#but such incredible things are possible with the force

[cherry-zip]

─ • CSC .ᐟ Heaven

› content ┆ Choi Seungcheol x fem reader ⊹ genre .ᐟ smut and cute ending ✎ word-count ┆ 3,2k. ⌁ summary ┆perhaps rambling about how hot Taemin was during his concert isn't such a bad idea when you're dating Seungcheol. ⨯ content warning .ᐟ smut with a little plot, jealous cheo (good way), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), coming inside, light bondage, light choking, coming inside.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! › minor do not interact, you will be blocked

The concert was everything you’d dreamed of and more. Taemin’s voice echoed through the arena, powerful and mesmerizing, and his dancing—god, his dancing, was nothing short of breathtaking. Every move was sharp, precise, and dripping with charisma. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the stage, your lightstick waving wildly in sync with the crowd. By the time the final encore ended, your throat was raw from screaming, your eyes were red from crying at how unbelievable he was, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Getting to witness his talent in front of your eyes felt almost unreal.

As you made your way home, adrenaline still coursed through your veins; you couldn’t wait to tell Seungcheol all about it. You had been excited about the concert all week, talking nonstop about how much you loved Taemin’s music and how you couldn’t wait to see him perform live. Seungcheol had smiled and nodded along, but you knew that deep down, he couldn’t help but feel a little… insecure. Not that he would ever admit it out loud. But he had been so sweet earlier, listening to you gush while helping you get ready, even though you knew he wasn’t exactly Taemin’s biggest fan—for boyfriend reasons. But that was one of the things you loved about him—he always supported you, even when it came to your slightly obsessive fangirling.

When you finally unlocked the door to your apartment, still clutching the lightstick to your chest, you were greeted by the soft glow of the living room lights. Seungcheol was lounging on the couch, phone in hand, looking effortlessly handsome in his oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. He glanced up as you walked in, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm and familiar. “How was the concert?”

You dropped your bag by the door and practically floated over to him, your excitement bubbling over. “Oh my god, Seungcheol, it was incredible. Taemin is just… ugh, he’s so perfect. His dancing? His stage presence? His voice? I feel like I died and came back to life. I might actually be in love!”

You expected him to laugh or tease you like he usually did, but instead, his smile faltered for a split second before recovering, forcing a chuckle. “That good, huh?”

“The best!” you gushed, pulling out your phone. “You have to see the videos I took. He did this move during ‘Heaven’ where he—okay, just watch.” You leaned closer, holding your phone up so he could see the screen.

Seungcheol watched the video with a neutral expression, though you noticed his jaw tighten slightly as you narrated every move. “Wow,” he said when it ended, his tone dry. “He’s… really flexible.”

You laughed, completely missing the edge in his voice. “Right? His arms, his hips, and his abs—oh my god, don’t even get me started. I mean, I know you work out and everything, but Taemin is just on another level.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, his smile now firmly in place, though his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Is that so?”

You nodded enthusiastically, still scrolling through your photos. “Yeah, like, I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be that cute, hot, and talented at the same time. It’s not fair!”

He leaned back against the sofa, staring at your face as he crossed his arms over his chest, looking serious. “Sounds like I need to step up my game.”

You finally looked up, catching the hint of jealousy in his tone. “Aw, are you jealous?” you teased, poking the dimpled cheek you adored. “Don’t worry, babe. You’re still my number one.”

“Am I now?” he asked, his voice low and playful, though there was a darker edge beneath the surface. “Because it sounds like Taemin might be stealing my spot.”

You laughed, leaning into him. “Never. You’re my Seungcheol. No one could ever replace you.”

He hummed, seemingly satisfied, but the glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t quite done. Grabbing your chin so you had to look at him closely, he murmured, “Good. Because I think you need a reminder of who you belong to.”

Before you could respond, he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, his hands firm against your hips. You squealed in surprise, dropping your phone on your lap as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “And I think it’s time you forget all about Taemin and only remember my name.”

You giggled, trying to squirm away, but his grip was unyielding. “Seungcheol, I was just kidding! You know you’re the only one for me.”

“Do I now?” he asked, his tone teasing but edged with something that made your breath hitch. “Because you were talking an awful lot about someone else’s abs.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a searing kiss, his hands sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. When he finally pulled away, you were breathless, your cheeks flushed for an entirely different reason.

“Seungcheol…” you started, but he silenced you with another kiss, this one deeper and more demanding.

His tongue explored every corner of your mouth, playfully pulling out your own tongue and soothing every bite he gave to your bottom lip. He broke the kiss again, tugging your hair back so he could look at you—straddling him, flushed and beautiful. He loved seeing you like this, all completely wrecked for him. 

“Fuck, baby, you look so hot in this outfit. I can’t believe I let anyone else see you like this,” he muttered, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. 

“Gonna remind you why you’re mine tonight. I don’t want to hear his name again,” he said, his voice rough as he trailed kisses down your neck, making you shiver. “From now on, the only name you’ll be screaming is mine.”

You can’t help but whine. He knew how much his words affected you. He knew everything about you. He was confident when it came to understanding every inch of your body: how it looked, how it felt, how it tasted, how it reacted to his teasing. Tonight was just another example of you falling deeper under his spell, trapped in a hold you never really wanted to escape. And… you couldn’t help but love it.

He groaned deeply at your whine, sucking at your neck, leaving marks for everyone to see. He lifted his head to grab your thighs,picking you up as if you weighed nothing. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, clinging to him as his lips found yours again—knowing damn well you were about to protest with a breathless “I’m too heavy.”

“I’m strong enough”, he growled against your lips. 

He was right, you knew he was strong. Staring at his arms or his shoulders became a hobby of yours over time— especially when he was walking around shirtless at home, coming out of the shower, or even wearing one of those tight compression shirts you adored. He was working out to please himself and because he loves seeing you try to hide, secretly looking at his body without him looking. His ego felt good.

With ease, he starts walking up the stairs leading to your room. Unable to help himself, he gets carried away in you, having to stop and press your body against the wall, his kisses deeper than ever, travelling from your mouth down your neck. One harsh bite near your collarbone had you letting out a louder scream. He’s fueled by the desire to remind you that you belong to him. His kisses are getting faster, harsher than ever, his tongue wetting your skin with open-mouth kisses, the grip on your thighs tightening.

You honestly could not remember the last time you felt this wet, this good, this needy for more than kisses. All your thoughts and memories of the night flew out of your head—the only thing that mattered in that moment was Seungcheol and how you needed him more than ever.

You moan for more while he continues to attack your collarbones. He wasn’t gonna deprive you of your needs… even when being punished.

He continues to walk down the hallway, only stopping in front of your bedroom to open it - slamming it shut after entering. He drops you on the bed and starts undressing you, holding your wrists above your head with one hand, leaving kisses and bites all over your body. You're left at his mercy once your clothes are scattered around the room. He snatches a random tie of his from the closet and ties your wrists up to the bed frame. You couldn’t do anything, touch him, pull his hair, scratch his back, hold his biceps. You were only going to be able to scream his name tonight. 

Seungcheol looks down at you, smirking at what he is planning for you inside his head. The way he looked at you made you feel good inside your stomach; just his eyes on you could boost your confidence. Right now, it was a little bit different, you were so needy for him, you wanted him.

“Cheol, please, touch me.” You breathed out. However, he quickly shushed you and went down on your body, leaving kisses on his way between your legs. Grabbing your legs, he spread them apart, kissed the inside of your thighs while looking up to see your reactions. He loved seeing you close your eyes to savour this feeling, breathing heavier in anticipation. He couldn’t help but smile as he kissed and licked your pussy.

“Cheol- ah fuck.” Your back arched from the bed, your hips bucking into his mouth as his tongue entered your pussy. Rapidly increasing the speed of his movement inside you, his thumb found your clit. He was pressing and circling it just the way he knew would push you closer to the edge. 

“I’m so close, please don’t stop - please.” He sucks and licks harder at your inside, then everything stops. Seungcheol gets up from between your legs, licking his lips from your juice, smirking, watching you groan and squirming in need of release. 

“You really think I’m gonna let you come that easily?” Seungcheol sucks roughly on the hickey he placed above one of your nipples, biting into it making you moan in pleasure. “Want to cum so badly baby? You know how it is when you’re being punished.. Unless, do you still want Taemin ?”

“No,.. not Taemin. Just you, you, I want you.” You breathed out quickly, his face in your neck, his soft hair tickling your sensitive skin..

“You sure, baby? You seemed pretty excited about him just now.. Was I mistaken, or did something change your mind?” His fingers back to playing with your pussy, circling your clit with his thumb as two fingers slipped back into your hole. Moaning and dropping your head back as he moves his fingers inside you. Seungcheol groans against your neck as he feels your walls squeeze around his fingers. His dick was growing inside his grey sweatpants just from hearing you, the sounds you’re making was music to his ears. His fingers set a fast pace to drag you close to the edge again.

“Please ch-cheol. I’m sorry please - please fuck me.” You were desperate to come at this point, tears were forming in your eyes. Of course, Seungcheol couldn’t help but be satisfied, watching you stare at his face, mouth open, and glossy eyes. He wanted to make you forget about Taemin, and he did.

“Do you deserve it, baby ?” His smirk never leaves his face as he caresses your cheek with his other hand.

“YES! Please, yes, yes, yes! Cheol, I’m begging you.”

His gaze locked with yours—loving,  for just a moment–he felt so lucky to have you. He slipped his fingers out of you and untied your wrists, kissing each of them before turning you over onto your stomach. 

“On all fours, baby,” he demanded, tapping your hips and making room for you to undress. He unbuckled his belt and pants, throwing them across the room while you patiently waited on your knees with your ass on full display. You were growing impatient, swaying your ass in front of him, earning a firm slap for you to calm down. You could feel the mattress sink as Seungcheol positioned himself behind you, gripping your waist, dragging you closer to him. 

You knew he was smirking when you felt him tease your cunt with the tip of his cock, and it only grew wider when you whined for more. He continued teasing you, slowly pushing until he settled deep inside of you., resting for a moment, groaning as you squeezed around him - he was so big, you felt so full. He slowly slides out of you before gripping your waist tighter, thrusting into you without any warning. You moaned for more, needed more, you wanted him to move and almost destroy you from the inside. 

“Please, Cheol.. Harder”, he didn't say anything and simply chose to act. His thrusts were aggressive and deep. Your hands are holding on to the bed sheets to keep steady, gripping as he fucked you as hard as he could. You asked for it– from your behaviour and words– and he was delivering it all. Your hips matched his rhythm, meeting him in the middle of his thrusts, causing Seungcheol to groan at each thrust.

Your insides were twitching around him, which was hinting that your high was close. He knew you were close, and you honestly thought he was going to close down again, teasing you until the end, but you were so wrong. He slides out of you to turn you around so he could see your fucked out face. He thrusted deep into you, you threw your head back as your eyes rolled back. He loved seeing your reactions, his hand came to wrap around your throat, slightly squeezing it for you to look at him. Satisfied to see you look at him, mouth open, whining his name - he began to fuck you harder than before. His dick so big inside of you, none stop kissing that special spot of yours, pushing you further to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you told him, breath heavy.

“Seungcheol! I’m gonna cum, cheol..” you were panting but you got no answers. He didn’t seem to stop either, he kept his thrust inside of you steady.

“I’m not going to stop fucking your pretty pussy just yet. I’ll keep on going until I get to cum. I told you, I’ll make you remember only my name. You might as well scream it so loud even the neighbours know my name.” his grip on your throat was tighter, he meant every word he said. He didn't stop his movements, as if it was possible, he got rougher, making you come on the spot, and he kept going. 

You were completely fucked out for him, he was using you, making you his. You chanted his name over and over again, not growing tired of saying it. He won this time. 

Seungcheol’s groans got louder and louder. He called your name as his grip on your throat and waist tightened. He was on the edge of coming.

“Do you want me to come inside your pussy or no? Do you deserve it?” He asked, even throwing some more teasing as he was close to coming.

“Inside, I want you inside–please.”

And then, it hits you–you both came undone, hard, his trust deep, and stopped all his movements. You could feel your inside getting filled by his hot cum, coming so much your inside felt full. He pulled out of you smiling at himself to admire his work of art, his cum dripping out of you. He caressed your body, calming you as you came down from your high. This orgasm felt so good, your breath heavy as you watched him admire you, his eyes were full of love.

“Maybe I should make you jealous more often, it looks good on you”, you laughed at him and pulled him by the neck to kiss him on the lips.

“Shut up, I’m not jealous.” He had no reason to be; you were his, but you loved seeing him jealous regardless. You felt love.

The apartment was quiet again, the only sound you could hear was the soft rustling of sheets and mingled breaths. You lay curled against Seungcheol’s chest, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

“So,” he said after a long moment, his voice casual but with a hint of amusement. “Still thinking about Taemin?”

You laughed, slapping his chest lightly. “Not even a little. You made sure of that.”

“Good,” he said, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. “Just remember—you’re mine.”

“Always,” you replied, snuggling closer. “But just so you know, I’m totally going to his next concert.”

Seungcheol groaned, burying his face in your hair. “You’re impossible.”

You giggled, pressing a kiss to his chest. “And you’re jealous. But don’t worry—I’ll always come home to you.”

“You better,” he muttered, though there was no real heat behind his words. “Or I’ll have to remind you again.”

You smiled, your eyes drifting shut. “I’m counting on it.”

You woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of Seungcheol humming in the kitchen. You stretched lazily, your body was sore, but you wore a contented smile on your face as you remembered the events of the previous night. Seungcheol had definitely made his point, and you couldn’t help but feel a little smug about it.

You padded into the kitchen, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “Morning,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his shirtless back.

“Morning,” he replied, turning around to kiss you properly. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” you said with a grin. “Thanks to you.”

He smirked, handing you a cup of coffee. “Good. Just remember who’s responsible for that.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of the coffee. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning against the counter. “But you love me anyway.”

“I do,” you admitted, smiling up at him. “Even if you are a little jealous.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Jealous? Me? Never.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sure, Seungcheol. Whatever you say.”

He pulled you closer, his expression turning serious for a moment. “Just remember—you’re mine. No matter how many concerts you go to.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with affection. “I know. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! › anonymous review form & join my taglist

@ credits┆big big thank you @kyeomofhearts for beta reading & @kwanisms for the help on the banner vibe ☆彡

☘︎ taglist: @zozojella, @shinysobi, @kyeomofhearts, @codeinebelle, @eclipsaria, @nerdycheol

‧₊ ᵎᵎ “CHERRY.zip" 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

[lapdogchase]

i like[1] this website because a joke post u made in 3 seconds[2] vaguely complaining about something that does not matter[3] will get 15k notes in a matter of days and then people will misinterpret it in wild & unpredictable & cynical ways possible. Like before responding in a hostile manner to a post maybe stop[4] and go "is it possible that op did not set out to make a post commenting in a serious manner about a serious problem"[5] "is it possible that op did not sit down before posting to ensure that there is no possible way their[6] post could be read in a bad light"[7] "am i picking up on an implication that is actually there or are my own life experiences informing my view of this post in a way that may not be accurate"[8] etc. like would it kill[9] people to be a little less quick to lash out when it is fully possible they may be misunderstanding something[10]

---

[1] this is sarcasm, i do not like when people do this.

[2] this is an exaggeration, it often takes more than three seconds to type a post.

[3] sometimes a post may be complaining about something that Does matter. this post is not claiming that most or all posts are about something that does not matter. likewise, the idea that something "doesn't matter" has been used to downplay the struggles of marginalized communities, and some things online do, in fact, matter. this post, however, is about shit that does not matter

[4] OP is not insisting you do this. there is no manipulation, coercion, or violation of consent; you are not forced to do anything you don't want to to. you are not being silenced or censored.

[5] the original poster may have meant to make a silly post about a serious issue, or a silly post about a silly issue. oftentimes, posts are not meant to be all-encompassing thesis statements on broad social issues addressing all the possible pitfalls of a certain argument as well as what lends credence to it

[6] the use of the neutral pronoun "they" in this sentence is due to its reference to a hypothetical person or group of people rather than any specific individual who may or may not use they/them pronouns. it is not an attempt to actively misgender or degender anybody. for further clarity, OP is fully supportive of trans and nonbinary people and is in fact a member of the trans community

[7] while OP has ocd, it seems an unnecessary addition to this post, but he has noticed a trend of general anxiety-related behaviors being attributed to ocd when that is not necessarily the cause of such behaviors. he therefore finds it worth saying that people without ocd who have been on tumblr for a long time are also prone to this behavior, as being misinterpreted is incredibly common online, and does not necessarily indicate the presence of obsessive-compulsive disorder. i.e., sometimes people just worry about stuff

[8] accurate meaning, here, accurate to the intent of the original poster. it is not meant to state that a person's emotions about a post are "wrong" or that they are misinterpreting their own feelings. additionally, it is reasonable that a person's experiences would influence their view of the world; it is equally reasonable to expect them to think before being aggressive towards strangers online

[9] this is a turn of phrase, not meant to state that any lives will actually be ended by this action. this footnote is also not meant to imply anything negative about those who experience anxiety around the concept of death

[10] OP is relinquishing himself from the responsibility[11] of this post[12]. if it gains sentience and runs off to colorado to rob a bank and go on a killing spree that is not his fault

[11] whether or not a person can truly be relinquished from the consequences of any of their actions is a matter of debate irrelevant to this post

[12] OP is aware that this post opens him up to receiving many identical and increasingly unfunny comments intentionally misconstruing his words or intentions. he is nicely asking you not to do that because it's very exhausting

[b3ach-bunn7]

OPEN ARMS

Touya is bored in the back rooms of comic con, where you and your nephew accidentally find him

support course Touya, they found him he’s alive and well, two povs

—————————————————————————-

Touya is not embarrassed that he works in the support field of the hero world.

Not everyone is destined to be a hero. Sure, it stings that his little brother is one of the top ten pros in Japan. And sure, it stings a little more that it was supposed to be him if his father's twisted little training program had gone the way it should’ve. He was the one who was supposed to be a hero, what with his incredible fire quirk and all. It’s just his luck that his quirk was too powerful for him to handle, and all his dreams had ended in a fiery inferno on Sekoto peak.

The doctors said Touya was lucky to even be able to walk after what happened to him. Touya doesn’t think it’s very lucky to have a body full of scars or an unusable quirk, but he counts his blessings where he can get them.

He’s come to terms with it at least. He thinks the counselling he’d been forced to go to for a year had beat the determination to prove everyone wrong out of him. It also gave him the realisation that now, his fathers attentive, controlling personality was all focused on his sweet little brother Shoto. Pre-counselling Touya probably would’ve turned to a life of crime, but therapy got to him first. 

So, instead of fighting villains, Touya sits behind a desk and designs hero gear.

For his brother specifically. Turns out even perfect Shoto’s quirk has its ups and downs, and Touya’s gadgets were some of the best. He had graduated top of his class, after all. And it’s nice, if he’s being entirely honest. There’s a weird sort of bond the two had formed, the endless hours spent together in his lab and tweaking over the little details in designs. It’s all a little too sappy for Touya’s tastes, but it’s nice.

But this. These stupid hero events are what Touya hates the most. 

These aren’t the formal ones. No, these are the conventions filled to brim with over-excited fans dressed in mediocre cosplay. At least the fancy events he can stomach, what with the open bar and pretty heroes all dolled up for him to flirt with. But this? The sweaty teenagers and overpriced memorabilia are all things Touya can do without. He has no idea why he even has to go to these things. His mother says it’s in case Shoto needs anything from him but what could he possibly require? Touya is sure the little kids clamouring for an autograph on their IcyHot themed water bottles are no threat to his gear. And yet, he still finds himself sitting in a room on some random corridor, idly working on some new tech.

It’s all his mothers fault. All it takes is one look, one tilt of her head and he’s doing whatever the hell she asks of him.

Touya huffs. He scratches at the worn out collar of his shirt. The lettering on the front is worn down, specks of yellow scattered across his chest. It’s hot, and his jeans stick to his legs and he wishes there was a wide enough window in here so he could smoke. The designs in front of him are mediocre at best, sloppy work that he knows he’ll have to go over again. Anything to kill some time.

He wonders how pissed mom will be if he bails. He doesn’t think he should be blamed, honestly. It’s so horrifically boring here.

That is, until he hears a loud thud, the sound of the door to his private little room slamming into the wall. There’s a kid on the other side of it, in a poor rendition of Shoto’s hero costume, and a woman runs in shortly after him. A pretty woman.

Maybe this day isn’t so boring after all.

———

You’re going to be arrested for breaking and entering. With a seven year old child, no less.

Today was supposed to be fun. Busy, crowded, comic convention fun. But instead, youre in a random room in a random corridor where you definitely should not be. It might be a tad bit your fault. You love Kenzo like he’s your own. He’s your first ever nephew, young and gap-toothed and adorable. But he’s hyper on a normal day so a one as exciting as today should’ve had you on a higher alert than you were. Especially with how over-excited he was to meet his favourite pro hero.  

You like Shoto. As much as someone can like a celebrity without it being creepy. If you’re being entirely honest, you don’t really get the hype about pros, but Kenzo is quite the opposite. He’s obsessed, down to his IcyHot socks up to his IcyHot cap. You’d paid an obscene amount of money to get him these tickets. VIP all day passes for the weekend, with a hero meet and greet included. It was expensive. Very expensive, but you loved Kenzo and you also loved being his favourite aunt who gave him his favourite birthday gift.

It was all going well. Aside from a couple crowded escalators and merchandise you’d been forced to buy, Kenzo was behaving himself. He's usually quite rowdy if you’re being brutally honest, but the promise of seeing Shoto had him on his best behaviour.

That is, until you get lost.

It was inevitable really. The map you’d been given at the front desk was hard to read. And honestly, you’re quite useless when it comes to directions anyway. The heat that presses against your skin and Kenzo’s incessant tugging on your sleeve doesn’t help your brain work. You’re sweating, even in the tank top you have on, and the constant noise humming around you doesn’t help.

“Kenzo, please stop pulling my shirt, I’m trying!”

He whines, loud and tinny in your ears. “Come on, the line is gonna be huge by the time we get there!”

You ease his little fingers off. “Okay, so. I think if we go to… the third floor? The meet and greet is there?”

Kenzo groans. You shoot him a glare at the back of his head. You’ll never have kids. One day of whining and you don’t think you can handle any more. 

The map is confusing even without your stupidity. There's a key on the side with about one hundred labels on it cramped in the corner, and you’re shocked anyone can get around with this thing. But, after another few seconds, you think you might have it figured out. You can just walk in a direction and you’ll find your way.

“Okay. I think I found it! Let’s-”

You glance down to where he’d been having a tantrum on the floor. And he’s gone. A cold chill spills down your spine and your head darts up. 

“Kenzo? Kenzo, what-”

You look around, your heart beating faster than it ever has. You call out his name, and people around you turn. It feels a bit surreal, a hall full of cosplaying heroes that can’t help you find your missing nephew.

You’re sisters going to kill you for losing her kid. You’re going to kill yourself for losing her kid.

And then you see it. A red and white cap that looks exactly like the one you’d bought Kenzo half an hour ago. 

You push forward through the crowd, trainers squeaking against the floor as you call his name. And he turns to you, and it’s the steely determination in his eyes that makes your panic worsen.

“Kenzo, get back here!”

“No! I’m gonna find Shoto!” 

And he runs. Seven year olds are fast, you unfortunately find out, and very nimble. He slides through legs and somehow manages to not fall over and he dashes across the hall. You apologise to everyone as you barge past, trying to close the distance between you two.

He doesn’t even know where he’s going. Not anymore than you do at least. That’s why, you think, when he comes to a random door on the end of a pretty secluded corridor, he comes to the conclusion that Shoto would be in there. You have no fucking idea why he thinks that, but he belives it enough to push through and you curse again.#“Kenzo, you can’t go in there!” You hiss. 

But it’s too late. The door slams as it hits the far wall and Kenzo rushes in. You follow quickly after trying to tug him back, but it’s too late.

The room is small. You think it’s supposed to be some sort of break room, because there’s a fridge and an island table. There’s wide windows on the far wall, and sunlight streaks in lazily along with a soft breeze that tickles the surface of your skin.

And there’s a man. Sitting on the island with papers and pencils scattered in front of him. A very attractive man, the longer you look at him. His hair is stark white, falling in waves across his face. His skin is marred with scars but you can see the lean muscle through them, anyway. His eyes narrow as he looks at you two, piercing blue eyes that look you up and down slowly.

Kenzo looks at him suspiciously. “You’re not Shoto.”

His eyes move down to Kenzo, who you think is trying to look intimidating. “I’m not.”

His voice is deep and a little raspy, and you have to pull your eyes away from him. You kneel down next to Kenzo and turn him to face you.

“Of course it’s not Shoto, you idiot.” You scold. “Don’t run away from me like that again.”

Kenzo pouts. “You can’t call me a idiot.” 

“I can when you run away from me.”

“I’m telling mum.”

“No, I’m telling mum.” You close your eyes, and take a breath. “It’s very dangerous what you did, Kenzo. Please don’t do that again.”

This is why you can’t be a parent. The whole scolding part. Just two blinks of those big brown eyes and suddenly you feel like you’re the one who did something wrong.

“Sorry, auntie.”

You pull him into a hug. “It’s okay, Kenzo.”

It’s not forgotten to you that the man at the table is watching all this. You stand back up and he’s shamelessly turned to you both, head propped up on his palm.

“That was real cute.” He drawls and you bite back a smile.

“Thanks. Now Kenzo, what do we say to the man for barging in here like we did?” You nudge Kenzo’s shoulder and he groans.

“Do you know where Shoto is?” 

“Kenzo, no.”

The man at the table laughs. “No. I’m his brother, if that helps.”

You wish you were one of those crazy fangirls so you could fact check that comment. But you’re as clueless as Kenzo is.

Kenzo narrows his eyes. “Liar.”

The man frowns. “I’m no liar, kid.”

Kenzo crosses his arms. You cover your mouth with the map in your hand to hide your smile.

“Prove it.”

A sigh. “How am I meant to do that?”

“Dunno. A real brother would know how.”

Kenzo speaks with such conviction that you can't help but let a snort escape you. Blue eyes shift towards you. You hold up two hands in apology, and take a step back.

“I have a fire quirk like him.” 

Touya holds out a hand, and you and Kenzo watch in awe as a blue flame licks around his fingers. Kenzo is only impressed for a moment, though. He shakes his head with all the energy of one of those stalkery news reporters always in the paper.

“Shoto’s fire is yellow. Not blue.” 

Touya shakes his head in defeat. “You're right. I'm a fraud”

Kenzo tugs on your sleeve. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I make all his tech, if that interests you at all.”

It does, you think, because Kenzo’s eyes light up ever so slightly, and he pauses. You unhook his little fingers from your shirt.

“For serious?”

“For serious. I’m Touya, by the way.”

His words are for Kenzo, but he looks at you as he speaks. You smile, a little nervous under his heavy gaze.

“I’m Y/N. This is my nephew-“

“Kenzo. Can I see your gadgets?” He cuts in, dashing forward to where Touya is.

You roll your eyes. Touya moves his chair back slightly. You get a better view of the Radiohead t-shirt he has on, and the jeans that hug his legs perfectly. He pats his lap for Kenzo to sit on and you watch as he clambers on. God. You wish it was you.

The thought makes your face heat, and you shake your head a little. You’ve literally known this man for about two minutes and you’re already acting like a degenerate.

“You can look at these. New designs I’m working on.” he says, dragging over his paper.

You walk towards them. You lean forward on the table, elbows propped in front of you. Kenzo leans forward too, and his little eyebrows furrow. 

“These drawings are messy.” He says and you laugh.

Touya grins. “You’re mean, kid. They’re works in progress.” 

Touya reaches for an empty paper. He lifts Kenzo up effortlessly and sits him down on the chair. He pulls a pencil from his pocket and passes it to him.

“Why don’t you show me some of your designs? And I can show Shoto. Meanwhile, I’ll get to know your pretty aunt.” 

With that, Touya’s attention turns to you. 

“Am I the pretty aunt?” You flutter your lashes at him.

“I hope so.” 

He smells good; like smoke and something spicy, and the smell overwhelms you as he steps closer. He rests his hip on the table, and you’re sure he’s flexing a little more than necessary as he crosses his arms. His arms look good though, so you’re not one to complain.

You look at Kenzo, who’s drawing increasingly messier drawings. Hes trying to copy some of the designs Touya has done, and it’s so cute. 

You drop your voice to a whisper. “Are you really Shoto’s brother?”

Touya sighs heavily, like the question pains him to answer. 

“Yep. Older, by ten long years.” He narrows his eyes at you a little. “You're not one his crazy fangirls, are you?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. I never really got the appeal, you know. He’s kinda broody.”

Touya raises an eyebrow. 

“Oh! Not like that- I mean, your brother, he’s very- A good pro! I just don’t-“

Touya laughs a little, patting your shoulder. “Only teasing, sweetheart.”

He inches towards you just a bit. 

“So. You here for the convention, then?”

You wave your VIP lanyard. “Yup. Birthday gift for Kenzo.”

Touya nods, impressed. “Expensive birthday gift for a seven year old.”

“Have to keep my status as favourite aunt somehow.” You shrug.

He hums under his breath. “You here for the whole weekend?” 

“Yes. If he doesn’t run away from me again.” You mumble and Touya grins.

“Yeah, I’m here on babysitting duty, too.” He grumbles and you look a bit confused.

Babysitting his… pro hero little brother? You’ve seen Shoto on the news. All big muscles and that fiery look in his eyes. You’re sure he doesn’t need any assistance with anything. 

Touya scratches at the curve of his jaw, the faint stubble growing in catching against his hands. “My mother. Very overprotective. Seems to think me and my tool kit can help the number four pro hero if he needs it.”

You snort. “The hammer might come in handy.”

“Yeah, if I bothered to even show up.”

You laugh. Kenzos taken up three whole sheets of paper with his scribbles, fingers darkening from the lead of the pencil. He’s humming something you can’t recognise under his breath, his whole body now resting on the table.

“You here with your boyfriend, or is it just you and Kenzo?”

You flush ever so slightly. You can feel him turn to look at you when he asks, and when you look his way, his attention is all on you. “No boyfriend for me.”

“Mhm.”

You lick your lips. “You, uh. You got a girlfriend keeping you company in here?”

Touya tilts his head. A few stray hairs curl over his faceand you want to reach over and brush them away. 

“Nope. I fuck-“

You gasp, reaching forward and covering his mouth. But it’s too late. Kenzo’s head darts up, his mouth dropping open.

“He said a bad word!” He points an accusing finger at Touya.

“It was an accident! Don’t say that!”

Kenzo frowns. “But he said it.”

“And he’s very sorry. Go on, keep drawing.”

Kenzo, though disbelieving, looks away. You go to scold Touya, but then you remember your hand is covering his mouth, currently. And his lips are soft and the scarred skin on his face is smooth against your palm, and you let go like he’s on fire.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry.” You wince. “Probably shouldn’t just grab you like that.” You laugh sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it.” His voice drops to a whisper. “If you wanted to touch, you could’ve just asked, sweetheart.”

You shove his shoulder, and try to pretend that he can’t see the red flush all over your cheeks.

“Shut up.”

“Feisty. I like it.”

You flick his shoulder. “Stop. I don’t need my nephew to hear us flirting with eachother.”

Touya grins. “So we’re flirting?”

You lean a little closer. Your shoulder brushes against his. “I’d hope so.”

You’re bolder than you usually are. Touya brings out something different in you, something that stirs in your gut and leaves you blushing like a teenager. You like it. You like him, even though you only just met. At a hero convention, nonetheless.

Touya sits up suddenly. He taps the VIP pass that dangles around your neck. “You should get going. The meet and greet is soon.”

“You know when the meet and greet is?” You ask, and he huffs.

“Course I do. The second it’s over I’m home free.”

You nod. He searches in the pile of pens he has on his desk and pulls out a marker. He grabs your hand, and starts writing his number on it. His palm is soft, and you can feel the calluses on his fingers as he writes. 

“I could’ve just given you my phone, you know.”

He shrugs, glancing up at you. “Yeah, but this is more romantic.”

You huff a laugh. Touya drops your hand.

“Alright. You’re here tomorrow, right?”

You nod.

“Perfect. You call me once you’re finished up. We can drop Kenzo home, and then I’m taking you out.”

“Wow. You work fast.” You praise.

He hums under his breath. “You like it slow?” He drawls and you brush him off.

You walk over to stand behind Kenzo.

“Your drawings look great, Kenny.” You squeeze his shoulder.

“Thanks. This is a glove that gives Shoto explosion. Like Dynamight has but it’s fire.” 

“Ah. Very nice.”

Touya leans a little closer too. “This is great, kid.”

Kenzo sits up. “If you use them you have to tell Shoto I helped.”

“Oh, of course.” He assures. 

You fix the hat thats become skewed on his head, his curly brown hair sticking out every side. “Come on, Kenzo, we gotta get going.” 

Kenzo hops to his feet, already bounding towards the door.

You turn back to Touya. “Do you happen to know where the meet and greet is?”

Touya nods. “Third floor.”

“Right. Thank you.” You say.

Kenzo rattles the doorknob from across the room and you sigh. “That’s my que to leave.”

You shoot Touya a smile. “Thanks for all this.”

“Thank you. You’ve made my day much more enjoyable.”

Touya walks you the short distance to the door. Just before you leave, he grabs your arm and stops you in your tracks. He’s tall, when your standing this close to him, and he leans down just a little so you can hear him better.

“Don’t forget about our date.”

You grin. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

—————————————————————————

IM BACK GUYS 🥺🤣😖 I literlaly have been SWAMPED. With uni, life. I have like six hundred birthdays in April and my own in May 😖

I feel like I’ve forgotten how to write but I guess that’s what happens when u take such a long break. Also I’m beta reading this at two am so if there’s any mistakes there r not

I also like.. changed the pov half way because I wanted to like who’s gonna check me

ENJOY THO I MISSED U ALL

[nowprettybbyimrunning]

He's a 10 But He is Making Out in Room 2

This is chapter 1 from the series "Carter's Favorite Season is Autumn"

W.C: 3,8k

Warnings: mention of blood, stitches, cursing, injury by patient.

Autumn Hawthorn’s first day at County General Hospital in Chicago did not only mark her first residency day at the ER, but also the day her own personal foundations got shaken by an external and unexpected force. Said force had a tall figure, a handsome face with the most inviting and kind brown puppy eyes she had ever seen, and a name: John Carter. She has always been a good girl who does not lie and hates anyone who does, so if you ask her about her colleague, she’ll say that meeting him is the best thing to happen to her in the last months. Well, more like the second best thing. The best one is starting her residency.

Interested in following pediatrics, her favorite doctor to work with was Doug Ross, who seemed to have taken a liking to her and let her follow him around like a lost puppy everywhere he went. 

Every day was just about the same. 

She’ll wake up before the sun has risen and get ready as quickly as possible, eager to get to the ER and start working. At the beginning, after meeting John, Autumn would get herself and Dr. Carter coffee to go and they’d drink it together at the break room in silence, just enjoying each other’s company. But that was until a few days ago Doug started getting it for her. Now she’ll drink the coffee Dr. Ross bought for her while John poured himself some from the coffee pot and eventually they were called down to tend to a patient. 

She and Carter would also have lunch together at the cafeteria and then around 3 p.m., when their eyelids began to shut, they’d meet again for another coffee to help them keep going, not a very healthy habit for doctors.

And finally, if they were lucky enough to get to go home that very same day and not have to work night shifts, John walked her to her bus stop and said goodnight with a quick hug.

She had checked her reflection on the hospital’s doors before going in, making sure her curly auburn hair looked good and her working outfit was still decent and nothing had happened to it throughout her walk from her apartment to the ER. But, what for? if as soon as she stood inside the chaos that was County General, she saw the only reason why she wanted to be presentable each day, talking to the patient that occupied most of his lately. Autumn noticed the way Carter’s lips pulled slightly up into a smirk and couldn’t miss Liz’s arm, possessively grasping his shoulder while batting her long eyelashes at him.

During the course of her first few weeks at the ER, Autumn had talked her therapist's ear off about an incredible amount of horrendous scenes she had seen and experienced, including the first patient she and Carter saw die; however, none of them stirs her feelings up as much as seeing Carter constantly and without a care in the world flirt with Liz (a patient nonetheless) at the front desk, and today was one of those days.

The brunette had made her appearance not too long ago, and ever since then kept coming back and asking for Dr. Carter specially to see her. Everyone knew what was going on, of course. Jerry even had seen them getting into John’s car once and driving away together. But no one said a thing even though it was clearly morally wrong. Autumn wondered if they had something serious going on, were they going on dates? Did Liz know the way Carter likes his coffee just like she did?

It was torture. Starting what she knew would be a long and arduous shift with the image of the man that she was slowly but surely falling for, trying to play the womanizer role out in the open was torture. It wasn’t right, Carter did not seem like that type of guy. 

Fuck doctors. Or well, student doctors for that matter. Autumn was not putting up with that shit, she made a beeline directly to the bathroom and almost ran into Carol.

“Hey kid, what’s with the face?” since the nurse’s comeback they had found a safe place in each other, and of course she immediately caught up on her cranky mood.

“The one I was born with?” Autumn joked in an attempt to get out of the confrontation, but she knew she had been cornered when Carol peeked her head around the bathroom door to spy on what had caused her to frown.

“Oh, I see… It’s a loverboy matter” the redhead couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her colleague’s (she hoped soon would be friend) comment as she washed her hands just for the sake of doing something with them.

“Don’t call him that.”

“But Pumpkin isn’t that what you want him to be?” Autumn knew she had used the lame nickname they had given to her just to try and soften her.

“Who wants who to be what?” Susan interrupted their conversation by rapidly walking into the bathroom, three were a crowd and it was starting to get suffocating.

“Autumn and Carter” claimed Carol at the same time the resident said “no one nothing”.

“Ohh I love this topic!” Dr. Lewis was also clearly in on the redhead’s little crush.

“It’s not a topic and it will never be ‘cause I’m going out there right now” Dr. Hawthorn almost sprinted out of the small room that seemed to be closing in on her with each second that passed around the topic of John Carter.

Luckily for her, neither he nor Liz were still at the front desk. Maybe she had gone home already, or he had been called to tend to a patient without her help. Either way, Autumn was glad to not have to continue to see the scene that almost made her crash out within her first three minutes at the hospital.

But that was until Dr. Benton asked her to get some files of his he had forgotten at room 2 and she immediately got down to the task. Who knocks before going into what is supposed to be an empty room at a hospital? Maybe after today she should start building on that habit, because when she abruptly opened the door what she found was far away from an empty, normal, usual, hospital room. Instead she found John and Liz mid makeout. At the interruption, Carter turned around white as a sheet, and the state he was in would’ve been a sight for sore eyes if it wasn’t for his company; disheveled hair sticking out everywhere from someone running their needy hands through it, crooked tie along with not one or two, but three unbuttoned shirt buttons; ragged breathing and lastly, plump pink lips shiny from lip gloss. Liz wasn’t far from that, she was sitting down in a bed and her skirt had rolled up slightly, the ponytail Autumn had seen her in when she got to the hospital was nowhere to be seen, now her brown hair was free and messy and her green shirt brought up the red on her cheeks from the heat in the room.

“Autumn hi” Carter greeted her “when did you get in?” The only man in the room tried to fix his hair and rubbed the palm of his right hand on his lips to get rid of the shine from Liz’s lip gloss.

“Uhm just a few minutes ago, I- sorry I just came for these” Autumn grabbed Benton’s files that were right next to Liz’s hand on the bed.

“Hi! I’m Liz” the brunette tried to introduce herself and extended her hand for the redhead to shake, Carter standing right in the middle.

“I know” Autumn ignored the girl’s gesture and turned around, leaving for the second time that day a room that made her feel like she was running out of air.

It’ll definitely be a long, very long day. 

“You have to stop doing this Liz” Carter reprimanded the girl while both of them tried to fix their clothes, no longer in the mood for whatever it was they would’ve ended up doing if Autumn had not walked in.

“What are you talking about?” and of course she was playing dumb.

“Showing up at my job and looking for me, you’ll get me into trouble” but she laughed, “I’m being serious” he knew that word had already gone around, and after what had just happened he was sure that either Dr. Benton or Dr. Greene were going to call him out. Not because he did not trust Autumn, she wouldn’t tell a soul what she had seen, but somehow everyone always knew.

“Yeah sure Carter, you’re a doctor, I had a rash, do the math”.

John finally got the tie’s knot down right, and started going for the door. He didn’t even answer her, and maybe it was for the better. They had been going at it for a few weeks, and even though everyone knew, no one really said something. But then again, no one had actually caught them. Until Autumn.

Man did he like her. Autumn, not Liz. He did like Liz, otherwise he would not have been hooking up with her. In fact, Carter even got to enjoy her company sometimes. Yet, it was the redhead, his coworker, his colleague, whatever you want to call it, who was infiltrating every waking and sleeping thought of his. And he didn’t complain. Dreaming of Autumn and looking forward to seeing her during their shifts had brought fun and excitement to his daily life, but it made it hard for him to really focus and concentrate. Plus, everyone had noticed the way Dr. Doug Ross flirted with her and tried to steal her help whenever he could. It pissed Carter off. A student doctor? He wanted to tell Doug to get a grip. After all, everyone also knew the only reason he was so invested in Autumn was to try and make Carol jealous. But who was he to do that? It would also be a bit hypocritical of him given the fact that he was sleeping with a patient.

Sadly, Carter did not see the redhead for the rest of the morning. He actually tried to hide from her, too embarrassed to confront her after what she had walked into  in room 2. It was weird, they usually chose cases together and helped each other out, so John knew his friend would be questioning him about it if they happened to cross paths.

However, his freedom from Autumn did not last long.

At around 1 p.m., Carter was filling out the chart of the last patient he had released when he heard some commotion and shouting from one of the exam rooms. Followed by a crash, and then a scream; from a voice he would pick out anywhere. He quickly ran toward it followed by Jerry and one of the security guards.

When they rushed in they found what was clearly a psych patient who had somehow been able to undo his arm’s restraints, and unfortunately got a hold of a scalpel and hit Autumn on the forehead.

Once Jerry and the officer were able to subdue the patient, Carter made his way to Autumn who was leaning against a wall in a corner of the room watching everything unfold while clutching her forehead, blood streaming down her face and into her forearm, staining her scrubs.

“Hey, hey are you okay?” Carter gently placed his hands on her shoulders and tried to direct her look at him.

Dr. Hawthorn seemed to be in shock and did not answer right away. She blinked at him, confused. But then she gazed at her hand and saw it covered in blood and her eyes opened like saucers. Autumn hadn’t noticed that the blow she took had been strong enough to draw blood. Her face contorted in pain.

“Come with me” John started and steadied her when she almost fell.

Once they were alone in one of the exam rooms, Carter sat her down at one of the beds and inspected her wound, “you’ll need stitches” he kept his voice soft and low, forgetting how embarrassed he was to see her just mere minutes ago. he gave Autumn some gauze to keep on the cut while he gathered what he needed to stitch her up and put on gloves.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad” the redhead spoke for the first time, trying to joke with him, yet John did not smile as he was already in his doctor mode. And he would not tell but this was his most important (and favorite) patient so far.

“You know someone should’ve been with you in that room, he is a psych patient it wasn’t right for you to be alone with him” he said in his most serious tone, not tending to her wound yet.

“I was just checking if he had fallen asleep or-” Carter interrupted her.

“Still, Autumn you have to be more careful with this type of patient, he could’ve gotten you good” he tried to concentrate as much as he was able to prepare the needle and thread.

“He already got me good, didn’t he? you’re about to do stitches on me” there went the jokes ignored, again.

“Whatever, just tilt your head back for me” Dr. Hawthorn obeyed him, and he carefully peeled the gauze full of blood away, their hands brushing just a tiny bit, “you’ll have a scar, at least a tiny one”.

“That’s fine, cool guys seem to dig them” she was getting tired of trying to lift up the mood with no positive results, and her eyes searched her friend’s face for some signal of what was wrong with him, but Carter was not looking at her. He was too focused on cleaning her cut first and the sudden silence in the room engulfed them.

It had been minutes when Autumn decided she couldn’t take it anymore and spoke, “Carter, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?” of course he knew what she meant.

“You’re not laughing at my jokes, you’re not looking at me, you’ve basically been avoiding me since I walked in on you and Liz” she saw how his lips twitched at the mention of the brunette.

“Yeah you’re right, I’m sorry it was just embarrassing” he threaded the first stitch through and Autumn flinched, “sorry, almost done though, just one more will be enough”. She shut up for a while and just watched his face while he worked, admiring the way his jaw tensed due to his concentration; and when he was finished smiled at him “aaaand we’re done”.

“Thank you, Carter” she thanked him while he took off his gloves, a few moments of silence passed while Autumn covered her fresh stitches with new, clean gauze. “What is going on between you and her?”.

The question knocked John off his feet and he answered automatically in what was not the best tone or way, “why are you asking? I don’t ask questions about you and Doug”.

“Me and Doug? Carter what are you- wow you must be really embarrassed then” Autumn practically jumped out the bed and walked to the door to get out of that room as soon as possible. She had just taken a scalpel to the forehead, she was not going to put up with whatever John was trying to argue about. She and Doug? What was he on? Was he jealous? No, he couldn’t be.

“Oh come on everyone noticed it” that stopped Autumn in her tracks and made her turn around to look at him.

“Noticed what exactly?”

“Him flirting with you” John stated without looking at her, pretending to be too occupied tidying up what he had just used to fix her up.

“You’re insane, Carter” he had to be kidding, she let her hands rest on her hips, showing him that she was starting to get mad.

“Oh, really? I’m insane?” Autumn nodded, “then explain to me why he brings you coffee every morning”.

She rolled her eyes, “that’s ridiculous, he is just being nice and you’re mad that I stopped bringing you coffee every morning when I no longer had to get my own”.

“Yeah right, he is being nice” now he was looking at her and suddenly felt scared of how close she had gotten to him, “then why is he always asking for your help with the most dumb shit ever?”

Autumn actually laughed at that, “he is supposed to teach us stuff, he is just doing his job, John” she pronounced his name tightly, almost through her teeth.

“So now you don’t know how to take someone’s temperature? he’s not even asking for your help in peds!” Carter was starting to raise his voice, not even he recognized himself at that moment.

“It’s all practice, just because I want to specialize in pediatrics doesn’t mean I’m not going to watch other cases, you do the same!”

John scoffed, “he is your superior Autumn, do you know the trouble you could get into?” he was being insufferable, he knew it. And he also knew Autumn was not going out with Doug, yet he was still jealous.

“Jesus Christ what has gotten into you today!? Did I walk in right when she was about to suck you off at work and pissed you off?” she had gone too far.

“Wouldn’t you like that” but he always seemed to be two steps ahead of her. There was a sudden quiet in the room, the air thickening as the minutes passed, the implications of Carter’s comment too sharp for one of them to keep talking.

“Go to hell”, Autumn said and left John alone, slamming right into a chest on her way out. Someone’s chest. Dr. Ross’ chest. It seemed as if the devil himself had been listening to her’s and Carter’s discussion and decided to stir things up even more than they were.

“Autumn, there you are!” Doug smiled down at her, “I heard about what happened, I’ve been looking for you, are you alright?”, and just as she was about to answer, the door of the room she had just gotten out of opened, and out came John, scoffing at them and walking away. “What’s with him?”.

“Ignore him, he has had a weird day”, Dr. Hawthorn crossed her arms over her chest, trying to cover the blood that had dripped on it, “and I’m fine, just two stitches it’s not a big of a deal”, she reciprocated his smile with a tightlipped one, and for a moment she wondered if maybe Carter was right and Doug had been trying to make her fall into his charms.

“Well, it’s not nothing, I talked to Dr. Greene and Dr. Benton and you’re free to go for the day, get some rest” when Autumn heard the news, her shoulders slumped forward in relief as she could feel a headache brewing and would love nothing more than to lay in her bed and drink some very hot tea.

“Thank you, Dr. Ross I think I need it”

Doug placed a hand on her sidearm “you need it and you deserve it, you did good today”.

“Good?” the redhead raised her eyebrows, “I got assaulted by a psych patient because I was stupid enough to check on him alone”.

Both of them laughed, “yeah well, happens to the best of us”.

“Doug”, Susan called from the end of the hallway, “they need you in trauma 2”.

“Duty calls”, he buried his hands in his jacket’s pockets, “call if you need something, though”.

“I- I- yeah sure I will”, Autumn watched him walk away until he turned around before going down the corridor.

“And Dr. Hawthorn?” she just mhmed at him, “they look good on you, the stitches”, not only did he have the guts to say that to her, but he also winked at her and Autumn swore she could feel her throat dry up.

For Carter, the rest of the day could not get more boring even if he tried for it and wanted it to. He had stitched four patients and given ibuprofen to other three that just had headaches. He hadn’t seen Autumn again since he got out of the exam room and saw her talking to Dr. Ross, not even at the break room for her usual 3 p.m. coffee, the one they drank together ever since Doug started buying her morning one for her.

Even though he knew that to do it would probably get her to talk to the nurses, he decided to ask Lydia about Autumn’s whereabouts. He approached the entry desk where he had seen her last just a few minutes ago and found her right there.

“Lydia, hi” John rested his elbows on the desk.

“Hello, Dr. Carter” the woman side-eyed him, word probably got around about him and Liz that morning.

“Have you seen Dr. Hawthorn?” He gave her his best smile, trying to get on her good side.

“She went home hours ago” finally, Lydia looked straight at him. Carter knew he was not going to like what she’ll tell him next when he saw the lady’s lips curling up into a grin, “Dr. Ross talked to Dr. Greene and Dr. Benton and got them to agree to send her home after today’s incident”, there it was, Doug Ross once again in the conversation.

“Uhm- well, if she calls and needs anything, could you please let me know?” he was jealous, he really was.

“Oh don’t worry kid, Doug’s got it covered” there was almost a singing tone in the way Lydia said that.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what I said, loverboy”, did she just call him loverboy?

“Lydia please erase my name from the board”, the man of the hour, Doug Ross was putting on a jacket while pointing to the whiteboard behind the desk, “I’ll be back in like an hour”.

“W- Where are you going?” Carter tried to stop himself from asking, but the need to confirm it (because he knew exactly where the man was going) was stronger than him.

“To check on Dr. Hawthorn”, Doug answered and Lydia flicked Carter’s elbow to mess with him, “do you want me to pass a message?”.

“No, no it’s fine”, John immediately left the desk, he couldn’t bear watching Dr. Ross leave the ER knowing all too well where he was going, did Autumn even know he was going to her’s? He needed a nap, a long one; and to not wake up until the redhead was back so he could make amends with her.

[lackinggravitas]

part fiveeeee of stan if raised by coyotes!

‘it's fiddlefording time' i say, fiddlefording all over the place

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5(you are here!) / part 6 (in progress)

During the week it took Fiddleford to arrive, Remus was in and out of the house periodically. Ford had been wracked with anxiety the first time he’d realized Remus left, but by the third or fourth time Remus had infallibly returned to Ford’s door, scratching to be let back in, he’d gotten used to it. It seemed Remus couldn’t be kept from the woods for long.

What he was doing out there, Ford had no idea. He would have loved to investigate, hopefully gain some insight into Remus’ nature, but there were other, more pressing matters.

Ford did his best to design the new attic guest room - where Fiddleford would be staying - with no overthinking of the process whatsoever. Which, because it was Ford, meant that he was still overthinking it the same amount he would have otherwise, just refusing to admit it this time. 

The quality of living quarters Ford was able to provide could potentially influence how long Fiddleford would be staying. The better the living situation, the longer the stay could be, and the longer Fiddleford stayed, the better. To get the DNA-Machine done, of course. Certainly not anything  to do with the fact that Ford desperately wanted the company or anything like that. 

He’d got the mattress up the stairs eventually (with no help from Remus, who’d just sat at the bottom of the stairs, watching him with all the wide-eyed attention of a creature who had no idea what Ford was trying to do, but was very intrigued nonetheless), and picked out a simple bed set for him. Then he’d placed a nightstand beside the bed, with a lamp from downstairs.

Remus had also watched him do this - Ford had to pull him away from hopping onto Fiddleford’s bed several times. The wildman had a clear fondness for creature comforts - he spent most of time lying about on Ford’s bed or on the couch, watching him in a way more catlike than canine, and was very enthusiastic about whatever food Ford made him. 

Perhaps Ford should have been feeding him dog food, but Remus seemed perfectly capable of digesting anything a human could. Among what Ford had fed him with was food with - or Remus had gotten in to - chocolate, avocado, onions, and even garlic. All foods dogs could not eat, all of which Remus evidently could. It seemed he had a digestive system comparable, if not identical, to a human’s.

Even if Remus wasn’t Stanley (which he wasn’t, Ford was certain he wasn’t), it was entirely possible that Remus was some other, biologically normal human who had been living in the wild since his developmental years. There had many cases, horaxes and true, of children being raised by wild animals with little to no human contact, and Remus certainly fit the bill for it. 

It was something he’d have to look into more - perhaps in his downtime, in between working on the DNA-Machine. 

Everything was ready. Now all that needed to happen was for Fiddleford to arrive. 

Remus was lying on the couch, head propped up on the armrest, watching as Ford paced right in front of the door. When Remus laid like this, completely relaxed and still, other than his eyes, he looked incredibly similar to a weary old dog. 

“He should arrive any minute now,” Ford rambled to Remus for what must have been the hundredth time. “I’ll need to greet him at the door when he arrives. It’s the polite thing to do.”

Ford hadn’t played host very often at all, but he had enough vague memories of when his parents would to count for something. Guests weren’t common in the Pines household, and Ford usually hid away in his room while they were there, but he still remembered the few family visits he was forced to sit through. It was enough even to make him, now a grown man, shudder. 

“He’s driving here, you see - it’s about a two day road trip from Palo Alto.” Ford grimaced. “Maybe I should have offered to pay for his plane ticket. He likely would already have been here if that was the case.” 

Remus sighed through his nose. 

“I’m just impatient to start our project, as anyone would be. I can’t even begin the blueprints without him - I have no expertise in Biology, much less Genetics. The sooner I can get this… ridiculous notion of mine disproven and finally put to rest, I can start focusing on other things again.”

Ford suddenly stopped pacing. He glanced over at Remus uncertainly. 

“I… I would know if you were him.” 

Remus grunted, then sat up suddenly, alert, eyes snapping to the door. Ford almost asked what the matter was, before he too heard it - the rusty rumble of a car coming up the road towards them. 

Remus tensed, eyeing the door suspiciously. But Ford just smiled. “He’s here.” 

Nerves and excitement alike fluttered to life inside Ford’s chest, dancing in a flurry of confused emotion. Without another thought he giddily scurried to the door, like a child anticipating the arrival of their playdate.

“Stay here,” he told Remus, because it looked like the creature was about to pounce at the door the moment Ford moved towards it.

Then he swung it open and hurriedly darted out, shutting the door behind without even looking. Eyes locked on the rusted old pickup truck he remembered so clearly as it rolled down his driveway, wheels sending clouds of dust into the air. 

“Fiddleford!”

Fiddleford stuck his head out the window, grinning broadly at him, gap-toothed and bright. “Stanferd!”

The truck rolled to a stop in front of the lab, Fiddleford clearly having no qualms about parking with his front tires in the grass. The sight of Fiddleford’s gangling limbs and absurd, patterned green shirt ambling out of the beat-up old pickup was enough to get Ford hurrying towards the truck. 

Fiddleford was barely two steps out of his car before Ford was throwing his arms around him, Fiddleford making a soft surprised noise, quickly reciprocating. 

It felt just the same as it did in college. Fiddleford’s bony arms wrapped around him, accidentally jabbing him with his sharp elbows, chuckling in his ear. “Well, long time no see to you too, Stanferd!”

“A long time indeed,” Ford agreed, withdrawing from the embrace with a smile. “I can’t remember the last time we spoke face to face. How have you been?” 

“Between family-raisin’ and the computermajig-in’ business, I’ve been real busy. Not a moment of peace, I’m telling you.” Fiddleford beamed lop-sidedly at him, eyes crinkling around the corners with the brightness of it. “I missed ya, Stanferd. Just ain’t the same without ya.” 

Ford smiled softly, adjusting his glasses. “Yes. It was too quiet around here without your awful banjo to keep me awake at night.” 

“And I’ve only gotten better,” Fiddleford said proudly, not an ounce of shame in his voice. He stepped back, popping open the backseat and pulling out his bags, before withdrawing the dreaded - a distinctly banjo-shaped instrument case.

“Oh no,” Ford lamented in an anguished voice, though the effect was a bit ruined by the fact he couldn’t hold back a laugh. 

“That’s right, I don’t go nowhere without her. I’ve learned all sorts of new songs she and I are just itching to share.” 

“Under no circumstances can you play that after seven o’clock.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Fiddleford waved him off. “No banjo-playin’ after the sunset, I remember.”

“Good.” Ford straightened his jacket, then eyed Fiddleford’s bags. “Do you need a hand?”

“I’m alright.” Fiddleford settled the banjo-case on his back, before scooping up his luggage with a soft grunt of effort, swaying a bit under the weight - Ford extended a hand as though to catch him, but Fiddleford stabilized himself quickly, so Ford awkwardly retracted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “This the place then?”

Fiddleford eyed the cabin appreciatively. A small spark of pride went off in Ford’s chest. 

“Designed it myself,” Ford confirmed. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, clapping them together. “It’s half a home, half a laboratory for future revolutionary science and research. Hence its remote location.” 

“Of course.” Fiddleford nodded along. “Seems like your kinda place, Stanferd.” 

“Come inside,” Ford said, walking up to the front door. “Watch your step - I accidentally dropped some of my equipment on one of the porch steps a while back and I haven’t had the time to get it fixed. Too busy.” 

Fiddleford hefted his luggage up the steps easily, eyes roving the front of the cabin. “It happens to the best of us. You busy with whatever it is that you need the machine for?”

“Yes, actually.” Ford put his hand on the door, talking as he swung it open. “I should warn you, I’m not sure how he’ll react to you. I never have visitors over, so I don’t know how he reacts to strangers. Do forgive him for any ill-reaction, he’s a bit… well, you’ll see.” 

“Eh? He?”

The door swung open. 

But, to Ford’s surprise, it swung open to Ford’s entryway, completely vacant of any Remus whatsoever. He’d abandoned his resting spot at the couch, leaving no trace of his presence except for rustled couch-covers.

He stepped inside, looking around, but nothing. It was as though Remus had completely vanished. 

“Very nice place,” Fiddleford said, setting his bags down by the door. “What was that ‘bout another fella again?”

“He… yes. There is another resident here, a recent one. See, I found this anomaly in the woods, and I’d like to examine his DNA.” Ford wrung his hands nervously. “For scientific purposes.” 

Fiddleford blinked at him. Then snorted softly, shaking his head. “You’re still a bad liar, Stanferd,” he said, fond as anything. He stepped forward, putting a warm hand on Ford’s shoulder. His eyes were earnest, kind. “What’s goin’ on-?”

He was cut-off by the abrupt sound of growling, kicking to life like an old engine. Fiddleford stiffened, looking around.

“What in tarnation? There some kinda critter in here?”

“Well, you could say that.” 

Fiddleford stepped closer to Ford. The growling grew louder. “You got a dog or something? I never really pegged ya as the type for one.” 

“He might be a dog.” Fiddleford gave him an incredulous look. Ford smiled sheepishly. “In truth, I’m not quite sure. That’s what the DNA-analyzer is for.” 

“What, you can’t tell just by lookin’ at him?” There was no judgement in his voice, just something akin to baffled concern. He kept looking around, like he was trying to catch a glimpse of Remus. The creature remained elusive, but the growling only picked up. “Just where is this critter anyhow?”

As though on cue, two eyes drifted forward from the dark shadows underneath one of the tables Ford kept some of his work on. 

“Ah,” Ford said, relieved, “there you are.” 

Remus prodded forward, slowly pulling himself from the drapes of the shadows and into view. His eyes kept flicking rapidly between Ford and Fiddleford, growling loud and unhappy, hunched close to the ground in a defensive stance.

“Oh,” Fiddleford said faintly. 

“He’s never bitten me, but I assure that if he tries I will intervene on your behalf,” Ford told him, swallowing around the uneasiness that clogged in his throat at the thought. He didn’t want to hurt Remus, but he wanted Fiddleford to get hurt even less. 

Fiddleford slowly bent down, dropping his knees to the floor in a tentative kneel, reaching out a hand. To Ford’s relief, Remus didn’t try to bite, though he certainly growled like he was considering it - Remus shrank back a bit, before warily leaning forward, sniffing at Fiddleford’s hand. 

“Howdy there, big fella,” Fiddleford said softly. “My, what happened to ya?” 

Remus snorted, retracting so that he could pace around Fiddleford, eyeing him critically. Whatever he saw, it seemed to satisfy him - with a weary huff, he turned slunk down the hall, disappearing around the bend, leaving Fiddleford unaccosted.

“Right then!” Ford clapped his hands together. “Now you know what we’re dealing with.”

“Stanferd, I’m mighty sorry,” Fiddleford said earnestly, voice heavy with concern. Ford paused, suddenly struck with a sinking feeling of dread.

“What for?” Ford asked, twisting his hands together anxiously. 

Pushing himself back to his feet, Fiddleford patted Ford’s arm softly in condolences. “I know how much ya missed Stanley. Must be hard fer ya to see him like that.” 

Oh. 

“That’s not Stanley,” Ford snapped. “There’s- I understand that there’s… a certain resemblance between Remus here,” he gestured to where Remus had wandered off to, “and I, but that’s not- I mean, there’s no evidence.” 

Fiddleford’s hand slid off Ford’s arm. He gave Ford an incredulous, almost exasperated look. “Seriously?”

“That’s what the DNA analyzing machine will be for.”

“You don’t need a machine to look at this feller’s DNA to know he’s yer brother,” Fiddleford said, taking an edge of irritation into his voice - he crossed his arms, fixing Ford with a vexed look. “Honestly, Stanferd. He’s yer spitting image. I’ve met yer folks, and he looks just like ‘em. You’ve shown me pictures of Stanley before!”

“A lot can change in thirty years,” Ford insisted. “Stanley could look very different from me by now. Just because Remus happens to look similar to me-”

“The same thing can apply in reverse and you know it. It doesn’t change the fact that that feller is damn near identical to ya! Just wit’ longer hair!” Fiddleford shook his head. “Where’d you even find him anyhow?”

“In the woods,” Ford said huffily. “I suspect he’s been living in there for a long time, as he’s not exactly socialized - as you can see. I initially thought he was a cryptid of some kind, but after I cleaned him up and observed him for the week it took you to arrive, its become increasingly likely that he’s simply a human who was raised outside of society, likely by wild animals.” 

“Good Lord,” Fiddleford said faintly, shaking his head. There was a haunted look in his eyes, a hand coming up over his mouth. “Fer twenty years?” 

“For most of his life. Like I said, he’s not Stanley. I understand the confusion, but analyzing Remus’ DNA should clear the issue up once and for all.” Ford folded his hands behind his back, lifting his head. “I would know if he was my brother.” 

“I reckon you do,” Fiddleford grumbled. “You just don’t want to.” 

Ford stayed firm. “I’m a man of science. Evidence is key.”

“Ya don’t need evidence to prove the sky is blue, Stanferd. Yer missing an identical twin, a fella shows up, looking identical to ya, he’s probably your brother. ‘sides, you’re going about it backwards and you know it - ya gather evidence to form a conclusion, not so that you can prove the conclusion you’ve already decided.” 

“We’re getting nowhere like this,” Ford sighed tensely. “Look, even if you don’t believe me for some reason, this DNA-Machine could be revolutionary. Think of it like an opportunity. Remus can be our first test subject - I’ve sent for some of Stanley’s baby teeth to be delivered to me, and I believe we could find some use in comparing Remus’ and Stanley’s DNA. Think of it like a trial run.” 

Fiddleford made an irritated noise. “Yer only doin’ this ‘cause you know he’s your brother, and you just don’t want to admit it. ‘cause you want to be wrong.” 

“Fiddleford.” 

A weary sigh. Fiddleford re-crossed his arms, looking away. “Fine, you got me. I want to make that machine, just to see if we can. And if it can do the world some good then all the better.” He shook his head. “But I ain’t gonna ignore this - what’d ya call him? Remus? I ain’t gonna ignore this whole thing with Remus here. Your brother or not, that fella’s a human who needs help. He thinks he’s a dog, fer God’s sake.” 

“This is true,” Ford allowed. “I admit I’ve been a bit too… preoccupied, to really do much about it. I’m not even sure how to go about rehabilitating him. I don’t have a degree in Psychology.” 

“Neither do I.” Fiddleford sighed, rubbing his head as though fighting against a burgeoning headache. “What he needs is professional help, but-”

“We will not be sending him anywhere,” Ford cut in firmly, something cold crawling up his spine at the thought of sending Remus away to some facility, for him to be prodded and poked at like some experiment, cooed at by strangers who don’t know him like Ford does. Like he’s some sort of freak. 

Ford wouldn’t wish that on anyone. 

“-but I know you don’t want to,” Fiddleford finished. “And it might be best not to go freakin’ him out, making big decisions for him like that anyhow. We’re gonna havta do… something else.” 

“It will have to be while we work on the machine,” Ford said. 

Fiddleford nodded. “I figured you’d say that. Well, we can probably do both. I mean, how hard can it be?”

There was a crash from somewhere further in the cabin, followed by an explosion of furious barking. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Fiddleford groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “I shoulda knocked on wood.” 

taglist!! let me know if you want to be added or removed, (or if i forgot anyone, oof-) i don't mind-

@ebsrahl @artistredfox @m0rkl @thesnakelord @littlelilliana15 @darsbw @raska-tmg @i-am-harmless @majoringinfanfiction @bluefrostyy @adhd-nighmare @i-am-harmless @anxiety-account @cymbals-kid @chaseerr0rcode @thenoellebird @luckyduck-main @nebore @sourour-rl @multyfangirl16

[unreal-unearthed]

I can’t help but feel conflicted with his relationship being public. Don’t get me wrong I’m so happy he’s happy, but can’t help but feel he’s being forced in hard launching his relationship to the public. He always has been SO private why the sudden change? I don’t know maybe it’s just me

i do feel inclined to agree unfortunately…

i think there’s lots of mixed emotions and thoughts. but it’s not like he’s never brought a girlfriend to a red carpet before, and this is totally unexpected and unusual behaviour. but he’s never been photographed on a red carpet with a girlfriend like this, and then the pap walk yesterday too also something he’s never done before so i can kinda understand why people’s reaction is “gasp why!”

i think for me the frustrating thing is watching the general public react to them and pull apart everything he does because of the insane pedestal they have put him on. to us who are in deep we’ve known about them being together for so long now, we’ve seen pictures of them together for nearly 2 years, but the general public clearly haven’t. and them being public opens up this massive thing where he can now be scrutinised for every move he makes around her because the internet has decided he’s the most perfect man to ever live he can’t do any wrong.

and then his team tries to silence the “he’s so rude to his girlfriend” crowd by doing the pap walk yesterday but then a lot of the fans turn around and are upset about him calling backgrid… people already don’t like hana for incredibly valid reasons, and now there’s already all of this added on top and they’ve only been like officially public for two days…

he also very clearly has a new pr team and that could be why things are being done differently. i don’t think his old team would solve the “hozier doesn’t love his girlfriend” thing with a pap walk. his marketing lately has been different too like we’ve seen with the way he’s promoting the ten years of self titled. so i think that’s playing a role as well in people reacting more negatively than positively.

i’d like to think that if andrew didn’t want to be public, they wouldn’t be public. i’d hate to think he was being completely forced into something like this and i really hope it isn’t the case and that it’s a mix of different marketing team + a different general public reaction than what was maybe expected that’s making things feel ‘off’

at the end of the day, we don’t know them. the thing i’m finding really infuriating is the public reaction. the people pulling apart her looks, how he walked in front of her, how he let go of her hand before she got in the van… it’s opened up a whole new level of commentary he’s never had before :( and i hope that none of this external negative commentary gets in the way of their happiness. i wish them all the best, i always have, always will, but especially right now i can’t begin to imagine what it must be like

OKAY WHAT A RAMBLE i have a lot to say clearly my goodness thanks anon for giving me such a great opportunity to ramble about this. i could say more too lmao… hope it makes even a tiny bit of sense. so many thoughts and feelings floating around right now. and tried to avoid personal life speculation as much as possible and stick to what he’s openly sharing with us! 🤍

[forsaken-headcanons]

I submitted an angsty two time hc this morning (which im sure is buried back in days worth of hcs by now) and promptly whole day went HORRIBLY. everything that could go wrong DID. like I had a whole breakdown at the end of it all it SUCKED

so here I am. forced by society to make fluff hcs. sigh

noli was incredibly hyped to see coolkid again in forsakenland!!! last time he saw him he just looked like a little itty bitty pill and he was so cute and little and fat and tiny and wahwahwah (coolkid has rolled his eyes five times at this point in the conversation)

brighteyes (idc if skins aren’t canon), 118 (idC if she’s technically not forsakened) and Jane doe are always chatting about wtv… they constantly gossip abt everyone else there (mostly the younger ppl like noob or chance bc they have more drama)

relating to the above hc brighteyes calls shedletsky pudgy or fluffy sometimes as like a cute little thing but whenever he tries to talk to her while she’s having girl time Jane and 118 will teasingly join in and he’s all aw 😢 so he doesn’t really like them

builderman x brighteyes x shedletsky (or alternatively builderman x doom x shedletsky but nobody sees my vision 💔) on a double date with John x Jane x 1x. there is a lot of tension at the table

jane is like the only person who can get 1x to calm down a little with the edginess but then she sees John and gets all edgy and serious again (Jane teases her for it)

a jane x john x 1x poll would be so fire but im so bad at ship names 💔💔

-astrological anon

This was only buried down in 2 days of hcs it wasn't THAT bad,,,

The girls would gossip about everyone else there like my aunties at family gatherings. The other girls joining in one calling Shed cute names too help

That'd be one hell of a double date......

And no worries anon!! because I'm awful at ship names too </3 I could go ask abt it and possibly get a poll up though

[smoulderingocean]

In 6x05, June thinks Lawrence is like all commanders: "I can't believe Lawrence was up there. He was never a Jezebel's guy." I think her misjudgment will be the same with Nick's supposed betrayal. I just hope her misjudgment doesn't alter Nick's life (or Lawrence's life).

Hey!

I agree completely- I think that scene was put there to foreshadow that June's reaction to Nick's "betrayal" is going to occur at least in part without her knowing the context that makes the decision fully understandable. Which feels like a bit of a contradiction to her character as she's basically always accepted that Gilead is a place that makes it really difficult to be good and forces one to make difficult choices. I suppose it could initially appear to be bad enough that she wouldn't even be able to do that, but it's impossible to say for now.

It is clear as a viewer that Nick is being pulled more and more in at least three different directions by June, Lawrence, and Wharton, and he's really starting to break from it. But for June, who is often quite a selfish person, she doesn't see all that. She is so focused on the resistance and Hannah (both understandable) and doesn't consider very deeply what Nick is going through (less understandable). She knows Nick has a wife and a baby on the way and while that devastates her, I don't know if June is quite aware of just what she's asking him to do by bringing the resistance into his life. (And she may not even be fully aware of the kind of power that his father in law wields and the danger Nick is in.) Nick has to fight for his unborn child in a way that mirrors June's fight for Hannah, only with this baby not yet born, he can't fight to get the child out yet because Rose won't leave and that means holding his place within Gilead and having to say no to June and the resistance until such a thing is possible to attempt. And that's without getting into Nick's daddy issues and need for stability that's also a factor in all of this.

I also hope that it's not going to alter or cause harm to Nick and Lawrence. I think physically speaking that Nick will end up ok, but I'm less certain about Lawrence. On an emotional level, I'm honestly not sure how it's going to go for Nick. (Lawrence isn't someone I worry about in this way.) June can be quite cruel and Nick seems to be in a more sensitive space as of late, and so her reaction could crush him. We already know that he feels like he's nothing to her and that he's terrified of her seeing him differently which is why he keeps his past hidden, so her seeing him in a different light and lashing out and/or being emotionally devastated by whatever he does is going to be incredibly hard on him. I can only hope that this results in character growth for both of them. I'm sure it will for Nick, but will it for June in a positive way? I'm not certain.

[mxggieqt]

Fine China

“I guess they really got the best of us, didn’t they?”

Reminisce. To reminisce means to look back on the past, you were doing a lot of reminiscing lately. Which explains why you were perched in your armchair, staring out the window. Rain pattering on the glass, your free hand's index finger tracing the raindrops. It would've been mindless daydreaming if not for the cup of tea propped in your hand. 

Fingers graced around the handle as you sipped, the familiar taste of peppermint coating your tongue as you sipped. After every sip, guilt seemed to be the only thing other than tea pouring in your stomach. The day of Lily's birth haunted your mind effortlessly. 

One life begins, one comes undone.

On that fateful day, you were engaged in a back and forth argument with Patrick, your fiance. You weren't supposed to find out about his affair with Tashi, you never were. Tears refused to stop flowing out of your eyes, gruesome sobs etched out of your throat as your hands wrapped around your stomach as if you had just been stabbed. His phone was carelessly dropped onto the coffee table, it displayed the messages from Tashi after their mutual night of cheating. Patrick's attempts to reason with you only served to fill your rage's overfilling cup.

''It meant.. nothing, I promise you it meant nothing.'' He attempted to justify his actions, his hands raising in a surrender motion. His face was masked with guilt, looking back on it now, you wonder if he actually felt it internally.

''We're engaged, Patrick!'' You spoke, exasperated that you even had to explain it, ''It means a lot, actually. Christ, do you even think?'' You questioned, rightfully so. The way he attempted to downplay the situation made you astounded in ways you didn't know possible.

''Please, I know it doesn't make it any better but-'' In a fit of rage, you cut him off with,

''Get the fuck out, Patrick!'' You shouted, familiar words rung in his ears. He stared at you, mouth opening before he wisely shut it. And he did indeed, get the fuck out. That phrase seemed to rub him the wrong way, you noticed that. You noticed everything, you were incredibly hyperaware. But no, you weren't there in the room with Tashi and her torn ACL, or the hallway where Patrick stood bewildered by the words that escaped Art's throat, ''Get the fuck out, Patrick!''

One love begins, one comes undone.

So he got the fuck out, in both situations, the sound of a slammed door rung through your ears. You slightly stumbled against the coffee table, and just when you thought you could take a minute to process everything, the message buzzed on your phone,

''Tashi's in labor. Meet you there.''

Are you fucking kidding me? You thought to yourself, you were overwhelmed, so overwhelmed. You quickly packed your purse with the essentials, frantic hands wavering as you did so. You placed one hand on the doorknob and twisted it, the door slammed behind you. 

You bolted for the elevator, pushing the button frantically. When it took too long, you ran to the stairwell, quickly trotting down each step until you reached the entrance to the lobby. It took about four flights, you were extremely out of breath. Huffing and puffing, you jiggled the door handle to open. 

When you were outside, greeted by the loud and abrasive scenery and sound of the city, you hailed a cab. Shaky hands opened the backseat as you tipped the driver and told them the location. 

You exhaled, leg bouncing up and down as your head turned to stare out the window. Hands ran up and down your jeans in some kind of method to calm yourself down. You found yourself spiraling about each previous event that lead up to this moment. That familiar sickness you felt regularly coated your insides.

The spiraling increased, as well as the speed of your hands on your jeans. Before you knew it, the driver was parked outside the hospital. You gave a quick thank you and a small, forced smile before stepping out of the car, and into the hospital. Big automatic glass doors opened as you walked in, as well as the smell of antiseptic. 

Your hands fiddled together as you walked up to the receptionist, she looked up at you.. rather bored, honestly. It only served to unnerve you further. 

''Uh, I'm Y/N... uh.. here to see Tashi..'' You stammered, instantly regretting your absolute every movement. The receptionist typed on her computer and scribbled your name on a visitor sticker.

''Okay, she's in Labor & Delivery, third floor." She droned out, giving you a quick glance before returning to typing on her laptop. You nodded, unpeeling the sticker and plopping it on your shirt, it was a little crooked due to your placement. You found the big, metal elevators. Stepping into one that was slightly crowded, you pressed level 3. Your fingers found themselves twiddling with each other again, your lips pursed together. When the elevator doors finally opened on your floor, you walked out.

After a little bit of walking around, you spotted a nurses' station, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and fingers anxiously tapped on the desk,

''Hi, uh, I'm here to see Tashi?'' Your fingers were twitching in anticipation, your voice slightly croaked. If you could go one day without embarassing yourself-

''Room 317, down the hall to your right.'' She graced you with a tight-lipped smile before looking back down at her work.

The walk to Tashi's room felt endless, to say the least. Your nerves were writhing, you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at her. Even after the affair, she was still your best friend. Some things are better left unsaid. It was a lesson you were taught young with girl friendships.

You didn't have to knock on the door to her room, Art practically pulled you in, as if he was glad you were here. Your head turned to face Tashi,  couple machines stuck to her, her palms placed on to her stomach. She looked at you with unadulterated softness, she needed you. She needed her best friend.

''Tashi, hey.'' Was all you could etch out right now. You both looked like you could cry. Twenty years of friendship lead up to this very moment. You knelt down next to her, holding her hand in yours.

''I'm so scared.'' She whispered under her breath to you, as if she didn't want Art to hear. You nodded, chuckling slightly as you wiped tears from both of your eyes. ''Yeah, I'm scared for you.'' You half jokingly replied, you both chuckled.

You both shared a look that spoke volumes. Her brown eyes clashed with your eye colour. You both were like a perfect matching set, never complete without the other. The moment was interrupted by Art,

''I'm gonna go get a coffee,'' He spoke, you gave a quick nod and smile before turning your attention back to Tashi. She opened her mouth to speak, but by her sudden hesitation to talk, you shut her down, ''It's okay. There's no need for that right now,'' your tone soothed her. The look of regret in her eyes was apparent to you, just you. Maybe because you were the only person she ever truly confided in.

''I'm sorry.'' The apology escaped her lips, you nodded and smiled. It was genuine. It may of been two words, but you knew how hard it was her to be.. genuine. ''I could never be mad at you, no.. not you,'' You muttered out, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

The pair of you sat there in silence, fingers intertwined, thumbing over each other's laced-in-hands. Tashi let out a wince, your head snapped to face her. In the manner of a couple of seconds winces turned into grunts, grunts turned into guttural almost-screams of pain. That's when you realised, Lily was being born. Conveniently, Art waltzed in handing a cup of coffee to you, his own cup being placed quickly on a seat.

''Holy shit! Babe, hold on, I'll be back. Gotta call a nurse!'' He bolted out the room, calling for a nurse, Tashi squeezed your hand tighter, you soothed her by just being there. Words weren't necessary between you two.

Art stumbled in with a nurse, her calm nature was a stark contrast to the panicked enviornment of the room. She pulled up the white sheets, asssesing the situation. “You’re ready,” she said with a soft but firm voice. “We’re having a baby. Let’s get you in position.”

Tashi was gripping you at this point like she would a racquet. ''I can't- I'm not.. I'm not ready.'' She winced, looking up at you, she was horrified. That much was noticeable. You softly hushed her, ''Shhh.. yes you can.'' You soothingly but firmly stated as the nurse positioned Tashi. Art stood behind your knelt form, stroking Tashi's hair, ''C'mon babe. You got this.''

Through a fit of screams, sobs, sweat, Lily was born. Tashi held her babygirl for a minute, her and Art murmuring lovingly to each other, cooing at the baby. You softly smiled before speaking up, ''I'll be back.''

You walked out of the room, finding a vending machine in a quiet spot and sighing. Before you knew it, you were crying. Tears flowed out of your eyes, whimpers of pure sadness slipping out of your lips. 

Art calmly walked up to you, nonchalantly leaning against the opposite side of the vending machine,

''I'm not gonna make you talk. But I am here.'' He spoke, watching as you broke down in front of him. He wanted to hold you, but he wasn't entirely sure how okay with that you'd be. So he just stood there. Waiting.

“You should go. Be with your wife.” You replied, there wasn’t a hint of malice behind your tone. You just didn’t want to be a burden.

“She’s sleeping. Do you want to hold Lily?” He replied in offering, you looked up at him, tears cascading down your cheeks. You wiped them with your sleeves and nodded. He walked over to you, wrapped an arm around your shoulder and walked with you, he looked down at you, you knew he was worried. It made you want to shrug him off, but you didn’t. Why didn’t you?

You two softly crept into Tashi’s room. She was lied down, sleeping soundly with her newborn baby strapped to her chest. The sight made your heart ache. Art softly pried the baby out of her hands and softly placed her into yours. You cradled Lily, smiling softly down at her. 

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Art murmured in attempt to not wake up Tashi, or Lily. You looked back at him, “She’s perfect.” You replied, before turning your attention back to the baby girl in your arms. 

Currently? That baby girl- Lily, started clinging on your leg. You were babysitting for your dear friends. She cut you straight out of that reminisce and right back into your current world. 

“Hi, angel.” You softly spoke, looking down at the little girl who was clinging at leg, “Aunt Y/N, can you tell me one of your stories again?” Her curious voice piped up. You chuckled, nodding, she climbed up your armchair and sat on the arm rest. Your arm reached out to support her form. “Why not? Hm. Seems to be one of those days.” You replied, looking down at her with pure love. She kissed your cheek, you scrunched your nose up at her in a playful manner.

“Well, the day when you were born was hectic, little miss. Where do I begin…”

[murglor]

Hey, buddy, I'm not the one who decided you needed to issue an apology for being antagonistic - that was all you. I assume some level of self awareness was involved. Was the apology insincere or something? But let's talk tags first, then the rest.

1. Villainous personal traits. Yes, Azula has positive/heroic traits. She's loyal to her father and takes her duties and responsibilities incredibly seriously. She leads from the front and she doesn't ask her subordinates to do anything she isn't willing to do herself in terms of facing danger. She's clever, she's adaptable, she treats non-benders as valued allies (if on her side) and significant threats (if not). She's a whole lot less likely to rage out and yell at people than Zuko is, at least until she suffers a psychotic break. She's hard working. She's insightful. She uses the bare minimum of force that will achieve her goals, all of which (with one very notable exception) seem to be to advance the cause of her father/nation.

Note that I'm talking about positive traits (and not her flaws) because they don't align with her villainous role. If she had been raised (indoctrinated) into Air Nomad culture and values, her loyalty and sense of duty would be good things; sadly, she employs them towards an evil cause (the Fire Nation's war of imperialist conquest) because that's her political alignment and how she was raised.

2. Anti-villain. You acknowledge I defined it properly, you just don't appear to be aware of any of the nuance in her character. Has Azula ever said or done anything that suggests she doesn't believe (per the propaganda with which she was raised) that the Fire Nation's benevolent rule is the best thing possible for those under it? (Unlike Zuko, who has actually been out of the FN before, explored the Air Temples, and expresses that he doesn't buy into FN propaganda in Season 1) And the one time Azula defies her father, it's to ignore her orders (bring back Iroh and Zuko, alive or dead) and find a way to bring Zuko home as a hero who will win their father's esteem. She doesn't want the throne, and only talks about the glory of the Fire Nation, never personal glory. She just wants to make her dad happy with her and bring her brother home (and, possibly, avoid having Ozai burn off her face, though how much Zuko's scarring and banishment drive her perfectionist and obedience is never explicit).

3. Azula doing all of the emotional labor in her relationship with Zuko. (Note that this is typical of all his relationships, especially with women.) She warns Zuko about Azulon's demand that Ozai kill him; she reassures him that he's restored his own honor; she warns him that seeking out Iroh could be misinterpreted; she answers questions he asks her (about Sozin); she tries to cheer him up and include him in things at Ember Island.

You seem to be fooled by what Azula says, rather than looking at her actual choices. Zuko has his mantra that Azula always lies, but his examples (from Zuko alone) are only ever of her telling the truth. Azula's lie is the one she tells about her own motivations - she's tough and strong and independent and cruel and doesn't have human frailties. That's why she laughs off her own insecurities about her mother's affection on the beach, and it's why even at age 8 or 9 she can't express concern for Zuko and instead delivers the warning by taunting him. (You see throughout Zuko Alone that she's parroting Ozai.) It's why apologizing to Ty Lee and admitting she was jealous is such a huge character beat for Azula - the Beach is the only time we get behind her mask and see her vulnerabilities and awkwardness before Sozin's Comet.

And yes, I get that the show's narrative (musically, in how shots are framed, in adopting Zuko's perspective, etc.) promotes the idea that Azula mistreated Zuko, just like it promotes Zuko having been redeemed. But it's Zuko, not Azula, that we see throw a loaf of bread directly at a duck. And Zuko's angry, violent behavior towards even his allies is just the same in Sozin's Comet (Part I) as at the beginning of Season 1. Sometimes Avatar doesn't do a great job of telling you the same thing as it is showing you. Sometimes Avatar seems to lose track of what it's told you, and shows you things that are directly contradictory. Like how Zuko learned the true source of fire-bending, and that he's not using anger anymore - then never bends when he doesn't appear angry after that episode.

guys I'm sorry for saying some antagonistic things recently in my posts/reblogs/replies but in my defense people don't have media literacy and I don't have the ability to tolerate it

[intermundia]

i think one of the most infuriating things about using the Force would be the fact that in order to reach out, you have to instead open yourself up and let it in. you must make yourself passive, in order to be active, you know? to see what is really out there, you have to allow yourself to look, which means pausing and offering up your attention non-judgmentally in order to take in the world before you act upon that information. you have to get yourself out of the way, because when your thoughts and anxieties are in the way, you cannot see past them. they are a shield blocking you from seeing the moment, and a filter that leads to motivated reasoning, seeing what you want to see instead of what is really there.

so in a high stress environment, when there is much on the line (fear) or innocents are being harmed (anger), the ability to actually take a second and put aside those feelings in order to understand the situation better and actually be able to fix things is no mean feat. you have to be able to simultaneously detach so that you can focus and act in the best interest of everyone with full awareness of the risks and benefits, while remaining deeply engaged and compassionate for everyone involved. it's not easy, it's not about ego and glory and pleasure, it's about loving the world enough to be an agent of peace no matter the cost. that kind of altruistic discipline would take a lifetime of study, and i think is so deeply admirable as a concept.

[databent]

why the fuck is it that some people cant seem to acknowledge that people can just... be disabled. not through any fault of their own, not because something "happened" to them, just because, you know, sometimes people have disabilities. like, come on

[sevicia]

It makes me upset to see people calling AI stupid or just straight up saying "fuck AI" (even though it's in an art context) because it's like... I know and understand that the hate is directed at how it's being used currently and that people maybe just don't care like I do about this but it's upsetting because that's WORK. Not in a monetary sense at all but what everyone knows as AI didn't just sprout from the ground one day, it's decades of dedication and learning and development and collaboration to make a tool with the intention of making life better regardless of any one individual's intentions and it just makes me sad that there's so much panic around it, both from the whole "being replaced" thing that comes from waaay way back and also the very real concerns regarding generative AI. Like I can't just go up to someone and say "hey, isn't this cool?!" and expect them to understand I'm talking about AI as a tool and a product of passion and collaboration over time rather than a quick easy fix for when you want to see yourself as an anime character without having to learn to respect art first. I don't knowww it just makes me so so sad that something so beautiful is viewed in such a negative and strange light because the entire world refuses to slow down for a single second

[theophagie-remade]

"Not actually out but also no one who sees me doesn't think that there's something going on" is a fun state to be in

[screambirdscreaming]

Beach sand dynamics are stupidly complicated. In some places, yes, native vegetation holds the sand together and stabilizes the dunes. In other places, invasive vegetation introduced to stabilize the dunes fucks up the cycles of where sand is eroded from and deposited, leading to dunes forming in places people don't want them even as beaches erode nearby. (Also, massive changes to the structure of coastal wetlands.)

Whether waves deposit sand on a beach, or erode it away, has to do with the beach slope, the sand particle size, the angle at which waves approach, the wavelength and amplitude of the waves..... A guest lecturer for my coastal engineering class told us that, when running computer models of erosion and deposition responses to proposed beach projects like this, you're lucky if you end up in the right order of magnitude.

Beaches are very dynamic. It's not uncommon for hundreds of tons of sand to shift on and off a beach over the course of a year, usually scoured off by winter storms and deposited back over the summer. Anything that tries to modify that process - such as to prevent the sand from scouring away past a certain point - runs the risk of massively changing the dynamics in unpredictable ways.

And then, with "beach nourishment" projects like this, there's the question of where the sand comes from - where it was mined, and what the environmental impacts of sand mining there are - as well as the question of where the sand ends up if it all erodes away like this. (Did you know there's a sand mafia? That's more to do with the mining of sand for concrete, though.)

Anyway the bottom line is: don't put your fucking house there.

You think you're "next to" the beach, but you're very much *on* the beach as far as the scope of its natural processes go. And either you're fucking those dynamics up, or they're going to fuck you up. Or both!

absolutely losing my mind that a bunch of nimby assholes spent $500k to build a sandcastle that was promptly wiped away

[elliot]