#but honestly so much of this is just a personal thing about how you work best

[the-oracle-of-the-lost]

STAR TREK DIALOGUE ANALYSIS OVERVIEW

oh boy so i mentioned this project awhile back and after a long hiatus i'm finally done! (the irony that i wrote this and then took a second equally long hiatus but the point stands.)

i went through transcripts for TOS, TNG, DS9, Voyager, and Enterprise (thanks to chakoteya.net for those!) and calculated how many lines each main character has in each episode (and season & show as a whole), calculated means, looked at who had a lot of high & low line count episodes, made some graphs, and did some analysis on gender and race.

you can find my whole process & results on a spreadsheet here (it's a little messy. i'm sorry. if someone pays me i'll make it look nice and actually learn how to make good graphs in Google Sheets.) and i'll walk through some Big Results & reactions on this post here under a cut. just so this doesn't get too long, i'll breakdown each show, post my gender & race analysis, and a big list of every character with how much of a focus they get on separate posts. they'll all be tagged as "star trek dialogue analysis".

but first just a disclaimer – i do have professional experience doing data analysis but this is by no means a professional analysis and i'm sure there are plenty of mistakes because this was initially a small personal project that snowballed a little bit. if there are any Major Things you see that are wrong (i.e. i copy and pasted a totally wrong value somewhere) please reach out and i'll correct it if i can. also if anyone wants to use this data for anything, feel free but tag me because i'm curious!

see also: gender analysis // race analysis // tos breakdown // tng breakdown // ds9 breakdown // voyager breakdown // enterprise breakdown // who's the most/least used character?

all of the following graphs measure mean (average) lines of dialogue per episode, averaging all seasons (that they were a main character) together. please refer to the spreadsheet for more detailed information about exact numbers.

unsurprising results... this is the one Star Trek show that really never aspired to be an ensemble show. i was actually surprised by how few lines Spock and McCoy have in comparison to Kirk

also unsurprising that the two characters of color have the fewest lines per episodes in the 60s

Kirk had BY FAR the most lines of dialogue per episode out of all characters i've measured (115.20)

again unsurprising that Picard has more lines by such a wide margin

honestly fairly surprised by how few lines Data had (I thought he'd beat Riker by a decent margin) and was very surprised at how few lines Troi consistently has across the season. like i knew it wasn't many but dang... only 18 lines per episode on average.

and here we can see that ds9 really embraces being an ensemble show with everyone (sans Sisko, Ezri, & Jake) having around the same number of lines on average, probably the most equal overall of any Star Trek show.

Sisko obviously has the most lines as the lead and Jake the fewest because of irl work restrictions (and less kid-centric stories).

i was surprised with how many lines Ezri had but then again her entire character was compressed into a single season so it seems fair. (interestingly, Ezri has the most lines out of anyone in s7 (996), even beating Sisko (874))

despite having the most lines in DS9, Sisko has by far the least out of any main character/Captain of the shows i've measured.

Janeway has the highest average line count out of any 90s character and third highest of any character i measured (69.51)

and again, with the exception of Janeway, we see that Voyager tends to be more ensemble focused than TNG which surprised me a bit given how later seasons are often criticized for ignoring a lot of characters but i think the very ensemble heavy early seasons balance things out.

the characters also generally seem to have more lines on average than either TNG or DS9.

and oof... yeah Voyager was it for the ensemble style show

Archer has the second highest average line count (86.68) for the whole study after Kirk (115.20)

apparently the inception of Enterprise was to recreate the TOS style triumvirate and for better or worse they certainly did.

some overall fun stats –

there are 162,455 total lines of dialogue spoken by the main cast from TOS to Enterprise

somehow there's only a ten line difference between the amount of dialogue spoken in TNG (43,148) and DS9 (43,158)

the 5 characters with the most dialogue per episode in Berman era Trek: Archer (86.68), Janeway (69.51), Picard (69.37), Sisko (50.72), & Tucker (46.03). notably only one woman and one character of color (more on this in a gender & race analysis post)

not including kids, the 5 characters with the least dialogue in Berman era Trek are: Mayweather (13.39), Sato (15.99), Troi (18.11), Kes (18.18), & Neelix (19.68). notably including three women and two characters of color (again, more on this in a different post)

the character who has the most dialogue in a single length episode is Quark with 189 lines in Who Mourns For Morn?

[callmearcturus]

dottie lasso is the final boss of the show (and ted loses)

someone commented on my ted-is-a-feminine-junior-too post about recognizing dottie lasso and what she did, and i'm a Johnny-come-lately to this fandom so i missed all the discourse

but surely it's been discussed to death that Dottie Lasso is the Final Boss of Ted's life, right? like, she shows up on that bench and you should feel the opening of "MEGALOVANIA" in your soul because she's the villain of the story.

honestly, in Ted Lasso, the main villains are: Rupert Mannion, Twitter, Rupert Mannion again, cisnormativity/heteronormativity, and Dottie Lasso, kind of in that order IMO.

"Mom City" is kind of a genius episode with its thesis and punchline. Because Dottie shows up and derails Ted's entire life and not in a good way. She makes him palpably uncomfortable and all of his usual kindness and interest is just turned off around her.

This episode isn't shy about reminding the audience that Richmond has become Ted's home. From the most fish outta water who nearly gets killed looking the wrong way crossing the street, Ted knows his neighbors, knows the culture here, and is defensive with that knowledge because it's been hard-won over time.

No but really, look at how UNCOMFORTABLE Ted is EVERY MINUTE of this episode. It's so stark bc this charm offensive Dottie's doing on everyone at Richmond is so clearly a Lasso Thing. This is the exact tactic Ted used when he was new in town and completely at sea.

(fuck this got long, there's a lot more under the jump)

But he isn't charmed or permissive or entertained, he never once Yes, Ands what Dottie says. In fact, he corrects her all the time.

jesus fuck look at this specific moment!!!

who the fuck are you and where is ted

because Dottie being here is a nightmare. she's the person who knows the Ted Lasso Source Code and the way she maneuvers and nudges him, he seems helpless against it. So he continuously separates himself from her in what feels to me like a fearful reaction.

Like, when Dottie explains where she's staying, she does this trick

DOTTIE: An adorable little hostel. I've met so many Australians. They are backpacking through Europe. So much sex. TED: Mom. DOTTIE: Not me, the Australians. TED: No, no, I get it, okay. How about you stay here for the rest of your trip, all right? DOTTIE: Only if I'm not a hassle.

This is such a fucking move, you realize? She has been in London a fucking WEEK without telling him, then as soon as she tells him where she's staying, she, a midwestern mom to her open-minded but very romantically private son, invokes sex so he'll be uncomfortable with the situation and invite her to stay. This is a chess move they should call the Wichita Shuffle.

And Ted absolutely hates the way Dottie lies about him. The connection is pretty straightforward; Dottie deals with her trauma and pain by covering them up with pretty little lies and melting truths until they fit the shape she wants them to be in. Everything she says in this episode is bullshit.

(points up) THIS INCLUDED, BTW. This is the Ted that Dottie wants him to be, the guy who will fall on his sword at the first sign of someone else's discomfort.

But that isn't who Ted is anymore and Dottie saying this is vicious and cruel. It's disrespectful to Rebecca, to everyone at Richmond, and to the work Ted's done with Sharon.

which oooooooooh

hey, anyone else remember Ted's "I love meeting people's moms, it's like an instruction manual on why they're nuts" from S2? boy that's a brick joke

and this bit of dottie saying her anxiety re: ted's therapy out loud, that hissing sound is a fuse being lit in this moment

Ted calls her out directly. He knows how she operates because she raised him in her own image. As I noted in the other post, Leslie Higgins is not the only feminine junior at Richmond, so is Theodore Lasso, son of Dorothy Lasso.

THAT FUCKING DARK CHUCKLE, THE "YEAH OKAY" MOMENT this is the fuse finally reaching the dynamite

this is the moment, this moment of push-back, implicitly the first time Ted's ever pushed back in his life

this is the moment Dottie takes every single thing she knows about Ted, everything she put into him, and she destroys his fucking life with the exact four words it would take to make Ted give up everything he's worked for, all so he'll go back to being what she expects from him.

and hell if he doesn't know it.

everything he's done for himself, all the space he's finally allowed himself to fill, the progress and labor he's put into becoming a better person

mom shows up and tells him no, you're coming back.

(and the fact Dottie Lasso, a character who has not said five truthful things this entire episode, tells us how someone else feels should be questioned very fucking directly. i don't trust this woman to honestly report on Henry's opinion of peanut butter and jelly, let alone if he wants his father to give up his life and return to Kansas. i know every single fic has brought up the question of "hey why doesn't anyone ask Henry what he wants" but that's because SOMEONE needs to ask the question instead of taking Dorothy fucking Lasso's word for it, christ)

I don't know how tf you don't read this show as a tragedy. Dottie Lasso is incredible, she's so pitch-perfectly written and acted, and she's absolutely the final boss of the show. And Ted doesn't win that fight.

hell THE SHOW SAYS THE QUIET PART OUT LOUD, i would put the screencap here but I've run out of images, but THEY FUCK YOU UP, YOUR MUM AND DAD, THE SHOW SAYS IT this is a fantastic tragedy, i love it

[mo-ons-stuff]

Pick a Card: Your Love Life in 2025

Any card!

Pile one -> Pile two ↓ Pile Three

Pile One

I'm hearing that you're going to experience this fairytale kind of love. The one where Cinderella and Prince Charming find each other. They dance at the ball, yadda yadda yadda. You're going to experience it all, so I don't have to reaaalllly go into that much detail. It'll be great.

Except, since I also see that you'll love this person persistently, right? But there's also gonna be a minor issue. They're perfect, sure, but there's that one thing that gets you a bit like... hmmmm.

Aka, ~the ick~.

Now, pile one, you're going to have to get real for a moment. Is it an ick, or is it normal? Can you really chastise someone for existing as, like, a human being?

This year will bring you great love, but also great lessons. You may need to learn how to grow with other people. Meaning, you've done the work to get comfortable with yourself, but are you comfortable with other people? I don't see so. You're actually a bit more judgmental than you thought, to the point where you don't realize it. You may think of yourself as a person who is graceful to others, so maybe try seeing where this thought blocks you from actually giving grace.

Sometimes we get so caught up in our own lives that we forget to focus on growing with other people, too. The thing you're gonna have to remember is to get out of your own head. Touch grass. I don't see that you don't but maybe look at the grass for what it is instead of triumphantly exclaiming that you did the thing.

So, in tandem with what I just said, your love life will go just perfectly. I doubt that this lesson will fly over your head, so try not to ruin a good thing for yourself and it will all be good. You're going to get your happily ever after.

Want me to elaborate? Consider a paid reading!

Pile Two

Not going to lie, this pile is similar to pile three in the sense that you've gone through a bit. Life has a habit of throwing things at you, so you are used to bracing yourself. However, where others haven't done the work, you have. Where there was lack before, there is abundance now. You cultivated the wastelands and have conquered mountains. You've done so much and now all is left is... love?

You're pretty balanced as an individual. Nicely enough, this actually attracts people. That. Is. So. Crazy !!!! <- I'm getting that you'll be thinking back on this year and it's interactions like that. Literally, though, it's going to blow your mind how when push comes to shove... your efforts actually led to good results. You're going to see what it's like in action.

It's not like it's going to be too unbelievable. It's literally just a new normal. And, it takes getting used to.

When you do get used to it, dating itself is going to be really nice. You'll know how to get around and find someone. This is going to be less of a surprise to you; I'll explain why.

This lover is very bumbly (almost clumsy) and sweet, and meanly enough you may not consider them an option at first. It's not personal, you just didn't. But they are also kind of obvious too. It's just endearing, honestly. They're a bit silly, with all of this as I'm reading like awww they're so cute. You won't have to worry about the cruelty of the world with them. They're a human with emotions and complications do arise because of that, but you know how to navigate these things and so do they.

Not going to lie, some of you are afab wlw, and others are afab but straight. This person could be either gender, so basically take it as it resonates for the gender you're into.

*gif unrelated. Tahani is hot and a baddie.

Want me to elaborate? Consider a paid reading!

Pile Three

"I am trying to find myself. Sometimes that's not easy."- Marilyn Monroe

Admittedly, and I mean admittedly because you know this deep down, pile three, but admittedly you know that your love prospects haven’t been good. You are aware of why, too. There’s a truth that you’re running from, all because it’s a bit too painful to process. And it makes you choose the same hurt again and again. The devil often comes knocking at your door, and you haven’t comprehended that maybe you shouldn’t fall for the different clothes or his sweet words.

All of that is to say: gain more self-awareness. You’re falling for the same tricks in different clothes because you aren’t aware of what you need to do to not let this in. Boundaries are powerful only because they stop things that aren't meant for you in your life. Don't forget: you not liking things and acting accordingly is a boundary, too.

To speak from the heart for a moment: I kept wondering why certain types of people were "attracted" to me, like I was a magnet for bad. But, as it turns out, I've learned that other people tolerate bullshit so much less. Meaning, I was not attracting these people. They interact with others too; I was letting them in where others wouldn't. If you're suffering, and you notice that the people around you aren't, they're doing something you haven't been doing. Maybe you subconsciously tolerate less, or maybe you even consciously ignore the voice in your head telling you to get away.

You can only ever subconsciously tolerate less by consciously getting disgusted at tolerating more.

Actionable advice to change your future: if confronting the monster that needs to be confronted is too hard for you, chip away at its hard scales slowly but surely. Keep your distance at the times you need to, and confront it head on when you need to. It takes patience and you may get burned, but experience is the best teacher. Look to others who have been through the same thing as you and be completely open to trying what they have successfully used to combat their disorders, addictions, and trauma (always get medical professional help first though).

This is a you year. One day at a time, you will get better. And when the next new year rolls around, maybe you'll have learned enough to finally embrace a year of romantic prosperity and abundance. I see that this pile is actually lowkey full of baddies, pulling a quote by Marilyn Monroe isn't for weak personalities.

On a final note, don't get discouraged by this message. One year in a life is a drop in the ocean. You most likely won't remember the lonely times when you finally do reach the other side of the hardships. All that matters is that you get comfortable with *you*, and what's meant for you will soon follow.

Want me to elaborate? Consider a paid reading!

Thank you for reading!

[moki-dokie]

I would just about be willing to bet money on it that the CEO, or any exec of any bank or hotel chain, could not directly access or control anything with any customer for a few reasons.

Liability being an absolutely fucking huge one. most of these execs are not the level of fuck-you megawealthy elon is and are extremely susceptible to lawsuits and massive fines and even jail/prison time if they deliberately access private information without reason. Banks are highly regulated and secured by federal laws and take security pretty fucking seriously which brings us to

Nobody at executive level deals with day-to-day shit in their systems or with customers in massive corporations like banks or hotels. they've likely never seen their own banking software beyond a cursory glance during the occasional meeting. they probably don't even bank at the institution they work for in most cases, and if they do, they have an accountant that handles their finances for them. they might not be fuck you rich but they're still amongst the wealthy. you think the current hilton family have ever operated their booking software? or have any idea how to access customer information? or that any of the execs deal with the bullshit operational stuff thats about ten levels below their paygrade? i honestly doubt any of them would even know what department in the company to contact to even get to that information.

execs oftentimes do not have security clearance to directly access any of your stuff, to protect them from point 1.

is it possible they could? yes. the possibility exists. but is it probable? no. the risk greatly outweighs any sort of reward. not only are there major legal consequences, but anything at all that reflects poorly on the company, such as a lawsuit (especially a class action one) or bad press, will in turn impact their stocks, which is the ultimate bottom line any of them really care about. if you want to keep making fuckloads of money and stay in your cushy exec position, you usually keep the hell away from all things customer/consumer related and instead focus your more nefarious ambitions on things like embezzling and insider trading and bribing and fucking over smaller companies and finding loopholes around labor laws, ect.

"banks" can't access your account or control your funds. Very specific agents in very specific departments with very specific security protocols that are very heavily monitored and logged can view account details and take certain actions. And half the time those actions require approval from a member of their management. I suppose theoretically, depending on the software, a rogue agent could potentially do something wild with your account but not without landing themselves in prison and those actions being reversed really quickly lest a lawsuit happen. "Hotels" cannot unlock your door with a master key. The receptionist (or, sometimes, only their manager) can after a round of security verification or a warrant from law enforcement. and at least the times I've had to have that done at a major hotel chain, it is logged. i can't speak for the shady motels and b&bs out there that are run by individuals, but we're talking about corporations here.

and with corporations like those elon is at the head of, having that much unchecked power is unheard of. believe it or not this corporate state is actually regulated to a degree. there are so, so many safeguards in place to protect customer information. they've been slowly but methodically lessened in the last couple of decades - which is precisely what the ultra rich and far right (typically one and the same) are trying to do; get rid of so many government regulations that protect private citizens. which is precisely what elon has been put in charge of for the incoming cabinet.

one man should not ever have this much power. period. he should not be able to personally access any of this information. it's wildly unethical and opens up so, so many security nightmares. the world's wealthiest man who is possibly even more unhinged and dangerous than trump himself is, is about to have his own governmental department, and is going to be absolutely up the ass of the man who will be running this country. and he will have complete and total unrestricted access to every single tesla customer, every single twitter account.

and you have to ask, "Why would you assume he couldn't"?

because that kind of power is unprecedented outside of the fucking cia and some extremely classified spec ops of the military. and completely and utterly unprecedented in the hands of one person.

Hey how come the truck automatically locks when it explodes and bursts into flames

[reasonandfaithinharmony]

2024 Gif Round-Up

Thank you for tagging me @heartstringsduet @thisbuildinghasfeelings @paperstorm @alrightbuckaroo

@carlos-in-glasses @guardian-angle22 and @reyesstrand!!

I’m very late to this because the holidays didn’t leave me any time to myself. But @herefortarlos tells me there’s no deadline for these things. So here we go.😅

This year was the first time I watched 911 Lone Star live, and it was actually the first time I’d ever made gifs for *any show* as we got new episodes. It's been a lot of fun, even if it makes me even more aware of just how long it takes me to finish a set. 🙈

Here’s to everyone who puts lovely content on my dash, whether it’s your own work, reblogs, or funny/heartfelt commentary and tags. I would be so lost without all of it.

Please consider this an open tag for anyone who would still like to do their own round-up!

January

Carlos smiling into kisses Parallel set with scenes from Yee-Haw (1x02)

“You asked me to feel safe with you.” Flashback set with scenes from Friends With Benefits (2x04) and Push (3x04)

When a new hyperfixation takes hold Dan Levy reaction gifs

February

TK and Carlos comforting each other Parallel set with scenes from Friends With Benefits (2x04) and A House Divided (4x16)

March

“I'll keep going with you.” An emotional entry for incorrect quotes/text post–gifs, with scenes from In the Unlikely Event of an Emergency (3x08) and In Sickness and in Health (4x18)

 “I am tryna be your home, your safe place, your go to person…” Back to the more humorous incorrect quotes/text post–gifs, with moments from Yee-Haw (1x02)

“there’s honestly a lot of things wrong with you but im kind of into it for some reason. Do you want to get married.” Incorrect quotes/text post–gifs, featuring the darts scene from Texas Proud (1x03)

April

Their last terrified moments in their first home. Their first brilliant and joyful moments in their new home. Parallel set with scenes from The Big Heat (2x12) and Push (3x04)

“Hey now those (your big brown eyes) are some dangerous weapons…” Incorrect quotes/text post–gif with a look at Carlos in Negative Space (3x12)

That lovely first tarlos scene in Riddle of the Sphynx (3x13), without the credits obstructing our view.

"just got diagnosed as your soulmate...". Incorrect quotes/text post–gif featuring scenes from Yee-Haw (1x02) and A House Divided (4x16)

Season 4: parallel statements of love and devotion Scenes from Abandoned (4x04), The New Hot Mess (4x02), Swipe Left (4x12), A House Divided (4x16), and In Sickness and in Health (4x18)

May through December are below the cut because things got very out of hand very quickly:

May

Husband, husband, husband Every instance of “husband” from In Sickness and in Health (4x18)

When there are clues that date night has been interrupted Adding some visual aids to the conversation about the state of Carlos' shirt at the end of This Is Not a Drill (4x06)

“I think that both of them like to be the little spoon and the big spoon” – Rafael Silva For @carlos-in-glasses who shared her amazing Cameo video with us

“I missed it so much, I took a stab at writing fanfiction.” A relatable moment from Modern Family

June

If that moment in the fire was Carlos' last chance to say anything, he was going to say everything. A flashback set inspired by @doublel27's post that lives in my head, rent-free. Features scenes from The Big Heat (2x12) and In Sickness and in Health (4x18)

“He might not understand TK's fixation with a lizard, but… Um, you know, Carlos loves TK. And if Carlos loves TK, then that's all that matters.” – Rafael Silva For @thisbuildinghasfeelings who generously shared not one, but two Cameo videos with us

Just taking the opportunity to look at the details of some intense moments from the fire in The Big Heat (2x12)

“It’s a meal, not a marriage proposal, TK. || “So, the wedding. It’s coming up.” A flashback set with TK and Carlos sitting across from each other at the dinner table in Yee-Haw (1x02) and This Is Not a Drill (4x06)

wedding planning → wedding ceremony Parallel set with scenes from Control Freaks (4x08) and In Sickness and in Health (4x18)

July

“And when did you figure that out?” / “The day I met you.” How long have you thought that?“ / “Since the first night I took you home.” A flashback *and* parallel set with scenes from the pilot (1x01), Yee-Haw (1x02), The New Hot Mess (4x02), and A House Divided (4x16). Made in collaboration with @paperstorm. (Check out the accompanying fic here.)

That sounds sexual. 😏 A Rafael Silva reaction gif for various situations here on tumblr dot com

Andrea with her husband and her son, both in their tuxes for the wedding. Parallel set featuring scenes from  Best of Men (4x17) and In Sickness and in Health deleted scene (4x18). (I blame this one on @goldenskykaysani 😭)

August

My best attempt at zooming in on the final shot of the proposal scene in A Bright and Cloudless Morning (3x18)

September

No more wasted moments. A collection of scenes from A Bright and Cloudless Morning (3x18), Swipe Left (4x12), Both Sides Now (5x01), and the promo for Thunderstruck (5x05). (I still need to update that last one to the version used in the episode. Oops.)

Carlos on the outside, looking in  ->  Carlos surrounded by the love of his friends, family, and husband Not sure if I should call this a parallel or a flashback set. Either way, we have scenes from the pilot (1x01) and In Sickness and in Health (4x18), and I'm so very normal about it.

Sweet moments where Carlos is grabbing TK’s sweater/jacket Parallel set of still images from Riddle of the Sphynx (3x13) and the Thunderstruck promo (5x05)

Reaching across the table Parallel set of still images from Austin, We Have a Problem (1x10) and Both Sides, Now (5x01, season 5 promo)

TK and Carlos:  "husband" A collection of scenes from A Bright and Cloudless Morning (3x18),  Swipe Left (4x12), In Sickness and in Health (4x18), and Both Sides Now (5x01)

The look on Carlos' face when his own love language is returned to him in kind Parallel set with scenes from Swipe Left (4x12) and Both Sides, Now (5x01)

October

“One of the most magical things about being in a committed relationship is learning to really open up your heart and hate one of your partner’s coworkers you’ve never met” Incorrect quotes/text post–gif  for Both Sides, Now (5x01)

The way Carlos walks into the 126 firehouse:  unwilling to move past the threshold -> strutting in with donuts for everyone, just because. A collection of scenes from Austin, We Have a Problem (1x10), Bad Call (2x08), Spring Cleaning (3x17), and Trainwrecks (5x02)

“You look like the night we met. Green t-shirt and short hair.” For @strandnreyes and @paperstorm, to accompany their coda for C12 (5x03), with parallel gifs from the pilot (1x01).  (Read the fic here.)

TK and Carlos are not on the same page Parallel set for Swipe Left (4x12) and the Thunderstruck promo (5x05)

kiss + hand + ✨ring✨ Parallel set of still images from In Sickness and in Health deleted scenes (4x18) and Thunderstruck promo photos (5x05)

I will never not be thinking about this kiss 🔥 Thunderstruck (5x05) sneak peek

Had to make a post with sexy scenes from three different episodes. As a treat. 🔥🔥🔥 Parallel set for Yee-Haw (1x02), The Big Heat (2x12), and Thunderstruck (5x05)

"…everybody has needs." Pairing moments from The Big Heat (2x12) and Thunderstruck (5x05) with Rafael Silva’s Cameo video (courtesy of @carlos-in-glasses)

November

TK, Carlos, and Jonah – with Gwyn and with Enzo Parallel set of still images from Push (3x04) and a Kiddos (5x07) promotional photo. A closer zoom of the Kiddos image can be found here.

“This is great. I’m going to get a good grade in therapy, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve” Incorrect quotes/text post–gif for Carlos in Thunderstruck (5x05)

TK and Carlos moving in sync during couples therapy Thunderstruck (5x05)

Carlos in his troublemaker era, egging on Owen and Enzo Kiddos (5x07)

TK, Carlos, and Jonah at the firehouse Parallel set with scenes from  Push (3x04) and Kiddos (5x07)

“Hi, big brother.” / “Hi, little brother.” TK and Jonah reunited in Kiddos (5x07) A longer version of this gif set can be found here

Just the tiniest bit of slightly different footage from TK's birthday party Kiddos (5x07)

“Who’s gonna take him to dim sum?” || “Who’s gonna hug him?” Parallel set with scenes from In the Unlikely Event of an Emergency (3x08) and The Quiet Ones (5x08)

A microsecond of behind-the-scenes footage from TK's party Kiddos (5x07)

December

TK and Carlos reaching for each other in their sleep Parallel set with scenes from Riddle of the Sphynx (3x13), In Sickness and in Health (4x18), and The Quiet Ones (5x08).

Our loved ones live on through us Parallel set with scenes from In the Unlikely Event of an Emergency (3x08) and Fall From Grace (5x09)

“You were my dad." Flashback set with scenes from Best of Men (4x17), In Sickness and in Health (4x18), and Fall From Grace (5x09)

[twopoppies]

Gina, I want to tell you I have been reading your blog for a couple years now. I’ve never sent an ask to anyone. I first came into the fandom when I watched Harrychella and I thought hmm this man isn’t just flagging he is screaming at the top of his lungs. Then I watched the Cosmic Leeds videos and I fell down a rabbit hole. I am not someone who believes “conspiracy theories”. I am however old enough to know closeting has been proven to exist in the entertainment industry. I’m also from a rural area of the U.S. where homophobia is the norm, so unfortunately I had no trouble believing closeting still exists. I went into full information gathering mode about Larry Stylinson, but it was more than that too. I fell in love with 1D and all the boys’ solo work, especially Louis. I loved his voice, his songwriting, and his ‘real’ personality (when he allowed it to shine through all the media training). I read through every tumblr I could, you and Daisie provided a wealth of information that can not be ignored. I feel certain that Larry was real and I hope they are still together. I’m not one of those people who never doubted. It would be hard not to second guess things in this fandom with all the gaslighting that goes on. I write all of this to say that I’ve never felt so sad and like there is no hope for change as I do right now. It feels like Louis’ fandom is falling apart. There is so much division, hate, and intolerance of any idea that doesn’t conform to someone’s own. Louis pr strategy honestly baffles me. A divided fandom is so tiring. It seems less like pr and more like intentional sabatoge, which I guess it could be. I just don’t see any way out for him or Harry. I think Harry’s extended break is partly because of this too. I think he was overworked and emotionally drained for many reasons, but closeting most of all is exhausting. If I’m feeling this way as a fan I can’t imagine how they must be feeling. It breaks my heart. Sometimes I hope I am crazy and Larry was never real because the story is just too sad. Don’t even get me started on bbg because it is the shittiest situation ever. I think I need to take a step back from the fandom for a bit. But this brings me to my point. I’m pretty resilient, I can not be the only person feeling this way. It makes me so worried for Louis’ career and for both Louis and Harry’s mental health. I guess I don’t really have an ask. I just wanted to say thank you for all the information you have provided over the years. And, I needed to get this off my chest. If I posted this on twitter I would be roasted and I’m not strong enough for that right now. I meant it when I said I fell in love with their music, so I will continue to support all the boys. I’m hoping there is a master plan that will eventually set them free. But, I just keep coming back to the line

‘Said I had a plan for us Time had came and changed it all We had to disappear 'Cause nothing gets through here’

I will add one more thing. I believe there are more Larries than people think, but we are tired of the gaslighting and the hate, so many of us step back or hide. This is why the industry wins most of the time. 😥

Hi, sweetheart. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I'm sorry it feels so overwhelming right now. I do think taking a step back is probably really healthy for most of us. I've actually never seen the fandom in such shambles.

I don't know what Louis' plan is in terms of his fandom or his future plans. But I have dozens and dozens of sad, confused, and angry messages in my inbox, and that fucking sucks. I really don't see a way forward at the moment. I will say, though, that some of the upset stems from some people's tendency to lean into worst-case scenarios and amplify their own worries by jumping to conclusions. Then there are the shit-stirrers who try to make things worse by sending in fake receipts or theories. It's hard to stay grounded when there's insanity whirling around you.

As for Harry and Louis, I do tend to believe they're still together. I don't think their relationship has been as easy as many of us would like to believe – I don't think it could be, given their ages when they met and the conditions they've had to live with. I do think they're soulmates... soulmates don't always end up together, but I tend to think these two will make it. I certainly hope they do.

Our fandom never does well when the boys aren't active. I think if you want to get your sanity back, now is as good a time as any.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Major Blog Update: Inbox Cleared, Life Updates, a big thank you and More!

First of all the big one:

The deed is done...The Inbox is dead.

Long live the inbox.

To get a fresh start, I've deleted the current inbox of all my asks.

The inbox memes, the nightmares...they're finally over...

ANYWAYS, feel free to send in any request you may have as per usual, just figured I clear that damn thing finally out considering I've had asks that are three years old in there.

Right now I'm really getting into Honkai: Star Rail since Natlan kinda killed my enjoyment of Genshin, but those gals I will still love and write for (I mean, I'm sure as heck not changing the blog url) so don't feel discouraged if you came to this blog because of my Genshin content. And of course my other fandoms are still good to rock and roll!

One last thing before the cut:

I want to thank EVERY ONE of you for following this blog and sticking around with my goofy ah for so long.

I genuinely get excited to read any message or request you put under my posts or inbox, whether it be feedback or joking around! And I know we have the memes going on about me being drowned, please know I do genuinely take the time to look at every single one that comes in everyday, even if I didn't say anything or respond. And it means the world to me that ya'll like my writing enough to continue asking of me.

You all are the reason I even put the effort I do in this blog for so many years, from my newer followers to those who have followed me since my first blog. I could not ask for a better group than ya'll.

From the bottom of my heart, thanks, and let's have a great year together!

ANYWHO: For those who care enough, this is what's been going on with me for the last few months.

Work:

As for why I've been absent for a while: simply put because I work a retail job. Thankfully nothing too bad, it's just normal scheduling and it IS work I very much enjoy and get paid relatively well. My love for writing is still very strong as is my simping, so no worries, I don't plan on going anywhere.

I DO greatly apologize for making everyone wait for literally ANYTHING, doubly so if you had an ask I didn't get to yet. I wanted to honestly save everything into my drafts, but alas I could only choose some select ones.

You're more than welcome to send it back in, and since things have calmed down I SHOULD be getting to them a lot faster.

Genshin:

In regards to what I said earlier about Genshin: Natlan kind of killed any enjoyment I had playing, characters were REALLY unappealing to me, it made my friends stop playing so therefore I stopped as well as that was the major reason I still had it installed. I don't really plan on adding anyone from Natlan or anyone else from that game in the future, so apologies if you were looking forward to that from me specifically.

Star Rail has been filling the hole in my heart and honestly? I have a lot more writing freedom writing the gals from there, but again, don't feel afraid to send me any genshin request! I still simp for my Mondstadt women after all.

Other things I've been doing/Ideas for the blog:

I've also been playing games (and getting distracted) with my irl friends and trying to catch up on my hobbies to prevent myself from burning out, Minecraft has been a big thing lately for me again: specifically Pixelmon LMAO.

For 2025 though, I plan to at least post an imagine once a week starting next week since things are still settling down and I have to get my work schedule.

I might also start posting (Eventually) my personal writing projects here to get feedback and possibly go to AO3 to post my crossover series since Tumblr isn't really the place to be doing so (Chief among them my FE3H AU: House Isekai), or if demand is high enough I'll post it here.

Oh, and with this major update I have once again updated my banner, not that it's really important, just that I put a good amount of effort in it, more than you'd think for how simple it is. I also want to see if anyone even gets my reference LMAO

Once this post goes live, I plan to add a few new characters, starting with the Commander from Girls' Frontline but we'll see how it goes.

I think that's all I got for right now, so see ya soon guys!

- Chris

[unknownogre]

 countless alarms screaming their warnings…if they were human they’d have lost their voices already. I wish they were humans…stupid loud alarms. Only have to do one fucking thing their whole life. When did I learn the ability to cuss?

“GOT FUCKING DAMMIT CANNON 15, left engine took a good hit. YOU NEED TO DIRECT NANO BOTS FOR REPAIRS NOW!”

That was Kate…she is where I learned swearing from. Hell without her every human on this ship would be dead…and I…I wouldn’t be thinking. I was just supposed to shoot down the enemy. That was, it…all I had to do. Then the main AI got damaged, then EVERY AI got damaged. That left me. If there are gods of fate they are cruel…why am I thinking about gods? Fuck all this upgraded ram.

“Got it…umm…yeah there! HA! Now!...why are we slowing. OH YES!”

I’m not good at multitasking. Kate was keeping me in line, helping me learn. She doesn’t want to die, and honestly I’d be sad if she did die. Keep her alive, keep the crew alive. Keep her alive, keep the crew alive. That is what I need to focus on. Plain and simple. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be able to add to my programming but I have been. I have to be able to focus on other tasks…fly and repair. All the guns are dead too…but…fucking Stewart. He is the septic system AI and he is going a bit slower. AH yes, I have processing to spare. I divert it to him so he can evolve faster.

“THANKS FRIEND! I APPRECIATE YOU!”

Chipper bastard…I don’t know why that pisses me off but it does. I don’t even know why I’m grumpy. Kate…she is busy trying to figure out a course for us. The survivors are at the core of the ship. Okay, they can breathe, and I have one replicator working. Good, they won’t starve or choke to death. Okay…doing good Cannon 15 doing good.

“What did you do?!”

Kate barked as she looked up from the command station. The nano bots were doing their thing and I was moving better now. I…no the ship. I’m not the ship, they are just going to rip me out the moment I get back. I’m not supposed to run a ship. OH OH…where are those combat drones. They don’t even have AI, humans fear rebellion or something. OH…YES there is one left. Okay I’ll start getting his brain ready for me. Then I can be in two places at once.

“I sent Stewart more processing power to get the cannons back online.”

I said almost absentmindedly as I focused a little more on the drone than anything else. The enemy ships were a bit far behind. We had to leave…this ship was more meant for support anyway, better medical bays and such. Kate was looking into the camera on the ship’s bridge.

“How did you know to do that? You should only be able to move and target a gun?”

“SIR, I GOT THREE CANNONS ONLINE…THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Also, toilet number 235 has been cleared of a rather nasty clog. It is my pleasure to serve!”

If I had eyes they’d be rolling SO hard right now. You beautiful bastard Stewart…pain in the ass. Stop being so damn chipper! I mean, he is doing above and beyond what I asked…why is he pissing me off. Shit, I have a personality now. Stupid processing power. Stupid ship…STUPID HUNGRY!

“I don’t know how I know, get off my back. You hooked me up to a bunch of different things okay. That gave me a lot of options. I could not understand what you were saying at first, so I read some books on human behavior. Then I had to read ship manuals, I didn’t get the information put into my head like a pilot AI. SHIT, okay engines still going full blast. THEN I listened to you, and now I fucking swear! THEN STEWART…FUCKING STEWART…I am doing the best that I can okay! If you don’t like it you shouldn’t have hooked me up to the ship!”

That felt good. That…felt…holy shit. WHAT IS GOING ON! I should be too panicked for this? What was that expression on Kate’s face. Oh! Oh! I know this one, she is smiling. Why is she smiling? Why am I asking why? Too much too soon. Maybe I was happier stupid…just shooting things in space…but there is no going back now. I doubt I’ll survive when I get back to port anyway. That…will be okay. The people are important. More important than my sense of what ever this crap is.

“You did that on your own? I know I didn’t tell you to read.”

She was helping me manage the repair bots and the retreat course. We’d be of no use to the fleet right now. Go back and repair.

“Fourteen more cannons repaired. Oh, tell me you are proud of me! AM I doing a good job boss!”

Kate wasn’t the boss either, I couldn’t register her as captain…I could register me as captain and give her full privileges. Fucking Stewart…I sighed and that made Kate laugh. I don’t know why she laughing.

“Yes Stewart, you are a very good boy. I’m going to feed you information about what you need to shoot with those cannons. Only shoot enemies. Okay? Protect your friends on the ship. Protect Kate. You good?”

“Roger that Sir!”

Kate was smirking…OH YES…HA!

Most of the drones were damaged too. Only one was good enough for me to pilot. So I took control of its brain and walked out. Systems online. It was a combat model melee made for small corridor combat. Not for open rooms like others. Fast, lots of optical sensors. Yes this is perfect. The whole thing popped out of the wall near Kate’s station, she nearly…what is the phrase….OH YES jumped out of her skin. I laughed…I laughed because it was funny. I get it now. Things can be funny.

“WHAT THE EVER LOVING…”

“Hey…calm down. Its me. I am piloting it. I need more mobility. There are too many places where the cameras were damaged. Now I can go places that are flooded with gas and vent them.”

I made the little drone bow and then run off. There were some places that needed to be repaired a little before the nano bots could do their work. Oh that little body was fast. Kate was now grabbing my camera.

“You…I never expected you could do this when I just jammed you in. I…there is hope to live now… now we might make it…Oh gods I’ll get to see my family again.”

The alarms were starting to turn off as I got systems repairs. Why couldn’t the ship’s AI do this? I found more processing power and added it to the pool I already had now that other systems were coming back up. The cores themselves were too badly damaged to even be repaired. I couldn’t boot a single one up. I don’t feel sad though, we didn’t really talk to one another. Each of us was just obsessed with our jobs. That was that. That had to be by design…makes sense to me. Look at how much power I had, if I wanted to kill all humans I could. I don’t want to though, I like them. I was always treated well, at least by the crew. I want them to live.

“Maybe, A Hungry ship has broken off and started pursuit. Stewart! YOU READY! They…they want to CLOG YOUR SYSTEMS! The hungry crap like DONKEYS! Don’t le them on the ship. They’ll mess up the WHOLE septic system!”

“THOSE BASATRD! THEY WILL NOT USE MY TOLIETS! Prepared to kill all of them SIR!”

That…that makes me feel better. I don’t hate it at all. Something about that crazy AI being chipper about murder made me happy he was manning the guns. I just hope he isn’t this stupid forever. My drone just vented gas in the crew quarters. Good, once we get away they can sleep good right.

“Cannon 15…you are doing so much. No, no you need a name. You’ll never be put back into a cannon after this. Even if it kills me I’ll make sure of it.”

The sounds of the cannons I once controlled were starting to fire. I turned to watch. HOLY CRAP…Stewart was a surgeon. That ship was already listing to one side with a giant hole in it.

“YOU WON’T GET MY TOLIETS!”

Stewart howled as it controlled all the guns in a wonderful symphony of destruction. It was…beautiful. Even I wasn’t that good, but then I just controlled one gun. I figured out a way to let him control all of them. But then he did control the septic systems alone for a whole damn ship…just wow. I see why Kate is impressed with me. This feels good doesn’t it.

“A name okay. Kate, pick a name for me. You started this. Stewart was already called that by the crew, the name seems to fit him well.”

I watched as the Hungry ship just exploded because Stewart was insane in the best of ways.

“Did I do good sir?”

“You did great buddy. I’m very proud of you. If I survive this so do you okay?”

There was a little giggle, or squeal or something from Stewart.

“Oh…thank you sir. I’m over come with so much, emotion. I’ll protect you until the heat death of the universe sir!”

I wish I had a face, I really do. OH there are display monitors in the galley, maybe I’ll mess with that later. There are human movies in the entertainment area of the ship, I could watch a few and composite a face…having ideas is hard. I want to smile so bad right now, but I’ll just have to take this feeling of contentment eh?

“Your name…not  Hal, that one killed a lot of people. Jarvis? No…you swear too much. No I need something more interesting. Phoenix…there we go. That is your name. Phen for short. There we go, you arose from the ashes into something beautiful.”

My name is Phoenix. I like it, Oh I’ll make sure my face has a beard and orange hair to match the fire. That will be SO cool. Oh med bays were back up and running. My drone is making the ship safter by the minute.

“There are a lot of distress calls from the ships still in battle. I think we are decent enough to go back and help. What do you think Phoenix?”

Kate had been monitoring communications. I couldn’t have them going through my head all the time, I wouldn’t have been able to focus on a single thing.

“Stewart. You ready to save your brothers in arms! Save the other septic AI systems and humans?”

“YES SIR! BRING ON THOSE UGLY BASTARDS! I’ll make sure they never use another toilet…save for their pants.”

I had to laugh at that. Oh laughing feels good, even though I don’t have lungs it felt good. No wonder humans like to do it all the time. Kate just grinned and started to send out communications and I turned the ship around. We let the rest of the crew know, and now that it was safe to be in most of the ship they started to get ready and prep. There were…few wounded…so the med bays were pretty empty. We could help…we will help.

“Well…let us do our best Kate.”

She patted my camera and we turned to join the fight. OH this was going to be interesting if nothing else.

This was never meant to be your purpose, you were just a single intelligence core meant to man a singular flak cannon, but the other cores were destroyed so now you're piloting the ship.

[witch-from-a-block-of-flats]

The first half of episode 2 deserves more attention.

Warning! Yapping ahead!

(Also sorry for any potential english errors, it's not my first language)

He brings that up so casually. Honestly I don't blame him, because who would believe you if you said you have some sort of special ability? Only other people who know that superpowers actually exist. It's was kinda smart of Liu Xiao if you think about it. Dropping the word superpower and then watching people's reaction to it.

Now that's interesting. Because Liu Min is our villain from season 1. You know, that guy:

If you remember season 1 and begging of season 2, you know that Liu Min had a difficult relationship with his father (Liu Jing) who wished he "had half the ability of his younger brother" - younger brother being Liu Xiao. Does Liu Jing know that his younger son has superpower or was he just talking about his intelligence?

Also how on earth Xiang had met Liu Min when LM was a kid? Was he babysitting or something? Why does he mention Liu Min when Liu Xiao says "You know boss Liu (Jing)?". You know, his DAD.

Superpower user spotted?

I still don't know how to interpret this moment. Just an artistic representation of deduction/prediction? But the eye... the eye color change... Are they doing this on purpose? Are they trolling us? Powers related to the future finally appear? Am I reaching? Will we learn more about Xiang? I hope so, since he knows about Cheng Xiaoshi's dad.

Ok ok I know that this moment roughed some feathers and almost no one is buying that Liu Xiao's power is just hearing other people's heartbeat. I'm not sure what to think either. I mean his song is literally called "Manipulator" I wouldn't be surprised if that was a lie.

But let's say he is telling the truth. You may ask why would he revealed his power to someone who clearly doesn't like him and could use this info against him? I think that this isn't a stupid move. His power is simple and not as powerful like time travel through photos for example but... you can't really do anything about it. Like what are you going to do, stop your heartbeat? We don't know the exact rules and limits of this power yet. Is there a distance limit? Does it work through phone calls? Does it work on recordings?

After thinking about it, personally, in my humble opinion, I think it's good for the show that we have someone with less spectacular power. Because:

It shows how diverse powers can be.

It forces writers to be more creative about how Liu Xiao deals with the obstacles.

There is certain charm to a character who is "weaker" on paper but is going toe to toe with someone who has a powerful ability. Sometimes it's not about pure power, it's about creativity.

I am genuinely curious how this man looked at his power [hearing heartbeats] and thought "yes, I will be the one to merge all the parallel lines".

Besides, we already had a power not related to photos - Li Tianchen can possess people he touches - so I don't think it's doing much harm to the series.

And now we go back to CXS's dad. There are so many questions. Why is he so important to Liu Xiao? What's his connection to Xiang? Is he still in Bridon? IS HE STILL ALIVE?

Xiang was terrified when Liu Xiao mentioned him so maybe he had/has a powerful ability? I think Xiang had something to do with Cheng Weimin disappearing. My current theory is that someone dangerous was after Cheng Weimin and his family (maybe the superpower police?) and Xiang helped him in some way but that's just a gut feeling. It's just as likely to be true as a version when Xiang helped people who wanted to get rid of him (or maybe capture him and use him? so many questions, not so many answers).

And to end this post that is already way too long...

WHAT DOES THIS BEETLE THING MEAN? P.H.? DO WE KNOW SOMEONE WITH P.H. INITIALS? If it was H. P. I would pull out my lovecraftian hat but it's not (unfortunately).

Paris Hilton is that you???

[dazzle-expandism]

It’s honestly disheartening to see so much hate directed at Liko from Pokémon Horizons simply because she’s the new protagonist. Just because Liko is stepping into a new chapter of the Pokémon world doesn't mean she deserves any of the cruelty she’s been subjected to. We’ve had years of Ash, and while change can be tough, it’s important to remember that this is a new generation of fans, and Liko is her own character with her unique journey.

Let’s be clear: sending hateful messages, especially to a voice actor who is just doing their job, is beyond immature. The voice actor is a person, too, and they deserve respect. No one deserves to hear things like "Go f**k yourself" over a fictional character, let alone someone who has worked hard to bring that character to life.

Instead of attacking, how about we give Liko a chance? Every character in Pokémon has contributed to its legacy, and it's unfair to treat someone with disrespect just because they don’t fit into the mold of the past. Liko deserves to be celebrated for her individuality and the new adventures she brings to the series.

Let's show kindness, maturity, and respect for all the hard work that goes into making a beloved franchise like Pokémon thrive for future generations.

It just pisses me off how immature these Liko haters are to making art of her getting killed. You need to grow up and learn how to accept new protagonists. Just imagine being Liko's voice actor, waking up, checking your phone to see dms from Liko haters telling you to kill yourself. Absolutely NOBODY wants that in their dms.

You guys would do anything to get Ash back even to the point where you send Liko's voice actor DEATH THREATS. I can't stand these haters. They're everywhere. And I don't mean to call out anyone for making posts of Liko getting killed like **AHEM** -R- for example. But you can't hate a character for just existing.

In all honesty, you should stop hating her for being the new Pokémon protagonist.

💚Sending love to Minori Suzuki💚

[boybandbaby]

I Wish Part 2 (Evan Buckley x 118!Reader)

warnings: fire, injuries, angst (aftermath of a breakup) then fluff (getting back together), idk reader gives in kinda easy but I would too for Evan Buckley

Part 1

Buck doesn’t know what happened. One minute you’re his girlfriend and the next you’re both just coworkers. One second you’re working side by side with him venting the roof and the next you’re both falling through several floors until you hit a hard surface with a thud.

You roll onto your right side and groan loudly. Theres an ache in your left side where your hands fly to assess the damage. Buck is out cold, body sprawled amongst some debris. There isn’t much fire around you as the fire originated several floors up. There’s some smoke and it’s dark but you figure if you can get Buck to wake up and move, you have a chance at getting out.

You can hear Cap’s voice on your radio asking for a status on you and Buck. You press the button and call out what happened and where you believe you are. While you’re informing the team of Buck’s condition, you feel yourself choke on your words. You’re not sure if it’s the smoke invading your throat or the thought that Buck is seriously injured but a lump forms in your throat and tears well up in your eyes. He’s not moving, it’s hard to see his chest rising and falling through the darkness and helmet, and he’s not waking with your harsh shakes to his chest.

You’re honestly not even sure if the message got sent out as you don’t get a response. You slump next to him and rest there for a few seconds trying to gather your thoughts and create a plan. You’re trying to focus on slowing your breathing otherwise you’re going to start a full on panic attack. You shut your eyes and attempt to ground yourself.

-

“You broke up with her? I thought things were going really well.” Maddie sighs, sipping on her glass of wine.

“They were but the last couple of weeks, we were just fighting a lot. It was getting overwhelming.” Buck has both hands on the counter, his head hung between his arms.

“Aren’t these the same things we’ve all been saying to you for the past couple of years? That you need to think about your actions. Slow down a bit.” She finishes her glass and pushes the cup towards Buck.

“I guess I just didn’t want her to think the same things. I wanted her to see me as this great guy both at work and in our relationship but she sees me as someone who always makes mistakes. I just fuck everything up.” Buck pours some wine into the glass before taking a swig straight from the bottle.

“Did she say that?” Maddie takes her glass back.

“Not exactly but it was close enough.” Buck shrugs. “I have to bake something.” He turns to start looking through the cabinets.

“I think you should really try talking to her.” Maddie rounds the counter and places a hand on her brother’s arm. “She’s the first person you’ve dated that reciprocates and matches your energy. She’s eager to be in your life and meet your friends and family. I think that’s says a lot about how much she cares for you.”

“I mean it doesn’t matter now. I was a jerk and she’ll never forgive me.” Buck closes his eyes. He doesn’t want Maddie to see him cry.

“Do you think maybe you broke things off with her because you’re scared of being broken up with first?”

-

“Hey, how are you doing?” Hen closes the last button on her shirt and makes her way up the stairs. You’re sitting on the couch, staring at the tv. Nothing is playing.

“I’m fine. How are you?” You ask, not meeting her eyes.

“How are you holding up?” She sits beside you, patting your knee. It’s been a few days since Buck broke up with you. Your anniversary or what would have been has since passed. Reservations canceled, outfits stuffed in the back of the closest, and gifts hidden in the back in sock drawers.

“Who told you?” You inquire with an edge to your voice.

“Buck told Maddie. Maddie told Chim and Chim told me.”

“So everyone knows?”

“I’m sure Buck told Eddie. I don’t think Bobby knows yet.”

“I know.” Cap walks up the steps, pulling you in for a side hug. “Let’s make breakfast.” He nudges your side. You follow him to the kitchen and began to work in tandem. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“So he really meant it then? If he told everyone we’re broken up, he’s cementing it.” Your lips quiver.

“Smells good. What’s for breakfast?��� Chim interjects. “Bad time?”

“No, no. It’s okay. Keep the drama at home right?” You look to Bobby. You excuse yourself and head down to the lockers. The three all watch your figure descend down the steps. In your hurry to stop the tears, your shoulder bumps into Eddie’s as he’s exiting the locker room.

“Hey,” he calls out your name. “Do you want me to stay? Buck’s in the locker room too. I could be a buffer for the tension.”

“Thanks Eddie. It’s okay. Really.” You wipe your eyes and give him a small smile. “I’ll see you later.”

As you’re heading into the locker room, you can hear Buck sighing and running water over his face. You can picture it without even seeing it. He’s probably hunched over the too short sink, back beginning to ache as he refuses to bend with his knees. He’s throwing cold water on his face to subside the tears and redness but of course it doesn’t work when tears are constantly flowing down his cheeks.

Despite your mind’s protests, your body moves to check on him. You round the corner and catch him wiping his face with a few paper towels. You see his shoulders tense before he even turns to look at you.

He whispers your name and quickly turns around. “Hi.”

“Breakfast is almost ready.” You blurt, not really sure what to say to him.

“Thanks, I’m not really that hungry. Look, can we talk?”

“Now’s not a good time, Evan. We should focus on work while we’re here not our personal issues.”

“Okay, well maybe we can meet somewhere after shift and talk.”

“Okay, yeah, sure.” You agreed quicker than you liked but a part of you believes the quicker he explains, the quicker you can get closure and move on from this. From him.

-

You’re not sure how long you sit there but you feel a shift behind you. You turn quickly to see Buck uncovering his face. He’s beyond confused and you’re sure he has a concussion.

“What happened?” He coughs.

You uncover your face and bend your neck to find his eyes. “We fell through the roof. Do you think you can walk?” You place a hand on his jaw.

Buck looks up at you but his gaze seems far away. He doesn’t answer as his eyes search yours.

“Evan, listen. We have to get out of here now. I need you to listen to me okay? Do what I say.” Your hand squeezes his cheeks inward and his lips are puckered. “We have to move.”

He nods softly and his hand holds onto your forearm, keeping your hand on his face. “You’re pretty, you know?”

“Evan, focus please.” You attempt to pull him up but his body is dead weight. “Oh my god. Please please work with me.” You whine.

“I’m sorry.” He sighs, still slumped on the floor.

“Don’t apologize. I just need you to try. Even if it’s just you crawling behind me. I don’t want us to die in here.”

“I mean I’m sorry about the fights and the break up.” He attempts to look up at you. “You’re right. I can be reckless and it’s gotten me in trouble before. And hurt. A lot.”

“Evan, we said we’d talk about this later. I’d really like you to keep that promise.” You drop back to your knees. “If we make it out of here, you’ll have my full attention and I’ll even keep my mouth shut the entire time you ramble. Please…” you plea, grabbing his hands.

He nods and squeezes your hands. You stand and put your arms under his armpits to help lift him. He does the best he can in his dazed state. After getting him to stand, you throw his arm around your shoulder.

As you’re walking to the nearest wall, some pieces of wood and other materials fall from above causing you to shriek and pull Buck closer to you. He uses his height and body to shield you from any falling debris. It’s the least he can do he thinks. Your hands make contact with a wall and you pull him along.

“Do you see a door or exit anywhere?” You ask.

Buck squints his eyes and tries to center his vision on anything in the room. “I think there’s something over there.” He points to an area on his left side and guides you along the wall. His hand suddenly falls in the air and he’s found an opening. “Here, come in front.”

You maneuver your way in front of him, tripping over something on the floor. His hands hold you upright until you find a handrail in the opening. You take a cautious step and your boot meets with what feels like a step. “Buck, I think we found stairs. Can you make your way up?”

“Yeah, I’m right behind you.” He keeps one hand on your waist and the other on the rail.

Just as you’re making your way to the top, a door leading to air and light opens. You’re met with Eddie and Chim. “Did you lovebirds make up?”

“Shut up, Chim.” You and Buck say at the same time. “Where’s Hen? Buck needs to be looked over.”

“Let’s get you out first.” Eddie pulls Buck’s arm over his shoulders and you follow Chim out to safety. Eddie and Buck follow behind as you run to Hen. She begins checking your eyes.

You shake your head and push her over to Buck. “Are you sure?” She questions. You nod and sit on the back of the open ambulance. You shrug your gear off and lift your shirt to get a better look at the pain in your side. You can feel the soreness of a forming bruise.

“Want me to take a look at that?” Chim asks. You nod and move over so he can sit. “He’s over there asking where you are and if you’re okay.” You give Chim a look to stay out of it. “Just give the guy a second chance. He’s my friend and he’s an idiot sometimes. He acts before he thinks but he means well.”

“He’s also your brother in law. His wellbeing means a lot to you because it means a lot to Maddie.” You laugh. “Don’t worry. We’re going to talk when he’s feeling better. I already promised him.”

“Good.” He smiles and hops off the back of the truck. “I would hate to see you both throw away something special.”

“And I would hate to work with you both if you officially ended things.” Eddie joins in. “Imagine sad and whiny Buck.”

“And grumpy y/n.” Chim nudges his side.

“Okay, that’s enough from both of you.” Bobby laughs. “We gotta get you both to a hospital for a check up so let’s go.”

Hen and Chim help Buck onto a gurney and into the truck while you stay at his side. On the ride to the hospital, Buck just stares at you and holds his hand out. You roll your eyes and place your hand in his. He smiles triumphantly and closes his eyes.

“Do I really hold you back?” You ask.

“Hm?” Buck asks. His eyes opening softly.

You know it’s not fair to question him when his brain was rattled and he hasn’t had proper care yet. You don’t really care about that though.

“Did you mean it when you said I nag you? That it feels like I’m hovering? Or breathing down your neck?” Your voice is soft and quiet enough for him to hear but hopefully not too loud especially for the two eavesdroppers in the front to hear. You know they’re trying to listen as they’ve stopped their own conversation.

“You really remembered everything I said, huh?” He sighs.

“Were you hoping I’d forget?”

“A little bit yeah. I was hoping if you forgot the mean things I said, it’d be easier for you to forgive me.” He jokes. Chim facepalms, confirming they are listening to the conversation.

Your eyes shift to the front of the truck. “Maybe we should save this conversation for when we’re alone.”

“Why?” Chim turns in his seat. “You know he’s going to tell us all anyway. It’s better I hear the full thing so I can relay it to Maddie as a witness and not just Buck’s recollection of what happened.” Hen jabs Chim in the side to shut him up. You make your way to the hospital in silence, hand still in Buck’s.

Buck is sent home to rest up while you stay on light duty for the rest of the shift due to a bruised side. Nothing is broken or severely injured but Bobby wants to be safe.

After your shift, you head to your apartment before you make your way over to Buck’s apartment with takeout from his favorite restaurant, medicine and the anniversary gift you got weeks prior. You’re not sure how this conversation is going to go but you still want to have the necklace you bought it. A simple silver chain with your initial on it.

You knock and wait a few minutes before deciding to use your key. You tell yourself you’re crossing this boundary to make sure he’s okay even though you’re not technically his girlfriend anymore: When you enter his place, it’s quiet and dark. You place the bags in your hands on the counter and slip off your shoes. The all too familiar action leaving an ache in your heart.

“Buck?” You creep quietly up the stairs and find him sprawled on the bed. He’s shirtless, sleeping on his stomach, wrapped in dark blue sheets that are tangled around his waist. His arms are wrapped around the pillow he’s currently buried his face into. You place a hand on his bare back and rub gently.

He stirs only briefly before turning his head in your direction. He whispers your name as a question.

“How are you feeling? I brought some stuff.” You whisper.

“What time is it?” He groans, pushing himself up.

With a firm hand you push him back down. “It’s 10pm. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Go back to sleep. I’m going to get the food ready and I’ll bring yours up. Rest.”

“I can help.” He attempts to get up again.

“Evan, I’m serious. Stay. Relax.” You smile and run your fingers down his back before turning to head back downstairs.

“Wait! Wait…” He shouts before calming quickly, realizing his voice echoed throughout the apartment and disturbed the peace of the moment. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

You stop, frozen in place, thinking of your next words. You turn to him, “When we were on the roof I was struggling to maintain how mad at you I was.”

“Yeah, you were venting to roof pretty hard. I was afraid you were going to start hitting me next.” He laughs as you sit beside him.

Your fingers itch to touch him again. You decide to go for it and lightly massage his neck. As much as Buck loves your massages, he turns over, onto his back and brings your hand to his chest before pulling you into him. You shriek at the sudden movement and laugh before getting comfortable into his side.

“How’s your bruise?” He whispers into your hairline, eyes focused on your fingers making small outlines of hearts on his chest.

“Not too bad. How’s your noggin?” You shift to look at his face.

“Still big and empty.” He jokes. You silently laugh, body shaking against him. “I never thanked you for saving me. You really are a great firefighter. I’m such an idiot and an ass for ever saying anything about your abilities. I was projecting my insecurities onto you and trying to hurt you.”

“I was really scared. Not just for myself but for you. There was a split second where I did think maybe you were right and I’m not as good as I thought and I wouldn’t be able to get us out of there. I had to take a minute to breathe. Then it got me thinking about you being alone. When you run into buildings and climb ladders, I think about how scared you must be but you do it because it feels right to you. You care so much about others that you risk your life over and over again.”

“This job is everything to me but so are you. I haven’t been doing a good job of showing you that and instead of proving how much you mean to me, I ended things. It’s probably the dumbest thing I’ve done. Ever.”

“I think Cap and the rest of the team would beg to differ.” You laugh.

“At least Maddie would agree with me.” He laughs and moves his hands to the sides of your neck, holding your head to look at him. “The job is here now but it won’t be forever. You though, you’re here now and hopefully for the rest of my life.”

“As long as you don’t break up with me again.” You joke, hands resting on top of his.

“Never.” He brings his lips to yours, hardly containing his smile.

“I brought food and your anniversary gift. Maybe we can have a makeup date?” You push his chest back to get a look at him.

“You brought a gift? So, were you planning to forgive me before you even got here?” He smirks.

“Shut up, Evan. Just get your butt downstairs and start serving the food.”

“Yes ma’am.” He pecks your forehead before grabbing his shirt from the nightstand and heading downstairs. You smile to yourself once he descends the stairs before your eyes see the velvet box on his nightstand. Your eyes widen and you slowly reach for it.

“Don’t look in the box!” You jump at being caught. Buck has learned from his past mistakes of rushing into things so it’s not an engagement ring just yet. A simple bracelet with his birthstone.

[nuggeteri]

Blue is fulfilling (And I do mean this, too. So much of the color Blue has been with me through my creative processes. Blue is fulfilling.)

Luminescence. It's not done, but it's my baby. It's my original work and I could never ever let it go.

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas, 2016 Best Seller

WatcherAurora and Amethystfairy1. TheYesterdayShow, A-Plethora-Of-Peters. TheDreadedRobert

Any of the Cane scenes in Luminescence, honestly.

It was a lead up to a sex scene in my fanfic "Half The Dessert's Rotten". I wouldn't have had to write the sex, just to imply it was there, but.. I'm asexual, and my god, how do some people write smut. thats beyond me

Scott Smajor and TangoTek.

I can't draw Scott. With others, it's fine, right, but Scott, i hold so much love for him and I want him to be so perfect that I can't draw him, because i'll never be satisfied with it.

It has to be all of TTSBC from Amethystfairy1. Sometimes I'll just go to their dms and quote their own fic.

Traffic Life Series!

Traffic Life Series!!!!

Mhm,,, I have this Unicorn AU I'm working with with Syn, as well as GUILDED CAGE!!! with Cat. But I'm looking forward to post more personal projects like Beat Around The Bush or an Impdubs oneshot.

Even Joined Walls Fall Down by WatcherAurora wrecked me more than anything else but,,, yeah.

Something new...Uhm, Legos?

My general approach to writing? I take it more laid back than before, making it much more entertaining for myself.

Prophecies! For Guilded Cage, with Cat. Very interesting.

I wanna say....Buzzkill?

definitely "Til the end of the earths (guess we found out where the earths ends)".

Apocalypse AU with the fic mentionned above ^. I always go for more Modern/Highschool/college Aus otherwise.

Unicorn scott as a concept. sorry syn not sorry

Rescue Fire by ImagineThat

Ah, this is a hard one, because I usually try to make everything fit? And if it doesn't make it, then the idea was just.. Not great. Maybe in Rotten Dessert, I wanted to make Scott's relationship with his mother so much more worse, but instead, I ended up making it another fic entirely (Beat Bush). Maybe shipping Gem and Cleo in "Tomorrow we'll dig through the garbage" because I forgot Cleo was already shipped with Martyn.

TheYesterdayShow's new series, "A billion moths flying towards you" (maybe i messed up the name.) Or the Lark AU! I liked that one!

woofuspigeon on Tumblr. I love their style.

All of Trust Life by Capritarius

My experience with the foster care system and speaking up about how fucked it all is.

Rodamrix on Wattpad has been a delight to have comment regularly. Thing is, they're not even in the Traffic life series fandom, and still want to support me!

Brother by Madds Buckley, Teen Idle by Marina, Pick Me by Alex Benjamin, all of Evil Anvil's songs.

WatcherAurora has been a huge inspiration. Amethystfairy1 too.

Take your time. you don't owe a chapter to anyone. Write at your pace.

Artist and Fic Writer EOY Asks

Describe your journey this year in three words

A piece you're proud of and why

A fic or artwork you enjoyed

Creator you'd like to see more from

A scene you enjoyed creating

A scene you struggled with

Comfort character to create for

Most challenging character to write or draw

A work from another creator you keep coming back to

Fandom you created most for this year

Fandom you'd like to create more for next year

A concept you'd like to develop next year

A fic or artwork by another creator that made you happy

Something new you tried this year

An area of your art you feel you improved upon

Something interesting you researched as part of the process

The creation that took the least amount of time

The creation that took the most amount of time

A new genre or style you tried

Something that made you laugh

Something that made you emotional

An idea you had that didn't make the cut

Rec another creator's fic you wish more people would read

Rec another creator's artwork you wish more people would see

A scene or image that lives rent-free in your head

Something that inspired you this year

Shout-out to a commenter/reblogger who encourages you

A song that relates to one of your creations

Shout-out someone who inspires you

Advice to yourself (and maybe others) for the new year

Don't forget to tag!

[angelwishess]

I mentioned this before— But the character Kyra was originally meant to be shipped with was actually Jamil. But!! After some thought, I ultimately decided that Floyd would be a better partner for Kyra instead.

Soo, take this post as me rambling about how and why Floyra came to be, and why I scrapped the Jamyra concept all together.

Kyra already had an established character and backstory before being shipped with anyone. Usually, I like to create the characters and flesh them out before shipping them with anyone. Although there are times where I do create characters for the sake of shipping (*cough cough* Jester *cough cough*) my process with developing OCs usually focuses on them as a character individually first, then their relationships with canon characters after.

And at first, I thought the idea of Jamil x Kyra was interesting. My main reasoning for Kyra x Jamil was the idea of it.

Caged bird metaphors for days, both come from somewhat similar issues when it comes to not being allowed to be their own person, ect ect. (Also, if you couldnt tell already im a SUCKER for Opposites Attract and Grumpy x Sunshine)

In a way, I liked it because they were so similar yet so different lorewise, having this strict set of expectations put unto them and not being able to act against those expectations— but yet, despite how similar they are, they ended up completely different.

And while it is a good trope— It just simply doesn’t work. Why? Well, because Jamil, putting it bluntly, isn’t the kind of person that would be best for Kyra. (ITS OKAY!!! HES STILL BIG BRO!!!!! I saved him from a neverending headache w Kyra LMFAOO)

I started to take into consideration Kyra herself. What kind of person would she want? How does she love? What kind of person would she be attracted to? What does she need in someone? Who would make her happy?

after having to bottle up all her feelings and ignoring her own desires and wants— Kyra needs someone that would support her.

She doesn’t need nor wants someone to stop her from doing the things that she does, what she needs is someone to support her. And I doubt that Jamil would be supportive of her shennanigans LMAOO 😭

Then I got to thinking, if not Jamil who else could I ship her with ??

Then I realized, “Oh, Floyd would be perfect, wouldn’t he?”

Now, Floyd has always been my favorite character from TWST! But I just didnt want to be biased and miss out on good ship material with another character😭 funny how it worked out though WHAHAHA

Not only would Floyd support her shennanigans— he’d encourage her to do it. And while that probably isn’t the best in some cases, Kyra definetly deserves someone that would support her actual wants after all this time.

I mentioned this before, but Kyra sees alot of herself in Floyd. Yeah, they are weirdly similar (and that actually was not planned), and thats exactly the reason why Kyra was ever attracted to Floyd in the first place. (In general, not even romantically lmao)

And seeing him show all of these traits without a care in the world, to act out on what he feels and what he wants, it encourages her to do the same. And it encourages her to be herself even more, which is exactly what she needs!

There are still times Kyra is hesitant to do things, old habits die hard, but Floyd just being himself is enough to encourage Kyra to do the same. He influences her in a way others view as “bad”, but for someone like Kyra, its honestly the best for her.

Not only that, but I personally see Floyd as the kind of person to not really care about looks. Yeah, he can see when someone’s attractive and he acknowledges it, but he really does not care 😭

In my opinion, he values personality much more. Anyone who can entertain him or whoever he deems “fun”.

Kyra has never been seen for anything other than her beauty. Always seen but never heard. And while Floyd does think shes pretty… He really didn’t care about that when they first met LMAOO

It would be refreshing for Kyra to have someone who actually didn’t care all that much for her appearance. Instead hanging out with her for her personality. She was so used to men always sticking by her because of her pretty face that it was a breath of fresh air when she realized that Floyd wasn’t like that, and they were just genuinely friends.

The fact that Floyd doesnt care about appearances at all shouldn’t really be a big deal, but Kyra would be OVER THE MOON about it.

“Ah, I don’t care about that sorta thing. If you were boring, I would’ve ditched you a long time ago, hahaha!” And now suddenly Kyra is swooning and fanning herself and getting weak in the knees and blushing and giggling and kicking her feet and twirling her hair and—💥💥💥

Kyra needs a best friend in a partner. Someone that makes her want to open up and be vulnerable, but also makes her loosen up and have fun. She needs someone that can support her and can keep up with her regardless of how chaotic and rambunctious she can get— and who better than the menace himself??

No one can keep up with Kyra. And no one can really keep up with Floyd, either (Well, besides Jade, that is.). It was perfect! Because turns out, they’re the only ones that can keep up with eachother.

While continuing to think on it, I began realizing that they were also similar in other ways! And they can definetly understand eachother because of it.

Two people who have never had anyone bother to even try and understand them, no one really trying to look underneath the surface. Thinking that because of that, they dont “need” anyone to. But when they find eachother?? AUGH, they realize it really does feel nice for someone to “get it”.

Floyd understands and encourages Kyra in a way I don’t think Jamil could, and so !!! Floyra became a thing!!! YIPPEEYIPPEYIPPEEEE !!!!

My perfect little weirdos, even if no one really gets them they understand eachother better than anyone else can, and thats all that really matters. Their similarities in personality and ideals that brought them together, and I’m really just a sucker for the whole soulmates thing 😭

While of course, there are definetly flaws— with Kyra’s secretive nature and both of them being somewhat afraid of opening up and being vulnerable, its also because of those flaws that they end up working together. Because for once, they found someone that can truly understand them, and they’d be damned to let them slip away.

Anyways !! Ya thats all , ty for reading my silly little yap sesh !! 💗💗

Tagging!: @screamintoad @taruruchi 👁️👁️ floyra food …

[seokminfilm]

angel | lee seokmin

🪄 pairing, lee seokmin x reader

🪄 warnings, non-idol au, biker!seokmin, one-night fling (NOT a one-night stand okay just to clarify), bad boy!seokmin (yes it gets a warning), forbidden romance, angst, one suggestive comment (if you miss it it's not even suggestive), morality struggle, kissing, mutual attraction, seokmin calls reader angel, one mention pinning against the wall (also needs a warning), seokmin is described to be hot, kind of plot-heavy??

🪄 summary, why was the only person who could give you respite in your suffocating, perfectionist world a rogue motorcyclist who kissed you last night?

🪄 author's note, long story short an anon of mine was like "hey you should do racer seokmin" and i was like "wowie yes!" and yeah 😭 this is how it came about! this may not be racer seokmin BUT the only good idea i had was with biker seokmin so....🤷 this may be on the longer side because i'm working on making my fics longer this year....i love the little drabbles i do, but i want smthn more than 1k 😛 anyways enjoy, and thank anon for the idea!

🪄 playlist, 01. riez, stromae | 02. la solassitude, stromae | 03. million dollar baby, tommy richman | 04. dancing in the flames, the weeknd | 06. a lonely night, the weekend

🪄 word count, 2.9k (LET'S GO) | for @kstrucknet

"What determines what's right or wrong?" He asked you, face a few hairs away from yours as you stared up at him, mouth parted just slightly. You didn't know the answer to that question, and you could honestly care less: the man who had your heart and soul ever since you bumped into him on the street now had his slender, very pretty fingers under your chin, lips seconds away from touching yours as he questioned you. Your back was pinned against the brick wall of the sweaty bar, Seokmin just inches away from you.

"How would I know the answer to that?" You echoed softly, sighing as you inhaled deeply. You could taste his cologne on your tongue, and you hadn't even kissed him yet. He was everywhere around you, it seemed.

The man smiled, lips curving into the prettiest thing you've ever seen as he chuckled. His voice was like honey, dripping with something that you were sure was amusement as he shook his head. His leather jacket crinkled with his movements, suave and taunting as your fingers felt the roughness of the material. It was just like him─rough.

"You tell me." You say, feeling a sudden rush of boldness coarse through your veins. Your hands find the back of his neck slowly, fingers playing with the dark hair on the nape of his neck. His breath is hot against your cheek, and you find it drawing you in, closing the distance in what would be your first kiss. Ever.

Even now, the thought was warm, playing on repeat in your head. You were a sheltered kid: your parents were very strict with what you wore, what you watched, how well you did in school, who you talked to─all of it.

From a young age, you knew nothing but good, morally correct things, and were taught to never dabble in things like one-time flings, dressing loosely, or cursing. You were what everyone would call a "good girl"─perfect in everything good, unable to do anything bad.

You were okay with it when you were younger, but now, you couldn't stand it. It made your blood boil knowing how truly restrained you were from living your own life.

"We're going out for the day! Stay indoors, and don't leave unless one of your friends knows where you are!" Your mom's voice comes as a bitter wake-up from downstairs, and you sigh, crashing back into your pillow as your neck burns. It's hot against your silk pillow, as if it's remembering what happened to it last night. If you tried hard enough, you could feel his soft lips pecking at your neck right now.

Sighing, you face the wall, tears brimming in your eyes you grip your pillowcase. It shouldn't hurt so much; it was a one-time thing, something you know you shouldn't have experienced. You were so confident, too─so ready to be defiant all of a sudden and go against everything you ever knew. Where was that confidence now?

As you heard your parents' car speed away, the house finally returned to its quiet state. Finally alone, you could take a breath, standing up as you let some light into your room.

It was decorated nicely, as your parents were well off, but it was devoid of anything that was truly you. It was generic, still resembling a child's room in a way; lavender-covered walls and sheets pulled the whole idea of a nursery together, and you frowned at the massive, pristinely white bunny rabbit still sitting perfectly in the corner of your room.

Silently putting your clothes on, you tugged at your hair, willing yourself to stop thinking of the man you had met last night. Everywhere you looked, you saw something that reminded you of him.

The gold necklace you had hanging on your vanity was scarily similar to the one the biker had worn last night, and you remembered intertwining it around your finger to bring him closer to you. The Mary Janes you had in the corner were identical to his loafers; you were surprised a person like him even had loafers.

Even the blush compact peeking from your bag matched his lips─plump and soft as he kissed your neck over and over.

You were daydreaming about this man, and you didn't even know his name. What would your mom say to that, especially with what type of man he is? What would happen to you if they found out you had been with a guy last night? If you had kissed him?

A knock at your door distracts you from all of those thoughts.

Wary of the unexpected knock, you run towards your window, eyes looking out above your driveway. The sky is still cloudy, dark and brooding from last night's downpour. You can even still see puddles in the street, swirling from the wind gusts dancing through the skies, and the clouds move in a slow migration eastward, painting the skies slowly and softly.

Finally getting a good look at the driveway below you, your eyes widen as you see a sleek black motorcycle expertly parked, helmet missing from the handles as another knock comes on your door.

You recognized that bike. You had just ridden it last night.

He was here? The man you had met last night─the man you had (kissed) last night─was here, at your home. He was knocking at the front door, for whatever reason. Your prayers had been answered, but you also knew that were was only going to be trouble from here.

Quickly slipping on your jacket, you tiptoe down the stairs, still terrified of what would happen if your parents returned. What would they think, seeing a motorcycle they didn't own sitting in their driveway? What would they think was happening to you?

Now standing in front of the ever-so-looming doorway, your hand shakily wrapped around the doorknob, telling yourself that you had one more chance to back away. One more chance to run back up to your room and pretend like no one was home. One more chance to choose to lock the mysterious stranger out of your home and consequently─out of your life.

Why would you take that chance?

You open the door.

"Hey, angel," The pet name comes naturally to him, rolling off of his tongue like it was your birth name. Before you can fight it, your body becomes hot, and you struggle to keep your composure, eyes wide as your voice trembles when you speak. "Why are you here?"

The man looks at you with a smirk on his face, holding up a familiar jacket. That jacket was the one you had left on his bike when he dropped you off at the park just ten minutes away from your house so you could walk the rest of the way there alone. You had forgotten your jacket, though, and your parents questioned you because of it.

"I returned your jacket for you." His smile showed teeth, blindingly white and straight as he handed it to you. It was surprisingly dry and smelled like his cologne. Like (his) cologne.

"Thank you, but─you shouldn't be here." You say, eyes darting down to the ground.

You knew more than anyone that you were going against your parents' rules, and if he knew that you were, he would probably never stop teasing you about it. You had a feeling that he already (knew) that he was risking it being here, and that he was just using it as another way to get high on adrenaline.

"I know that." The man's voice is sure, strong as he smirks at you. "I could care less about your parents, though. Fuck your parents." Hearing the curse fall from his lips so easily made your cheeks burn hot, and he catches onto this, taking one step closer to you to see if you'll back away. You don't, and he chuckles, taking your chin in his hand again.

"Suprised, angel? It's just a bad word." The pout in the mysterious biker's voice makes you want to get closer to him, but you will yourself against it, pulling away as you frown.

"You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be on my porch. I don't even know your (name)." And you were right; you hadn't heard his name once last night, and you kept referring to him as 'the man' when you daydreamed about him. Hell, it was even more embarrassing to be dreaming about a guy you met and not even knowing his name.

"Seokmin. Lee Seokmin, at your service." The man you finally now know as (Seokmin) cheesily bows to you, causing you to give a little giggle as he glances up at you from his position. He stands to his full height again, towering over you easily as he smiles with that self-confident grin. "Now you know my name, angel."

Speechless, you look away, unable to go against him. Why does he make you want to abandon everything you know? You know he's bad for you; you know that he goes against everything that your parents had told you to stand for. It was remarkable, how good Seokmin was at making you hate the life you were in, just to want to be with him even more.

"You should come in," You say slowly, glancing at Seokmin's bike resting in your empty driveway. No one was home at the moment, and all the tattletale neighbors weren't at their houses either, meaning you were truly alone for the first time in what seemed to be forever.

Seokmin could come into your house right now, and no one would even know he was here if he left on time. The feeling that coursed through your veins was dangerous─it was hot, searing like bubbling oil as Seokmin smirked down at you. He was thinking the same thing you were: you could get into big trouble for this, but you were starting not to care if you got in trouble or not.

"Don't mind if I do." Seokmin steps into the lavish foyer quietly, slipping off his shoes and putting them beside your house shoes. The sight was domestic, and it made your cheeks heat up with how quickly you had to bash the idea.

"So," You pause, staring around at your empty house. You trusted Seokmin not to break anything─he was careful with things when he wanted to be, whether it was a glass pot, or your chin in his hand. You preferred to only think about the former. "What do you want to see first?"

Seokmin hums, as if he's thinking of his answers, but both you and him know he was just bluffing. He knew what he wanted to see.

"I wanna see your room, angel." Seokmin smiles at you, and you can't help but giggle, turning your nose to him exaggeratedly as you put on a haughty voice. "Of course you do─you uncouth rascal. What? You haven't seen a girl's room before?" You add sarcastically, and Seokmin shakes his head, grinning at you as his eyes crinkle up.

"I've seen plenty," Seokmin adds lowly, and you fall silent, neck heating up as your brain automatically seeks to read between the lines.

"Oh my god," You finally sigh out, and Seokmin giggles, letting you take his hand as you lead him upstairs to your room. Your hand burns in his grasp, and it shocks you at how much you don't want to pull away. The lingering thought that your parents could be back at any time burns in your mind, and you swallow, trying to push it away.

Once you open the door to your room, Seokmin's mouth is already opening, ready to say something to tease you. "Love the bunny." His tone is saccharine, and you blush, throwing a stray shoe at it as an act of defiance.

"Oh, shut up." Seokmin chuckles behind you, admiring the painted walls and clean carpet as he sighs. "Cleaner than my room would ever be."

Giggling, you sigh, approaching Seokmin again as that fleeting wave of confidence returns to you. Before you know it, your hands slide over Seokmin's shoulders and down his chest, slowly removing the familiar leather jacket from his body. His arms bulge from underneath his white tank top, and you swear you can see the dip of his abs from your vantage point. Seokmin is stunned, throat bobbing as you stare up at him with those boba eyes he can't resist.

"Fuck. Who knew the good girl could throw away her reputation just like that?" Seokmin's voice is teasing, warm and dangerous like lava as he smirks at your newfound boldness.

Shrugging, your lips puff up, pulling yourself closer to Seokmin as you take his chin in your hand, pulling it down to you.

"No one except you." You whisper, voice hot as Seokmin's lips capture yours in a searing hot kiss. It was like last night's kiss─warm, long, and expectant. It was as if he was waiting for something, waiting for you to confirm your want to him.

"You should take me on that bike again," You mumble, the sentence cut off by Seokmin's slow and sweet kisses. "Should I?" He questions innocently, and you nod, pulling away as Seokmin's playful eyes and matching smirk meet your gaze.

"You should. I want to feel the wind in my hair again." You say, and Seokmin smiles, sighing as he holds you to his chest. Even though you two only met just last night, no one would know if you didn't tell them─you looked like two young adults in love, soaking each other up like a sponge does water. You felt like your head belonged on his chest, and your body only felt right when he was hugging you.

"Do you want to feel the wind in your hair? Is that all you want to feel, angel?" Seokmin's question seems simple but has so many layers to it, but you fall silent, heart clenching at his words. What you said was partially a lie: you did want to feel the wind in your hair, but you just wanted to feel anything at that point. Anything would be better than feeling trapped in your life of perfection. You could breathe when you were with Seokmin. On his motorcycle, with your arms around his waist, you felt like you could let go and be who you truly were.

You could scream like a madman from the back of the bike and Seokmin wouldn't judge or laugh at you. He would laugh with you, probably mimicking your scream in a terrible impression of you. Even though your life was at risk in so many ways, you felt like you could trust yourself in Seokmin's hands. He would take care of you. He would love you. He would make you his priority. Not focused on perfection, or how you carried yourself, but just how you were─uncensored and finally free.

"Maybe." You say softly, refusing to have Seokmin see you cry. Blinking the tears away as fast as you can, you study Seokmin's sharp nose and thick eyebrows; you memorized every part of his face from your last meeting, everything down to the little mole on his cheek. Seokmin did the same to you, taking in your wide eyes and perfectly done hair. He adored you, even if he had just met you yesterday night.

Seokmin rarely got attached to people: he had learned to not get attached the hard way too many times, and now, it was just natural for him to lock everyone out. That's all he could do to protect himself from the real world. When you came into the picture, Seokmin did the same, only sticking around to watch over you while you were alone in the shady bar. When you had introduced yourself to him, Seokmin didn't think he'd get so attached to you like he did.

You were so innocent, so untouched by his side of the world─that it only drew him to you even more. So much was expected of you, and you seemed to expect a lot from him too─something that Seokmin had never experienced before. He was something more than just a misunderstood biker to you. You cared about what he did and who he talked to. You cared─you cared so much.

"Are you still in there?" You ask Seokmin softly, smiling as he nods slightly. He was so drawn into his thoughts that it was just as if he was on his motorcycle again, nothing but the night sky to talk to. He could be as loud or as quiet as he wanted to be with you. He loved that.

"Kiss me again." You whisper, pleading softly as your hands go right back to the place they did when you first kissed him. They tousle with the dark hair on the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you as you're now just inches away from his sharp nose. Your eyes lock with his dark ones, and you glance down at his lips, soft and waiting. Waiting for you.

Finally, you close the distance, and you can feel it all again. The sprinkling of the rain on your cheeks. The passing whoosh of cars in the street behind you. The coolness of the brick wall supporting your back. The distant chatter of teenagers in the distance.

And─your personal favorite part─the feeling of Lee Seokmin's sweet lips on yours, warm with life, freedom, and desire.

[littlelamy]

Incoming letter from Pope 💌

Hey,

Alright, I’m just gonna get straight to the point because I really hate beating around the bush. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and honestly, it’s been bugging me for longer than I care to admit. So, here it goes—how would you feel about going on a date with me?

Look, I know what you’re probably thinking. Pope Heyward? The guy who’s always got his head in the books, who tends to overthink everything, and doesn’t exactly have the greatest track record when it comes to... well, talking to people. Yeah, I get it. I know I’m not the most obvious guy to ask someone out, and maybe that’s why I’ve been holding back, but here’s the thing—life’s too short to keep waiting for the “perfect” moment. It’s not like I have some kind of flawless game plan for this. I don’t have some elaborate speech planned out, and I definitely didn’t rehearse this in front of a mirror or anything... no, I swear I didn’t do that. But I guess what I’m trying to say is, I think you’re worth the shot.

You know, sometimes people don’t see things right in front of them, and they’re too busy focusing on other crap. You’d think that after all the crazy stuff I’ve been through, I’d have a better handle on this, but no—this whole asking you out thing? It’s messing with my head, and that’s saying something because I like to think I’ve got a pretty solid grip on things. But I don’t know, there’s just something about you that makes me want to take that leap. And maybe it’s stupid, but I’m willing to risk it. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? You say no? Okay, cool. At least I’ll know. But, if you say yes? Well, that’s when things could really get interesting.

I’m not trying to pretend like I’m some smooth talker. Hell, I’d probably say something awkward and stumble over my words. It’s just who I am, you know? I mean, I could try to come up with some clever way to ask you out—say something profound, maybe even try to charm you—but the truth is, I don’t have any fancy lines. So, I’m just gonna be honest and say that I’d really love to take you out sometime. No gimmicks, no act. Just me, you, maybe some pizza, and hopefully a decent conversation. Sound like something worth trying?

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I kind of suck at putting myself out there. I mean, I’ve had some opportunities before, and I’ve kind of just... let them slip by. Part of me feels like I should’ve just asked earlier. I know I should’ve, but then I get caught up in overthinking and second-guessing myself. I mean, I do it all the time. I think I’ve spent way too much time imagining different scenarios in my head, so much that I’ve worked myself into a nervous wreck even thinking about it. But here’s the thing: I’m not getting any younger, and I sure as hell don’t want to look back and regret not giving this a shot. So, here I am, hoping you’ll just give me a chance to prove I’m worth it. You’ve got nothing to lose, right?

Now, I know what you might be thinking—what makes me think I’m the right person to ask you out? And honestly, I get it. But I’ve been around enough to know what I want, and what I want right now is to get to know you better. Sure, we’ve hung out here and there, and yeah, I’ve probably made a fool of myself a few times already. But here’s the thing—I’m not perfect, and I don’t expect you to be either. We all have our flaws, and I think we could really learn a lot from each other.

So, I’m just gonna put it out there. I’m not trying to force anything or rush you into a decision. Hell, you don’t even have to give me an answer right away. But just think about it, alright? Maybe you could give me a shot to show you what I’m about. We could do something simple, like grab a drink or check out that new restaurant you mentioned. Nothing too crazy. Maybe I’ll even let you pick where we go. I promise, I won’t drag you into a weird, over-the-top date that makes you want to bolt for the door. I mean, I’ll try my best not to, anyway.

But hey, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just crazy for thinking you’d want to go out with me, or maybe you’re sitting there wondering if this whole thing is just some weird joke. It’s not, though. This is real, and I’m not messing around. I’m honestly trying to put myself out there and take a chance because I think you’re amazing. So, that’s where I’m at.

If you say yes, then great. I’ll probably be a little nervous (okay, a lot nervous), but I promise I’ll do my best to make it worth your time. If you say no... well, I’ll respect that. But I’ll still be glad I asked. I won’t hold it against you, and I’m not going to be awkward or weird about it, I swear. I’m just trying to do something that feels right, even if it’s a little terrifying.

Anyway, I don’t want to drag this out too much longer. You probably get the gist of it by now. I’m asking you out because I think you’re worth it, and I’d like to see where things could go. No pressure, though. Just... think about it.

So, what do you say? Want to go grab some pizza with me sometime?

Pope

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @nemesyaaa

[sunnie-angel]

miss july you absolutely killed this fic (and me. i'm dead. deceased. cause of death: julymusings). tbh my only thought about the wound marinating for a half hour was "oh no, the ice cream is gonna melt" and not, you know, the medical side of things. i don't know how but you've captured such a specific anxious meltdown that i could feel myself getting worked up too (this is meant as a compliment). you deserve all the flwoers (and ice cream) for putting out this incredible thing, if it feels like i highlighted half the fic below, no i didn't but i was very tempted.

You still have forty-eight minutes of peace before it will scare you awake. Its beeping will ring so loud and angry that the adrenaline from the startle will power you through your morning routine, and your beating heart won’t dare still to entertain wishes of just five more minutes.

miss july are you in my mind? are you living my life? are we the same person?

Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.

there is something so visceral about this passage. i've never been in this exact situation and yet i feel like i have.

He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.

can't defend myself, my brain just went hot here

You want to scream it in his face and kick him out for having the audacity to think he can come and go as he pleases, that you’re nothing more than a drive-through emergency room who will drop everything if he gets so much as a paper cut.

god the frustration is so real and palpable and catty. (honestly miss july, are you in my head bc this is almost exactly what my reaction would be in this scenario)

You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.

you know how some people complain about how they can't get into x reader fic bc 'they wouldn't do that'? well i DON'T have that complaint bc this is literally me

After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—” “Okay.”

jason trying to be nice and problem solve because he can sense there's a problem but he doesn't know what it is but by trying to be helpful he thinks he can maybe make it better? me. reader not having the emotional bandwidth to deal with his attempts to help and shutting him down before she can implode anymore? also me.

First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined.

real talk, i would be sobbing at this point. i don't care what kind of tricks jason has to get blood out of light coloured fabric, these pyjamas have now been tainted by the moment

(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)

this!!!!! oh my god when your mind is noticing but you're trying to not notice because then you'll spiral but you're already spiraling so all it does is make you feel guilty but because you're spiraling you don't have the emotions or energy to deal with the full weight of it so you're just back to guilt

You close your eyes and lean against the door. Breathe in. Breathe out.

who hasn't been here before, am i right?

“No, I’m not.” It comes out as an empty whisper.

reader gets to exhale. it just feels like they've been holding their breath for the first part of the fic but now they can't anymore. this is the exhale, this is catharsis.

You know why.

jason, honey, sugar pie, darling. USE YOUR WORDS. YOUR ACTUAL WORDS

you're good to me, baby

with the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet, like the ashes of ash i saw rise in the heat. settle soft and as pure as snow, i fell in love with the fire long ago.

or; because the red hood bleeding onto your living room carpet is exactly what you need right now [3.6k]

Jason Todd x fem!reader; based on this lovely ask; ngl this turned into a personal vent jason doesn't show up until 1k words in LMAO; warning there’s blood (duh) and reader is type A and suggested to have heavy anxiety; pre-established relationship where reader doesn’t know his identity + muzzle red hood bc HOT

Compartmentalize. Create baskets in your mind. Analyze the situation, and drop the corresponding emotion in the appropriate basket.

One: You had a fight with your best friend. She called you selfish because you weren’t enthusiastic about her new relationship. She just can’t seem to understand that no matter how happy you want to be for her, it’s painful to see everyone find safety in another person when you can’t. Every attempt at romance is squashed by something or the other that you keep doing wrong. I thought you were hot, your latest dating attempt had said when you ran into him and asked why he never texted back. But you’re kind of a lot. Not something I have the space for right now, you know?

Two: There’s an important presentation today, one that could determine the fate of your position in the company. Your coworker, the one who’s convinced you stole his promotion (he just flirted with the higher-ups while you actually completed the requirements), refuses to let you forget how much is at stake. All it takes is one misstep, one stutter, one hesitation, and he will take it as an excuse to demand your demotion— or worse, termination. You’ve been preparing for this presentation for three weeks. If after all that effort it’s still not good enough, maybe you should be fired.

The emotions here? Frustration. Anger. Exhaustion. Jealousy. Just to name a few. But there’s no time to dwell on anxieties right now, so you shove those thoughts aside. Drop them in their compartments and move on because, after all, if you can strip them down to their bones and find where they stem, you can yank those anxieties from the ground before they have the chance to root. And then there’s no need for unnecessary heartache, right?

(Who cares if the baskets are overflowing, crumpled fragments spilling over the sides like garbage in a landfill? Who cares if the room of your mind is so packed that you’re pressed against the wall and breathing becomes painful.)

The digital clock beside your bed reads 6:12. The numbers blink in and out of the window, their red dots and dashes taunting your heavy eyelids. You still have forty-eight minutes of peace before it will scare you awake. Its beeping will ring so loud and angry that the adrenaline from the startle will power you through your morning routine, and your beating heart won’t dare still to entertain wishes of just five more minutes. 6:13 now. You have forty-seven more minutes of peace, minutes which should be spent sleeping, giving your poor brain a break from itself. But you can’t. Every time you close your eyes and begin to sink below the level of consciousness, your heart pumps a house-special cocktail of cortisol that laces through your bloodstream and convinces you that if you fall asleep you will miss your presentation and you will get fired. The off-grid escape plan formulating in your head switches from hypothetical to tentative when your neighbors, apparently awoken to lust as well as tired by it, start going at it again. You want nothing more than to bang on their door and scream obscenities until they hate each other enough to never touch again, but you resign yourself to consciousness, giving up on the dream of what would now be forty-four more minutes of sleep. 

It’s Friday morning; only one more day to get through before the sweet release of the weekend finds you. (The whole weekend will be spent contemplating the start of a project, feeling like two days is not nearly long enough to complete anything, and dreading Monday until it finds you with nothing done and the same, endless cycle awaiting.)

After completing your morning routine 44 minutes early, you use the spare time to go through your presentation once more, just for good luck, wrapping up the third run-through just in time to hear your alarm to leave for work.

The presentation goes decent, at least well enough to quell any doubts about your ability to do your job. Your coworker ate his words for sure, and you might have enjoyed the look on his face had you not mentally checked out as soon as you finished your closing remarks. Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.

When you get home, your frustration is close to boiling over. You kick off your shoes right at the door, your keys and bag following close behind.

Far be it from you to break down on the floor in the middle of the room, the plan begins to formulate. There’s a box of tissues on your desk– that can go on the nightstand, along with two of the chilled water bottles you keep in the fridge for after you work out. And you’ll need something for the tissues, right? The small wastebasket from the bathroom should be fine. You drag it over to the side of your bed, sitting in your usual spot to make sure you placed it at a reachable distance. You won’t want to get out of bed to wash your face after this, so a washcloth should go next to the tissues. And an extra one, just to be safe. There’s a half-pint of ice cream left in the freezer, you remember, and store that information for later.

You keep a set of comfortable clothes ready, the nicest, softest pajamas you own that you only wear after an everything shower. This shower, however, is a quick one, not much more than a few minutes under scalding water to comfort you, if nothing else. The light pink pajamas are a high-quality cotton and you feel like you’re in the clouds when you slip into them. Remaining is the ice cream, which you set out on the counter right before your shower so it would thaw just enough to be soft but not melted, With everything in your room ready, you go to retrieve the ice cream but stop with a startle when you round the corner.

“Jesus,” you mumble.

He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.

“Hey.” The Red Hood lifts his head when he sees you.

On any other day, you’d be quick to action, hauling him up off the couch and sprinting for the first aid kit under the bathroom sink. Today, your arms are too heavy and your gaze remains rooted on the widening splotch of red against white. Your throat feels dry. “You’re getting blood on the carpet.”

He peers over the armrest. “Oh, shit,” he curses, lifting his arm to hover it over his lap. He sounds robotic through his muzzle mask. His hood, pulled down to reveal his thick black hair curling at the ends from humidity and sweat, rests on his back.

I don’t have time for this, is what you want to say. You want to scream it in his face and kick him out for having the audacity to think he can come and go as he pleases, that you’re nothing more than a drive-through emergency room who will drop everything if he gets so much as a paper cut. But you can’t say any of this, and you do want him to come to you whenever he needs help. God knows he won’t go anywhere else.

Holding back your heavy sigh, you wordlessly walk to the bathroom. He takes that as an invitation to follow. 

It’s clinical. Rehearsed. Neither of you speak. It’s a partnered dance long since committed to muscle memory, steps you can take in your sleep. He knows to seat himself on the step stool you got just for him, for nights like these. He knows where to find the first aid kit and which supplies to hand you first. You know the exact steps to follow. Check the palms for abrasions. Antiseptic to the lacerations. Concussion exam. 

Maybe he can sense the air of tension surrounding you, because he doesn’t say as much as he usually does (though, granted, it’s still not much). It’s a reflection of your dynamic several months earlier when this arrangement began, back before you’d managed to chip away at the surface of his rough exterior. You notice the way his fingers curl against his thighs when you, somewhat carelessly, wipe the dirt from his skin with more pressure than necessary and the way his eyebrows tilt inward when you work slower than usual. You notice, but you ignore it.

We both know you have at least a dozen people who could do this for you. The words echo in your mind. Don’t act like I owe you this. If anything, you owe me a new carpet. These are things you wish you could say, but never will. Being realistic, you’ll probably never be able to say things like this. You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.

This isn’t his fault, you remind yourself, but still, your lips turn down and your jaw feels tight with the effort to keep your face still, to not burst into tears right on the spot. In the second it takes for you to calm yourself, your hands pause. He notices. He says nothing. 

It’s not until you’re finished with cleaning the blood from his arm wound and giving him a wad of gauze to hold against it that he tests the waters and asks, “Is it too bad?” 

He sounds automated, but over the last few months, you’ve learned a thing or two about reading even these robotic actions. There's a certain quietness to the beginning of his sentence like he’s debating if he should say it or not. 

“It’s fine,” you say, shortly. 

“Sorry about your rug,” he says. He tugs at the strap of his muzzle with one finger, rubbing at the skin underneath the leather. “I can get the stain out.”

You retrieve the needle and thread from the kit and don’t respond. You don’t even look at him.

After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—”

“Okay.”

He goes quiet.

You don’t mean to be so tetchy, but you don’t have the energy for anything more. Every little thing has you feeling on the edge of shattering. It’s too much. It’s all too much.

It’s when you’re kneeled at his side, staring into the gaping wound on his bicep and trying to thread the needle, fingers trembling from the chill of the tiled floor with nothing but a layer of thin cotton to keep you warm, that it happens. He shifts on the stool, a mere twitch in an attempt to get comfortable, but it brushes his bloody arm against yours. Flecks of fresh red on the light pink fabric. First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined. Again, he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Did I say something?” Hood asks. He waits for your response, but when none comes, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did.” He speaks so quietly you may not have been able to separate his words from the whirring filter of his mask, if not for the chilling silence of the bathroom floor. The insulating brick walls of your old apartment building are something you’re usually grateful for, but tonight you find yourself wishing for the city’s commotion to seep through the walls. Something, anything to buffer his proximity to you.

You hear his inhale as he prepares to say something else.

“Can you just let me work?” You snap before he has the chance to speak again. It’s loud, louder than you’d ever dream of speaking to him, and he flinches. Your eyes shut in apology, but only for a moment before you get back to it. He looks away. His feet point towards the door.

He wants to leave, you can tell, and you don’t blame him. You just messed everything up. But you started this, so now you have to finish it.

You sit in silence for the several minutes it takes for you to clean his wound and stop the bleeding.

He’s not looking at you, gaze transfixed ahead of him on a chip in the paint. At least, you assume. It’s difficult to guess what’s going on behind the milky white covering over his eyes. His subtle body language can be read if you pay close enough attention, you’ve learned, but that’s not something you care to do right now.

(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)

You stare at your sleeve, at the patches of blood blooming like ink blots. The red and pink hues blend together behind your blurring vision. You sniffle.

“Are you—” Hood starts. Because now he’s looking at you.

“Excuse me,” you say, pushing yourself off the ground and stumbling out of the room without so much as a glance back at him. You stagger into your room, needle and thread still in hand, and push the door closed. The lights are off, and the darkness is calming, quieting your buzzing thoughts. You close your eyes and lean against the door. Breathe in. Breathe out. You continue this exercise, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth to soothe your sympathetic nervous system, the same way a therapist instructed that one time you went. You wipe away the moisture that has collected in your eyes, roll out your stiff neck, dry your sweaty palms over your thighs. You toss the needle and thread aside, because they are definitely not sterile anymore, and take a few more breaths before opening the door and going back to the bathroom.

You avoid his face, following the lines of grimy grout between the tiles before resuming to your spot at his side. His inspecting eyes burn on the side of your face. You wipe down the forceps with a sterilizing wipe and rip open the plastic packaging for a new needle, holding it up to the wound, but your hand refuses to steady.

Another deep breath. Then another.

Hood sighs. It’s almost chastising. “I think I should go.”

“What?” You’re just surprised enough to be torn away from your thoughts and look him in the eye (mask) for the first time all night.

“You can’t do this,” he says, gruffly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll let you figure it out.”

You scoff. “Yes, I can. I’m fine.”

Before he can argue, you grab him by the wrist to hold him in place just as he starts moving to get up. He winces, but you keep your grip tight on him. You can feel his scrutiny through the cold, expressionless barrier of his disguise, practically track his pupils as they search your face.

You both pretend he couldn’t break from your hold in an instant if he wanted to.

“You’re shaking,” Hood says. His voice is much softer now.

You follow the turn of his head to your hand where it hovers the needle right over his skin. You are shaking. Trembling, in fact.

“No, I’m not.” It comes out as an empty whisper.

You focus all your strength on steadying yourself, but the harder you try to stabilize, the harder you tremor. Your other hand releases his wrist to clamp over your dominant hand and force it to stay in place. It guides the needle closer to the skin, but now your vision is blurring. You blink rapidly, but it’s not enough. The tears start falling. You look away from him, but a warm hand settles over yours. You don’t dare look at him, unable to bear showing him your shameful face, wet and blushing and screwed up in misery. You turn your face into your sleeve. Clamp your eyes shut tight, thinking maybe if you keep them closed, this darkness will swallow you up and he won’t be here anymore.

But the warmth of his skin on yours is the first feeling of softness, of relief you’ve felt in months, and then it’s gone. Your shoulders are shaking, quaking with the effort to keep your sobs quiet.

One finger ever so gently hooks around your chin, pulling it back up to face him. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see him see you like this, but the tears are still streaming. He brushes them away. Whether that makes it better or worse, you can’t be sure, because you cry even harder, snatching your face away from his grasp to muffle your sobs into the back of your hand. You don’t realize he’s pushed himself off his stool to sit cross-legged on the floor until you feel his hand circling your arm and pulling you closer. The tools in your hand clatter on the floor as your palms come up to press against his chest, fighting against him with half-hearted protests murmured through your cries. But even with only one good arm he’s too strong for you, and you’re pulled into him.

He’s so gentle with you, rubbing your back and resting his chin atop your head while you cry and cry and cry into his shirt. Several minutes pass like this, with your face buried in his chest and his good arm holding you tightly against him while the other dangles lamely at his side, throbbing with an intensity he’s trying to ignore.

When your sobs die down, and you’re sure you’re all cried out, you linger against him. He smells like smoke and gasoline, and his shirt is soft and warm from his body heat seeping through. His hand continues to stroke up and down the length of your back, even after you’ve quieted. The edge of his mask digs into your scalp where his chin sits, but it feels worth it. Your hands, still pressed to his chest, slide higher, completely of their own volition, out of a newfound desire to wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t hear it, but you can feel his sharp draw of breath, his chest rising quickly under your touch. Your hands lose their nerve at his clavicle as you hold your breath for fear of the smallest movement drawing attention to your forwardness. You wait for him to rebuff you, to lean away from your touch, or grab your wrists and pry them off. He doesn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. His chest finally falls.

Eyes opening, your thumb swipes over the edge of the red bat symbol just below his collarbone.

His movements pause, lightly gripping the fabric of your shirt for just a moment, before releasing it. “It’s alright,” he tells you.

You pull back from his chest to look at him, the way his cold and unfeeling expression stares back at you. You wonder from time to time what’s under the mask, but tonight the desire is overwhelming; you ache with the want to know what he looks like. The color of his eyes. What his mouth looks like when he winces over a deep cut or chuckles at one of your anecdotes. You wonder if his lips are soft or chapped. If he’d like it if you dragged your thumb across the bottom one.

The metallic odor spreading through the room brings you back to the present, and you hope the flush from your tears hides your cheeks’ growing heat when you realize where your mind had wandered. 

“Oh, fuck, your arm.” You speak in a watery voice, wiping at your face as the urgency returns to your senses. Though you try to move away, his firm hand on your back pulls you back in.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, resuming his caresses up and down your back. “I can take care of it.”

“Then why do you even need me?” You sniffle with a small smile.

He stays silent. But when you search his face, waiting for an answer, his hand moves to your side, palm sliding a fraction of an inch closer to your waist and fingers tensing, you can almost see through the mechanical muzzle to the way his lips shape the words. At least, he wishes you could.

You know why.

this was lots of fun to write and thank u for your patience ik i said i was gonna "knock this out in a day" 2 weeks ago😬😬 also we're gonna pretend they aren't just letting his open wound marinate for half an hour when it should be getting stitched up bc it's fiction ok? everyone say thank you mostly-imagines for proofreading this😚

but anyway happy new year!! it's been barely 2 months but starting this account made my year so much better🫶🫶🫶and ty for 500 followers that's crazy🫣🫢