1 hint i put on his drawing that something is amiss!!

Peter is from an alternate dimension still, but it is not a world of creatures like him, it's just the same as LoF canon except Peter grew some extra limbs and eyes. He finds that it's actually pretty easy to fit in with the Waynes. Hard to feel like a freak when a guy can turn into a fucking bear, or your dad is a vampire, and the teenagers in the family are trying to summon ghosts or make potions.

additional doodles for this au:

i am still debating whether i am going to draw something for this au or write a oneshot, but i DO want to do something with these for Halloween

[teatime-tangents-and-toys]

Interesting Monster High design things that are never explicitly stated:

* Unlicensed vampires are all some type of pink-skinned for some reason, including related species like the manananggal

* Clawdeen, and by extension, other werewolves, never wear silver metals, because that weakens them. The Wolfs only wear gold jewelry and accents.

* Lagoona's sporty theme aligns with the use of mesh fabrics to make a pun about fishnets

* Wydowna Spider's hairline is a widow's peak and one of her hands is in Spider-Man's web-slinging shape

* Twyla's eyes glow in the dark on most editions--common knowledge, but Mattel has never told buyers about it on her boxes!

* Twyla is a boogeyman and her costume designs all feature antique architectural details and imagery of things that might be in a scary bedroom at night, like wallpaper patterns, doorknobs, bugs, and beds, while her outfits often resemble pajamas

* The two G1 pop star characters are a witch and a black cat, and a witch and cat were also a Create-A-Monster duo

* The Grant sisters' monster twist on genies is to make them plated like desert scorpions

* Elissabat's face is deliberately highly similar to Draculaura's, but their sculpts have been determined to be different--this when MH has used shared sculpts for more distant-looking and disparate pairs of characters!

* The Blob and Ice Girls are a Create-A-Monster duo because freezing was the one weakness of the Blob monster

* Deuce and Cleo as a couple invoke the synergy of snakes and Egyptian culture, the famous Cleopatra being Greek, and Cleopatra being stated in legend to have died by snakebite--similar reasons a mummy and Gorgon were paired in the Create-A-Monster sets

* Operetta is from New Orleans because it's a uniquely French area of the USA, tying her into the original setting of the Phantom of the Opera

* The manufacturing code on the back of Skelita Calaveras' original head mold is a custom sequence made to depict the name "KATRINA".

This refers to the tradition of carving a name of honor into a Dia de Muertos sugar skull, and may also reflect La Catrina, the iconic Mexican skeleton woman in the wide hat often seen in the holiday's imagery. Other dolls have these stamps on the backs of their heads with meaningless sequences of letters and numbers which are never meant to be seen, but Skelita's stamp was used for a purpose. I've checked her dolls after G1 (starting with her first collector doll in 2016), and they have a generic code stamped in and have lost this detail.

* Viperine Gorgon has distinct visual hallmarks of both human and serpent albinism, and her use of sunglasses could correspond with sensitive eyes from the condition, though she's never stated to have the condition in any material.

* Great Scarrier Reef's transformations: Electric-powered Frankie became an electric eel, Draculaura became a vampire squid, and tigerlike Toralei became a lionfish. I've heard Clawdeen was based on a wolffish, but can't be sure that was actually clear. Gil turning into a ray may be a pun with manta and manster? No idea if Lagoona was based on a specific fish or not. Nor why she even had to transform in her native territory for any reason beyond making a new doll.

* Bonita Femur's color palette is based on the rosy maple moth, which is as implausibly candy-colored as Bonita. Luna Mothews is absolutely not actually a luna moth, but could be loosely based on the cecropia moth, the largest in North America and found in regions that could include New Jersey where she's from (or West Virginia, where the Mothman is from). Her yellow exoskeleton also loosely resembles the hornet moth, but may not intentionally be based on it.

* Mouscedes King, Luna Mothews, and Elle Eedee are a primary yellow/red/blue trio but also a past/present/future trio based on an old fairy tale, a current cryptid legend, and a speculative idea of future tech

* Headmistress Bloodgood's first name was eventually revealed to be Nora, an iconically Irish name that may have been chosen to liken Bloodgood to the Irish folklore of the dullahan, another "headless rider" monster.

* River Styxx is a young-adolescent Grim Reaper ghost who is partially translucent, revealing bones in her limbs and having a more opaque face that looks like thin skin over a bony structure. This creates a fun possible worldbuilding idea that reapers start as ghosts with skin and it fades as they develop, becoming full skeletons in classic Death style when mature.

* Peri and Pearl are conjoined Hydra sisters, obviously reflecting a rare human scenario of conjoined twins through the Hydra monster concept, but also possibly being influenced by the animal phenomenon of snakes being born with two heads in an even Y-shaped structure.

* Elle has a separate sculpted panel on her hip where her factory stamp is placed, canonizing the real-world manufacturing artifact as a real/literal/diegetic feature on the manufactured robot character.

* Corazón Marikit's red fringe blends the two halves of her outfit, but also stands in for the gorier imagery of dangling intestines and entrails when the manananggal monster's body splits at the waist. She does have a spine coming out of her upper torso as the peg that clicks her pieces together, but the dolls aren't brutally gory, so her costume alludes to the folklore's more extreme imagery in a graceful way.

* Scary Sweet Birthday Cupid is the only doll in the SSB collection whose cage element is under her skirt rather than on top of it.

This placement and its rectangular silhouette make the cage functional rather than decorative, replicating an old-fashioned crinoline frame used to internally shape big skirts, and its wide boxy shape matches some rococo skirt silhouettes, suiting the other elements Cupid has drawn from the rococo aesthetic, even before G3. Victorian-steampunk Robecca Steam has also worn cage elements that invoke a crinoline without a skirt to be shaped by it.

[kathaelipwse]

Mission: You || C. San

୨୧ Pairing: Choi San (ATEEZ) × Idol!Reader

𓂃🖊 Requested: Yes

𓂃🖊 Word Count: 7461 words | Reading Time: 27-ish mins

𓂃🖊 Trope: Variety Show Meet-Cute, Slow Burn to Lovers, Matchmade by Chaos

𓂃🖊 Warnings: Idolverse AU, Fluff overload, Minor angst, Secret dating, Mentions of illness (non-serious), NO PROOF READING WAS DONE.

❄ Synopsis:

What started as a chaotic duo challenge on Running Man turns into something no script could ever write. With linked hands and stolen glances, Reader falls first… but San falls harder. From dessert deliveries to whispered confessions, their love grows behind the scenes—until it’s ready for the spotlight.

❄ Author’s Note:

This fic is my love letter to slow burn softness, variety show chaos, and San being the literal blueprint for green-flag energy. If you're into lowkey lovers turned “forever” soulmates, this one’s for you ♡♡♡

It started, as most memorable things do, with utter pandemonium. Bright studio lights assaulted your eyes, a cacophony of blaring horns threatened to burst your eardrums, and the iconic chant of “Running Man!” echoed through the cavernous set, sending a familiar thrill-cum-nervousness down your spine. You weren’t a stranger to the world of variety shows, your years as a solo idol having thrown you into the deep end of unexpected situations more times than you could count. Yet, this felt different. Larger in scale, undeniably rowdier, and carrying an undercurrent of delightful risk that made your palms slightly sweaty.

As your gaze swept across the line-up of fellow guests and the ever-energetic Running Man regulars, a particular figure caught your attention. Choi San. Even amidst the vibrant chaos, he stood out, dressed in a deceptively simple black tee that showcased the lean lines of his muscles and practical cargo pants. His smile, however, was anything but simple – wide, genuine, and radiating a mischievous energy that suggested he was not just ready for this madness, but actively anticipating it.

“Alright, everyone!” Yoo Jaesuk’s booming voice cut through the lingering cheers, his signature glasses glinting under the studio lights. “Welcome, welcome! Today’s episode theme is—Running Man Match-Made Mission!” A collective murmur rippled through the guests. Jaesuk’s grin widened. “Each guest will be randomly paired with one of our regulars or idols for a full-on couples-themed challenge. And yes,” he emphasized, drawing out the word for dramatic effect, “you’re stuck together. All. Day. Long.”

Your stomach executed a nervous flip. The prospect of being tethered to a complete stranger, especially in this unpredictable environment, was both exciting and slightly terrifying.

Behind Jaesuk, a massive screen flickered to life, displaying flashy spinning wheels adorned with cheesy pink hearts and cartoon cupids. One by one, the pairings were announced, each reveal met with a unique blend of screams, cheers, and bewildered laughter. You held your breath, a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within you.

And then, the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers once more: “Y/N and San!”

Your eyes widened. Before you could fully process the pairing, a figure was already moving towards you with that signature, captivating smirk playing on his lips. His dimples were deep parentheses framing his infectious grin, and the crinkles around his eyes hinted at a playful nature. You could practically see the word ‘trouble’ shimmering in the air around him.

“Guess you’re stuck with me,” he said, his voice a pleasant baritone as he extended a hand towards you. His fingers were long and slender.

You took it, your own hand feeling surprisingly small in his firm grip. “Let’s not lose.” The words came out with more conviction than you initially felt.

He tilted his head, his dark eyes studying you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Confident. I like that.”

☾ First Mission: Water Balloon Relay – Hands Linked

The producers were clearly not ones for subtlety. The moment the first mission was announced, you understood the true meaning of “stuck together.” Your hands were literally tied together with a surprisingly sturdy rope, San’s fingers interlaced snugly with yours. The starting whistle blew, and you were off, sprinting across a treacherously slippery field, a fragile water balloon balanced precariously between your backs. The combined awkwardness of being physically connected and the inherent instability of the task led to immediate chaos.

“Left, left—no, your other left!” San shouted, his laughter echoing across the field as your synchronized movements devolved into a series of stumbles and near-falls.

“You’re the one dragging me!” you retorted, your own laughter bubbling up despite the precarious situation.

“Because you’re slow!” he teased, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as he tried to steer you.

“You’re a menace!”

“And you’re cute when you’re panicking,” he shot back, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You faltered for a split second, the unexpected compliment sending a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks. You quickly forced your focus back onto the wobbling water balloon, determined not to be the one to drop it. San’s grin widened. He had definitely noticed your reaction.

☾ Second Mission: Couple Obstacle Course

The obstacle course was a grueling test of teamwork and endurance. You crawled through muddy tunnels, balanced on wobbly beams, and navigated a series of increasingly ridiculous challenges. In between gasping for air, San surprised you with unexpected moments of consideration.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern as he noticed you panting heavily after scaling a particularly high wall.

“A little out of breath. I’ll live,” you managed to say, wiping a stray strand of hair from your sweaty forehead.

Without a word, he reached into the waistband of his cargo pants and pulled out a small, folded towel. Gently, he reached out and dabbed at the sweat on your forehead. “Can’t have my partner collapsing on me.”

You blinked at him, momentarily stunned by the unexpected gesture. “You’re… oddly gentle.” The playful image you had formed of him was slowly being chipped away by these surprising glimpses of a softer side.

He shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “I can be sweet. Don’t tell anyone. It ruins my image.”

☾ Final Mission: Name Tag Ripping – Lovers’ Edition

The final mission descended into pure, unadulterated chaos. The field became a whirlwind of flailing limbs, desperate grabs, and the distinct ripping sound of name tags being torn away. Betrayals were rampant, alliances were formed and broken in seconds, and shouts of frustration and triumph filled the air.

“Stick with me,” San said, his tone suddenly lower, the playful energy replaced by a focused intensity. He moved with a surprising agility, ducking and weaving through the throng of contestants. He instinctively pulled you behind him, your back pressed against his chest, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist. It was a surprisingly intimate position amidst the mayhem.

He was fast. Incredibly fast. With a series of swift movements, he managed to rip two name tags in under a minute, his eyes sharp and alert as he scanned the surroundings for new targets.

You tried to contribute, reaching out to grab at passing name tags, but every time someone got remotely close to you, San was already there, effectively using his body as a shield.

“Let me at least do one!” you huffed, feeling a surge of competitive spirit.

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated against your back. “No way. You’re too pretty to get tackled.”

You rolled your eyes at the blatant flattery, but a warmth spread through your chest nonetheless. Your heart, you realized, was thudding at a rather alarming rate.

You and San didn’t emerge victorious, but as the exhausted contestants gathered backstage, the staff announced a special award: “Best Chemistry Award.” A collective cheer went up, and you couldn’t help but exchange a tired but genuine smile with San.

Backstage, sweaty and utterly drained, you found yourselves sitting side-by-side on a flimsy plastic bench. San nudged your shoulder with his, a comfortable silence settling between you.

“Today was fun,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Surprisingly,” you agreed, a genuine smile gracing your lips. “You’re not so bad.”

He leaned a little closer, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischievous glint. “Give me your number. I might need a partner for a rematch.”

You raised a playful eyebrow. “Are you flirting with me, Choi San?”

“Only if it’s working, Y/N.” His gaze held yours, and for a fleeting moment, the boisterous energy of the studio faded away, leaving only the two of you.

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him. He meticulously typed in his number, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips as he handed it back.

That night, as you lay in bed, your muscles protesting with every movement and your cheeks still slightly sore from all the smiling, your phone buzzed with a new notification.

San: Can’t wait for Round 2.

A soft smile bloomed on your face. It seemed, just as you had suspected, that the initial chaos was only the beginning.

-

It started, predictably, with a healthy dose of self-deprecation disguised as humor.

The morning after the Running Man episode aired, your phone vibrated with a text from San. Attached was a photographic masterpiece – a gloriously blurred shot of him mid-air during the water balloon relay, his limbs resembling a startled octopus. The caption was pure Choi San gold:

“Pretty sure this is the textbook definition of ‘grace under pressure.’ Thoughts?”

A snort escaped you, quickly escalating into full-blown laughter that echoed in your quiet apartment. You immediately saved the image under the contact name you’d just re-created by changing from 'San(ateez)' to : “San (Chaos Coordinator).”

From then on, your phone became a conduit for playful banter. Texts arrived at irregular intervals, snippets of his day, random observations about the world, and, of course, plenty of teasing directed your way (and vice versa).

San [1:03 PM]: “Just saw a replay of me almost taking out Kwangsoo during the name tag ripping. My ninja skills are truly underrated. Also, still accepting bubble tea as a reward for my heroic efforts.”

You [1:04 PM]: “Heroic? You mostly used me as a human shield. And if anyone deserves bubble tea, it’s me, for surviving your… enthusiastic protection.”

San [1:05 PM]: “Enthusiastic is one word for it. Another is ‘strategically brilliant.’ And you were a very effective, albeit occasionally vocal, shield. Still cute though.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips despite yourself. He had a knack for delivering compliments wrapped in playful insults that somehow didn't feel offensive. It was infuriatingly charming.

The texting soon evolved into calls, initially under the guise of post-show analysis. You’d dissect the chaotic missions, reliving the funniest blunders and the most shocking betrayals. But as the days turned into nights, the calls stretched longer, the topics broadened, and the laughter softened into comfortable silences. You found yourselves sharing vulnerabilities you hadn’t intended to reveal, whispered secrets under the cloak of anonymity that the late hour provided.

“You know,” he said one night, his voice a low hum that sent a strange flutter through your stomach, “for someone who throws such sharp shade in texts, you’re surprisingly… easy to talk to.”

You mumbled into your pillow, a blush creeping up your neck. “Don’t say things like that. You’ll inflate your already massive ego.”

“My ego is perfectly calibrated, thank you very much. And besides,” he countered, a playful lilt in his voice, “is it really so surprising? Maybe you just secretly enjoy my captivating presence, even through the cold barrier of technology.”

“Captivatingly annoying, maybe,” you retorted, but the warmth in your tone betrayed your words.

“…Maybe,” he conceded, a chuckle rumbling through the phone. Then, a beat of silence before he added, softer now, “But maybe… more than that too.”

One particularly draining Tuesday left you feeling like a deflated balloon. The relentless pressure of your solo comeback had reached a fever pitch. Practice had stretched into the early hours, your usually patient choreographer had sighed audibly at your repeated mistakes, and the internet was buzzing with malicious rumors. You retreated into yourself, offering clipped responses to concerned messages from your team.

That evening, the insistent ring of your doorbell broke the silence of your apartment. Confused, you opened the door to find a familiar delivery bag sitting on the mat. Inside, nestled amongst ice packs, was a container of your emergency comfort food – the triple chocolate fudge brownie from your favorite cafe. Tucked beneath it was a small, handwritten note.

“Consider this a strategic energy boost. Don’t let the noise get to you. -S ☀️”

Your carefully constructed composure crumbled. The unexpected kindness, the quiet understanding, it was almost too much.

Your phone buzzed.

San: Heard it was a rough day. Remember that even soloists have a support system. And mine includes the right to send emergency brownies. You good?

You typed a quick, shaky “Yeah, thank you,” before a second message popped up.

San: Good. Now eat. And maybe watch that ridiculous cat video we were laughing about yesterday. Distraction is key.

You didn’t mean for this connection to burrow so deeply. You were fiercely independent, wary of letting anyone get too close, especially another idol who understood the chaotic demands of your life all too well. Yet, San’s open sincerity, his ability to seamlessly blend playful teasing with genuine care, was disarming. He could turn a simple check-in into a lifeline, a shared laugh into a moment of unexpected intimacy.

And you were falling.

Not in a dramatic, head-over-heels rush, but in a slow, steady descent, each shared joke and thoughtful gesture acting like another step down a slippery slope.

That night, a voice note arrived, his tone low and laced with a comforting weariness that mirrored your own.

“Just wanted to say… you’re doing amazing, Y/N. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Get some rest. Proud of your resilience.”

You replayed it, the warmth of his words a soothing balm on your frayed nerves.

Taking a leap of faith, you recorded a reply, your voice barely a whisper. “Thanks, San. You always know what to say. Sleep well.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, you hit send.

Five seconds later, a text popped up.

San: Just ‘San’ now? No more ‘Chaos Coordinator’? Am I losing my edge? 😉

You smiled into the darkness.

You: Only if you stop sending me blurry selfies and emergency brownies.

Another text arrived almost instantly.

San: Deal. But only if you promise to laugh at my questionable dance moves next time we meet.

You: Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Sannie.

The nickname slipped out effortlessly, a comfortable familiarity settling between you.

San: Sannie, huh? I like the sound of that.

And just like that, the playful jabs and late-night confessions had woven a thread between you, something far more intricate and potentially significant than a fleeting variety show partnership. The teasing hadn’t just been fun; it had been a subtle dance, a way of testing the waters, of building a connection that now felt undeniably real. The chaos of Running Man had faded, but the delightful, unpredictable chaos of your burgeoning relationship with Choi San was just beginning to unfold.

-

It began with the ephemeral intimacy of voice notes. Short, breathy messages sent and received in the dead of night, carrying the weight of unspoken feelings. Then came the hushed phone calls, a fragile thread connecting your separate worlds after the relentless demands of your schedules.

Soft, late-night whispers became your sanctuary. Stripped of the usual idol facade, there were no filters, no carefully constructed personas. Just sleepy confessions murmured under the covers, punctuated by shy laughter that felt stolen from the quiet hours when the rest of the world slept.

“Are you still awake?” he’d ask, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your phone and settled in your chest.

“Only because I’m talking to you,” you’d whisper back, the truth of your words surprising even yourself.

Somewhere between the clock striking 1 AM and the first hint of dawn painting the sky, the two of you carved out your own secret universe. It existed within the fragile signals of your phones, in the comfortable silences that spoke volumes, and in the unspoken space that hung heavy with a feeling neither of you dared to fully acknowledge.

Soon, the digital connection wasn't enough. The yearning for something tangible grew, a quiet ache that mirrored the exhaustion of your demanding lives. You started sneaking out.

Under the cloak of darkness, after grueling schedules and the watchful eyes of your teams, you’d orchestrate brief, clandestine meetings. Sometimes it was in the anonymity of his parked car, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. Other times, it was on a quiet rooftop, the city lights twinkling below like a silent audience to your unspoken connection. There were no cameras flashing, no stylists fussing, no managers hovering. Just him, often in comfortable sweatpants and a worn hoodie, his arms opening for you like he’d been waiting all day for that single embrace.

You didn’t talk much during those precious stolen moments. Sometimes, he’d simply pull you close, the solid warmth of his chest a grounding force against the constant whirlwind of your life. He’d rest his chin on your shoulder, swaying you gently in a silent rhythm as the city hummed its endless lullaby below.

“This,” he said once, his voice a low murmur against your ear, “this is my favorite part of the day.”

You didn't need to reply. His embrace said everything, and the quiet contentment that settled over you in his arms was an answer in itself.

-

Seven months passed in this delicate dance of stolen moments and whispered affections. Then, the calls stopped. A day of silence stretched into two, an unnerving void in your routine. A knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach with each unanswered text.

Finally, desperation overriding your usual caution, you called his manager, your voice tight with forced casualness. That’s when you found out.

San was sick. Really sick. He’d been pushing himself relentlessly, fueled by the demands of his own packed schedule, skipping meals, ignoring persistent coughs and fatigue, and working through sheer exhaustion – a tragically familiar pattern in the idol world. But hearing it, knowing he was suffering alone, ignited a fierce protectiveness within you, bordering on anger.

You stormed into his dorm the next morning, a container of steaming soup clutched in your hand, your carefully constructed composure barely containing the storm of worry and frustration brewing inside you.

“I’m fine,” he croaked, his voice hoarse but a familiar teasing glint flickering in his tired eyes. He was pale, shadows under his eyes stark against his skin.

“You’re not fine. You look like a ghost who hasn’t slept in a week.” You placed the soup on his bedside table, your concern overriding your annoyance.

“You nag more than my manager,” he joked weakly, attempting a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

But the moment your hand instinctively reached out to touch his forehead, your brow furrowing in concern at the heat radiating from his skin, his playful facade crumbled. His eyes softened, a vulnerability you rarely saw in their depths surfacing.

“I like it though,” he whispered, his gaze fixed on your hand. “Your nagging, I mean.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain your stern demeanor, but the corners of your lips twitched. You found a spoon in his cluttered kitchenette and began to gently feed him the soup you’d painstakingly made yourself – the same simple chicken and vegetable recipe your mother used to make when you were little and under the weather.

“You really didn’t have to do all this,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

“Yes, I did.” The words were firm, leaving no room for argument.

He paused, watching you intently as you carefully brought another spoonful to his lips. “Why?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Your heart pounded against your ribs. The answer was right there, clawing at your throat, desperate to be voiced.

Because I love you, you ridiculous, hardworking idiot.

Because being near you feels like finally coming home after a long journey.

Because the thought of you being sick and alone terrifies me more than any headline or scandal ever could.

But instead, your gaze flickered away, settling on the messy stack of books beside his bed. “No reason.” The lie felt heavy on your tongue.

He didn’t press, his gaze lingering on your averted face for a moment before his hand found yours on the blanket, his fingers wrapping around yours, warm and surprisingly steady despite his illness.

That night, you stayed. You sat beside his bed, watching his shallow breaths as he finally succumbed to sleep, his hair damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead. His grip on your hand remained unbroken, a silent anchor in the quiet room. It was in that stillness, watching his vulnerable form, that the undeniable truth solidified within you.

You didn’t just like Choi San. This went far beyond the playful banter and stolen kisses. You needed him, in a way that both terrified and exhilarated you. His well-being felt intrinsically linked to your own happiness.

And maybe, just maybe, the fragile vulnerability he’d shown you hinted that he needed you too.

But the weight of your intertwined careers, the potential fallout of a public relationship, pressed down on you, a suffocating reality. You couldn’t confess these burgeoning feelings, not yet, not when the stakes felt impossibly high. A love like this could shatter the carefully constructed worlds you had both fought so hard to build.

So instead, you leaned closer, your lips brushing against his forehead in a silent, chaste promise. “Sleep well, Sannie.”

And in the quiet darkness of his room, you hoped, with every fiber of your being, that he could somehow hear the unspoken “I love you” tucked between the silence and the gentle rhythm of his breathing.

The aftermath of San’s illness lingered like a comfortable silence. He had recovered physically, bouncing back with his usual boundless energy on stage and screen. But something had shifted beneath the surface. He was undeniably, irrevocably smitten. It was evident in the way his eyes lingered on you during your rare joint appearances, in the extra beat of hesitation before he spoke your name, even in the ridiculously lovesick emojis he’d occasionally slip into your late-night texts.

Of course, being Choi San, this newfound infatuation didn’t magically erase his inherent need to tease. If anything, it fueled it.

“Still haven’t replaced that lock screen of the puppy that looks suspiciously like Hongjoong with a picture of your infinitely more handsome variety show partner?” he’d smirk over a crackly FaceTime connection, his brow arched in playful challenge.

“For the tenth time, it’s a husky, and I never said it looked like—”

“The resemblance is uncanny. And your silence speaks volumes, Y/N-ssi. Volumes of unspoken admiration.”

“You’re incorrigible.” You rolled your eyes, a well-practiced maneuver by now.

“Incorrigibly charming, you mean.” His grin widened, showcasing those dimples that still had the power to make your stomach do a little flip.

But the teasing was a two-way street now, a comfortable dance of playful jabs and knowing glances. You found yourself emboldened, the walls you’d carefully constructed slowly crumbling under the weight of your growing feelings.

“You sure you’re not catching feelings, Choi San?” you’d ask casually during a brief backstage encounter, feigning nonchalance as you adjusted your microphone.

He’d lean in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “Honey, I already caught them. You’re the one who’s been clearly infected with ‘San-itis’ for months.”

“‘San-itis’? Seriously?” You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

“It’s a highly contagious condition characterized by excessive smiling at my photos and an undeniable urge to hear my voice at all hours. Sound familiar, babe?”

The casual endearment made your heart skip a beat. “Babe? That’s new.”

He’d feign innocence, his eyes wide. “Slip of the tongue. My bad.”

“Say it again.” You challenged, meeting his gaze directly.

He’d chuckle, shaking his head. “Nope. Gotta keep you on your toes.”

“Coward,” you’d whisper, a playful smirk of your own.

-

Then came the unexpected gift of a free Sunday. A rare oasis in the desert of your schedules. No early morning shoots, no grueling dance practices, no blinding spotlight. Just the quiet promise of a day to yourself. You hadn’t seen San in what felt like an eternity (weeks just weeks), the demands of your respective comebacks keeping you frustratingly apart.

A sudden knock on your door startled you from your lazy morning routine. You peeked through the peephole and your breath hitched. There he was. Choi San. In faded black sweats and a familiar grey hoodie, his usually meticulously styled hair adorably messy, and that lazy, heart-stopping smile gracing his lips.

You couldn’t even pretend to be unaffected. The sight of him, so unexpectedly casual and real on your doorstep, sent a wave of longing crashing over you. Your heart ached with a tenderness you could no longer ignore.

“Movie?” he offered, holding up a small, hopeful smile.

“Only if you bring popcorn,” you managed to say, your voice betraying the tremor of your emotions.

“Already in my trusty backpack, right next to my extensive knowledge of cinematic masterpieces. A true romantic, wouldn’t you agree?” He winked, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

He flopped onto your couch with his usual unceremonious grace, kicking his feet up onto your coffee table and casually throwing an arm over the backrest behind you, his fingers dangerously close to your hair. You tried, with every fiber of your being, to focus on the movie you’d selected. You really, truly did.

But the subtle brush of his thigh against yours sent jolts of electricity through you. The way his fingers occasionally toyed with the soft fabric of your sleeve was a tantalizing distraction. And the simple, undeniable fact of his presence beside you, a calming anchor in the often-turbulent sea of your thoughts, was almost unbearable in its intensity.

The carefully constructed dam of your unspoken feelings finally broke. The words tumbled out, a rush of vulnerability you couldn’t contain any longer.

“I love you. A lot. Maybe… maybe too much.”

The movie paused mid-explosion. San blinked, his playful expression instantly wiped clean, replaced by a look of intense focus. He stared at you for a long moment, his dark eyes searching yours.

Then, impossibly, his lips curved into that infuriatingly smug smirk again, but this time, it was softer, edged with something akin to relief.

“Wow,” he said, a low chuckle escaping his lips. “Beat me to it.”

You stared at him in a mixture of disbelief and horror. “Are you serious right now? You’ve been teasing me for weeks!”

He laughed, a full, warm sound that resonated deep within you, chasing away the last vestiges of your anxiety. And then, he reached for you, pulling you straight into his chest, his arms wrapping around you with a fierce tenderness, as if he’d been waiting an eternity to hold you this close.

“Y/N,” he murmured into your hair, his breath warm against your scalp. “I’ve been yours since day one. That chaotic mess on Running Man? Yeah, that’s when you got me.”

You melted into him, your hands clutching at the soft fabric of his hoodie, your heart racing in sync with his against your ear. You tilted your head back, your gaze meeting his, and then, acting on an impulse you no longer felt the need to resist, you pressed a soft, reverent kiss to his jawline.

He turned his head just slightly, his eyes never leaving yours, and then his lips found yours. The kiss was slow, hesitant at first, a gentle exploration. It was careful, like you both understood that this moment was a precipice, a point of no return after which your worlds would be irrevocably intertwined. And you didn’t want it any other way.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and your foreheads touching, you whispered against his cheek, the vulnerability raw and exposed.

“Don’t let go.”

San didn’t even hesitate. His arms tightened around you, his voice a low, unwavering promise against your ear.

“Never.”

The weeks that followed that whispered confession on your couch unfolded in a soft, almost dreamlike haze. Promises exchanged in hushed tones hung in the air, more binding than any contract. His kiss, tentative yet sure, had indeed turned your world inside out, leaving you breathless and wanting more. And in the quiet aftermath, you had both admitted the truth that had been simmering beneath the surface for months, the one thing that held the power to both elevate and shatter your carefully constructed lives:

You were undeniably, irrevocably in love.

But a love like yours, two prominent figures in the relentless world of K-pop, didn’t neatly fit into meticulously planned press schedules or precisely choreographed dance formations. It was a fragile bloom that needed to be shielded, tucked away from the harsh glare of public scrutiny, hidden behind hurried corners and the anonymity of zipped-up hoodies pulled low over your faces.

So, you dated quietly, your love story unfolding in stolen moments and hushed whispers. Only a select few were privy to your secret.

His members, surprisingly, had caught on with an almost unnerving speed. They’d exchanged knowing glances during your joint appearances, nudging each other when San’s gaze lingered on you for too long, and offering thinly veiled teasing about his sudden “variety show glow.”

“Hyung’s been staring at his phone like it’s the eighth wonder of the world,” Jongho had Stage whispered to Yunho during a music show rehearsal, earning a playful shove from San, who was indeed re-reading your latest text with a goofy grin plastered across his face.

Your closest friends, on the other hand, reacted with unrestrained glee the moment you finally confessed. There were squeals of delight, emphatic “I knew it!” declarations, and an abundance of celebratory emojis flooding your group chat.

“About damn time,” Wooyoung had muttered dramatically during one of ATEEZ’s rehearsals, rolling his eyes with mock exasperation as he watched San practically melt into a puddle of adoration every time your name was mentioned. “Seriously, the tension was thicker than Hongjoong-hyung’s eyeliner.” (sorry- I had to)

Your moments together were precious, stolen fragments of time carved out from your demanding schedules. Stolen glances exchanged from across crowded rooms during music show shoots, a silent language passing between you amidst the noise and flashing lights. His hand brushing deliberately against yours under the table during joint interviews, a fleeting touch that sent a jolt of warmth through you. Late-night voice notes, his voice thick with sleep and laced with a soft “I miss you” that made your heart ache in the best possible way. Kisses snatched in the relative anonymity of deserted car parks – short, sweet, and breathless promises of more to come.

You even got matching phone charms, a small, tangible symbol of your secret connection. His was a tiny, cheerful sun. Yours, a delicate silver cloud with a tiny, mischievous lightning bolt.

“Weather opposites,” he’d teased, looping your charms together with a playful wink. “But always stuck side by side, weathering the storm together.”

San was fiercely devoted. No matter where his relentless schedule took him – across the country for a festival, overseas for a concert tour – he always answered your calls, his voice a familiar comfort across the miles. He curated playlists filled with songs that reminded him of you, sending them with heartfelt messages about lyrics that echoed your shared moments. He’d even orchestrate surprise drop-bys, sometimes just for a fleeting five minutes, just to hold your hand, look you in the eyes, and whisper, “You’re doing amazing. Just wanted you to know.”

And when the weight of his demanding life pressed down on him, when the relentless spotlight burned too bright and the pressure threatened to suffocate him, you knew how to break through the carefully constructed idol facade. You made him laugh. Really laugh. Loud, full, head-thrown-back laughter that crinkled the corners of his eyes and chased away the shadows.

“You’re magic,” he told you once, his voice husky with emotion after a particularly stressful day you’d managed to alleviate with a ridiculous string of animal memes and silly impressions.

Eventually, the constant need for secrecy began to wear on both of you. It wasn’t about craving the validation of a public announcement, although that thought lingered in the back of your minds. It was about the quiet exhaustion of constantly hiding a fundamental part of yourselves, of pretending that the most significant person in your life was just a friend, a colleague. It was about wanting to simply be yourselves, together, without the constant fear of discovery. It was about owning your truth, choosing each other openly, even if it meant facing the inevitable scrutiny.

So, one quiet afternoon, curled up on his comfortable couch, the sunlight streaming through the window casting a soft glow on his relaxed features, you made a decision. You reached for your phone, snapped a soft selfie – you nestled in his familiar black hoodie, his cheek pressed gently against your temple, both of you wearing the unguarded smiles that bloomed only when you were together.

The caption was simple, a quiet nod to the beginning of your story:

“My lucky mission partner 💫”

Within minutes, the internet exploded. Notifications flooded your phone, a tidal wave of comments, shares, and frantic messages. Fans flooded the comments section with a mix of shock, speculation, and surprisingly, a significant amount of heartfelt support. The Running Man cast group chat lit up with a flurry of congratulatory (and teasing) texts. His members started yelling excitedly in their own chaotic group chat, a string of celebratory emojis accompanying their bewildered questions.

But you? You simply looked up at him, your heart overflowing with a quiet joy. He met your gaze, a soft understanding passing between you, and then he leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Now,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver of happiness through you, “the whole world knows I’m yours.”

Months had spun by in a blissful blur since that public declaration of your relationship. The initial storm of media attention had gradually subsided, replaced by a wave of overwhelming support from fans who had witnessed your connection blossom from that first chaotic episode of Running Man. And now, in a delightful twist of fate, you found yourselves back where it all began.

Stepping onto the familiar Running Man set, this time hand-in-hand and undeniably, officially a couple, felt surreal. The moment you two walked through the entrance, the cast erupted into a cacophony of disbelief and celebratory shouts.

“WAIT—NO WAY!” Kwangsoo’s jaw practically hit the floor, his eyes wide with comical shock.

“WE DID THIS!!” HaHa jumped up and down, pointing between the two of you with triumphant glee.

“THE POWER OF RUNNING MAN LOVE IS REAL!!” Song Jihyo exclaimed, a rare and genuine smile gracing her usually stoic face.

“SOMEONE ROLL THE FOOTAGE! WE NEED A MONTAGE!” Yoo Jaesuk bellowed, his arms flailing dramatically.

And cue the dramatic flashback. The giant screen behind you flickered to life, showcasing a hilarious and heartwarming montage of your first episode together – the awkwardness of the handcuffs, the playful bickering during the water balloon relay, San’s surprisingly protective stance during the name-tag ripping, the stolen glances, the undeniable spark that had flickered between you amidst the chaos.

Suddenly, everyone wanted to take credit for your relationship.

Ji Sukjin, with his characteristic bluster, insisted he was the one who “saw it first,” recalling some vague comment he’d made about your “potential” during a break.

HaHa swore up and down that he’d subtly advised San to text you after the show, embellishing the story with dramatic hand gestures and exaggerated winks.

And Yoo Jaesuk, ever the master of ceremonies, simply pointed at the two of you with a smug grin and yelled, “You’re welcome, Korea! Running Man: Bringing hearts together, one ridiculous mission at a time!”

The games commenced, a nostalgic echo of your first encounter. The producers, clearly capitalizing on the full-circle moment, resurrected familiar couple-style missions: a slippery obstacle course that had you clinging to each other for dear life, a trivia battle where your combined knowledge (and strategic whispering) proved surprisingly effective, and of course, the iconic name-tag ripping war – now imbued with a whole new level of playful tension.

San still pretended to be your fierce rival, playing up the competitiveness for the cameras with exaggerated growls and mock threats. But this time, he didn’t even bother to convincingly hide the way he deliberately slowed down, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he let you snatch his name tag (again).

You playfully smacked his shoulder, a wide grin on your own face. “You let me rip it off again! You’re supposed to be trying!”

He just grinned back, that infuriatingly charming dimple on full display. “You looked way too happy to ruin the moment. Besides…” he leaned in close, whispering into your ear, just loud enough for the mic to pick up, “I’m whipped. What do you want me to do?”

The rest of the cast groaned and playfully jeered at your blatant affection.

“Is this Running Man or Running Romance?!” Kwangsoo wailed, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Can we get a spinoff show just for them? ‘Running in Love’?” Somin suggested, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Y’all are making us single people suffer!” Jongkook grumbled, though even he couldn’t suppress a small smile.

During the interview segments, you found yourself instinctively leaning into his side, a comfortable habit formed over months of quiet intimacy. He’d gently adjust your microphone, his touch lingering for a fleeting moment, a silent reassurance under the watchful eyes of the cameras. You both wore matching smiles, a radiant glow of happiness that seemed to emanate from within, creating your own little world amidst the usual Running Man chaos.

The viewer comments online exploded once again, this time with an overwhelming wave of adoration and heart emojis.

Fan 1: “THE CHEMISTRY IS INSANE. They’re even more in love now, it’s beautiful!”

Fan 2: “They look so effortlessly happy together, it actually makes my heart ache with secondhand joy.”

Fan 3: “I’M CRYING OVER THIS REUNION OMG. My original Running Man ship has sailed and reached the cutest destination!”

Then, as the episode drew to a close, Yoo Jaesuk, ever the master of the unexpected, cleared his throat with a dramatic flourish, his eyebrow raised in that signature mischievous way.

“So…” he began, his gaze sweeping between the two of you, a pregnant pause hanging in the air. “Now that we’ve witnessed the full circle of your Running Man romance… should we be expecting a wedding special anytime soon?”

The entire room fell silent, all eyes fixed on you and San. The usual boisterous energy of the set seemed to hold its breath.

San blinked, a slow, thoughtful smile spreading across his face. He turned slightly, looking directly into the camera, his gaze steady and sincere.

“Ask me again in a few years,” he said, his voice a low, confident murmur.

Cue:

The cast erupting into another round of excited screams and playful teasing.

You grinning, a blush creeping up your neck as you playfully nudged his side.

San throwing a protective arm around your shoulders, his laughter echoing through the studio as you simply leaned into his embrace, content in the warmth of his smile and the irresistible charm of his dimples.

And the screen faded to black, leaving viewers with a tantalizing question mark hanging in the air:

“TO BE CONTINUED?”

--

Three years had painted a rich tapestry onto the foundation laid in that chaotic studio. Three years of stolen kisses squeezed between the relentless demands of your schedules. Three years of sleepy morning voice notes that chased away the lingering darkness and midnight giggles shared like precious secrets. Three years of stolen glances across crowded award show venues, of shared playlists that spoke a language only you understood, of secret codes whispered into the phone, and quiet promises murmured under starry skies.

It wasn’t a fleeting infatuation anymore. It was real. Solid as the intertwined fingers resting on the console between you. Soft as the comfortable silences that settled between you. Steady as the unwavering beat of your hearts when you were near.

And today, as the sun began its slow descent towards the horizon, it felt as though the universe itself had decided to pause, to hold its breath just for the two of you.

You and San were parked in his car near the coast, the sky a breathtaking canvas dipped in sherbet hues of orange, pink, and lavender, the sun melting gently into the vast expanse of the sea. There were no flashing cameras, no bustling idol chaos, no ever-present entourage. Just two souls in a car, fingers interlaced, the soft melody of a shared favorite song drifting from the speakers, and hearts brimming with a love that had weathered every storm.

You leaned against the cool leather of the passenger seat, your voice quiet as you gazed at the mesmerizing sunset. “Isn’t it wild?”

He chuckled softly beside you, his thumb brushing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “One silly mission… and here we are.”

“You mean the mission where you tried to drown me with strategically aimed water balloons and shrieked every time I got within a five-foot radius?” you teased, a fond smile gracing your lips.

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “Hey, I was in character. Besides, you wiped my sweat like a pro and… I distinctly remember letting you win that last name tag battle.”

You laughed, the sound light and airy in the quiet car. “You let me? You were practically running in slow motion!”

He shrugged again, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “You looked cute when you were determined.”

You turned to face him fully, your eyes shining with a depth that went far beyond nostalgic reminiscing. “Thank you, San. For always showing up for me, even when it felt impossible. For always… choosing me, amidst all the noise.”

San’s gaze held yours, a warmth radiating from his dark eyes that made you feel like you held the entire universe within your embrace. He reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his hand then cupping your cheek with a tenderness that still made your heart flutter after all this time.

“You were the best thing I never planned for, Y/N-ah,” he murmured, his thumb stroking your cheek softly.

“The best plot twist in my entire story,” you echoed, leaning into his touch.

The gentle sea breeze carried his next words like a precious secret, whispered into the fading light. “I’ve been thinking…”

He paused, his gaze dropping to your intertwined hands before meeting your eyes again, a newfound seriousness in their depths. “Long-term. You and me. Forever kind of things.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, a wave of emotion washing over you. He leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours, his warm breath feathering against your lips.

“You sure?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “You know all my embarrassing habits now. The way I steal the covers, my questionable singing in the shower…”

He grinned, that familiar, heart-melting dimple appearing. “And I snore, remember? Loudly. Enough to rival a small engine.”

You chuckled, a genuine, happy sound. “I’ll take your snoring over silence any day, Choi San.”

As the last sliver of the sun kissed the horizon, painting the sky in the deep, velvety hues of dusk, his hands moved from your face, gently framing it as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was soft and tender, a silent promise of forever. Then, with a careful and loving motion, he shifted you from the passenger seat, drawing you onto his lap, your legs straddling his as the kiss deepened, a sweet and intimate moment shared in the quiet sanctuary of the car.

Pulling back slightly, his voice, low and steady, he said:

“Running Man was the mission.”

His eyes, filled with a love that transcended the chaos and the fame, held yours captive across the close confines of the car.

“You were always the prize.”

THE END.

[madam-herta]

⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ PLAYING DTI WITH THE HSR MEN⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

☾ Boothill, Aventurine, Dr. Ratio (Separate) X GN!Reader

☾ 1.0k Words

☾ Summary: You’ve been playing Dress to Impress for a while and decided to ask your boyfriend to join in. How does it go?

☾ Repost from my old account!

BOOTHILL

☾ When you asked him to play with you, at first, he’s a little skeptical if he’d enjoy it, but surprisingly gets really into it.

☾ Not the best at making outfits but he’s got the spirit. Tends to not follow the theme pretty often, choosing to do his own thing and put on what he thinks looks right, which most of the time looks like a troll outfit. He’s here for fun, and fudge it, he’s gonna have it.

☾ He’s disappointed to find out there’s no guns in the game, since you always need to have a gun, so you teach him a hack to make it look like you have one, and once you taught him that, he’s never stopped using it.

☾ His voting habits are low-key harsh. It’s a good thing he can’t type (and you made sure he doesn’t have his voice chat turned on) because he definitely mouths off a little. You always hear him say “Why’d they use that color?” or “No way that’s what they wore.” and lots of other ones quite a bit, while leaving everyone at 1 star

☾ Once your outfit hits the runway though, he does a whole 360, continuously praising you (no matter how bad the outfit is) and giving you those shiny 5 stars, exclaiming “yer show them real style sweetheart!” And when he’s on the runway, he’s spamming A LOT of poses while asking you to vote him 5 stars (you do, even if sometimes you don’t want to).

☾ He might start mouthing off again depending on how that podium looks like.

EXTRA

“Hey sweetheart, ya think I should use these fur things?”

“The theme’s cozy Boothill, I don’t think those items really match. Besides, the fur set is way overdone.”

“I think they’d look good though. I’mma use them”

“...”

AVENTURINE

☾ The only types of games Aventurine is familiar with are gambling games, so when you ask him to play Dress To Impress, he was a little curious to see what it was about, so he decided to take you up on your request and play with you.

☾ Man is a style icon both IRL and in the game. Once he has the mechanics down, with each passing round it seems his outfits get better and better. Even with him being a low rank, he still dresses like he could be a Trend Setter or even a Top Model (you literally have no idea how he does this, he just does). You’ve asked him for advice sometimes, even though you’re the one who got him to play the game.

☾ Game passes are a must, so he buys all of them for himself and you (if you don’t have them already) because as he said when buying the passes “What’s the point of playing if you can’t enjoy the game to the fullest?”

☾ Would actually vote fairly. He wants to win of course, but where’s the fun in winning if he voted everyone 1 star? It could be a bust, or, maybe he’d take it all?

☾ And take it all he does, because with luck and skill on his side, he is always on the podium. Even when he had barely any time to put anything on, he’s still up there.

☾ A big fan of doing duos with you. Like, what’s better than showing off your outfit with your lover? Would 100% try to match outfits with you too. Just loves showing off the two of you together. And how can you say no? Hitting the runway with Aventurine to then getting on the podium with him is one of the best feelings.

DR. RATIO

☾ It takes a lot of convincing to get Dr. Ratio to play Dress to Impress. He is a busy man, afterall, so don’t expect him to immediately drop everything to play with you. Though on days where he has a bit of free time and you ask to play with him, he’ll take some time to relax with you and play some DTI.

☾ Has a pretty good sense of style, so he makes some pretty good outfits. Going along with that, he is STRICT on following the theme, always making sure to have the most accurate outfits he can make, so expect him to be searching up outfits based on the themes a lot ( especially when it’s a theme he knows nothing about, like gyaru). However, sticking to the theme to a T kinda limits his creativity a bit, so his outfits might be a little on the basic side.

☾ Hear me out on this, but Ratio is interested in the Lana lore. He’s not deep into it per se, but one day while you two played together, you casually mentioned some of the backstory behind Lana when he asked about the nail lady, and it piqued his interest. He never thought that a simple looking dress-up game would have fleshed-story behind it, something that heightens his respect for the creators and all the thought that they put. Now, whenever you mention some new piece of Lana lore, he’s pretty keen on hearing it.

☾ His voting habits are fair enough, but there is some nitpicking on certain outfits. As long as you’re on theme, he’ll vote good, but depending on how good the outfit is depends just how many stars he’ll give. On outfits that he gave lower stars to, he’ll point out ways to you on how they could’ve improved.

☾ I want to say he’ll give you 5 stars no matter what, but I’m not gonna lie. When your model comes up, he’d vote for you like anyone else. He thinks it isn’t fair to everyone else to give you 5 stars just because you’re his lover, so he won’t. It is a little frustrating, but it’s kinda cute how seriously he takes the game.

[floafl]

Queen episode: feminist themes and lesbianism

(maybe not from the character you expect)

In Queen's episode, the themes of feminism are hard to miss. The beginning of the episode opens up with a male student in a yellow hoodie, attempting to cheat off of her exam. Then Queen goes on to make a speech about becoming X in front of a laughing male photographer and bar patrons, all while the female photographer, bartender, and future hero Loli all look on with inspiration

We learn from the media that the last time a woman was X was 20 years ago back in Year 8.

Heroes gain their abilities via public perception, meaning it has been 20 years since society believed in any woman being able to beat men for the role of X.

The cheating scandal between the X duo (and couple) Mr. Matchstick and Ms. Blazefire was even said to have spiraled into a mini gender war, increasing tensions between the sexes

Queen made her valedictorian speech during a very rough period in time for women in the tbhx universe, and the people were hungry for it, they ate it up!

this reaction to her speech led to Bowa- who was already a hero and the top female one at that- gaining an incredible amount of Trust as a result.

We learn from CEO Micky that Bowa was more than just an icon for Queen's words though, she has sacrificed an incredible amount. And I believe an aspect of what she has had to sacrifice is referenced in her lavender costume.

in the 1970s, western Lesbians adopted a Labrys (a type of axe) as a political symbol that was inspired by feminists before them.

This was later combined with the color purple and the black triangle (a symbol used by nazis to persecute "asocial" women and lesbians) into the first lesbian flag. This flag was made as a gesture of goodwill towards lesbians from the gay man Sean Campell, who noticed lesbians were being pushed out of gay circles at the time.

The justification of the purple color has been debated for having several meanings. The sited reason of having purple in the flag is the story of the Ancient Greek lesbian Sapphos describing the violet crowns of other women. But others insist a second meaning, that purple is a color free of gender norms. Neither pink nor blue, instead almost a combination.

Well, another shade of purple is equally important to lesbians, and that is Lavender. (The shade of purple in Bowa's outfit)

Back in the late 60s and early 70s, western Feminists were becoming harder to for mainstream media to ignore, and the dream of equality had hopes of fruition. Many feminist leaders and activists were lesbian, despite this, straight feminists feared that lesbians were hurting the movement by association. The straight feminist Betty Friedan (and president of the NOW National Organization for Women) insulted lesbians as being the "Lavender Menace" to feminism in 1969.

Rather than bow down, lesbians embraced the term, turning the insult into a point of pride. In 1970 when the "Second Congress to Unite Women" took place and suspiciously had no lesbian speakers, lesbians from the Gay Liberation Front and Radicalesbians showed up in shirts proudly proclaiming "Lavender Menace" on each of their chests. They demanded that lesbians not be excluded from the very feminist movement they were pivotal in helping build.

this moment in history solidified the term "lavender menace" as a phrase for Lesbian Feminists.

I dont think it's pure coincidence that Bowa's uniform has her in all lavender and sporting a labrys. The very first thing that came to my mind seeing her and her labrys was that photo of 1988 Lesbian Strength!

Early American feminists and lesbian feminists are famous to feminists worldwide, I think Bowa's uniform and her sacrifice are related to her lesbianism. What she has had to hide and forgo, to instead become "the perfect blend of beauty and strength" for an audience to project onto.

While Queen is unashamedly herself, proclaiming it was her belief in herself that gave her power, Bowa is instead hiding her true self and unable to detach herself from both the words and expectations of others

[xkaru-karux]

Thought you were going for a tango, Tango

IT'S THEM, MY FAVORITE HERMITS TEAMING UP (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠)

(not meant as a ship, but to each their own ig)

also can we call them achacha duo please

(separate silhouettes + icons + context clip are under the fold)

I'm very proud of this/very proud of Tango, I'm a SUCKER for steampunk, so since we don't quite understand Pearlo's theme just yet I steampunkificadored her aswell

I did this in the coloring process and thought It looked sick, so decided to make them their own thing

icons! if anyone wants to use them (please credit!)

the origin/context to the piece, for those of you that maybe haven't seen it:

[handmade-witch]

Another round of Incorrect Quotes Generator x Slytherin Boys:

Part 1 ☆ Part 3 ☆ Part 4 ☆ Part 5 ☆ Part 6

Mattheo: Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff.

Draco: YOU PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS!

☆☆☆

Draco: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?

☆☆☆

Mattheo: I’m not stupid, you know.

[Y/n]: Well, you’re doing a really good impression of it!

☆☆☆

Mattheo: She's the girl of my dreams!

Theodore: You say every girl is the girl of your dreams.

Mattheo: I have a lot of dreams!

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*

Mattheo: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table?

[Y/N]: I—

[Y/N]: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

☆☆☆

Draco: I have an idea.

[Y/n]: A good idea?

Draco: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

☆☆☆

*Draco is laying on the floor with their eyes closed*

Mattheo: Hey, are they sleeping or dead?

Theodore: Hopefully dead, I hated them.

Mattheo: Yeah, me too.

Draco, sitting up: First of all, fuck you guys.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: That sounds like a terrible plan.

Theodore: Oh, we've had worse.

☆☆☆

[Y/N], texting Mattheo: Text me when you’re home safely.

Mattheo: I’m home dangerously.

[Y/N]: Stop it.

Mattheo: I’m home lethally.

☆☆☆

Draco: Hey, what have you two been up to?

Mattheo: We were helping [Y/N] write their vows, but they kicked us out because Lorenzo was making inappropriate suggestions.

Lorenzo: How is “Theodore, I love your sweet ass” inappropriate?

☆☆☆

[Y/N], talking about Mattheo: Is this a friend of yours, Draco?

Draco: Kind of? Not really. They're in my life and there's nothing I can do about it.

☆☆☆

Theodore: What is wrong with you?

Mattheo: Loaded question. Elaborate.

☆☆☆

Draco: Guess what I'm about to get!

Blaise: On my nerves.

☆☆☆

Blaise: All of your existences are confusing.

The Squad: How so?

Blaise: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to any of you deeply upsets me.

☆☆☆

Draco: How did you convince everyone to betray me? What did you offer them?

Blaise: I just asked if they wanted to embarass you and they all said yes.

☆☆☆

Theodore: Hey, are you okay?

[Y/N]: Yeah.

Theodore: You don't look okay...

[Y/N]: Then stop looking.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Ah ready for another fantastic day of being better than Draco.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Kill me nowwwww.

Mattheo: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.

☆☆☆

Mattheo: Lorenzo! For the love of god, please turn down that music. I have a hangover.

Lorenzo: *blasting the mii theme at full volume* That sounds like a you problem, not a mii problem.

☆☆☆

Draco: You read my diary?

Blaise: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

☆☆☆

Blaise: [Y/N] won’t come out of their room!

Mattheo: Just tell them I said something.

Blaise: Like what?

Mattheo: Anything factually incorrect.

Blaise, shrugging: If you say so.

[Y/N], arriving moments later: Did you just say the sun is a PLANET?

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: If you got arrested what would be the charges?

Lorenzo: Theft.

Blaise: Disturbing the peace.

Theodore: Aggravated assault.

Draco: Arson.

Mattheo: All of the above. In that order, probably

☆☆☆

Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single motorcycle.

Blaise, with Theodore and Mattheo behind them: Wait, what do you mean THREE?!

Police: Yes…three.

Blaise: Oh, my God— What the fuck!?

Police: Wha-

Blaise: Lorenzo FUCKING FELL OFF!

☆☆☆

Mattheo: I said ‘No’ to drugs, but they wouldn’t listen.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait.

Lorenzo: You and me!

[Y/N]: *tearing up* Ok.

☆☆☆

Theodore: *yawns*

[Y/N]: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Theodore: Then you must be exhuasted.

Blaise: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.

[gallacrafts]

"Fashion fades, but style is eternal." - Yves Saint Laurent

"Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn" - Orson Welles

"Being well-dressed hasn't much to do with having good clothes. It's a question of good balance and good common sense." - Coco Chanel

and of course

"You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile" - Lovely Boylan Sisters, Annie

Whether you want to knit a scarf as fabulous as Mickey’s, have a go at screen printing your own Gay Jesus shirt, write an ode to Mickey’s iconic sleeveless self or some whump about his holey socks, drabble us up some magic about the dapper duo on their wedding or some angst about their days wearing yellow jumpsuits. Or maybe you fancy dipping your toe into the NSFW pool salivating over the boys shirtless, in boxers, swim wear, towels, or straight up in the buff…

This months theme is all about the things our boys wear - or the things they don't 😏

🧦 Theme 44: Iconic Outfits🧣

Posting day is Sunday 20th April. Please remember to tag #Iconic Outfits, #Theme44, #Gallavich Style #Gallacrafts and don't forget to @gallacrafts so we can marvel and reblog your creation!

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

⊹☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°｡ music to my eyes ₊˚｡

♪ ⋆⁺₊ ahhh im so so excited to post this collab with my best friend and fav seungmin today minho tomorrow stan @sunnysdiary we have been playing around with some ideas for a duo write forever now and it's finally here! sunny really saved my life becoming my best friend at the time i needed her most and i can't wait to share this journey with you all where we will be posting lyric themed fanfics for all of our boys!! we spent 4 hours on call yapping about this

— there is not a set date when these will be posted because we both have a very busy schedule, so please be patient!

— feel free to send me or sunny an ask or comment to be added to the taglist!

— as always these are in the first draft stages so parts and pieces may change as we see fit.

— this is also in honor of 800 followers!! thank each and every one of you who have followed me your support makes my entire universe, and with that, happy reading!!

🎧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 ⟶ @lixies-favorite-cookie

BANGCHAN has been your rival since FBI school, but when he dropped out to become a bodyguard you thought that was the last time you had to see his infuriating face again. That is until four years later, you've made a nice spot at the top of the FBI food chain when tragedy strikes. You were kidnapped and left for dead by the infamous Kaelthos, but now you're back—and you're not alone. What are you going to do when your supervisor sends you back to Thanatos Tower clad in a masquerade mask and your new bodyguard—bangchan.

Maybe I'm too Busy bein' yours To fall for somebody new Now, I've thought it through Crawlin' back to you — Arctic Monkeys, Do I Wanna Know?

🎧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 ⟶ @sunnysdiary (aka my literal wife)

MINHO was way too nervous about finally taking you out after months of gazing at you from afar. All he wanted was to impress you, causing him to make some...questionable decisions. Beyond all that you decided to give him a chance.

Is it cool if I hold your hand? Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance? Do you like my stupid hair? Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear? I'm just scared of what you think

— blink-182, First Date

🎧 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ⟶ @sunnysdiary

CHANGBIN and you had a planned date night, but girlhood of course had to slap you in the stomach, cramps beyond belief and so you asked to stay in and Changbin was more than happy to do that with you.

'Cause you watch the TV while I'm watching you There's not many people I'd honestly say I don't mind losing to But there's nothing like doing nothing with you

— Bruno Major, Nothing

🎧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟶ @lixies-favorite-cookie

HYUNJIN has been there throughout it all. From the moment you stumbled upon him during a midnight walk, pacing back and forth with your first draft in hand to finding you atop a rooftop in the middle of seoul, sobbing after a crippling rejection from your dream publisher—hyunjin has been there throughout it all; yet you have never talked to him long enough to figure out his name. You don''t have to, you follow the red string.

About the star that couldn't shine or blink Out of a million, billion Felt like an alien, alien Then that little star was surely Going to become the biggest thing

—Stray Kids, youtiful

🎧 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 ⟶ @lixies-favorite-cookie

HAN JISUNG has never lost a race. Throned King of Tokyo's Midnight Circuit when he was 17, he hasn't lost the title since—that is until you come into town. You were a fucking icon, utterly anonymous yet beloved by racers all around the world, known for your pink flaming-heart glasses and electric nickname, Neon. Nobody knows who you are or where you came from, but when you wittfully correct his accidental slip-up one night, he quickly realizes two things: you were impossible to flirt with and he's no longer the best racer in town. What will happen when the Queen of Cali challenges the King of Tokyo to a race? Who say's Tokyo can't have a queen too?

If you can, baby boy, then we can go all night 'Cause I'm zero to sixty in three point five Baby, you got the keys Now shut up and drive (Drive, drive, drive) Shut up and drive (Drive, drive, drive)

—Rihanna, Shut up and drive

🎧 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 ⟶ @lixies-favorite-cookie

LEE FELIX was your new bodyguard, and you hated his guts. In a world where all humans are expendable hate was your only shield from pain. Now you're 5,956 miles from home, landing in Seoul South Korea with your infuriatingly perfect bodyguard on a very important mission—locate and eliminate the man responsible for sending your father's worst criminals to prison. Will you be able to keep it together, seeing felix every day for the next year? There's so much that could go wrong. You can't fall in love with him, he can't fall in love with you—that would be apocalypse.

Your lips, my lips Apocalypse Go and sneak us through the rivers Flood is rising up on your knees Oh, please Come out and haunt me, I know you want me

—Cigarettes After Sex, Apocalypse.

🎧 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 & 𝐂𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬 ⟶ @sunnysdiary

SEUNGMIN finally takes the chance to kiss you after yet another successful date. He's so scared of what you'll say he runs off, little did he know you wanted it just as much as he did.

But we couldn't go very far 'Cause you locked your keys in your car So you sat and stared at my lips And I could already feel your kiss

—Troye Sivan, Strawberries & Cigarettes

🎧 𝐏𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟶ @sunnysdiary

JEONGIN teases about proposing to you by proposing with paper rings, and when you least expect it, he actually does. With a real ring this time.

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh-huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and

—Taylor Swift, Paper Rings

⊹☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°｡ music to my eyes's fanfic genres ₊˚｡

🎧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 ⟶ rivals to lovers, fbi profiler!reader, fbi bodyguard!chan, fake dating for the sake of a mission, action, tension

🎧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 ⟶ shy!lee know, highschool!au, fluff, cute-awkward moments

🎧 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ⟶ marriage!au, fluff, period comfort

🎧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟶ red string theory, angst, hurt and comfort, author!reader, idol!hyunjin, strangers to lovers, very emotional

🎧 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 ⟶ mafia!au, bodyguard!au, enemies to lovers, heavy forbidden love, found family, mystery!au, hurt and comfort, action

🎧 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 & 𝐂𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬 ⟶ bf!seungmin, fluff, nervous seungmin

🎧 𝐏𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟶ dating!au, fluff x 1000.

⊹☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°｡ music to my eyes's taglist ₊˚｡

—@kissesmellow21

[wordbite]

guilty by wordbite

a responsive, single column, header/duo sidebar combination theme with an updates tab! features custom fonts, icons, colours & post sizing / spacing. fully npf supported!

live preview / code

[rosenkranz-isnt-dead]

To be honest, it’s Saturday, which means it’s time for an All Things essay.

This episode is usually overlooked and only discussed with regards to the off-screen consummation of Mulder and Scully’s relationship. When people do talk about it, they add the obligatory “well it’s not perfect, but-” which is ironic, considering that “perfect” x files episodes are a rarity as it is. It’s certainly an unusual episode, in the sense that there is no x file, Scully is not tortured, and Mulder isn’t compared to Jesus. But let’s dive a little deeper.

First of all, Scully centric episodes (especially ones that don't involve any of the following: 1) christianity 2) punishment for experiencing desire 3) grief 4) violation of her body) are incredibly rare. Scully, for once, is not robbed off her agency, and neither is she tied to Mulder. Here, she is not simply one half of the iconic skeptic/believer duo, she is her own person, free to make her own choices, free to say no. And, unlike in Never Again, her refusal doesn’t cause a scene (I’ve talked about my issues with Never Again here). 

When I was doing my research for Aletheia, I did some reading on the heart chakra. First of all, it doesn’t look like this

but rather like this

But, as Mulder said, the crop circle images were computer generated, so I’m choosing to interpret this as a commentary on AI fuckery lol. But other than an incorrect depiction of it, the rest pretty much checks out: this chakra allows you to love yourself, to develop your capacity to love others and to receive their love. We know this is something Scully struggled with. “I’ve never allowed myself to get too close to people. I’ve avoided emotional attachment,” she says in Christmas Carol. In En Ami, cancer man says something along the lines of “you would die for Mulder, but won’t let yourself love him”. Which is bullshit, of course, like everything in that episode, but I do think Gillian took that into account while writing All Things.  Apparently, an open heart chakra helps restore balance to the body and mind, and allows you to feel relaxed, connected and safe. I’d say this is an accurate description of Scully at the end of the episode. Also, the anahata chakra is associated with the color green, and we all remember Scully’s famous green sweater. I’ve seen posts making fun of Scully’s turn to Buddhism, but is this really more ridiculous than her being catholic, or were you just taught that one is better and more true than the other?

I also appreciate Gillian making references to some of the previous episodes. Her opening lines sound almost like Melissa’s in Christmas Carol:

And "forks in the road" sounds like a nod to Mulder and Scully’s conversation in Monday:

I think it's a nice touch, Scully finally being able to see things from her loved ones' perspective.

Now, let’s discuss something that the x files usually shies away from: queer themes. In All Things, we’re introduced to the first (and, if I’m not mistaken, the last) lesbian character on the show: Coleen. Well, and her girlfriend Carol.

Seeing Scully talk to and heed advice of a woman who isn’t related to her (though even that option was reduced to only her mother early on) is very refreshing. Scully, who at first dismissed Coleen as a New Age weirdo, comes to recognize herself in this woman and feel kinship with her. She feels much more comfortable in Coleen's presence than in the presence of Daniel, who still sees her as a lovestruck twenty-something. This episode is about Scully trying to find herself. Does she really want to spend her weekends, her life, in a basement with Mr Spooky? Wouldn’t she feel more secure working as a doctor, with a man like Daniel by her side? “I want everything I should want at this time in my life,” she tells Daniel. It’s a strange turn of phrase, which sounds like “I try to conform to societal expectations.” Now let’s get back to Coleen, who suppressed her whole identity so much that she became ill. This woman who Scully just met makes her feel seen, which I’m sure is a deliberate parallel with another crop circle-obsessed weirdo who saw right through her on their first meeting, especially considering this scene from the original script:

A lot has been said about the subversion of gender roles on the x files, but I’ll add my two cents too. In the hospital, Scully is forced into this stereotypically feminine role of a homewrecker. The two worlds – before and after she joined the FBI – collide. There are two choices: to continue being a deviant, being in a relationship that isn’t very conventional by societal standards, or to quit and become a doctor, while carrying guilt for something that wasn’t fully her fault. 

The resolution is beautiful, despite the silly montage. Just like Scully’s strict rationality saved Mulder, his crop circle mission saved Scully. Well, and Daniel, I suppose. And while I still have my queer goggles on, this (unfortunately cut) scene reads as Scully coming out:  

Remember Coleen, who was only able to heal once she stopped caring what her colleagues would think about her relationship with Carol? Pair this with Scully chasing that mysterious woman who turns out to be Mulder, and you have canon confirmation of Mulder and Scully being a lesbian couple.

Their conversation at the end feels like another nod to Monday:

This brings me back to Never Again: Scully rebelling against Mulder yet returning to him, feeling like she doesn't have a choice. Here, she chooses him. She's presented with a different path, and not only does she reject it, she dismisses it as "wrong". Never Again is about trauma, All Things is about healing.

It's an excellent episode in an otherwise pretty bleak season, with good pacing and beautiful visuals. The soundtrack works well too, props to Gillian Anderson for having a great taste in music. Weaving her favorite song into the story is a bold choice and I respect it, 10/10.