#both of them had the “i can make him worse” in them

[lexcys]

★ crimson tension rafe cameron x reader

summary: who knew rafe getting beat up and being vulnerable would end up giving him what he needed most - comfort

warnings: blood, wound description

a/n: ughh this took so long to write but it was worth it cuz I made myself giggle and kick my feet a few times. maybe this is a little cliche but I’m a sucker for these so sorry not sorry

loud music blasted over the speakers, laughter and unfamiliar voices rang around the manor, people spilled out from every room, clutching red plastic cups. the air was thick with the smell of beer and something sweet mixed with a faint undertone of sweat, the wide open doors leading to the cameron garden offered little relief, serving more as a passage to the outdoors than a true escape from the stifling atmosphere of tannyhill

the kitchen was a maze of half-empty bottles, red solo cups, and a few glasses perched on the edge of every counter. it was hard to believe none had shattered, considering the steady flow of people jostling past each other

right as you are about to take yet another shot you hear some barely audible shouting

curiosity overtaking your body faster than your mind and your legs start moving on their own accord, shot getting lost on the counter. making your way through the crowd but merely getting to the hallway as a mass of people block off the way and view to the living room, you hear a loud voice that undoubtedly belongs to rafe

whispers and 'oohs' pass through the crowd, before you notice rafe pushing past people with practiced ease, not bothering to acknowledge anyone as he moves forward. his focus unwavering, his movements deliberate as he makes his way toward you, a destination in mind

you catch a glimpse of the huge gash right above his eybrow - your eyes widen and you move towards him

after seeing his look and eyes you realize why he doesn’t react to you calling out his name - whatever substance he had taken prior was showing on his face, the haze clouding his expression, a disheveled look, glassy eyes with dilated pupils, fluoride stare as well as furrowed brows were noticeable as he brushes right past you

you glance around the room and the absence of attention on rafe doesn’t go unnoticed. you realise whoever had been on the other end of his rage must look worse - a chill runs down your spine imagining the ugly sight

being sarahs friends, tannyhill was not a foreign place for you so you knew where he was headed as he moved up the stairs

you hesitate but decide to follow him, once you’ve reached his room you rethink whether or not to knock, uncertainty creeping in but the worry gnaws at you too strongly - after calling out to him and getting no answer you enter the dimly lit room

the music dampens as you close his door. you pay no attention to his room, a already familiar space, your eyes immediately noticing him right ahead

the weight of the silence between you both grows heavier as you step closer, torn between reaching out and giving him space

he’s standing on his balcony, slumped onto the railing all though theres so much tension present in his shoulders that you can see it from a few meters away. his eyes are fixed on the ocean, the smoke lingering in the air making it evident that there was a cigarette resting between his fingers

he merely spares you a glance when you say his name again, turning around without muttering a single word

carefully you make your way toward him, situating yourself onto his right in complete silence, taking in the scene before you - the music has gotten louder and you look down at the people dancing below you, they payed absolutely no mind to rafe above them and in comparison to the loud laughs and voices the ocean before you was calm - the steady motion of the water, the endless horizon, seeming to soothe him

analysing his face you conclude that whatever fight had just occured - it was a heavy one - rafe had a busted lip, bruised knuckles, a bruise was already forming on his nose and the eybrow gash that was bleeding rather harshly. your face twists imagining how much his head must be throbbing

right now was not the time - but you also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he has never looked hotter

the moonlight hit his face just right, highlighting his tired eyes, making the blood adorning his face less unsettling, cigarette held between blood covered fingers, his knuckles bruised and bleeding, yet there’s something almost striking about the way his hands look, the way they’re still so perfectly shaped, even in their damaged state - his pain and his beauty so closely intertwined. even in this state, even with blood streaked across his face, there’s something undeniably captivating about him.

quickly pushing those thoughts aside you catch rafe looking at you for a second with a seemingly emotionless look, tension still present in his eybrows

you know he probably wanted to be left alone, his body language said it all. the desire to comfort him tugs at you, wanting to step forward and reach out, to brush your fingers along his jaw, to caress the sharpness of his stern yet tender face

''why are you here?'', he bites in a monotone tone, ripping you out of your thoughts

you clear your throat, ''I just wanted to see if you’re alright... maybe help you,” you say, the words feel awkward, out of place, like you’re intruding

his eyes snap to you, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something sharp, almost like a reflex. then, it morphs into a cold, bitter look of disgust. “I don’t need any help,” he mutters

''rafe you’re bleeding - badly'', you utter throwing a glance toward the gash which, even in bad lightning, was clearly deeper than he realized as it had oozed so much blood that it had almost covered the right side of his face. ''I just-'' you falter before sighing, ''I didn’t know what happened and I was concerned''

you weren’t entirely sure why you were confessing your concern - it wasn’t exactly something that came naturally with rafe cameron. the alcohol in your system seemed to loosen the edge

seemingly bother by you answer, not even sparing you a look he replies, ''I don’t need your pity, run back to sarah or something'' he motions you away with his hand

you bite your lip, clearly fighting a mental battle whether or not to leave him alone. you notice his hands shaking, not sure whether it was from anger pain or something else

slightly tipsy you gather the courage to ask once again, pushing his annoyance aside because you so desperately want to help him, feeling your heart hurt seeing him like this

you try one last time, ''your hands are shaking, you sure you can patch yourslef up? I really just wanna help you rafe. but if you really want me to go say it - then Ill leave'', finishing you realize how pathetic you sounded, internally cringing but hoping it would convince him and make him see that you really did care about him

silence

rafe looks at you quickly noticing your concerned face filled with worry, even though his look was quick you notice that it changed, something changed, but before you can even get close to figuring out what he turns back around and takes a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling up in the cool air, his gaze fixed straight ahead, not meeting yours again

he exhales slowly, the smoke drifting up in a haze, but the tension in the air thickens instead of easing

defeated, you turn away, the weight of the silence too much to bear. you don’t say anything, no last attempt to reach him

suddenly you hear a quiet ''wait'' from rafe, so faint it wouldn’t have been audible if you had taken two more steps

you turn your head around quickly, trying to figure out if he really just said that but when you catch him putting out his cigarette into the ashtray you realise that he did

he turns around as you take a few steps towards him. his face barely visible from his dark room - only illuminated lightly by the moonlight and the soft glow from the party below - holds a stern and tense look, his jaw clenched with tension, vulnerability present in his eyes

rafe still hasn’t said another word but you’re easily able to read his expression and figure out what he wants you to do

relief washing over you you exhale a big breath, ''okay where’s the med kit?''

''bathroom'', is the only thing he says, voice low, eyes still focused on you - unwavering

you turn around and step into the bathroom, the small space a contrast to the size of his bedroom. quickly you begin searching the cabinets, your mind already running through the steps you’d need to take. already thinking about where would be the best place to clean and dress his wound, somewhere where he can sit down, somewhere you can work without too much trouble - before finding the med kit under his sink

a subtle warmth creeps up your neck, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. you turn around noticing him standing in the doorway, leaning against the door - watching you with those empty yet pleading eyes before his gaze flickers over to the mirror - he’s lost in his reflection for a moment, studying himself

rafe stands there for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. then, with a quiet click, he closes the door behind him, fully stepping into the bathroom. the music muffles and the air between you tightens. you swallow, heart racing - you try to focus on the medkit in your hands. he moves past you slowly, sitting down on the toilet lid

right now, in the bright light of the bathroom, you’re finally able to see the full extent of his wounds as he holds his head up, avoiding your gaze. examining his wounds you settle on tending to his eyebrow first

you can tell that he’s not ready to talk about the fight or whatever happened. the air is heavy and something in his silence tells you not to push. so, you don’t, you stay quiet. setting the med kit down on the counter searching for the right tools, you feel suffocated by the silence, so awfully aware of every, rigid and nervous, breath you took

ready you turn back to rafe whose gaze is set onto the ground, still lost in thought - you try to clear your throat to catch his attention, to notify him that you’re ready and willing to tend to his wounds

he looks at you with a look, a look so vulnerable and hurt that it pulled at your heart. whatever he was just thinking must’ve hit him hard - the weight of it is there, written across his face, and you feel it in your chest. rafe’s eyes still carry that glassy, fluorid stare, as if he's still not fully aware of everything around him, making you wonder if he even realizes how much he’s letting slip

you figure that however you were to approach this - it would be awkward either way

you looked at him with a nervous look, alcohol-soaked cotton pad in hand - standing right in front of him, you hesitated as your eyes met his. he lifts his head a little farther up for you to get better access to his wounds. rafe is leaning forward, legs spread with his forearms resting on his knees, crossing his hands slightly in front of him infront - still at an awkward length until he fully uncrosses his hands, resting them on his knees. you waited, unsure if you’re allowed to enter the space, looking for a look of approval in his distant eyes. he nods - the faintest movement of his head, barely visible

his eyes carry a look that’s hard to read, an expression that makes you wonder if there’s a storm raging inside his mind or if he’s drifting into an unsettling emptiness

settling in between his knees - still trying to keep some sort of distance, unsure what was or wasn’t crossing the line, you bring the cotton pad up to his face. you gently start cleaning off the, mostly already, dried blood before moving on to his gash. the second it hits his skin again his eyes - which have been avoiding yours from the second he nodded - close, his jaw clenching pain evident although he tried not to show it, putting up some sort of barrier to, even in this vulnerable state, seem unbothered - strong

while cleaning you notice his hands, resting on his knees, and fingers lightly grazing against the fabric of your shorts, the lightest of touches—almost like a subconscious gesture. it’s a small movement, barely noticeable, but the tension it creates fills the space between you

you focus on your task, but it’s harder now, your hand faltering slightly with each light graze of his fingers

the delicate movement of his fingers almost like a distraction from the physical discomfort he’s trying to hide so well. it makes you wonder if he’s trying to ground himself, or if he’s just too lost in the moment to notice what he’s doing

after cleaning everything off in the best way you could you apply some zip stitches to at least momentarily close the wound. his breath hitches as you press the last stitch into place, but he doesn’t move or make a sound, the mask of stoic restraint still firmly in place

you couldn’t figure out if rafe was actually aware that he was pulling you closer to himself

by the time you were ready to clean his lip the distance between you was so minimal that you could barely clean it properly. the closeness making every slight movement feel amplified now, the soft brush of his breath, the faint tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flicker between avoiding yours and briefly meeting your gaze

you gently press the cotton to his lip, your fingers grazing his skin in the process. the way his gaze flicks up to meet yours for a split second makes your heart skip, throwing off your rhythm.

you hesitate for a moment, your heart racing in the silence between you. the closeness is overwhelming, and you know you need to steady yourself, to find a way to regain control. your fingers tremble slightly as you lift your hand, almost instinctively, and you gently place it on the side of his face. the warmth of his skin is a shock, he lets out a soft exhale which you wouldn’t have noticed if you werent holding his face with your hand - but he doesn’t pull away.

you angle his face just enough to get a better view, but the movement feels more like an anchor for yourself, the subtle pressure of your hand on his skin keeps you tethered, even as the air between you thickens with something unsaid

you press the pad to his lip slowly, careful and deliberate, but your fingers linger on his skin longer than necessary, your thumb lightly brushing the edge of his jaw. his breath brushes against you, warm and shallow

it’s hard to focus with the way his gaze lingers on you, the way your hand feels on his face

his lips part quickly as you tend his wound - the area lightly swollen, thankfully not comparable to his eyebrow gash

you finish tending to his face, placing a last small plaster, hurting at the loss of contact. you take a look back and admire your work and him. the quiet stillness between you both feels oddly heavy, but the comfort of knowing he’s patched up - protected for now - settles in

you dread saying the words a loud, not wanting to lose this moment, not wanting to end it - not sure what it even was

''done''

the hands behind you tighten their grip, slowly pulling you even closer, eliminating the space between you. your body freezes for a second - caught off guard. his head reasts on your upper body, sending a wave of warmth through you, and for a moment, you're aware of every breath, every beat of your heart

his breath is steady, slow, but there’s an unmistakable force in the way he holds you, a quiet urgency that makes your mind go blank

his grip, though firm, isn't forceful - more like an unspoken invitation, urging you, pleading you, to stay within the space he's created. he held on with such a purpose - it made it seem like you would evaporate the second he let go

you place one hand gently in his hair, testing the waters, seeing if he'd be comfortable with you running your fingers through it. the other one rests on his back

rafe flinches when you tryto pull him closer, putting pressure on his back

you let the moment linger for a few seconds more before speaking up, breaking the comforting silence which rested between you, ''rafe let me see your back''

he pulls back and looks at you for a second, his look completely unreadable. this time he complied. he stands up with a slow, deliberate motion and turns around. he lifts his shirt as far up as he could, pain clearly holding him back. gently taking hold of the shirt from his hand, you ease the fabric upward, careful to avoid causing him any more pain as you lift it higher

his back is painted with all sorts of colours - some bruises worse than others. you flinch at the sight, although you’re a little relieved to see no cuts

seeing there is nothing you can do you let his shirt fall back down, very carefully smoothing it on his back - hoping to provide some comfort with the soft touch

as you move next to him to rest a hand on his bicep, you ask him with a hushed voice, ''can I get you a new shirt'', meeting his gaze, ''yours is full of blood''

fully aware that the line that was not to be crossed has now become blurred

rafe nodded

you leave his side, moving to his drawer - your fingers fumble slightly as you sift through the clothes, searching for a shirt. you pick out a loose one, one that would not press against his back too much or that would be a struggle to put on

he now sat on his bed, patiently waiting for you, watching you

you turn back to him, seeing his eyes, his expression. a storm of thoughts no longer visible, only exhaustion

''is this one okay?'' you questioned. he nodded before clearing his throat and lowering his gaze, ''can you help me put it on'', clearly exhausted

you pull hisshirt up slowly, carefully and for a moment you’re stunned, staring in silence. the sight that greets you is just as shocking as it is heartbreaking - his chest is as bruised as his back

rafe is clearly avoiding your eyes, looking to his left with a tense jaw

without saying another word you pull the other shirt over his head, standing before him, ''are you gonna go back down?''

he replies with a shake of his head, ''no''

you quietly stars at him for a few seconds more, debating how to continue then letting your legs carry you towards the bathroom to clean up. but just as you turn to leave, you feel his hand snap out, gripping your wrist with a force that sent a jolt through your body. the touch was immediate, urgent, as though he couldn’t let you go. but then, as quickly as it had come, his grip softened, the tension draining away as he loosened his hold

your eyes flicker back to him

“stay”

[questionablehuman444]

THANK YOU. Someone put my thoughts into the correct words, and it makes me thoroughly happy.

Dick definitely has eldest daughter syndrome, but Tim was "really mature for his age"

(more below cut)

Okay, Dick holds the weight of the world on his shoulders as the oldest. He's the one everybody goes to when they're having problems with Bruce. He's the "trusted adult". He's the guy who has the ability to get people to open up, and let him help them. It weighs on him a lot as a result.

Dick feels that if he isn't constantly there for people, then he's failing, not only as a hero but as a brother and a friend. (I could also talk about how he leans into the himbo persona because his self esteem is a tripping hazard in hell, but that's for another time)

Then, you look at Tim. He's self sufficient, he's easy, and he's smart. Tim has gifted child syndrome. People think that since he's more mature, he can handle more. So they start treating him like an adult and whenever it's convenient, they double back to treat him like a kid.

So often, the adults in his life were emotionally inept, and their love for him was so often conditional. He had to grow up quick because nobody else wanted to.

Something I think about is how, despite Dick and Tim having similar experiences and bearing the weight of the world, they don't want to hurt each other more. Dick doesn't want to fuel Tim's gifted kid syndrome and Tim doesn't wanna fuel Dick's eldest daughter syndrome. They can't talk to each other because they're aware of the other person's situation, and don't want to continue fueling the other person's problems when, in reality, it would probably be the best course of action for the two of them.

They're so afraid of making the other's problems worse by talking, that they're don't realize that they're actually just harming the both of them. They fail to realize that they're stripping away the only other person who could fully understand in a way beyond just comprehending the words and feelings being told, the only other person who knows the family on a personal level and can empathize from a place of mutual feelings. They taking away the one person who *Gets It* fully and completely.

Anyway, sorry for rambling, I really like talking about things like this. Thanks for reading if you made it this far lol. I had a lot of fun writing all this.

Dick is for the eldest sibling while Tim is for the parentified children and I think that's the most important difference between them

[prozacwhorehouse]

paparazzi | mgg x SNL cast member gf

Summary: comments from the paparazzi instill doubt in you, but Matthew is there as a voice of reason

this was a request but it got deleted when I was making edits so I hope this finds its way to that lovely person !

—————————————————————————

pre and post show paparazzi outside the studio wasn’t uncommon. but when speculation that you and Matthew were dating blossomed, they got more incessant and difficult to ignore. it seemed as if they were always around, with the intention of spotting the two of you and documenting it. they were constantly nagging for answers and details about your relationship, most specifically mentioning the age gap.

the both of you knew it’d would be hard for some people to understand, but the idea that you were both legal consenting adults seemed more logical and would be accepted easier. originally, you had kept the relationship private - wanting the intimate moments to be kept to yourselves, only for yourselves. eventually the love becomes to great to hide, so you started dropping hints to the public. hints weren’t enough, there were always the small few who liked to dig a little deeper, push sensitive buttons - almost always internet trolls, or worse, in person paparazzi.

no matter what, they’ll always jab at the age gap. it’s always flashing cameras followed by comments, from “your relationship is inappropriate” “she’s young enough to be your daughter” and even, “is you dating an older man rooted in daddy issues?”

a video of the interaction goes viral and all the comments are offering support for the two of you:

they are both consenting adults. those who can’t accept that need to grow up and mind their own business.

these poor angels. the paparazzi is disgusting, ill never understand why it’s still a thing

they’re both grown leave them the fuck alone

daddy issues?? holy shit. the pap is getting so much worse.

two talented people reduced to their relationship. do better

you knew accepting a job on television came with its consequences, but you weren’t going to let people who get paid to be nosy stand in the way of your dream. so, with time you had learned how to handle paparazzi with ease. what was typically praise now being sprinkled with hate, it got harder and harder to ignore.

because the more someone says something about you, the more you start to believe it.

why is he with me? is this weird? am i wrong? is he wrong?

Whenever Matthew happened to be with you during these paparazzi incidents, he’d always guide you through the crowd by the small of your back or your hand. Weaving through people wordlessly, only whispering assurances into your ear, squeezing your hand to calm your heart beating in your ears.

—————————————————————————

The whole ride home to your apartment is silent. With Matthew, you two are always talking, always sharing thoughts, making the occasional silence reason for concern.

“Are you okay? You din’t say more than a word or two at a time not the way home,” he says while shutting the apartment door behind him.

“Are we, wrong?” you turn to gaze up at him through your lashes, the look on your face hurt.

“What do you mean, angel?” he croons, concern and confusion blossoming across his face.

“Like,” you pause and scoff, trying to find the words for your question. “Is what we’re doing wrong. Being together.”

“Do you not want to do it anymore? Cause we don’t have to-” his face turns to worry, your heart dropping at the thought of him thinking you’d say anything other than no. because no matter what anyone says, he’s so in love with you he can’t even imagine losing you.

“no! oh my gosh, no.” you’re quick to assure, holding his face in your hands. it’s just exhausting. why are they so concerned with our lives? can they not just-“

“you love me?” he interrupts, looking at you intently.

“what?” you scoff in disbelief, pulling back slightly. “of course I do - why?”

“because I love you. And that’s all that matters, yeah?” he brushes his thumb across your cheek, gazing into your eyes so lovingly. he always looks at you that way.

“It could be worse. They could be comparing me to Leonardo DiCaprio,” he smiles, causing the corners of your mouth to turn up, “and I’m definitely not DiCaprio level.”

“If you were, you would’ve dropped me when I turned 25,” you snicker and he sighs, throwing his head back.

“You’re funny, you know that?”

“I’d hope so. It’s kind of my job.”

—————————————————————————

mgg x SNL cast member taglist

@sarcasm-and-stiles @mystargirl-interlude @rubyirene @ashrrams @ghostatrixx @forevermorepassionate @saint-boudica @reidmarieprentiss @awakeforu @spencerlicious @kittycat-april @baudarling @delusional-4-fake-people @avenlymars @angelinajolie0213 @arusio @littleslayofhorrors @jezabelle9299 @jaemnationnn @princess-ofthe-pages @flow33didontsmoke

[sungbeam]

𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

nonidol!yoon jeonghan x gn!reader

2.3k words, fluff, comfort, reader is sick, technically a college au, light swearing, mentions of food, mentions of cold medication, tbh i know i advocate for platonic fics but i am also just a girl. so he does pine a little lol, slice-of-life-ish, barely proofread

a/n: there is like no plot, i just am feeling ooey-gooey about svt rn heh :') been watching so much gose recently and it's healing my soul

Yoon Jeonghan was many things, but oblivious was not one of them. “Oh my god, you're sick,” were his first words to you when you opened your apartment door. His voice was droning, perfectly unimpressed, but it masked the concern attempting to skirt its way to the surface. 

“It's not that” —your sorry attempt at denial crumbled like a house of cards as you turned away to cough into your elbow. The taste of metal lingered in the back of your throat and you winced, reaching into your bag to grab your water bottle. After swallowing down a generous helping, you said to him without looking him in the eye, “I'm fine.”

Jeonghan blinked. “That's really cute,” he replied with a thin smile. “Back inside.”

“But Jeonghan—”

“No.” He grabbed you firmly by your shoulders and steered you back into your apartment, his body waddling in behind you because of your balking in the doorway. He kicked the front door shut, shucking his shoes off with uncanny accuracy into an empty space on the shoe rack. “Shoes off, Yn-ah. Don't start an argument you won't win.”

You grumbled under your breath, but did as you were told. All the while, Jeonghan smoothed a hand over his jaw, performing mental gymnastics. How did you get sick? How much time did he have before he needed to get to campus? Could he reasonably make you soup before he needed to leave for his exam?

The first question was easy to answer. He internally smacked himself—last night: your runny nose, the vitamin C powder you added to your water, your shivers on the walk home from the library. Oh, fuck. He should have driven. Why did he make you both walk in that cold?

Guilt coursed through him as he directed you back into your bedroom. 

It was a quarter to 8, meaning he didn't have time to make you ramen and make it to his exam before the doors closed. 

“I have so much shit to do today” —another horrid cough rattled through you, and Jeonghan frowned to himself as he snatched the extra blanket out of your closet— “I can't… Hannie, there's so much I need to—”

“I know, Yn-ah,” he said softly, eyes sad and tender as he bundled you up in three layers until you were likely unable to unwrap yourself. He perched by your side, his palm grazing over your forehead to take your temperature. Hot. Not good. “But if you don't take care of yourself now, it'll only get worse.”

He glanced at his phone. Five to 8—he still had fifteen minutes. It was a blessing that you lived closer to campus than he did. 

“I hate when you're right,” you muttered. The lower half of your face was tucked beneath the edges of your blankets, so all he saw were your tired, glaring eyes. 

He smirked to himself, a fuzziness warming his chest. So petulant. “You always do,” he mused. “What did you have to do today? I'll try and help out as best I can.”

Your glare softened at the corners and your eyes flitted away from him. “It's okay. I'll deal with it all when I wake up. I—wait.” Your eyes shot wide open. “You have that exam today! You have to leave—what time is it?”

“Yah, I'll make it,” he laughed. “Worry about yourself.”

“You literally said last night that you were worried about failing—”

“And now I'm worried about you,” he countered. Satisfaction brought an impish twinkle to his eyes as you scowled at him again. “But fine, I'll leave if you insist.”

He rose from the edge of the bed, picking his backpack up to sling over his shoulder. 

“Thank you.”

With his back toward you, he could allow himself to grin. “What was that?” he called back innocently. 

“Don't fail.”

He huffed out another laugh as he reached the threshold of your bedroom doorway. Jeonghan wondered briefly if he should coax that thank you out of your mouth again, but he really did need to leave. It was awful. Everything in him was ready to throw away this exam to stay here with you. “Go to sleep, honey. I'll see you when you wake up.”

Three hours later, Jeonghan shouldered his way into your apartment, his backpack on his shoulders, his mind far away from that disgusting exam he finished, and his hands occupied with a grocery bag of items he picked up on his way here. When he left earlier, he had swiped your keys on the way out so he could let himself back in without waking you up. He dumped those very keys onto the table by the door, the gazillion key chains attached to the one carabiner clattering inelegantly loud. 

He glanced over at your closed door, hoping he didn't just wake you up. 

With a little less noise, he abandoned his backpack by the couch and made his way over to the kitchen. While he had made it in time to his exam, it had taken more willpower to center his attention on the exam itself rather than letting his mind wander to all the things he wanted to do after he was done. The to-do list spanned about five items: buy cold medicine and orange juice, decide on what food to make you, buy the ingredients for that food, persuade your TA to let him pick up your graded essay (that one, he saw on a sticky note by your desk), and come back to take care of you. 

(If the TA grading his exam took note of the small list he'd jotted down in the top corner of page five, no they didn't.)

There had been several ideas of what he could make you once he was free. He had stared at the row of vegetables in the produce department for a good ten minutes before he decided on something less usual. He could make instant ramen, but that didn't seem like the healthiest option for him to feed you. There was also seaweed soup—did he have the time to go to another store to find what he needed? No. 

His next great idea was something simple, but delicious: chicken noodle soup. 

Jeonghan rummaged around your cabinets, locating the things he needed—cutting board, knife—he opened a door and sighed to himself. So you did have pasta already. Great. 

He examined the box of dried elbow macaroni and compared it to the bowtie pasta he'd picked out. “Mine’s better,” he muttered, shelving your macaroni and bumping the cabinet closed. 

In the largest pot he could find, he brewed up a hearty chicken soup, using the bones from the rotisserie chicken he bought to add more richness to the broth's flavoring. Every carrot, onion, and celery stalk he sliced, and every piece of chicken he shredded, was done deftly and with great care. This was for you, after all, and if this soup could help you get better, then he would make it the best damn thing you'd ever tasted. 

There were plenty of things Jeonghan didn't want to do or weaseled his way out of, but he could be running on one hour of sleep, and he would still haul his ass up to make kimchi from scratch if you asked him to. 

He was stationed behind the stove, tasting the soup for adjustments, when he heard your bedroom door open. 

Jeonghan peered over his shoulder and smiled at the bundle of blankets waddling your way out into the main room, your hair sticking up in odd places, and your eyes still at half mast. “Good morning, sleepy head. How're you feeling?”

“Meh,” you said hoarsely, clearing your throat. You squinted at the sunlight streaming in through the open curtains. “What're you making? It smells nice.”

“Hm? Oh, I made you some soup. Go take the medicine on the counter and sit down; I'll bring you a bowl.”

As he reached over to grab another pinch of salt, he heard you tearing open the box of cold medicine behind him. 

A moment passed by of quiet, but his heart leapt straight into his throat as he felt a soft weight rest against his back. “Thank you, Hannie,” you murmured, forehead pressed between his shoulders. 

There were about a dozen things running through his mind at the moment—things he could say, things he could do. He was an ounce of willpower away from melting on the spot, but the heat rising from the soup pot kept him upright. “Aish… thank me by getting better, okay?”

You hummed in acknowledgment and lifted yourself off his back. When you hobbled away to sit down at the table, Jeonghan couldn't brush away the feeling that the spot your head had rested was now cold. 

“How was the” —cough— “the exam?” 

Jeonghan glanced over at you as he carefully ladled soup into two bowls. He hummed, “Could've been better, but can't really do anything about it now.”

“I'm sure you did good,” you replied, holding out your hands like a kid waiting for their turn to get candy from a jar as Jeonghan made his way over to you with the soup. “You always say you did bad when you actually scored in the top ten percent.”

“Careful, honey, it's hot.” Jeonghan continued to hold the bowl even as you cupped it in your hands, until it safely reached the table. Only then did he seat himself down adjacent to you. “Yeah, well, you always said I should be more humble,” he joked.

You picked up your spoon and gestured at him with it. “Humility and lying are different things,” you said pointedly. “Anyways, thank you. This looks really yummy.”

“I don't lie,” he drawled with a twinkle in his eye. He leaned his cheek against his fist and watched as you took a spoonful and gently blew on the hot liquid. The delight that lit up your face was enough to make him happy for a century. He inclined his chin. “Good?”

“Very good. Sometimes I forget that you're good at cooking, too.”

“Not like Mingyu though,” he chuckled and brought a spoonful up to his lips. 

You shot him a look. “You don't always have to compare yourself, Hannie-ah. I'm not talking about Mingyu right now.”

Maybe I just want to make sure, he thought, then brushed it under that large, metaphorical rug in his mind. Jeonghan gave a half-hearted shrug. 

Your mouth flattened into a displeased line. His grin widened. 

When the both of you finished as many helpings as you had the appetite for, Jeonghan graciously offered to wash the dishes. He practically anchored you to the couch by wrapping you in yet another blanket—it was a double-edged sword; you were quite cute like that and he had half the mind to ditch the dishes. Once done with his task, he plucked out a dose of cold medication to take for himself, as well. 

You eyed him from the couch as he swallowed the pills with a glass of orange juice. “Did I get you sick already?” you asked, your voice having become more nasally from your stuffy nose. 

“Not yet,” he said, “it's just preventative measures since I'm gonna be hanging around you.”

“You're not leaving?” 

Your words were one thing, but the way you peered over the back of the couch at him and the upward intonation in your voice told him something else. He smiled to himself as he walked over to the couch with his juice. “No, I was going to help you finish your work for the day, but if you want me to leave, I—”

“Only if you're not afraid of getting sick,” you said quickly. 

He sighed with an air of melodrama. “I suppose I can stay after all.” He brought out his laptop and the essay he finagled from your TA, vaguely mentioning something about his careful white lies in order to accomplish his mission. It was truly something only Jeonghan could pull off and get away with. 

The first item on your to-do list was to send out a couple emails. 

Jeonghan felt the weight of your head fall onto his shoulder, and he glanced down at you in amusement. “You're not falling asleep on me, are you?” he teased, his fingers paused from the email he was typing out while you dictated the wording. 

You shifted your head. “No, I'm still awake. Do you think this sounds too bubbly?”

“It’s not too bubbly,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “But the thing is you're not this agreeable in real life—aish! Haha, hey! Don't hit me!”

He could imagine your cute, little scowl. “I am incredibly agreeable.”

“Yes, yes.” Jeonghan lightly pat your head. “You're very lovely, Yn-ah.”

You chose to ignore the impish tone in his voice. It was what he wanted you to do anyway—believe that he thought you were lovely.  

It was difficult to parse out how much time passed, but at some point, the TV was turned on to a random channel playing some 90s sitcom, and his laptop was ditched on the coffee table. Jeonghan's legs ended up sprawled across the length of the couch while your layers of blankets covered both of you. Your head rested comfortably on his chest as he continued to watch TV in silent contentment.

Jeonghan was a lot of things, but he certainly wasn't oblivious to the fact that you took the wrong cold medicine. The box he bought had both daytime and nighttime meds, the latter of which contained melatonin to aid with uninterrupted sleep. He didn't say anything earlier when he realized, but it wasn't like he could say anything now. 

He glanced down at your face, his hand cupping the back of your head with too much tenderness for friendship. You were asleep; there was nothing he could do, no jokes to make or fun to poke. 

Him, his thoughts, and you. 

But this was fine. He was happy and warm like the perfect bowl of soup filling an empty stomach, and he had no intention of leaving until he knew that you were better. As his eyes slowly drooped closed, he sank further into the blankets and your hold, soul nourished.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed <3

svt m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @meosjinnn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @floatingpluto @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @eunseok-s @bless-311 @leaz-kpop-life @fluorescentloves @thesunsfullmoon @haechansbbg @kpopjackie @jundundun @http-gyu @mars101 @moonyswolf @honeyrecommends @synthwxve @thecarnivaloflies @p-d1ddy @thatonedemigodfromseoul @foivetimesthecharm

[lungsandlips]

Short of his parents no one had ever really asked what they could do for him in his worst moments. Of course Kade didn't really let anyone in and most people who knew what he dealt with only knew because they needed to and he wasn't about to get into all the little details with him. Chloe asking meant she cared. Not that he doubted that but he could sense the concern. "Sometimes I'm just gonna need you to let me ride it out. Like, look... imagine you've got two voices in your head. One is screaming at you that something is wrong. It's loud, it's repeating itself. It's insisting if you do this thing then this other thing will happen. Then the other voice, it's much quieter, is more logical and is telling you that you know that first voice is just making shit up. That's what it's like in my head sometimes. I very often know that what is happening is not logical, that nothing is going to happen to me. But when it gets bad sometimes I listen to the louder voice and I can't help that." He shrugged. "You just gotta trust me during those times, know that I will eat when I can if food is the issue at hand. Ordering a bunch of stuff or giving me a lot of options in the moment is mostly just going to overwhelm me. I keep a lot of protein shakes and fruit and nuts and things like that on hand because they're typically safe foods for me. I do also tend to trust junk food but if I eat nothing but that... there's no nutritional value, I'm just making it worse." Feeling like he explained it the best he could, Kade took a couple more bites before he was also finished. "Full, not put off. I promise." Standing up he moved to rewrap both burritos so he could stick them in the fridge as there was a chance he might eat them later. "Thank you for asking how to help though. It means a lot that you care."

Nodding as he set a time to call his mom. With a smile on her face she said, "Good, it gives me a change to pay." and winked before reaching for her coffee. Leaning on her elbows, she focusing intently on his answer. She wanted to remember whatever he was about to say. "Hm," she hummed, that was a bit of a dead end. "What can I do then?" She asked point blank, "When things get really bad, I mean." Chloe didn't want to resort to calling Grace whenever Kade hit a rough patch. She smiled gently, liking the idea that this cafe could be their restaurant. He and his parents had the fancy place, and they had Dalina. "Do I order breakfast burritos? I want to help you in times where you don't know how to help yourself." she explained, "But I don't want to overstep, I don't want to push you into another panic attack." She said realizing her words. Putting down the other half of her burrito, she let out a sigh hoping he wouldn't start trying to convince her she wasn't at least some fault or trigger of last night. "Wow, I'm full. I'm never able to finish all these." She stated, "You can have it later if you get hungry."

[no-144444]

the grid: when they admit they love you!

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featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!

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Oscar Piastri: fumbling and scared 

You sat at the reception of McLaren, and every single day he was terrified of making a fool of himself. You were the cool, pretty receptionist he’d already gone on 3 dates with, and this Friday he was going to ask you to officially be his girlfriend. The conversation between you two flowed easily when it was just you two, but with other people there… he was less than smooth. Your desk mate, the other receptionist had a knack for gossip, and she was kind of scary, she he tried to steer clear of her when he could. 

“Morning,” you smiled as he walked in the door. 

“Morning,” he smiled back, leaning on your desk. “How are you?”

You started signing him into the building (he ‘lost’ his access card months ago, aka he threw it away and didn’t try to get a new one, just so he could have some reason to talk to you). “I’m good, looking forward to Friday,” you smiled. “You?”

He beamed, grinning like a kid. “Me too.”

“Oscar!” Chris (the guy who has the biggest crush on you ever) clapped a hand on his back, much too hard. “Buddy, I got you a new access-card! Now you can stop bothering the pretty lady here, right?”

“Chris, it’s no bother, I do it every morning-” you tried to diffuse the situation. You didn’t exactly want Osccar to have to deal with Chris, he was such an asshole.  

“Yeah, but it’s one less thing off your plate baby,” he winked at you and Oscar felt something twist in his stomach when you grimaced at the pet name. 

“Don’t call her that,” he told him. “She has a name, it’s Y/n. Use her name.” 

“Dude, I know you wouldn’t get it, but some people date other people,” Chris chuckled like a scumbag. “And me and her are together, so back off.”

Oscar laughed. He actually laughed in your co-workers face. “You’re funny, man.”

Chris laughed along. “I know right.” 

Oscar took the access card from him, leaned over the desk and pressed his lips to yours, like he’d done many times before, and carried on to his meetings. Chris stood there shocked, then walked back to his desk like a wounded puppy. 

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Friday rolled around and you were both sat on his couch watching Cars, when he turned to you. “I’m sorry about Monday,” he admitted. “I know it wasn’t the right thing to do and it probably made it worse but I just-”

“It worked,” you told him. “He hasn’t spoken to me all week, but he has been trying to report you to HR for me, but every time he does I just tell them I didn’t make the claim and then report Chris for being weird. It worked perfectly. He’s such a dick,” you chuckled. 

He watched you as you chuckled, the way your nose scrunched, the flyaway hairs on your forehead framing your face, your soft lips, you gorgeous eyes. “I love you,” he said, softly, but you looked up with wide-eyes all the same. He’d shocked himself too. “OHmygodIamsosorryIknowit’swaytooearlyand-”

You just started laughing, literally falling into his lap. You laughed against his chest and after a moment, he joined you. 

“You’re such a dork,” you smiled brightly as you ran a hand through his hair, then gently caressed his cheek. “I love you too.”

He beamed. “Can I be your boyfriend?” 

You nodded, then kissed him gently. Cars and a pretty girl as his girlfriend? Could his Friday night get any better? 

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Lando Norris: sweet and sincere (for once)

He watched as you walked from the edge of the water into it, splashing around with Mila. It was your first Norris family holiday, and yeah, maybe he had lied to you and told you it would just be you two to trick you into meeting his family only 5 months into your relationship. Maybe you were super mad at him to the point of barely speaking to him unless in the group. But also, maybe Lando was watching the love of his life play with his niece, and maybe he didn’t care that he’ just called you that. 

“Lala!” Mila called, running up to him. “I really like Y/n, can we keep her?” 

You came up behind her, chuckling lightly at her statement. He stared at you for a moment. You were sunkissed (and a little sunburn on your nose), with a bright smile, wet hair and a beautiful blue swimsuit on. You looked ethereal to him. So stunningly gorgeous that he barely knew what to say. 

“Come on kiddo, let’s grab you a snack,” you picked back up your smile and started to walk over to his sister, sitting under another umbrella with all the snacks and drinks in the world. Lando just stared at you when Mila asked. You’d thought that him inviting you on a family holiday would mean something, you must’ve thought wrong. 

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As dinner rolled around, the conversation flowed smoothly as the sun set on the horizon. 

“I’m going to go for a walk on the beach front,” you told the table once meals were finished. They waved you off and off you went. The beautiful sea and stars in the sky caught your attention as your red dress flowed in the wind. It was magical, the warm air, the magnificent views, all of it. The sand beneath your feet was warming your feet and you stopped to look out on the ocean. The soothing, calm waves with the scent of salt made you smile. You’d always loved the beach. 

“You look beautiful,” Lando’s voice made you jump, and you searched for him until you realised he was right beside you. 

“Thank you,” you smiled softly. He wrapped a hand around your waist and turned you to face him. 

He’d been quiet at dinner, too busy trying to think of how to get you to talk to him again, and how he could finally confess his love for you. It was almost overwhelming, the fact that he was in love. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that it was a family trip,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You sighed. “It was pretty shitty…” you reminded him. “But I’ve been having fun with them. You come from good people. Makes sense.”

He smiled brightly at your compliment and pressed his forehead against yours. “Thank you for not leaving once you found out.”

You chuckled. “No problem.”

“I adore you,” he admitted. “More than anything. I fucking love you.”

Your eyes widened and you stood there with your jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath and he giggled. 

“You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just wanted to tell you,” he clarified, once he’d stopped laughing. 

You smiled at him, chuckling. “I love you too, Lando, of course I do. Even when you do stupid shit like invite me to a family holiday.” 

He laughed, burying his face in your neck. “I already said ‘I’m sorry’!”

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George Russell: of course���

He smiled as he crossed the finish line, finally  winning another race. 

“Well done George!” his engineer cheered, congratulating him as the garage erupted into celebrations. 

When he was finally out of the car, all interviews were over, and all that was left was to take a few team photos, he was given a moment to seek you out. You’d hugged you at the barricade, but since then he hadn’t seen you. You were busy signing things for fans, little girls who wanted to be ‘just like you’ one day. You smiled and told them they would be, that their dreams of being olympic gymnasts weren’t far-fetched. He smiled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He was covered in champagne, and you groaned, making the small group of girls laugh. 

“George!” you groaned, pushing him off.

“What?” he smirked, pulling you back in. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, as the group of girls moved on with a giggle and a wave. “You look stunning.”

“You’re wet,” you dead-panned. “Congratulations, winner.”

He grinned. “I love you.”

You stared at him for a moment, a gentle disbelief in your eyes. “Really?”

“More than anything.”

“Not just because you're drunk on champagne?”

“Nope, I genuinely love you,” he chuckled. “Sorry,” he shrugged, unapologetic. 

You beamed, then kissed him. “I love you more.”

He shook his head. “Not possible.” 

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Kimi Antonelli: nervous 

He smiled as he opened the door to his apartment and found you on the other side. 

“Ready?” you asked, holding up a very big paint can, and some rollers. He had asked you to help him decorate his new apartment, in Monaco, and you’d thankfully agreed. You, his girlfriend / race engineer, had also just moved to Monaco, next door, in fact.

He let you in and you both began to set up the room, tarping the hardwood floors, taping off the skirting boards, and enjoying the soft music and sunny weather outside the window. You finally opened the paint and got to work. He thought you looked adorable, actually wearing paint-splattered overalls (courtesy of you repainting your entire apartment just a week ago), with a concentrated face. His eyes followed you across the room, meticulously taping every inch of the skirting board, making sure that none of the blue paint would ruin the white. 

“What?” you asked, looking back at him. 

He blushed and shook his head, finally understanding the emotions he felt for you everyday. He loved you. “Nothing.”

You raised an eyebrow and walked over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. “You sure?”

He nodded, much too nervous to tell you. He looked away, pretending to be engrossed in messing with your pockets. 

You shrugged, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Alright,” you let go of him and walked back to the side of the room that you were working on. 

He’d tell you, one day. 

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Lewis Hamilton: smooth about it

He smirked as you walked out from your bedroom, clad in one of his shirts and some tiny sleep-shorts, excited about finally sitting down to watch the movie. It had been a difficult triple-header, and he hadn’t been around. But finally, the season was over, and he could invite you over to start enjoying the Christmas festivities. He loved this. He loved the casual, regular things you two did. He liked the way you cuddled up to him on the couch, he loved the way he knew you’d definitely fall asleep before the film ended, he loved you-

Oh.

He loved you. 

He chuckled and you looked at him confused. 

“You alright?” 

He chuckled. “All good baby,” he nodded, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“What was that about?” you questioned further, putting the remote down. He ran a hand through your hair, looking at you with all the love in the world. 

“Just love you,” he shrugged as your jaw dropped. He chuckled, watching a million emotions run through you. 

“You’re such a dick!” you playfully hit him on the shoulder. “I wanted to say it first!”

He laughed and pulled you into his arms, holding you closer. “I’m sorry baby.”

You scoffed. “No you’re not.”

He shook his head. “No I’m not.” 

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Alex Albon: oh… yah. 

He sighed as he opened the door to his driver’s room. He was exhausted, another race down, another weekend closer to the end of this. 

“Hey,” you smiled. 

His mood picked up, knowing you were there. His best friend. “Hey,” he smiled, pulling you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Surprise?” you shrugged. “I wanted to come see you.” 

He smiled, pressing his face into your neck inhaling the smell of your perfume, feeling much more at ease than he did before. “I thought you couldn’t make it today.”

“I did, but I won't be able to be in Qatar or Abu Dhabi,” you admitted, breaking the bad news. You could feel him frown. 

“Why not?”

“I'm busy for the next two weeks with work. Then I have the whole couples retreat thing and then-”

“Pardon? Couples retreat?”

“This guy I’m seeing is saying we should go, I think it’s a swinging thing though, I’m not exactly into it. But non refundable tickets and I would like a holiday before I have to deal with our families all Christmas,” you explained with a chuckle.

His world crumpled around him. “You’re seeing someone?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he’s… nice,” you smiled. “Don’t worry, you won’t be meeting him for a while, he’s not even my boyfriend yet-”

You stopped talking because he’d started kissing you. He hadn’t really connected the dots before. He liked how close your families were, he liked being your best friend, he liked being around you all the time. He liked being the person you’d come to about things. He didn’t like other people liking you. He’d been your personal bodyguard throughout your teenage years, and he had shooed off every guy, just because he was protecting you, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted both of you to wait and be each other's first kiss, like you’d promised when you were 10. 

Oh shit. He was in love with you. 

He pulled back with wide-eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

You broke out into a smile. “I love you too.”

He grinned like a little kid. 

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Franco Colapinto: shy? For once?

He froze as he heard your voice from behind. He hadn’t been home in months, too busy with racing to visit. But Christmas rolled around as it always did, and so did every single family friend. 

“Franco!” his mother’s voice rang out. “Come here!”

He turned and was met with your eyes. He felt himself blushing already.

“Y/n’s here!” she cheered. You offered a small wave and a smile, which he mirrored. 

“It’s good to see you again,” you  smiled. “Happy Holidays.”

He nodded. “You too.”

“How’s F1 going?”

“Good, well. I like it,” he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Well, we’ve all been cheering you on from here,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to see what you do next year.”

He smiled and nervously chuckled. “Thank you.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

As he watched you over the coming days, enjoying your company, even when he wasn’t the centre of your attention, he found himself becoming even more shy, even more confused, and increasingly love-sick.

He just had to find a way to make himself tell you, easy, right? 

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Logan Sargeant: idek

Y’know how you’re told that when boys like you, they’ll bully you? That’s bullshit, they’re just bullies and their parents make excuses for them. 

You watched as Logan got into your car, getting ready to drive it, and you felt yourself tense up. You’d never gotten along with Logan, growing up in the same racing series, only you pivoted to Indycar and he went to F1. Now he was about to drive your car. You’d never been more nervous. You were the Indycar champion this year, the first women to do it, and you were proud. Giving your car over to Crash-Sargeant wasn’t exactly your choice, but you still had hope that he could drive it. 

You went up to him as he was about to get it, and grabbed his hand, holding him in place. “If you fucking car my car I will cut your balls off Sargeant. Don’t fuck with me, alright?” you whispered, getting close enough to feel his breath on your cheek. He smirked and nodded, ripping his hand out of your grasp.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He was already hearing wedding bells. Utterly and totally in love with you. 

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Daniel Riccardo: nothing like a big gesture, right?

He dropped you off outside departures, a sad smile on his face. “Don’t want you to go,” he sighed.

You rolled your eyes, then wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as his hands circled your waist. “What’re you doing today?”

“Stuff for Enchanté,” he explained. 

“That’s why you can’t come this weekend? Not up to being my WAG in Haas?” you smirked, pressing small kisses to his cheeks as you spoke. 

“God no, I only go there for Nico,” he smirked. “And you’re replacing him today.”

You rolled your eyes, letting god of him. “Fuck you!” you called after you, trying to suppress a smile. He watched as you walked off, shaking your head and he thought about everything. Every night he went to sleep with you in his arms, every morning he woke up beside you, every smile he saw, every laugh he made happen, every hug or kiss he got from you. He smiled, realising the truth. 

He loved you. 

Therefore he ran after you, making a huge scene in the airport. When he finally made it up to you, there were 2 security guards chasing him, so he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you harshly, a bright smile on his face. “I love you,” he smiled when he pulled away. 

“You’re going to get fucking arrested!” you stressed, wide-eyed and shocked at his behavior. 

“For being in love?”

“No, you idiot, for bypassing security and running through an airport without a ticket! Go back!” you pushed him off of you with an exasperated and amused smile.

“I love you!” he called after himself as he was taken away by the security guards. 

“I love you too, you fucking idiot!” you scoffed. “You have a phone, y’know!” 

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Liam Lawson: will NOT speak to you at any cost

Being in love with one of his mechanics probably wasn’t the greatest idea, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and his wanted you. 

“Liam can I-?” you started, but he just walked away, his eyes glued to the floor. You followed behind him, trying again and again to get his attention, but he continued ignoring you, and you'd had enough. “Fuck’s sake- Liam! Stop being such a dick! I don’t know if you just don’t respect me, or if you don’t like me, but I’m a mechanic on your time, and I'm asking if there’s anything you want us to change about your car to make you more comfortable. Just answer me that simple question and I promise I won’t bother you again all weekend!” 

He froze on the spot. “I’m in love with you-” he blurted out, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “The car is fine, sorry. Thanks.”

Then he walked off, leaving you in a stunned silence. 

What the fuck had he just done?

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Charles LeClerc: weirdly calm about it

You two sat on (one of)  his (many) yacht(s), overlooking the gorgeous Monaco bay. He had an arm around you, both of you dressed in comfortable clothes with nothing to do for the entire weekend. Oh, how he adored the off-season. You were too busy reading a book to notice the way he was looking at you. In the simple, silent moment it hit him suddenly that he was in fact, in love with you. And it didn’t scare him the way previous girlfriends confessing such things to him had. It felt right, completely normal, even. 

“Do you want anything?” you yawned. 

“Pardon?” he asked, too busy in his own world. 

“I’m ordering food, do you want something?” 

“I’m alright, but let me get it,” he offered and you scoffed.

“Fuck off Percvél. I can pay for my own food,” you chuckled, getting up and walking further into the boat. 

He chuckled, watching after you. 

Wow, he was mature. And, in love. 

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Carlos Sainz: definitely not freaking out

“I love you,” you confessed as the two of you cosied up at the beach. It had been a brilliant holiday, the two of you actually getting to spend some time together. 

He looked at you with wide-eyes. 

“Sorry if that was too soon, or too much. I just… wanted you to know. You don’t have to say anything back- of course.” 

While you were catastrophising, he was freaking out. You loved him. You told him you loved him. Holy shit. 

He stuttered for a moment, making you grimace. You’d fucked it up, definitely. There was no way he felt the same, right? You were probably just a 7 month long hook-up to him, right? 

“I love you too,” he smiled, then pressed his lips to yours.

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Arthur LeClerc: accidental

“Arthur is so whipped!” his friend laughed, watching as Arthur helped you set the table for dinner. Arthur just laughed, whereas, you frowned. Did Arthur think you were too clingy? Too demanding? Too much? 

Throughout dinner, you were pretty quiet, and you didn’t even let Arthur help you clean up. You went to bed early as he entertained the guests alone, and when he came to bed, there was a pillow between either sides of your bed. He frowned. 

“Baby,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and placing your head in the crook of his neck. “What is the problem?”

You sniffled. “It’s nothing,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

He felt his heart warm when you held on to him, revelling in the fact that you would choose him to comfort you. “It’s just what-”

“Please don’t tell me you took to heart the comment Harry made?” he scoffed. You were quiet. “My love, I love you, I like helping you, I like being there for you, I like kissing and hugging you. If he has a problem with that then he can fuck off,” he chuckled, then stopped when he realised what he’d said. 

“You love me?” you sniffled, raising your head to look at him. 

He smiled. “Of course I do,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Always.” 

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Ollie Bearman: overwhelmed 

He smiled as he watched you dance on the dancefloor of the club. You looked so free and happy, smiling brightly with friends as the lights flashed and the music was loud enough to feel it in your entire body. 

“Dude, you two are so in love, it’s adorable,” Paul, his friend, pointed out. 

“I don’t- we’re not-”

“Haven’t said it yet?” Paul chuckled. “You should. I think she’d say it back.”

Ollie nodded, trying to pretend his entire world hadn’t been flipped upside down. You. Love. He wasn’t in love, right? All boyfriends wanted their girlfriends beside them at all times, right? All boyfriends missed their girlfriends so much that they flew them out to every race, right?  All boyfriends had begged their girlfriends to meet his parents, and vice versa only months into getting together, right?  All boyfriends felt suffocated when their girlfriends weren’t around, right? 

Oh shit, he was in love with you. He stepped outside to get some air.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

After a while of not seeing Ollie, you went outside to find him. You found him, leaning against the wall of the club, staring off into space. 

“Alright?” you asked, gently placing a hand on his cheek. 

He looked at you and smiled. “Alright,” he nodded, wrapping his hands around your waist. 

“Why’d you leave?” you asked. 

“Needed some air,” he admitted. It wasn’t untrue. 

“For 30 minutes?” you questioned and he knew he’d been caught. “Did Paul say something stupid? Need me to beat him up for you?” 

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. “No, I’m alright. I was just… thinking.” 

“Dangerous pastime,” you teased and he chuckled. “What about?”

“You,” he confessed. 

“What about me?”

“I’m in love with you,” he answered nervously. 

“Oh yeah?” you smiled and he nodded. “Good thing I love you too.” 

Wow, Paul was right, for once. 

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Max Verstappen: strange man 

He watched from the other side of the plane as you played chess against his mother, bright smiles on both of your faces as the game progressed. He noticed the way your nose crinkled, the way your eyes shone, the comfortable position you sat in. He thought of every moment he got to share with you, and he almost teared up thinking of the best ones. He loved you. But he wouldn’t tell you, not yet. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He thrust into you, euphoria so close he could almost touch it. “Good girl, he groaned, feeling your nails in his back. “Taking me so well.” 

You just moaned against his skin, too cockdrunk to really notice what was going on around you. Max was a 4 time world champion. He’d done it. The first thing he’d wanted was to fuck you silly in his hotel room.

He was close, he slowed down his thrusts, much to your dismay, and slowly but firmly continued. 

“I,” thrust. “Love,” thrust. “You.” 

And he came inside you as you screamed into his shoulder, reaching your own peak. He hadn’t even meant to say it, it just came out (see what I did there? 😀). He stared down at you as you looked back up at him with wide eyes. 

“You love me?” you questioned. 

He nodded, his mouth dry. He was trying to focus on the softness of this moment, whilst also having to deal with your tight walls around his cock. Torture. 

“I love you too,” you smiled, flipping him over and straddling him. He groaned when he saw you on top of him and he was hard again. “Let me take care of you, yeah? My winner,” you smirked before starting to move on his cock. 

He was in for a long night. But a long night with the woman he loved. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Paul Aron: finally is a victim of humility 

“Paul, just tell her!” Ralf, his brother, argued. “She adores you, you’re in love with her, it’s alright!” 

“But… what if she doesn’t say it back?” He asked, much more insecure than he meant it to sound. He wasn’t used to being unsure when it came to romance. Paul had always been the type of guy to get any girl he wanted, with you it had been different. You’d hated his guts. He had to prove to you he was a good guy, then you’d finally gone out with him, and fast forward a year, he was trying to figure out how to tell you he loved you. He’d only realised it last night, when you were waiting in his apartment with dinner made for the two of you for the simple reason ‘just because’. In that moment he’d wrapped his arms around you and kissed you to stop himself from ruining the night and confessing right then and there. 

Ralf groaned. “You are impossible!” 

When did love become so complicated?

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Jack Doohan: so not casual 

Jack watched as you wiped out in the waves once again, a giggle on his lips. As you resurfaced, he saw the panic in your eyes and he swam over, his body taking over before his brain could say anything. 

“You alright?” he called, swimming over to you. You shook your head wildly, tears forming in your eyes. 

“M-my leg,” you whimpered out, trying to keep yourself above water. He grabbed your waist and held you bridal-style so he could swim back to shore, signalling to the lifeguards as finally got you to shore. He saw the issue when you two were out of the water, a huge gash on your left leg, so bad you could see the bone. The cracked bone.

What ensued for the next 9 hours was a flurry of an ambulance, hospital rooms, and surgery, but the only constant was Jack. he stayed there the entire time, and he was there when you woke up. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when your eyes opened. “Hey baby,” he smiled, easy as ever despite the worry he’d been under extreme stress all day. “You’re awake.”

You nodded, taking his hand. “I’m so sorry about today-”

“Don’t apologise. We all get hurt sometimes, it’s alright,” he reassured you. “Plus, it’s not like I can be mad at you.”

“Why not?” you asked. 

“Because I love you,” he shrugged. He’d realised in the 9 hours of  stress that he wouldn’t go to this extent for anyone else, and that he must be insane or in love (which were probably the same thing) to somehow be blindsighted into bringing you to the most dangerous part of the beach for surfing (we was persuaded by you kissing him lots) and then bringing you to the ER and staying with you the entire time. So, he chose the love one, it sounded better. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[revelboo]

I'm always a sucker for heat-seeking cuddling and love how you take advantage of that in your writing- I'm curious though, around what temp do you imagine the various transformers keep their quarters at? It'd be hilarious for one of them to come back to their human in a puffy winter coat

I think it’d vary on temperatures. Outliers and bigger bots would probably run hotter than the average bot would and would keep their hab suites cooler. I’d guess probably lower 50s upper 40s. Cold enough to make a human pretty miserable if they’re not used to it.

Where I Belong Pt 8

Bluestreak x Reader

• Sock feet sliding slightly as you pad across his berth, you make a circuit with your blanket wrapped around you and trailing behind. You’d raided the pile of clothing Bluestreak had provided you. There was no rhyme or reason to what he’d given you. Some of it women’s and some men’s. With how cold the Ark is, there’s not much point in being picky, so you’d layered on whatever fit and had even pulled on an extra pair of mismatched socks to wear as ugly mittens. You look ridiculous, but you’re warmer at least.

• Door wing clipping a wall, Bluestreak grunts and leans harder into Smokescreen as the other mech helps him to get to his quarters. “You sure you don’t need to go to medbay, pal?” Smokescreen mutters as Bluestreak fumbles to get the door open one handed. Knows Smokescreen is probably right, but he wants to see you. Needs to. You’re there on his berth when Smokescreen helps him across the floor to you. “Scoot, tiny,” Smokescreen says as he hoists him up on the berth.

• Heart racing, you dart to the end of the berth and out of the way as a bot you don’t know, but that looks uncannily like him, helps Bluestreak lay back on his berth. He’s obviously beat up and tension claws at you. “What happened? Why isn’t he in Medbay?” You demand as you place your hands on his shoulder and boost yourself up enough to inventory the damage. Not as bad as when you’d first met him, but still.

• “I’m fine,” Bluestreak mumbles, head turning to find you as you lay a little palm on his cheek and then glare up at Smokescreen. “It looks worse than it is.” And he already feels better now that’s he back where he belongs. “Thanks, Smokescreen.” Just wants to rest and let his self healing kick in, drag you up onto his chassis and hold you until the anxiety recedes. Because you’re all he needs.

• And the other one is turning away to leave, just tossing up a hand. Leaving Bluestreak hurt. Temper flaring, you storm to the edge of the berth, running around Blue’s head. “You come back here!” You snarl and the much bigger bot actually flinches and looks down at you in surprise as you slide and nearly fall. Pointing a finger at him as you run with it before he realizes that no, he doesn’t have to actually listen to you. Because Bluestreak not taking care of himself isn’t okay. “He’s going to Medbay right now.” And even though you’re tiny enough they can pick you up and carry you like a kitten, both bots wilt slightly. The stranger’s door wings drooping as he listens, walking back over to help Bluestreak up and pointedly avoiding your glower.

Previous

[dykedvonte]

love seeing your takes on mouthwashing and how sane they are. everything's so black or white. I like how you acknowledge curlys abuse under jimmy (which I honestly didn't quite notice when I first watched a playthrough. should rewatch w this in mind) and how that very much doesn't "forgive" his inaction towards Anya and Her abuse under jimmy. I think what happens to him despite all his issues (bc he clearly wasn't OK 😊✌🏼) is very much karmic. I really did hurt huh

I hate the take that what happened to him is karmic as becoming disabled and being tortured is like not in any way an equal consequence for not taking more action against Jimmy. It is a consequence as is the whole game for everyone but it’s one that is very much established as being undeserved and extreme as everyone else’s but Jimmy’s fate.

Thank you for liking my takes but I also try to point out that this exact sort of framing of the events and what happened to Curly is bad especially if you are gonna factor in his own abuse into the equation of his inaction/ineffective acts. It’s like “saying yeah he deserved the abuse he was already going through to escalate because he didn’t do enough” which is like not a message the game tries to deliver at all. It’s like the game shows that abusers escalate

Karma and punishment are not concepts that I think should be directly tied to Curly’s fate especially since during the game and even in discussion he takes on too many consequences of someone else’s actions. Like this framing is the direct thing I describe taking the discussion away from Jimmy, P.E and the factors that created the environment in the first place.

[itsabouttimex2]

I have a feeling season 5 very very much changed up LSO!MK and, to put lightly without any curse words, screwed him up.

He was meant to be a sacrifice.

So what does that mean for his poor little Clover? Would they be a sacrifice too, or made to be something worse-

He kills Nüwa.

I’m not even joking. I think this event would be the one that finally makes MK fucking snap. If he went through hell to restore the world, stabilized it, then came back to live on and continue protecting it, found a light in the form of his student, and then learned that they were planned to have the same lot in life that MK did even after all his agony and suffering?

MK would rip apart seams both spatial and temporal to return to her unchanging and ever-same realm of gray, ready to perform an act of god-slaying that history would inscribe to it’s annals in terror.

Of course, she could be making you as an apology! As some form of cosmic “penance” for putting him (and so many before him) through such an awful life of sacrifice and loneliness, for creating him in the first place. It’s not impossible that you simply are a custom child for the man, meant to be loved and cherished and taught, raised as his own as a carefree and happy little darling.

He would… grudgingly make amends, and forgive her, understanding that she was sincere in trying to soothe his loneliness and sorrows, allowed to move on from the past with you in tow, a beloved child and student and not a to-be sacrifice for the “greater good.”

Otherwise… MK would soundly kill her with his own two hands, shred out whatever powers she had with his own two hands, and forcibly merge them with his own- and then every last drop of that is going right into protecting his kiddo. If that means dragging them (and all his friends) into her little gray realm and keeping them there forever?

Well, so be it- only tarnished hands can build golden roads.

[nick-writes-stuff]

Coming Home (Lucifer x gn!Reader)

a/n: it's finally here!! hope you guys like it, i'm really happy with this one. the ending still cracks me up a bit lmao

warnings: honestly there really isn't any. this one is definitely a bit lighter than the others i've written. it is implied that Lucifer was angry, and there is a second where reader is assumed to be dead, but there isn't anything actually happening (it'll make sense when you read it lol)

When you arrived back in your time period, you and Solomon had left the portal into the palace. You looked around, eyes widening as you recognized that this was your time.

For the first time ever, you saw a look of shock on Barbatos' face as he entered the room. It seems like your arrival was not apparent to him. He led you both up to Diavolo's office at once.

They asked you some questions, wanting to get as much information from you about your predicament. The entire time you were antsy, bouncing your leg and fidgeting with your hands. You wanted to go to the House of Lamentation so badly. You needed them to know you were okay.

When the questions stopped coming, you asked if you could go to the HoL, but Diavolo's reaction puzzled you. "I don't think that would be the best idea." He said, tactfully choosing his words.

Your face fell. "Did something happen?" You asked, leaning forward with urgency.

"No, no nothing like that. It's just..." the Prince trailed off.

"Mammon decided it would be a good idea to try to pawn one of Lucifer's cursed records to pay off his credit card bills." Barbatos said flatly.

Your eyes widened as you processed the information, but your resolve didn't waver. "I still have to go over there. I can still see the others while the two of them settle things."

You knew that you had experienced worse moments of Lucifer's behavior in the past, you could surely deal with this.

Diavolo nodded and Barbatos opened a portal to the house. You gave a soft word of thanks before tepping through it.

You entered into the living room where the twins were. They immediately perked up at the sight of you. Satan and Asmo heard the portal and wandered down to see what had happened. As you all talked and explained the situation of your return, Levi even came down for a snack run completely unaware of your arrival, being shocked at your return. After a few moments you asked, "Where's Mammom and Lucifer?"

The room went quiet, the five giving each other awkward glances before Satan spoke up. "Mammon is in Lucifer's office getting the lecture of the century."

You winced slightly. "How long has it been?"

"Um, it was before I had my snack before dinner, so maybe 4 hours?" Beel said.

You moved to go up the stairs, to which the others reacted negatively to. "MC do you have a death wish?" Amso asked.

Satan agreed. "Lucifer is more angrier at Mammon than I think he's ever been. It probably wouldn't be safe for you to go up there."

"Relax. I'm not gonna interrupt. I'm just gonna wait for them." You said, rolling your eyes and heading upstairs.

---

It was another 2 hours before Lucifer had decided that Mammon had learned his lesson and could be free from the lecture. Mammon rushed out of the room and down the hall, trying to leave before Lucifer changed his mind. In his haste he didn't even notice you.

It was a few minutes later until Lucifer left his office. He needed to meet Diavolo to discuss student council business. The door creaked open and the eldest was quick to notice your presence.

You were sitting on the floor with your back to the wall. Your head leaned against the side of a cabinet. Your eyes were shut as you had dozed off.

For a second, Lucifer assumed he was seeing things. Maybe he had gone too long without sleeping? Admittedly, he has definitely gone too long without sleeping. Maybe Satan and Belphie had decided to play a cruel prank?

His hesitation only lasted a moment until the avatar of pride was kneeling in front of you. He assumed you were injured somehow, because why else would you be unconscious on the floor. His breath was quickening, fearing the worst. He didn't even know how you were here, but here you were unconscious in front of his door and he hadn't even known.

Lucifer grabbed your shoulder shook you gently, trying not to hurt you. "MC? MC wake up, please-" He started, sounding desperate, but he stopped as your eyes flickered open and you yawned softly.

"You really know how to keep someone waiting." You said, giving him a slight smirk even despite your half-asleep state.

You joking was the only thing he needed to hear. He pulled you into his arms in an instant. You felt him take a deep, shuddering breath as if the weight of the world was no longer on his shoulders (because his world was in his arms)

You wrapped your arms around him, lazily tracing soft circles on his back in an attempt to soothe him.

Once he held you for long enough that he could no longer assume it was a dream or a hallucination, he pulled away and began looking you over. "You aren't hurt are you?" He asked.

You shook your head.

He seemed somewhat puzzled at your response. "Then why are you on the floor?"

"Because I had been waiting out here for a while and I was tired."

"You should have just came in, it would have been-" He began, almost having a light scolding tone to his voice.

"After hearing some of the day's events from Satan and Asmo, sorry, but there was no way I was opening that door." You said with a chuckle. Lucifer knew you were right, but he was still a bit frustrated that you hadn't come sooner.

Lucifer seemed to look you over once again before placing a kiss on your forehead. Your face changed to a lovesick grin, looking up at him. He gave you a slightly confused look, silently questioning your expression.

"I missed you." You said.

Lucifer would never admit to the flurry of butterflies in his stomach, but you could tell from his gaze and the light dusting on pink across his cheeks.

He stood up, offering you his hand. You took it and pulled yourself up to stand with him.

"You know, I just got a wonderful tea blend from Akuzon. Would you like a cup?" He asked as he walked to his room.

You smiled. "Of course." You said matter-of-factly. As if you would ever decline.

He made his way to the electric kettle. Whenever he knew he would have a late night, he tended to keep the kettle on so he could have water ready on demand.

You shut the door and moved over to the couch near the window. You took a deep breath, finally feeling like you were able to relax. You look over to watch Lucifer.

"This is an old favorite of mine. It's been out of stock for a while and when I found it I couldn't resist it." He said with a chuckle. He showed you the box, taking a breath to continue speaking but you cut him off.

"No please! I'm so sick of that one!" You said, voice louder than you meant it to be.

He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you. His gaze was a mixture of confusion and disbelief. the audacity

You were confused too, almost like you expected him to remember the situation you were referring to. "Ohh okay I forgot that wasn't a recent experience for you." You said in realization.

"MC, what in Diavolo's name are you talking about?"

"That flavor of tea was your old favorite for years back in the past. That's the only flavor of tea I've had in weeks. Please, for the love of everything unholy, make me literally any other blend." You said.

Only you could speak to him that way without consequences. He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he pulled a separate box from the cabinet. One of your favorites. He put the other back, as he realized he hadn't had your favorite since you had disappeared, and he wanted to fully indulge himself in the reality that you had returned.

After drinking the tea, you yawned. He looked over to you. "You should go to sleep." he suggested softly.

You were tempted to just go to his bed without question, but your logic overrides your sleepiness. "You should too."

He chuckled, standing up and walking toward his desk. "Nonsense, MC. I need to go inform Diavolo of your return. I fear I've waited long enough-"

"Solomon and I arrived in the castle. I spoke to Diavolo already." You countered. He paused for a moment.

"When is the last time you had quality sleep?"

He went to answer but hesitated as he realized he didn't know the answer.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to the bed. He relented, getting into the bed beside you. You laid your head on his chest, murmuring a soft "good night" as your eyelids fluttered.

He kissed the top of your head. "Good night, my love." He responded, quickly dozing off due to the company of his beloved.

---

The next morning, you walk down to the kitchen to see Mammon making breakfast. While facing the stove he asked "Whoever you are, can you grab the milk for me?"

You oblige his request, grabbing the bottle and turning towards him as he turns around. He dropped the spatula and audibly gasped.

"You're back?!?! GUYS MC IS BACK!" He yelled.

Belphie was half asleep as he entered the kitchen to get a drink. "Yeah, and? They've been here since last night." He snapped as he looked through the cabinet.

Mammon scoffed. "Ya finally get back to us and you forgot to tell the Great Mammon?? What happened to me being your first man." He said, taking great offense to this.

You were never gonna hear the end of this.

[atangledfate]

Lanolin watched Sonic, Belle and Kit enter, with Sonic leaning against a wall, and Kit finding a place to sit. She rubbed the back of her neck looking to Blaze with unsure eyes. It stood to reason that GUN had its network of spies. Two people knew all about Belle outside of the people who worked here. It was easy to assume Rouge and Shadow had given all kinds of reports to GUN though she liked to believe Rouge wouldn't have given those kinds of details.

" It could have been anyone, Both shadow and rouge work for GUN and had full access to this information. But even if we say they wouldn't do that--- plenty of volunteers come and go through the workshop. Any one of them could have overheard her, or us talk about it. Or they could have gained information from the eggnet itself... how isn't important right now. The fact is they know and she's on there radar... honestly this was bound to happen eventually. I think we all knew that... "

Sonic looked at Belle flexing his hands with that anger flashing across his face again. He wasn't gonna let anyone get to Belle, and he'd die before he let them take her. But Belle was right running from GUN was probably the last thing she wanted. This was a mess and worse, it wasn't the kind of mess he could punch away. Eggman was easy to deal with but GUN? Politics sucked! But his eyes went to Kitsunami and he couldn't help but worry how he'd react to Surge's plans, damn how was he gonna do this? His eyes shifted to Rowan as he came back and he smiled!

" Hah! well ring tail! you are doing better then most! you wouldn't believe how many can't hold it down! so kudos to you! "

His thoughts broke as Miles finally made his way up stairs, and Sonic and he shared a fist Bump. At least his mood seemed 10 shades brighter as if the fox mellowed him out. His eyes turned to Lanolin as she got everyones attention now that Miles was there.

" Alright... guess that is everyone but Surge--- Here is the situation! The United Federation of Nations president has personally spoke with me. He's made his stance clear... he sees Restoration as a rogue element... it was fine at first they even commended our work. But taking in Surge, Kitsunami, and Belle seemed to set of red flags. Clutch's deception only cemented there stance... "

" The President ants to shut us down until a full investigation can be performed. It's likely he intends to arrest Surge, and Kitsunami... i can't say what his intent with Belle is yet. The point is... if we fight back we become enemies of the the free world... enemies of gun and we prove them right! I don't trust them either... i doubt Amy would... I think we have to play there game... I don't see another way out of this that doesn't get people killed and our donations cut for good... "

She sighed and rubbed her own cheek looking at Belle and Kit specifically.

" Belle, Kitsunami and Surge i get it if you want to cut and run... i won't stop you. But this ... this is the only choice we have to keep our work going... no matter what i feel about you both, and i've come to see you as friends. I have to look out for the well being of the organization... our work is to important... i hope you understand..."

Sonic let out a deep breath through his nose, he somehow ventured this was the outcome. He hated every word Lanolin said! She was just gonna give up like that? and what let them come in and shut it all down! or worse take control? this was bullshit!

" Oh come on Lanolin you can't be serious! Those guys will make up what ever story they want! just let surge and i kick there butts! and send them packing! "

" No Sonic, she's right... Restoration relies heavily on donations and volunteers. If the United Federation of Nations declares us an enemy of the state or terrorists. We'd lose all funding, and worse people would be to afraid to help out. If we fight we lose, if they come in we still lose but at least there is a chance to fight it in court, or argue our side of things... logically speaking its a risky move but... if we fight we defiantly lose..."

Miles looked over at Belle with a sad look

" It might also be a chance for Belle to finally argue her case to the people and be accepted as a citizen... but, they could also dismantle her or lump her in with eggman. This is a big risk for all parties... especially surge, Kitsunami and belle... they have a tough choice to make..."

" Well, we chaotix have always remained free lance--- but ifin' they do come in and investigate. We can do our own investigation... least have our own evidence to use against them... but as someone who grew up in the hood--- If they gots the right judge you ain't ever gonna win that case... you all sure you wanna go down that road? "

" I know this is bad but ... unless anyone has better plan... i'm out of options... and the clock is ticking. I don't want anyone hurt... we all came together to fight eggman, not the goverment. I just--- i'm open to ideas... its why i called you here... "

"Though from what I know you concealed Belle's creator besides a select few, and I believe given how different her design is only someone used to fighting Badniks could put together who she was made by. In that sense, the mole either has to be one of the volunteer soldiers that's been here a while, or someone in the inner circle." Blaze was more concerned why go after Belle. She's never been seen with Eggman, or his forces. As far as they're concerned she's just an advanced robot living her life.

"I have doubts they'd take it that far, if only because did warn Lupus that attack me is like declaring war against the Sol Empire." It was a scare tactic, though an effective one as she was sure he mentioned it to the president. "If we have too I can simply move Belle, Surge, and Kitsunami to the Sol Dimension and bring them back some place else."

"I don't think Surge or Kitsunami would like that idea very much. I'm not opposed to it, even if I don't want to runway and stand my ground I'm sure that'd be a good idea. Though perhaps convincing them to leave me alone would be better in the long run." Belle was only offering her ideas as she entered the room right after Sonic. The tinkerer didn't want GUN breathing down her neck for the rest of her life.

Rowan would walk back in, looking a bit annoyed. "You know, you could've just asked me to leave for a second to talk to her. I've never moved at high speeds and nearly threw up my lunch." The lemur guessed he was being pushy, though was also trying not to come off too strong. Guess he needs to work on that a bit more, though there are certainly a lot of people her now.

A moment later Kitsunami would walk in, not saying a word to anyone before finding a chair and sitting down. The fennec never expected Surge to be here, sure she was out by the check point as a warning for GUN not to try anything. The tenrec wants him to keep the inside of the base safe so that's what he's going to do. Only intending to assist her if she calls him.

[allpiesforourown]

Can I ask from this ask game for BingYuan (all of the questions)? Thanks 🧁

https://www.tumblr.com/comingfromastatechampionasshole/119898100247?source=share

Send me a ship and a number and I'll tell you

1. Which one is the better cook

Binghe 100%. Shen Yuan was a spoiled rich kid and after Binghe fell into the abyss he just stopped eating... there's no way he knows how to toast bread

2. What their love letters look like

Love letters imply they're ever far enough to need to send each other letters... at most they'll be long texts Binghe sends rambling about how much he wuvs his hubby and would rather be at home than his stupid job as King 🙄 and Shen Yuan blushes and replies "Focus on work Binghe..." Then he waits for Binghe to get home and whine that sy was so cold to him so he can apologize with smooches

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope

I mean . We know how this goes. Corpse cuddles and trying to raise the dead

4.What they do on date night

Since Binghe is a hopeless romantic who never thought anyone would love him, I think he'd want to do stereotypically romantic and basic dates. They go to an ice rink and hold hands while they skate and he's vibrating with joy because he's living out his hallmark fantasies. Shen Yuan indulges him sooo much.. too much. He got a cold but it was worth it seeing Binghe's happy face

5. How many kids they'll have

I'm gonna say... two. One is through breeding kink gone too far, second is them seeing an orphan boy who reminds them so much of Binghe as a child and deciding they have to adopt him immediately

6. How they decorated their bedroom

Elegant and slightly minimalist. Shen Yuan has all his merch hidden away in his childhood bedroom at his parents house because he's thin faced... they stay over one night and Shen Yuan completely forgets his old room is a haven of his weeb shit and is mortified when Binghe sees his limited edition poster of a hunky male character naked holding a sword.

7 Which one is the worse driver

Shen Yuan by far... same reason as his cooking, he probably had a driver take him everywhere until Binghe showed up

8. What they argue about

9. Which one swears more

Shen Yuan by a landslide. Binghe is a very intelligent and well read man and while the same holds true for Shen Yuan, if he goes 2 minutes without calling Airplane a dumfuck authour it's worrying

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other

Theyll watch anything together, even stuff they dont like so Binghe can listen to him rant about how much it sucks. Shen Yuan hides PIDW and all his other porn-for-plot interests but Binghe knows about them.

11. What their first impression was of each other

Shen Yuan impression of Binghe: beautiful and strong man

Binghe’s first impression of Shen Yuan: beautiful and kind man

(This never changes)

12. What they do for their anniversary

Regrets of Chunshan role-playing baby!!

13. Which makes a bigger deal of birthdays

Hmm. I'm gonna have to say both. Binghe cooks a feast and Shen Yuan dotes on him and fulfills any wish Binghe has.

14. What nicknames they call each other

Binghe: yuan-gege or laoshi

Shen Yuan: Bingmei (in his head only, he's too embarrassed to say it)

15. What they would change about each

If you ask them, Shen Yuan would say Binghe should have a smaller pillar... this is a lie. He can't go back to normal after getting used to Binghe stretching him so wide

[diminuel]

In the fun little Roger/Garp idea (AU?), if they are the parents of Ace, would Ace know who his mother is? Would that impact Garp and Ace's relationship? Would Dragon still end up his little brother as a son?

Delightful question, thank you! Pondering this kind of insanity is just what I need!

I think we need to figure out what the setting for this is.

Let's go with a scenario where Garp (who I assume is a woman, since you mentioned her being Ace's mom) is unable to deny Roger his preposterous dying wish of leaving a legacy in the world. She'd already be pissed because they have Dragon, is that not enough? Roger's going to die and the thing he's worried about is legacy? But she can't say no to him no matter how frustrating the bastard is. She doesn't want him to go with regrets.

But then the asshole goes and causes a new age of piracy and suddenly Garp's life is going to be a lot more complicated.

As a marine, Garp has her hands full. She's already worrying about her oldest making bad choices in the aftermath of his dad's death and now there's a hunt on for any potential blood that Roger might have, any women connected to him, any children he could have fathered.

And for some reason Dragon was flying under the radar, she was flying under the radar (maybe Sengoku was running interference, you never know) but this kid? Something tells her that the child that Roger wanted to be his legacy is not going to be so lucky, that the burden of his will and his name is going to be Ace's ruin.

Hiding the kid is probably going to be the best course of action. And maybe Dragon doesn't know about Ace and doesn't find out until he seeks a safe place for his own child. Garp might just recognize this as some strange turn of face. If Dragon wants to risk raising this kid with his warlord wife/husband? Well, here's another one. Good luck. (Dragon would be used to his mom's brand of insanity so this doesn't even shock him too much and since he didn't tell her about Crocodile and Luffy until he absolutely had to, he can't even be grumpy with her.)

And maybe if Ace and Luffy grow up together Garp is granny to Ace too. Though I think Ace would know? And it probably wouldn't make him feel great. Dragon was one thing - Roger probably wasn't even a pirate by the time Dragon was born - but Ace's mom made the decision that he should be born into a world that she knew would hate him. And once he was born she didn't even want him. I think it could really mess with Ace. And no amount of supportive (adoptive) parents would fix it properly. And Marineford would be a hot mess, even worse than it already is now. >w<

And of course we can go with a sillier version where things aren't that dire. Garp could be chaotic and just drop the child on Dragon with a "I'm too old for this, it's time for you to stop your stupid revolutionary fancies and start being a responsible family man!!" (And maybe Roger is alive too in his version. Ace would find both of them very annoying. Garp would always be very offended - in an exaggerated way - when Ace would call her grandma, refusing to call her mom. They'd just be Grandma and Roger to Ace even though Dragon would always make sure to call them mom and dad to maybe get Ace to pick it up, but no. Ace decided that Dragon is his dad and Luffy is his brother, he will not hear anything else. Maybe once he meets Whitebeard he's gonna find another dad and then Dragon would be offended. Crocodile would also be offended because he objects to WB on principle X'D)

[raayllum]

What Is Up With Terry :: the Thread of Necessity

Intro

Terry is an interesting character in a lot of ways. He's unflappably kind and optimistic, accepting even to a fault, and he's an elf with no issue with dark magic yet doesn't seek out its use for himself. He's a non-traditional antagonist for starters, he's trans without being overly sanitized, and he most notably provides a sounding board for more overtly 'evil' characters like Viren in season four and Claudia in seasons five and six. Most of this is in service of Claudia's goals, with Terry not having many of his own goals outside of his support of Claudia and Viren; this is, mind you, not too dissimilar from Soren with Ezran in arc 2 as well, or even Amaya with Janai.

I also think he's a very important in a character in a lot of ways, for the ease with which he explores and exemplifies

You can love / support Viren and Claudia and that doesn't make you a 'bad person' in the show

You can be okay with dark magic without changing your mind and that doesn't make you a bad person either

You can kill someone in TDP and that doesn't automatically make you a bad person either

We know all of this is true (and will likely continue to be true) as we know in S7 there is an episode about Terry related to him still having a "true and pure heart," which is about as classical "good guy protagonist" speak as you can get. In those lenses, I think Terry was a fantastic choice in introducing a new character to not only contrast against Claudia and Viren, but also in terms of getting us to be more sympathetic towards them (particularly Viren) than we might've been inclined towards in arc 1.

That said, I think the most important thread that Terry carries is that he is a character who truly and wholly does whatever is necessary for his cause, nothing more, nothing less.

But what does that mean, tangibly, within TDP's narrative? Well, let's talk about it:

Necessity

The concept of necessity—I needed to do this, or I have to do this (even though I don't want to)—is one that has been central to TDP for a while. We see this characters who cite a lack of agency ("He was going to take Claudia's life, I had no choice" / "Every step I took, I took because I had to" / "I'm sorry. I have to do this") throughout the show, both dark mages and not, particularly Rayla, Soren, and Callum.

And in return for perceived necessity, as Harrow states, "I have done terrible things. I thought they were necessary. Now I don't know." We increasingly see people justify, or struggle to justify, worse and worse actions. Claudia's mindset has become very transactional, for example ("He saved you, and now we have to save Aaravos" / "It's a mistake! I saved you! You owe me your life!"). Generally speaking, the show treats these things labelled as necessary as unnecessary (hence the regret they experience, and even Terry disagreeing more adamantly than he ever has before).

This is, of course, because 4x09 and 6x09 together very clearly spells out what is important for Terry to believe something is necessary: it must be done entirely out of love, no more and no less.

I've seen you do a lot of awful things, dark magic things, but I always believed in you because you had a reason [saving your dad]. But what you just did, the way you tricked that Moonshadow elf? It was just cruel.

Maybe it started out as a story of love, but along the way it got twisted. [...] He isn't doing anything for love. He's doing it out of revenge.

To Terry, you do what you have to do but go no further; you don't give into anger, you don't give into revenge. You act entirely out of love, and keep acting out of love and let it temper you. This is why Terry resonates, I think, and seeks guidance from Viren after the mage's initial assessment of what's been happening, emotionally:

This is similar in practice to why Viren (and Claudia to a lesser extent) are characters with such fraught paths. Not only because of their dark magic use, but because of their denial. Viren violates Lissa's safety and trust to save Soren, but then blames Soren for it; Claudia heals Soren and brings back Viren, and doesn't understand why fixing things physically wasn't enough. "I had no choice" for them means "I have no accountability," and that's why they kept spiralling deeper till Viren broke out of it. He atones then not by swearing off dark magic (although it helps) but by taking full agency in the choice to do dark magic and in what manner (not sacrificing his family again) and without a desire for ego, which was his biggest character flaw in a lot of ways.

The reason I bring this up is to provide a contrast for Terry in a few ways, such as

Terry always being very emotionally open, rather than repressing or offloading blame onto other people

Mandates that he had no choice (4x03, 4x04) but to kill Ibis verbally, but is also aware that it very much was

Is able to accept that this was a choice and move on

Terry does what he believes is necessary. He feels things about it. He doesn't go further into outright self destruction, and he doesn't escalate to what harm is deemed unnecessary. That doesn't mean Terry's levelheadedness can't be a flaw (he absolutely should have told Claudia to give up magic in 6x04) or that what he believes is necessary always is / that his choices are perfect (they're not), but that in his contrast to Claudia and Viren, he continually provides that contrast. He can be held at sword point by Rayla, a total aggressive stranger, and still recognize that withholding her family from her is what he deems as unnecessary cruelty (but more on that later).

For now I want to talk about patterns, specifically two that he engages in with Claudia.

Patterns

The first pattern is unsurprising, perhaps, given that Claudia-Rayla have continually had parallels, given that:

1) Claudia keeps leaving him

This is, of course, most obvious in 6x01 when Claudia states her intention to do so, or even in 6x09 wherein Aaravos literally lifts her away from Terry:

But we also see it earlier on with even the choices Claudia makes in her mission. Terry is a passive person, much like how Claudia at her core is ("Tell me what to do" + 90% of interactions with Viren that aren't about saving him), and therefore Claudia leads the way, and Terry is happy to let her.

He never really considers that he might be a core part of her truth, and that she wants more active advice (see the way Rayla counsels Callum about his dark magic use, comparatively, in 6x03, or nudges him forwards elsewhere throughout the seasons). While Terry isn't wrong to encourage Claudia to think staunchly for herself, and in fact she very much should, it does leave her more vulnerable to the next first person willing to tell her what to do: Aaravos.

We also see Terry's passivity go even further back to one of his first episodes, as well as in the S5 finale.

Each entry in the pattern is a little different.

4x03: Claudia leaves / goes in alone and fails at her mission. Terry follows and saves her by killing Ibis at great cost to his personal emotional state.

5x09: Claudia leaves / goes in alone and fails at her mission. She goes further into Aaravos' clutches (the ocean here metaphorically) and returns of her own accord.

6x01: Claudia succeeds at bringing back her father but cannot make him stay. She leaves on her own in an attempt to break her family's cycle of abandonment without realizing how she's continually perpetuating it, but returns in a devastated and dejected state.

6x09: Claudia succeeds at her mission of freeing Aaravos, and the Startouch elf takes her literally into his clutches and away from Terry.

Each time it is her choice to leave, with only 4x03 firmly having Terry following without her returning by her own merit. Whereas Claudia plays out her family's cycle of abandonment with all its members—her mother, her brother, and finally her father—Terry plays it out with just Claudia, over and over again. This doesn't mean their relationship is bad or that some of these times are unreasonable—Terry is willing and supportive to let her go in 4x03 and 5x09 much the way Callum is supportive of Rayla in 4x09, 6x05, and 6x09—but it is a pattern that has then taken on a negative slant in S6 and will likely to continue to worsen in S7 before it gets better either in the season or beyond.

Then, we have the pattern of how

2) Claudia gradually stops listening to him.

This is probably more interwoven with the thread of necessity than the previous pattern, since as stated before, sometimes when Terry is letting Claudia go off on her own while it's imperfect in the narrative, it makes sense within their dynamic / resources. Like as previously mentioned, too, Terry is more often correct than he is wrong about the next moves people should make. He's right that Claudia will need help in 4x03, he's right that they should go look for her in 4x07, he's right that she needs rest in 5x02, and right to be wary and against Aaravos in 6x09.

In the beginning, Claudia listens to him.

But as the seasons go on, this gradually changes with twice back to back in 5x06.

T: It won't chase us anymore, you won. It's trapped. Please. C: You're right. It won't follow us. But not because it's trapped.

Season six is arguably the season where Claudia listens to him the least despite Terry reaffirming her agency most directly (6x04) as she ignores or doesn't listen to every reservation he has.

T: It's him. It's your Dad. C: Then I have to... T: No! Please! Please don't... I don't think you should see him like this. C: I have to! I came all this way to see him one last time. I need him to show me the right path. T: This won't give you answers. Only anger. Only pain. I'm so sorry. He's gone. He is gone.

And Terry, who does things only that are necessary, only out of love, would know the difference: unlike Rayla, or Claudia, or numerous other characters arguably in the show, he always has, particularly when given broader context the way he is in 6x09 (which hasn't always been true in his relationship with Claudia, either).

None of this is to say that Claudia is a Bad Partner or that your partner should always listen to you, either, because neither of those things are true in life or in TDP. Healthy couples in TDP disagree all the time in both healthy and unhealthy ways. Rayla left Callum when he explicitly made her promise not to, and Callum did dark magic to save her twice despite 100% knowing it's not what she wold've wanted.

But the first thing I want to address is the difference between Claudia leaving out of grief and trying to feel in control after losing everyone but her boyfriend, and Rayla leaving out of grief and trying to feel in control after losing everyone but her boyfriend because they are wildly different for one main reason.

Rayla left in the middle of the night while Callum was sleeping because "you’ll wake up and try to stop me… from doing what I know I have to do. Leaving. But I can’t let you stop me, Callum. No matter how much I want to. [...] And if you said even one word to me, I wouldn’t be—couldn’t be. If I stay even until your eyes open and you yawn your silly morning yawn, I’ll break" (TDP reflections, Dear Callum).

Terry, meanwhile, is actively begging and pleading with Claudia, and he is still abandoned. Granted, Claudia seemingly comes back within a day or two, not two years, so that does mitigate things, but the fact remains that Rayla thought she wouldn't be able to leave to protect Callum if she even heard him speak a word or yawn, and Claudia was able to leave to protect herself while having a full on conversation. Ouch.

Nor does this completely absolve Terry of the one time Claudia straight up asks him to tell her what to do, or what he thinks she should do, Terry doesn't (6x04). He's not wrong that she needs to choose the way and figure out what she needs, but him emphasizing that he can't tell her what to do and then immediately accepting her premises that Viren can and should tell her what to do is something that's already bitten both of them in the ass.

Terry also only asks Claudia to listen to him, really listen, and to tell her what she should do when he thinks it's absolutely necessary.

This is also one of the reasons why she and Terry are suited to each other. Both value and respond to necessity, scaffolding everything else on top of what needs to be done or doesn't need to be done. What's risky about this mutual understanding is the potential for it to stop being so mutual if they start to have different views on what's necessary. And as we see in 6x09, that's happening more and more. What is going to continue happen when Claudia keeps viewing Aaravos' actions as necessary, and Terry doesn't?

Questioning

So Terry is, presumably, going to increasingly be wary and against Aaravos. What is that going to look like?

We have a decent idea, honestly. As stated / noted before, Terry actually pushes back against Claudia fairly often. He's just rather gentle about it, and usually is trying to prioritize her wellbeing (or someone else's) when she isn't. Examples include:

4x09 over the coins / being cruel

5x01 ("You'd think if dark magic does this to a person they might not do it")

5x02 over resting

5x06 over attacking the dragon

5x06 over killing the dragon

6x01 over her leaving

6x04 with telling her what to do

6x08 over seeing Viren's corpse

6x09 in helping / freeing Aaravos

However, we're also yet to see him be angry in his questioning or when pushing back, which is what I think would be most interesting to see change (think the moment where Iroh finally yells at Zuko beneath Lake Laogai). His pushback with Claudia has gotten more and more consistent as well as more dire throughout the seasons, and just like how Viren and Claudia eventually disagreed and split up, I think Terry and Claudia will too. How permanent that split will be, I think, is up to her (I could see parallels happening between Soren and Terry teaming up to try and bring her home, with Ezran and Rayla doing the same for a brother-partner tag team Callum duo), but I do think that Terry's testament of "I love you, I will never leave you" is apt foreshadowing to see what it would take for him to break his promise, and do just that.

To what he knows needs to be done, even if that means walking away.

Misc. Season Thoughts

Terry also has some interesting things that don't fall under the necessity umbrella that I wanted to talk about as well. One of those things is

TERRY AND IDENTITY

This isn't to say I think Terry actively has an identity arc in seasons 4 through 6 the way other characters (Callum, Rayla, Viren) are, but that Terry like most of the main cast is linked to arc 2's continual increased emphasis on identity and choosing your own identity. This is true particularly in 4x01, which opens after the intro with Callum running through / clarifying his titles (or identity roles) and concludes with Viren and Terry being introduced to one another. Terry gives details on his name ("[Terrestrius] is a bit traditional, but my friends call me Terry") and then asks for clarification on what he can call Viren.

Later on in S5 and S6, we see Soren and Rayla respectively see through the 'monstrous' / threat of others by reaffirming their similarities ("I know what this is like. I know how you feel" / "This storm isn't your rage, it's your grief. I know how you feel") and bestowing agency through naming conventions. Rayla identifies the monster isn't a monster but a pet, and more than that, gives Esmeray back her name. Elmer does the same when he overthrows Finnegrin and Soren likewise affirms it: "We literally didn't [defeat him]. Elmer did."

Why is this relevant? Well, in an arc that's all about emphasizing over and over again to see other people's personhood by using their name(s), recognizing that you have a choice, and choosing who you want to be...

So often queer characters in media are regulated to their queerness being happenstance (i.e. they fulfil a certain story role regardless and just happen to also be queer) or it's all their character gets to be (a "figuring out queerness and/or a coming out" arc). One of the reasons I myself (as a queer and trans person) has always deeply appreciated Terry as a queer character, specifically as a trans character, is precisely the way that his transness is interwoven with TDP's broader themes of chosen identity, self-actualization, and knowing / name motifs. In having these themes and ideas for multiple cis characters, Terry's interplay gets to be enhanced by his trans identity and simultaneously let him enhance the thematic explorations the series has going on, and I think that's pretty cool. Identity is one of the main themes of s4, and for Terry as well, so it's nice to see the ways that's reflected.

I expect season 7 to challenge his identity further ("I'm going to be strong enough to do whatever I need to do and still have feelings") if forcing him to confront who he wants to be, who Claudia is becoming, and who he thinks they can still be together. In a lot of ways I'm expecting S7 to be a sister season to S4 thematically even as S7 builds on S5/S6 in terms of plot and character arcs, since S7 seems geared to be about identity directly even more than S4 was (and much more than S5 or S6 were).

TERRY AND COMMUNICATION

If season four is about identity, season five has a strong emphasis on communication. This is, again, likewise true for Terry, as he encourages Claudia to communicate in various ways across the course of the season.

The situation is urgent, and you're worried I'm not treating it that way.

Terry consistently having clear communication is also something that puts him in direct contrast to Aaravos, who is a master manipulator and very careful liar-not-liar in his own way. Terry is always open and while thoughtful does not really bottle things up; he communicates clearly with other people and is comfortable doing so, and is very good at validating others as well. Whenever he does push against Claudia, he always clearly explains why he's doing so or why he disagrees but leaves the choice of what to do next in making amends or carrying on up to her. Aaravos, meanwhile, continually withholds or omits information, and presents things in certain ways in order to get, well, his way.

I don't have as much to say for season six, given that Terry is only in about half the season (6x01, 6x03, 6x04, 6x08, 6x09) and one of those is entirely silent. I'd say his main idea in s6, like s4 with identity and s5 with communication, would be the theme of Questioning (scaffolded under 'supportive'). He's supportive of Viren and Claudia's searches for meaning alongside his own increase questioning of what they and Aaravos are doing and why. I'll be curious to see what his main character beat may be in s7 going forward.

Conclusion

There's more I could talk about with Terry (Viren dreaming in 5x03 of chasing after Claudia only for her not to listen, only for Terry to live out that worst fear in 6x01 directly, for example) but I think for now these are the main things I wanted to discuss without going further into speculation than I already have. I hope this maybe brought a new perspective or appreciation for Terry as a character and for his arc in the show so far! As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

[tigersharktheautisticseawing]

okay, so add-on Autistic Ford theory, I've always had it brewing in me somewhere (not sure if it's canon, fanfic or mine) the Ford has the "either you're a genius or a freak who doesn't deserve to exist" and that Stanley has the parallel "If you don't do everything I tell you you don't deserve to exist and nobody wants you", but this just ADDS to that!!! Also with the autism I mentioned, I genuinely think he likes the idea of knowing how things work, of learning and stuff, but he doesn't want to discover. He wants to learn. He doesn't want to do research on Gravity Falls and it's weirdness, he wants a book called "1001 facts about Gravity Falls and it's weirdness", which he can read in like two weeks and then spout the information back at anyone who will and won't listen. He doesn't want to do the complicated scientific method proof and stuff, he wants to understand why stuff is like that, best if someone else already did the heavy lifting and he can just gleefully agree with them. Maybe he even completed like 1 or 2 PHD's, like a physics one or like biology or chemistry or something that needs you to understand to proceed (and also lets you fuck around with stuff), but the 12 PHD's thing is bullshit. Actually, I think he actually tried, burnt out, dropped like 9 subjects and then tried to make ends meet until he's done with this shit. (also if he's OOC I may be projecting onto him accidentally, if so please cornobble me immediately). And the idea that they're both exactly as smart as each other, but maybe Stanley got idk like adhd too or smth or a different special interest or sum shit and he was worse off academically (aka worse grades), but better at picking up shit on the fly (aka rebuilding the portal basicallyon his own for all we know, using only the aformentioned rambly diaries journals, meanwhile Ford got the other end of the stick

Idk man I was expecting to be angry and completely disagree with you, but came out enlightened. OP you're really forcing my third eye open with a crowbar and I'm here for it.

Also why in the everloving fuck did you have to call me out like that in the gifted kid w/ burnout section

I have a Gravity Falls Theory I've been meaning to write down for a WHILE so here goes:

Stanford Pines is no genius and I'm gonna pick apart every single one of "Ford's" scientific inventions/accomplishments to prove it.

Grab a beverage, this is gonna be a long one

[Gravity Falls spoilers, a little bit of The Book of Bill]

Contents:

Ford's "Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness"

Codes and Secrets

Inventions

Ford's Tragic Backstory

McGucket

Why Would He Do This??

After Weirdmageddon

TLDR

1. Ford's "Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness"

I can support most of my claims with the help of Journal 3. Unless Ford had actual, scientific research papers, this is the only research we have from him and it's... not scientific in the slightest. Ford treats his "research notes" like a personal diary. I get that they had to design the Journal to be entertaining to kids, but from a scientific lense (which is what he wants to be perceived through), most of Ford's discoveries are very surface level and sometimes (especially later on) border on paranoid conspiracy theorist rambling.

His Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness is the reason he came to Gravity Falls in the first place. His goal is clear:

but, on the very next page, the ramblings start.

It gets worse once he finds the invisible ink.

"The pyramids were built to appease Bill!" sure, buddy.

(And yes, Bill confirms most of these ramblings about his history in The Book of Bill, but a) he too could be lying about this and b) I don't think he had a nice chat with Ford about who he tricked and tormented to build his portal. It wouldn't really fit into the timeline.)

The one bit of "science" I found him doing was his experimentation with the Bottomless Pit. He threw objects in the hole and only saw some stuff coming back while other stuff went missing. Ford hypothesizes it might be a "Möbius Pit" and even spends enough time experimenting on it that he found out "nothing ever seems to get lost on Friday the Thirteenth". Credit where credit is due.

Anyway, he's documenting all kinds of fantastical creatures in the Journal - adding his whimsical commentary and making random assumptions about stuff without any scientific basis. As he admits himself later on, this is getting him nowhere to actually start his Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness, let alone finish it. It's been SIX YEARS.

BUDDY WHAT ARE YOU DOING.

It took a spark of "divine intervention" to even start doing any meaningful research and it was just Bill telling him "hey there's a weirdness dimension btw".

Ford even admits that he didn't come up with it himself. The next pages are the first actually scientific looking ones so far, but more on that in the Inventions section.

He doesn't really advance on his Weirdness Theory for a while (see McGucket chapter for more), but later in the Journal, Ford has a little adventure with Dipper, talking about "The True Theory of Weirdness". He drops a "weird" jelly bean on the floor and watches it roll uphill towards Gravity Falls. He then states that Gravity Falls is a "Weirdness Magnet" and every oddity is eventually drawn to this place. Which is not a theory scientifically speaking, more like an unproven hypothesis. He didn't develop a model to, let's say, predict which oddity will find its way to Gravity Falls next or when it will happen.

"I explained that I felt in my bones that my arrival at this town, and perhaps Dipper's, too, was not an accident. That we were part of some greater fate the town had in store for us." Very scientific.

2. Codes and Secrets

The Journal has several hidden messages from a good handful of characters, some more encoded than others.

We all know about the Map leading to the secrets of Nathaniel Northwest's fraud from the show. Ford found it somewhere in the library.

It just needed to be folded. Layton ass puzzle. A 12 year old figured it out. Ford couldn't do it. Even Mabel is poking fun of him.

Now on to the ciphers.

One of them is a letter from Blendin, encrypted with the Vigenère cipher. To this, Stanford "aced cryptology" Pines says the following:

He was given the key and still couldn't make sense of it. Of course a cool puzzle for people reading the Journal, but not really helping Ford with upholding his image of being an undeniable genius.

Ford himself mainly uses the Atbash and Caesar ciphers, both being a) literally thousands of years old, b) incredibly simple and c) not his own invention.

Bill uses two symbol substition ciphers.

Now I don't know about you, but if a divine being chose me as the genius of the century to inspire me and said being left tiny hidden messages in my diary, I would stop at nothing to try and decipher what they're trying to tell me. For some reason, Ford did not do this. The first message Bill leaves says "I'VE BEEN INSIDE YOUR MIND SIXER, I KNOW YOUR SECRETS". He could have seen all of this coming wayyy earlier (or just had yet another red flag to ignore).

Anyway, I accidentally solved the code before finishing the Journal just to discover that Bill is literally handing him the solution on a silver platter towards the end.

Girl, what do you mean "???" ??

Now, I know Ford at this point is incredibly sleep deprived, paranoid and traumatized. But come on. If I can solve it 6 coffees in while dissociating, our genius can find the solution to Bill's alphabet using the A1Z26 cipher that he put in the journal himself. Plus, as mentioned, he could have deciphered his alphabet way before The Betrayal when his mind was still sound.

So again, not a good look for Ford in the whole genius department.

3. Inventions

Now let's take a look a the inventions which are most commonly associated with Stanford:

The Portal

The Bunker

The Magnet Gun

The Quantum Destabilizer

The Perpetual Motion Machine

The Portal is not one of Ford's inventions, that much is pretty clear. He "comes up with the idea" after Bill told him about some kind of "weirdness dimension".

Now maybe Ford built the portal. Or McGucket built it (which I find more likely due to his tendency to build large scale metal structures) and Ford helped him. We can't really say for sure.

What we CAN say for sure is that McGucket left the day before the big test, which means the portal was basically finished at that point. So if there was still any work left to be done, it would have been minimal and "even Stanley" could figure it out without help, so Ford probably could have, too.

The Bunker. Designed and built by McGucket (and possibly the lumberjacks before zapping them with the Memory Gun), including the death trap of a security system.

Notice the wording. McGucket insisted he could do it on HIS own. But then went out of his way to ask the lumberjacks and not Ford to help excavate the whole thing.

Why? Why not include Ford? Maybe because McGucket could tell Ford was overworked. Maybe because he thought even with Ford's help, they wouldn't have been able to do it in a timely manner and he didn't want to memory zap more people than neccessary, I'm not sure.

Anyway, the Bunker consists of the Bunker itself, a Security Room, an Observation Room and a Storage Room. On top of that, a Temperature Control Apparatus, a Cooling System and a Cryogenic Tube.

Again with the phrasing. "HIS skill for construction". "telephone HE built". "my assistant really topped HIMSELF with the security precautions". "once F starts inventing, HE can't stop".

A man like Ford wouldn't pass up on an opportunity to tell the world about his own accomplishments, yet they are strangely missing in these pages. However, the sketches documenting McGucket's work have become more technical than they've ever been. They even have small annotations that seem as if Ford asked McGucket what he was currently building.

"F has explained" implies McGucket was once again doing this on his own. Why else would he need to explain anything to Ford if they were doing this together? Plus, again, surely Ford would have mentioned something, anything, if he had participated in any way.

The things he DID mention is that he found a mole man skeleton and "Shifty", the shapeshifting creature. And he saved McGucket once Shifty broke out of their cage (Remember this for later, it'll come in handy). And he conducts tests on Shifty (remember this as well).

On to the Magnet Gun.

Again, passive form. If Ford had modified the gun himself, he would have told us. Chances are it was once again McGucket. Or it was just taken from Crash Site Omega as Ford says in the show that he and McGucket came down there often to loot the UFO for tech.

Lastly: The Quantum Destabilizer.

He actually admits he worked on it. However, he spent 30 years between dimensions. In these 30 years he couldn't find anyone (including himself) to get the Destabilizer working. The Other McGucket, however, was able to do it in less than a week.

Ford claims he was missing a suitable power source which The Other McGucket found, but there's no way of knowing if there was more to those "minor adjustments" to Ford's blaster than Ford would like to admit.

The only invention left is the Perpetual Motion Machine which I will save for the "Tragic Backstory" section.

Honorable mentions:

The Hyperdrive needed to power the portal:

While between dimensions, he was given a Dimensional Translator. Also not his own invention.

"F's mechanical know-how" vs. "my keen intuition." implying Ford merely found the Hyperdrive, but McGucket extracted it safely.

So the Hyperdrive was looted from Crash Site Omega. Plus, McGucket was the one to realize it was even needed in the first place.

The metal plate in his head? Not his invention. Not even his idea. The Oracle did that for him.

The Book of Bill has another example that Ford can't invent for shit: He found the blueprint of Abigale Blackwing's Anti-Bill-Suit in the library (once again, not even his own invention) and drafted a more modern blueprint. And either he completely failed to build it or it didn't work because we never hear from it again. Instead, he installs a retina scanner to keep Bill out of the lab. Which he (probably) ALSO didn't build himself.

In summary:

Portal: blueprint by Bill, (probably) built by McGucket.

Bunker: designed and built by McGucket (probably with the help of the lumberjacks).

Magnet Gun: likely looted from Crash Site Omega.

Quantum Destabilizer: a mess before McGucket fixed it overnight

Perpetual Motion Machine: see below.

Dimensional Translator: Not Ford's invention.

Metal Plate: thought of and installed by The Oracle.

Anti-Bill-Suit: invented by Abigale Blackwing.

4. Ford's Tragic Backstory

In fact, he mostly doesn't even say that he did any of this. He openly admits whenever he took something or McGucket built stuff, and barely calls any of the inventions his own. We just assumed that he can (on account of him being a genius), so we assumed he did.

would only make sense if he ACTUALLY couldn't get the Perpetual Motion Machine to work. We already know Ford is an unreliable narrator and I'm probably not the first one to point out that it doesn't make sense that Stan supposedly cost Ford his entire scholarship by breaking his Perpetual Motion Machine (accident or not).

Think about it from a college's point of view: You hear about a young man who apparently built a machine that violates the laws of thermodynamics. You don't just pass up on something like that just because it didn't work the ONE TIME you came to visit. That would be an exceedingly stupid thing to do. I think they would have given him that scholarship if he even got close to achieving such a feat.

Does he even have 12 PHDs as he keeps claiming? In what? For what reason? Wouldn't he get a scholarship for his dream school at some point given his seemingly endless potential? It all seems like overcompensation to me. Reminds me of Tommy Tallarico and his ever-increasing number of Guinness World Records.

Now let's briefly assume Ford IS a genius whose invention got sabotaged. Ford could have easily fixed it and asked for a second appointment with the judges. This did not happen. And even if he didn't get into his dream school, he could have used this perpetual motion machine for the good of humanity. He didn't do that. If the Machine had ever worked, it would have made international news. It didn't. He would have been world famous. He isn't.

What does that tell us?

However, there is a reason Ford is like this. It is connected to his tragic backstory, but I will include this in the final chapter for narrative reasons.

Also note how even in A Better World, he did not go do his dream college. The science center was built around the Shack that he went to later in life:

And even there, he only manages to make a name of himself with McGucket's cooperation. We already established he couldn't build the portal on his own. My guess that McGucket once again did the heavy lifting and didn't mind Ford taking the credit (as you will see in the McGucket chapter).

5. McGucket

At this point we've already gone over how McGucket built (probably) most of the Portal, the Bunker and everything in it, and got the Quantum Stabilizer to work. We also know that in his free time, he loves to tinker. He canonically built a laptop (with extra keys for Fords fingers), a cellphone, the Memory Gun, several killer robots, the Shack-O-Tron and started an entire ass cult along the way.

And that's just what I picked up on from skimming the Journal.

I think Ford was McGucket's assistant. He didn't get ANYTHING done before he called McGucket over for help. In the bunker, all he did was find a skeleton and conduct "experiments" on Shifty (by showing them pictures of creatures and documenting what happens). He led McGucket to the UFO crash site, McGucket was the one to actually extract the Hyperdrive. All of the stuff Ford does sounds more like an assistant's job to me.

We only see McGucket make stuff on screen. All this time he's welding together contraptions, piloting giant killer robots, having a blast.

We never see Ford tinkering ONCE. Still, he constantly praises McGucket for his "brilliant mind", "mechanical knowledge" and "skill in construction".

I'm also pretty sure McGucket knows that Ford isn't the genius he claims to be. Upon seeing Bill's blueprints, he immediately gets suspicious:

Why would he say this to a fellow genius?

And he's the one who recognizes something is wrong with the portal earlier than anyone else.

The day before the test, he meets Ford at the diner to warn him cause he knows something is deeply wrong - and offers him a thesis paper.

Now here is where things get interesting.

Ford gets angry. But instead of saying something like "How dare you insult my scientific integrity / intelligence", he thinks McGucket wants the Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness to himself, which obviously couldn't be further from the truth. But Ford is too insecure about his intelligence and too curious about the portal to care.

This makes me wonder if McGucket had done this before. They went to college together. What if McGucket wrote Ford's final assignment as well? What if he'd seen him have a meltdown over the introduction and whipped up a fantastic final thesis in an afternoon?

We know McGucket cares deeply for Ford, and we can tell his intentions at the diner were sincere. He doesn't really want or need any credit - meanwhile Ford is starved for it. This is probably also why he's fine being "Ford's assistant" even though he's the one putting in most of the work.

6. Why Would He Do This??

Before we talk about Ford's plans after Weirdmageddon, I have to mention that there's a good reason Ford is pretending to be a genius. This is pretty speculative territory, but I think it makes sense given what we know about the Pines family.

When you're a twin, at least in the Stan Bro's case, you're constantly being compared to one another. Once it has been established that Ford is the "smarter" of the two (true or not), their father latches onto that and soon Ford's intelligence becomes his entire identity. I think just like Stan was looked down upon and neglected for being the "stupid" twin, Ford was burdened with expectations for being the "smart" twin. "You're gonna go far, kid. You're gonna make us so much money, you're gonna get us out of this dump." An INSANE thing to burden a child with.

This goes well for a while - Ford gets straight As and is the pride of the family. His ego inflates. But then something strange happens which I'm sure many "gifted kids" can relate to - he hits a wall. At some point he can no longer brute force things with his intelligence and he has trouble keeping up with his family's expectations. His massive ego gets damaged beyond repair.

Soon, he starts questioning everything. "If I'm not the smart guy, who am I? What's left?" He's been living like this his entire life. It's way too late to turn back so he moves forward. And if intelligence can't get him there, at least he can use the smarts he does have to make sure nobody else ever finds out. It's not unlikely for him to develop this attitude and it's the same kind of mindset he brings to taking the Hyperdrive from Crash Site Omega:

In a way, this makes him a con artist like Stanley. Which, after everything that's happened between the two, must feel like such an insult to Ford that he'd rather live in denial than face reality. The reality being that he is about as intelligent as Stanley, too. This doesn't mean that Stan is dumb (he managed to get the portal to work with barely any help, after all) - just that Ford is not as intelligent as he (and everyone else) thought / expected of him. AND that Stanley isn't as dumb as everyone always told him he was.

I think while yes, Stan broke the Machine, Ford couldn't fix it. Or it was never even a Perpetual Motion Machine to begin with. Yes, Ford couldn't go to his "dream college", but was that really his dream? Or his father's? Remember when McGucket offered him the Weirdness Thesis on a silver platter, saying with this he can finally "get his life back", and Ford still refused it? Maybe he didn't want his old life back. Because his old life SUCKED without Stanley in it.

7. After Weirdmageddon

Now that we established what Ford's dad wanted him to be, let's explore what Ford actually likes doing.

Obviously journaling and sketching what he sees, but what else?

Ford loves exploring. He goes on hikes, climbs mountains, visits caves, goes ham on Crash Site Omega. In the Bunker he looks around and discovers a mole man skeleton and Shifty while McGucket did the inventing/building.

He's also great at action hero stuff. He saves McGucket from the Gremloblin, and later from Shifty, he's jumping around the UFO with a magnet gun as if it's the only thing he's ever done, and saving Dipper from the security system, just to name a few.

He even says this in the episode: "I need to train an apprentice to help me fight monsters, solve mysteries, and protect this town." This doesn't really sound like science stuff to me.

So yeah I think Ford lied about being a genius to compensate for his (self perceived) lack of other qualities, he lied about his 12 PHDs, his scientific accomplishments, maybe even some inventions. He sucks at decoding things despite claiming to have "aced cryptology". Instead, he spends most of his time exploring, fighting monsters, stealing shit and getting in all kinds of dangerous situations. Truth is, he is much more similar to Stan than he'd like anyone to find out.

He also doesn't even WANT to do science. He likes the idea of science, like in Sci Fi movies, but not the actual labor that comes with it. Ford has been travelling between dimensions for 30 years. He probably is the only human to ever have done that in his dimension. Surely he spent these 30 years on research? Well...

There's only a single line mentioned in the Journal about doing anything scientific and he didn't even dedicate the entire sentence to it.

He "compared notes with scholars". That's it.

But surely he has so many papers and theories he can finally publish to fulfil his initial goal to "join the ranks of Newton, Tesla, & Einstein in the pantheon of science"?

Nope. He goes treasure hunting with Stanley. Ford seems to have forgotten all about his research. And I think that's not just because he wants to make up for lost time, but also because this is what he truly wanted to do in the first place, before he was forced into the "genius" mold.

To go adventuring, to be creative, to spend time with the family that matters.

8. TLDR

Ford didn't manage to write his Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness.

His Journal is entertaining, but ultimately full of unscientific ramblings.

He didn't build the portal, bunker, magnet gun, quantum destabilizer, or any other invention I could find.

All of his accomplishments can be traced back to either Bill, the town library, or McGucket.

He didn't write his own codes, he couldn't decipher any of the codes or secrets he found, including the ones he was given a solution to.

The Journal makes it look like Ford is McGucket's assistant and not the other way round.

McGucket is amazing and needs to be protected at all costs.

The tragicness of Ford's backstory makes no sense if he actually WAS a genius.

He needed to keep up the genius act because that's what his family expected of him and now he's con-artist level good at it.

He spent 30 years between dimensions committing crimes and preparing for revenge instead of doing science.

he seems to not even LIKE doing science. he prefers exploring, drawing, and getting into dangerous situations.

Once back in his home dimension, instead of doing anything science related, he goes adventuring with his brother.

Disclaimer: I have nothing against Ford, if anything this adds to his character cause I haven't seen anyone even so much as question his status as a genius yet. I just needed to get this out of my system cause this has been brewing in my brain since JULY.

This took me 10 hours to write. Thank you so much for making it this far, this post was brought to you by Autism™

[brekkie-e]

Okay, so the more I sit with it- the more I can see the appeal of the Solavellan "happy ending." The mythological implications. The opportunity for both of them to be free of the pain that their title has caused them. Solas gets to return to the Fade in the only scenario that means he can find meaning and happiness there like he once had.

There is more going for it than I think a lot of people saw at first glance. Myself included.

The thing that still holds me back on it, though, is it feels like it works best for a Lavellan who's clan is dead and presumably removed her Vallaslin. That character is the candidate for this to be her perfect ending. She gains something from this. Where going into this scene- she has no family left and no home to speak of- she leaves with a metaphorical husband and the promise that the Fade will be their domain forever. There's some work that has to go into it first, but the two of them will make a home there.

Lavellan's who have a clan, though? Who chose to keep their Vallaslin out of love for their family/culture? They abandon their family for him. They could have been the First, and they abandon that role as well. He doesn’t even read like he wants her to reach out to him in that moment, and she throws all of it away without receiving a scrap from him.

The whole thing feels like yet another blow to me. It feels like your character is constantly being asked to sacrifice the part of herself that loves her people for Solas. Which is even more frustrating because he gives none of himself to her in return for her sacrifices. There are reasons for that, yes. I have read Weekes' explanations for why Lavellan needs to reach out to him, and I get it. I get the bigger mythological symbolism, and I appreciate it. However, just looking at it in the context of these two characters. In the context of this series as a whole- it gets under my skin a little.

Clan Lavellan is the third clan you can see whiped out in the series. It's not even acknowledged in the game. The fact that the narrative wants so badly for you to reject your characters Dalish heritage, and rewards you the most if you do so is just really disappointing. This game in some ways tries to do better than its previous counterparts with its baked in save the Dalish quest. But the whole thing is messy. There's so much to unpack with how they are still handling the elves in this game.

The thing is "ideal" routes are not new to Dragon Age, or Bioware at large for that matter. So I'm not exactly surprised that this is coming up. I am just a little disappointed that there isn't more in the story to engage with that minimizes some of the "delulu girl throws her life away for the quintessential 'if he wanted to he would (derogatory)' guy while her friends and family look on in horror" energy that it has. Because I think that comes in mostly from execution more than anything. And there are certain play throughs where it looks worse than others. "Certain" being mine and I don't like it 🤣.