#to cast someone we saw for one scene

[oepionie]

— "HE'S THE OTHER MAN!" . the corpse groom

SYNOPSIS: A ghost groom has claimed MC as his unwilling bride. Unfortunately for him, she's already got a lover

⊹ [ c.w ] — violence, possessive behavior, malleus blows a fucking green laser down ramshackle, mentions of blood, yuu is poor but we alrdy knew that, papa crewel crumbs

⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.6k opening post with malleus! if this gets enough attention, I might do more :P

"You what?" Crewel seethed, eyes wide as an unsettling smile stretched across the red of his cheeks.

"Repeat that."

"I…I accidentally released that ghost from the spellbook," Grim sobbed, his glossy eyes reflecting both fear and guilt as he looked up at the imposing figure of the professor. "And he's taken my henchhuman as his bride!"

Oh, Great Sevens. Not again.

Crewel groaned, his hands reaching up to frantically rub at his burning eyes. The flickering candlelight cast erratic shadows across his face.

"Please, do tell. How in Wonderland did someone with your lackluster skills manage to—" The professor was abruptly cut off by a loud, almost obnoxious cry that echoed from the doorway. Turning sharply, Crewel saw Crowley hunched against the entrance frame, hysterically sobbing into his palms. Fat tears dripped beneath his ornate mask, glistening in the low light. "They grow up so fast! My dear child is already getting married!"

Crewel's eye twitched as he took in the scene: Grim shaking like a leaf, and Crowley, dramatically weeping, pathetically looking to him for a solution.

"Fools," Crewel snarled, striding out of the room as he fished his phone from his coat pocket. "If you two won't be of use, then I'll have to enlist the help of those mutts instead."

The day had started like any other in Ramshackle, but you certainly didn't expect it to end with a wedding. Surrounded by the ghostly residents of the dorm, you stood dressed in all white, a bouquet clutched in your hand. Curling in yourself, you sighed and rested your head in your hands, avoiding everyone's gazes which felt like icy needles on your skin.

Ramshackle's old lounge, with its worn-out floorboards and faded wallpaper, was the chosen venue for your ceremony. Whispers rustled through the gathering, carried on a faint breeze that stirred the dust motes in the dim light. Somewhere in the background, the somber notes of an organ piano echoed. You didn't even know you had a piano…

"Dear?"

Jumping with a shriek, you whipped your head around. A ghostly visage, bathed in a deathly pale blue glow, hovered inches from your face, an unnaturally wide grin stretched across their blue lips. Bony fingers gently traced up your cheeks, sending tingles down your spine.

With sunken eyes and high, sharp cheekbones, Elizan—a "visiting" friend of one of Ramshackle's ghosts—was truly a sight to behold. His complexion had a pallor that matched the moonlight filtering through the decrepit windows of the form. Wisps of long, flowing indigo hair framed his face, swept back as if caught in a breeze that only he could feel.

"You look wonderful," he cooed, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead, leaving your cheeks burning.

"Ah. Thank you," you stammered, averting your gaze and gently pulling away. You could hardly focus on the words being spoken to you, your mind spinning with the surrealness of it all.

"You look... Good as well," you forced out with a cough, tugging at your hair nervously. "But... Listen... I—"

Before you could finish, the door to the entrance slammed open, nearly breaking off the hinges with a sound that could wake the dead, sending cracks spider-webbing through the already dilapidated walls.

On the inside, you screamed louder than the hinges.

You had painstakingly patched up the door after Grim's recent screw-up—a feat that had tested your patience and carpentry skills to their limit. Unless you wanted to survive on a diet of stale canned food and cafeteria leftovers for another year, you couldn't afford any more repairs.

While you were busy mourning the loss of having decent meals, heaving and leaning against the door for support, your friends called out your name in a panic, their bleary and furious gazes zeroing in on your figure. Clad in white, you stood there, the perfect picture of a pretty blushing bride.

The uninvited guests didn't go unnoticed by your "groom," and in seconds, you were pulled into a suffocating grip. Elizan's usually serene demeanor shattered like fragile glass. His deathly pale features contorted into a snarl, veins pulsing ominously beneath translucent skin. His typically gentle eyes blazed with an unsettling fire, icy whites now narrowed and piercing.

"Mutt!" Crewel seethed, his foot slamming into the floor and shattering the newly installed tiles. Your soul nearly left your body as you screamed inside again. There go a thousand thaumarks…

"What in the Sevens is this!?" Crewel shrieked, running a gloved hand through his tousled hair. With sharp movements, he pointed a finger at Elizan. "I'll have you know I can have you arrested for trespassing, unlawful detention, and violating the sanctity of this academy!"

"How... How dare you? Barging into this sacred ceremony—Who even are you?!" Elizan snapped back, his arms coiling tightly around your torso. The crowd erupted in a haze of shouts and muddled answers. Unable to understand anything, Elizan's intense gaze shifted and bore into yours, demanding answers. You gulped nervously, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable in his grasp.

"Who is he?! Who are they?!" he barked like a dog, flashing his sharp fangs at you.

"Uh… That's my professor—uh, Crewel," you stammered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "And those are… They're my… friends?" Your gaze flickered to the group of men who had entered, their expressions ranging from confusion to anger.

Elizan's wide eyes now filled with shock, white orbs glossed over with luminescent blue tears. He pushed you away as if you had burnt him, recoiling from your touch as though it pained him physically.

"You know other men?!" the ghost cried out, his hands clenching into fists, his midnight blue hair cascading wildly around his face like a tempestuous sea. The tortured cries of the groom echoed through the room, sending a shiver down your spine as you awkwardly shifted on your feet, feeling like a character caught in an soap drama.

"…Yes?" you replied, unsure.

"How could you do this to me?!" He sobbed, a dark shadow covering his face. "Running off on an affair the DAY of our marriage?!"

"Well, that's a rather dramatic accusation—" you started, but Elizan shook his head in anguish.

"Answer me! Do you have another man?!" His voice shook the room, and you took a few cautious steps back.

"Elizan, please," you uttered gently, your eyes darting nervously toward one of the men in the room.

Your lover didn't meet your gaze; instead, his eyes were locked onto the ghost, a storm of emotions brewing beneath his features. As you jumped down from the makeshift podium, you shot an apologetic frown at the ghost, hoping to diffuse the escalating situation. "Don't you understand? You're the other man."

"No! You're married to me!" Elizan shrieked, lunging forward in a frenzy, his nails clawing at the air as if trying to grasp something intangible. "Whoever he is—He's the other man!"

MALLEUS DRACONIA

"Whoever he is—He's the other man!"

Lilia raised an eyebrow with a chuckle, his form reclined against a fogged-up window of the room. The weather was gloomy and stormy, the skies tinted green outside, casting an eerie glow over the scene. The window pane, streaked with raindrops and mist, blurred the view of the turbulent skies beyond. Lilia hummed a tune under his breath, a calm figure amidst the brewing storm.

With a sidelong glance, his eyes locked onto Malleus, whose entire figure shook with a barely contained wrath that threatened to engulf the very air around him. The young prince's chest heaved in violent, choked breaths as smoke wisped from his mouth and nose—tendrils of flames flickering amidst the swirling dust and ash.

A deafening crack tore through the air as a vivid surge of green emerald lightning erupted from the heavens, descending upon the roof of the venue with explosive force. The blast of energy painted the sky with a blinding flash of green as it crashed into the building, sending broken glass and wood raining down upon the venue.

Cursing, Elizan moved you both aside, a large chunk of debris hurtling past, narrowly missing your startled form. As more debris crashed down, he shielded you with an outstretched arm, a shimmering barrier briefly forming to deflect a particularly large piece of wood.

"Spectral pest," Malleus seethed, his eyes aglow with an eerie green hue as his nails elongated into sharp claws. With a click of his tongue, he raised his hands, summoning thorns that spiraled towards Elizan, ensnaring the ghost in their sharp embrace. Simultaneously, from the floorboards below, vines emerged like serpents, their tendrils gently but firmly pulling you away from Elizan's protective embrace and guiding you into the safety of Malleus's arms.

"How—?! Ngh!" Elizan writhed against the thorny vines. The prickly tendrils twisted around him like serpents, their sharp points digging into his ghostly flesh.

Malleus paid no mind to the struggling spirit, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he checked for any signs of harm. His expression softened with relief upon finding you unscathed, albeit a bit dusty.

"Beloved," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm amidst the lingering chaos. His gloved hand moved delicately, sweeping away the clinging dust from your shoulders and arms. Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingered there briefly, conveying a warmth that contrasted starkly with the raw power he had displayed moments ago.

"Are you alright?"

Blinking up at him with wide eyes and frazzled hair shooting up in every direction, you nodded dumbly. Turning away from him, you nearly gasped aloud to see the room in shambles, debris scattered everywhere, and the eerie green glow of energy still lingering in the air. The ghostly residents were in a state of panic, their translucent forms flickering as they moved frantically.

"My dorm," you whimpered, your mind racing as you calculated the cost of the damage.

With a chuckle, Malleus adjusted his grip on you, his muscles flexing as he gently set you down. Your legs felt shaky as you tried to steady yourself.

"I will handle the cost of repair, my dearest," Malleus assured you, bending down to your height, his voice dropping to a whisper. Green eyes bore into yours, strands of his midnight hair falling over his face. "You will not need to worry about such things once we are formally betrothed."

You froze, your face suddenly warming and burning.

"What?!"

Malleus reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek, claws dragging across your supple cheeks. "Yes, my dear," he murmured, chest rumbling as his lips curved into a sharp smile. "You heard me correctly."

"I… I don't know what to say," you whispered, feeling dizzy with emotion.

"Will you consider it?" he asked softly, a faint hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Please?"

Caught in the depth of his gaze, you felt your resolve melting away. "I-I guess?" you breathed, your voice trembling. "I'll… consider it."

A smug smile spread across his face, and he tenderly pressed his lips against yours. "That's all I ask, my dearest."

After ensuring you were alright one last time, Malleus redirected his focus to Elizan. With a flick of his wrist, the thorns under his control tightened around the ghost. Elizan shrieked and thrashed about, his translucent form writhing in pain as the thorns dug deeper.

"Do try to exercise some restraint, my boy," Lilia drawled, tapping his sharp fingers idly against his crossed arms. "We do not want Ramshackle to be bathed in blood. It would be very unsanitary."

not too sure if i am continuing but feel free to suggest some peepl bookies

[an-au-blog]

I'm about to nerd-out about the Fan Letter project:

The one piece fan letter project is so genuinely beautiful. I'm not even talking about the jaw dropping animation and the comeback of the art style. The very idea of this - the perspective of civilians, non-power/haki users and just random people in a world that's already so wide is so cool. And the way we got to experience the main characters of the main series - their impact on the world and the collateral. I particularly loved how they were still there but in the way their faves were obscured, never fully shown (other than the last scene) you could tell they weren't the focus even if the whole episode was a tribute to them and their fans.

(This is what I mean by the faces thing)

This entire scene is just the girl and Usopp (I can talk about the symbolism in colors and shading/the parallels of the marine literally casting a shadow on her while one of the strawhats gives her a helping hand, but I digress) - the focus is still on her, regradless of the speaker and the camera is only following her movements and facial expressions. We only get a clear view of Usopp's face a second before the scene changes.

This too, Luffy is the only one on the screen but we don't get to see him, not fully(even in the closer shots), because it's not about him.

I also loved how funny they made the power scalers in the bar (and he way we saw Zoro and Sanji interact with them. As they are probably one of the usual ones to be compared by dude-bros, it was like an inside joke for the fandom and I love it to bits!)

Truly amazing.

Or the little fanboying moments, so cute!

And I can't believe I'm just now hearing of the theory that Chopper's bounty is always this low because the mariens love him so much they don't want the high bounty to put him in danger!

There's so much to be implied/confirmed! For example, we get to see how many people love Brook because for some reason we keep forgetting he's a world-famous rockstar. He has his own merch, he started a trend with afros and those glasses he has on the poster, his fans picked up his puns,

It was also touching how Luffy touched lives without even trying (not that he usually does), as the marine brothers. Even though the older one claims he doesn't like his brother, he loves him enough to appreciate him being alive when he witnessed an entire war for someone else's. Even if he doesn't want to admit it, it's clear he cares about his brother deeply. It's just so amazing seeing it :''))

(Bonus to this is the little monologue Nami's fangirl has that adds so much about their relationship :))

I'm so looking forward to more ;;--;;

[servicpop]

NSFW ; BLACK , WHITE & GRAY criminal bottom m!reader x detective oc

warnings; age gap , degradation , hate sex , exhibitionism/infront of people (mentioned slightly) , hand cuffs , dubcon/noncon(?) , no after care

notes __ this idea has been sitting in my inbox for awhile but I've finally gotten around to it !

JUNE 19 1999 / 11:48PM

Red and blue lights colored the night skies; not even a slither of the moonlight slipped past the cover of the clouds. The bright yellow caution tape strapped around the fences of the home squealed when Callahan Marshall pulled them up to duck underneath them.

Officers on the scene scrambled to question him but were quickly shot down with the flash of his badge. They slowly retreated, allowing for the man to walk into the crime scene.

The rain had been unforgiving tonight, covering all traces of footprints that might have been left by the culprit in an attempt to escape. A scowl plastered Callahan's face as the stench of alcohol and smoke insulted his nose. The floorboards creaked underneath each step he took, whining with the burden of his weight.

"Careful, Marshall, we aren't too sure if the culprit even left. There's been no signs of escape." Callahan's eyes slowly met the ones that belonged to one of his co-workers — another detective. The other man visibly shuddered when Callahan's pitch-black eyes met his, deep circles tainted the bags of his eyes. A gruff noise was all he got in response before Callahan made his way through the home.

It wasn't a house belonging to someone particularly made up of money so why would anyone make such a mess out of it?

The rooms were left clean, untouched almost. Only a few drawers or cabinets were opened and a few appliances were out of place but no alarming indicator a robbery had happened. Callahan traced a finger along the countertops of the kitchen, looking at the dust that had been sweeped up. This house had been left like this for awhile, even before the culprit set foot in there.

A sudden clattering caught Callahan's attention and he turned his body to the other detective and police officers searching the house, "Did you knock something over?" "No sir, what did you hear?"

Callahan slowly approached the laundry room, twisting the doorknob with caution. He pushed the knob forward and the door swung open. It was hard to make out with the lack of light but Callahan saw a figure dart out the window. "Here!" He called out, alerting the officers before he walked up to the window, watching as the figure scrambled away. He wasn't worried though, the whole place had been surrounded by police patrolling the area.

You couldn't get far even if you tried.

JUNE 22 / 2:24PM

You got caught. It was about time you did.

You had spent the past few years doing various, sketchy jobs in the desperation for money. You lost your job not even three months into it and it had become harder and harder to find suitable jobs to spend the rest of your life slaving away at. You had no choice, it was either that or living off the streets with the local sewer rats as your only form of entertainment and friendship.

Now, you were stuck in an enclosed, dusty white room, sat cuffed to a metal table right in the middle of it with an annoyingly bright light dangling from the ceiling. It was the interrogation room. And the man you sat infront of you was none other than the 'greatest detective of our time' Callahan Marshall.

He was an older guy, probably pushing his 40s by now. You could tell from the way his brows were locked into a furrowing position and the stubble that graced his chin seemed lazily maintained. He also had quite the bit of hair on his arms, his sleeves loosely rolled above his elbows. You couldn't really tell what color his eyes were from how low he held his head and the light above you casted a deep shadow over his eyes, but through the darkness you concluded that they were a yellow-ish orange. Interesting.

"June 19." You flinched. It was expected that he had a deep voice but actually hearing it was different. His voice was coarse, gravelly like wheels crunching against a rocky trail and you could practically hear the amount of cigarettes he's smoked throughout his years of stress. "You were caught about and hour or two after police had arrived," Callahan sounded bored, mumbling his words.

Growing up, Callahan had always hated criminals. From watching bad guys on TV to coming home and seeing his parents dead on the floor and his house a mess from a robbery, Callahan devoted the past years to serving justice. His world was devoid of color, a black and white film on an old, vintage television.

"Did you steal from Mr Broadwood's home?" He pressed, leaning his forearms along the table. They were meaty, not extremely muscular but definitely built from casual hours at the gym. Could you even lie at this point? He was so sure with his words that even the fact that people were watching you from the two-way mirror comforted you from this man.

"No." And the cheap lie rolled off your tongue like it was sweet candy. He raised his eyebrows, unamused. Yeah he was definitely onto you. "So... these photos aren't you?" A confused look flashed across his face as he slid the printed images of your face in full view; it was painfully obvious that it was you. But your head seemed to shake side to side saying 'that's not me' like it was instinct. Callahan leaned back in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face as his head tilted back in annoyance. You could hear the prickly sound of his stubble scraping against the palm of his hand.

"I'll force it out of you if you don't fess up," His hand slammed down onto the metal table, causing it to rattle from the contact. "Fine, is force the only thing you cops know how to do?" It was only natural you acted this way. For all your life you've relied on cops to protect you and your loved ones, but each time you needed them the most, they turned a blind eye to you.

But, oil doesn't mix with water. Your two starkingly different perspectives caused conflict. With balled fists, Callahan stood up, the chair scraping against the floors with how abruptly he stood up. Before you knew it, a hand made its way to your hair. Callahan's thick fingers tangled in the strands and pulled your head back, eliciting a small yelp from you. He leaned in closer, looming over you with hate seeping from his pores.

"Tell me this isn't you," He growled, picking up the photos and shoving it in your face. In all honesty, you were focused on how damn close he was. His breath was fanning against the shell of your ear and if you concentrated enough, you could hear the short breaths he took. Callahan straightened his posture but never loosened his grip on your hair. He pulled your head back even further and peered down at you. "Dirty criminal," he muttered under his breath.

You swore it was just the adrenaline making you hard. There was no way you'd fall for a detective like him. So why did he have your face squished onto the table and your boxers pulled down just under the curve of your ass.

"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Callahan had one hand holding your head down and another on your waist, digging into your flesh. He found out that the more he dug into your waist, the more you'd whine and squirm against him. You couldn't deny his words though, something in you was so intrigued by Callahan. He got straight to the point, and he didn't try and fool you with kindness. But maybe you wished he'd be a little more gentle with you.

Your eyes shot wide open when you felt his tip circle your rim. You didn't even have to see it to know the size of it. Could it even fit? "Wait—" Your words were cut off as he thrust forward with no warning, letting his cock sink into your hole. The burning sensation of the stretch made tears bubble at your eyes, threatening to spill. A groan slipped from his lips as he buried himself to the hilt, "God you're too tight."

Callahan moved his hand from your head to firmly grip at your waist, leaning forward so his body weight would pin you down. His hips grinded against you, digging his cock deeper inside your warm body. "Spit it out, did you do it or not?" He grunted, beads of sweat trickled down his temples as he pounded into you repeatedly, watching your flesh ripple with each thrust. "You're leaking everywhere," He chided, snaking his hand to reach for your neglected dick, holding the tip in his palm.

Your wrists strained against the cuffs binding you to the table, the metal cutting into your flesh as you struggled. "I didn't— do it!" You managed to gasp between moans, your hair spilling out onto the table. "Oh really? You didn't do it huh?" He scoffed and his hand tightened around your weeping tip, stroking you off in time with his relentless thrusts.

"People are watching you through that mirror and through the cameras, your pathetic face is on view for everyone to see," Callahan leaned down to whisper in your ear, grabbing a fistful of hair to yank your head up, allowing your teary face to be on full display for the cameras. Fuck, that turned you on more then you would've wanted it to.

His head slung against your shoulder, an oddly affection gesture for how hard he was fucking you. "I know you're not innocent, but your fuckin' doe eyes pisses me off," Callahan's voice had gotten even rougher, and the anger was clear in his tone. He was just using you for stress relief.

Your thighs trembled and your body started to give out, the stimulation was too much for you. His cock kept abusing your prostate, grinding and rubbing against it so much that black stars seemed to cloud your vision. Your fingertips clawed at the metal table, trying to ground yourself as shameless moans came out of your throat. "You're so loud," He scowled, leaning back so he could admire your back in its full glory.

It got him off with the way you sucked him back in even if you seemed so stubborn to liking him. Watching his fat cock disappear into your hole was enough to make him groan. "You wanna cum? Admit it." It was like his dick was a truth serum, you found yourself blabbering, tears rolling down your pink cheeks as you spewed out the truth, "Fine, I did it, I did it, please— just—" A smirk plastered Callahan's face as he whistled, "Go ahead."

In a split second you found yourself spurting out white all over his hand, your back arched and your body convulsed in his grip. Callahan meant to pull out but you were sucking him in so much that he couldn't. He cursed as his orgasm crashed down on him like a wave, filling you up with his sperm before he could pull out. "Shit," he huffed, pulling up his pants before he stared at his cum dripping from your hole. It was still clenching around nothing, and Callahan couldn't help but feel a pang of responsibility for you, but he shook off those thoughts. His one duty was to protect the civilians, not empathise with criminals.

"I'm done here," He grumbled, picking up his things and leaving you slumped on the floor, still bound by the handcuffs on the metal table. He turned his head over his shoulder to glance at you one more time, feeling a strange uncomfortable sensation in his heart before he scoffed and walked out the doors.

He's never lost control like that with any other criminal.

BONUS ; IN THE OTHER SIDE OF THE INTERROGATION ROOM

"Kid looks like he's about to die," Alastair, a co-worker of Callahan, was assigned to supervise the interrogation, "Marshall sure is brutal," He sighed, standing up once he heard that Callahan was finished.

"At least his tactics work though, props to him," Alastair turned around to face the intern who was meant to learn from this experience. The poor boy had his hands covering his eyes.

"It's fine now, you stay here, I'll clean the guy up."

a/n ; i changed my layout !! Its alot easier now ^^; my previous one had so many symbols I had to copy and paste ,, anyways ! I finally wrote about him ♡♡ the original request(?) was a bit different so this is ooc of him but I will expand more on his story if you guys like him ! Also I introduced Alastair ,, maybe I can write a threesome with them sometime !! I've never done it before so who knows

[amirasainz]

Hey I don’t know if you can do it but please can you do baby Alonzo getting hurt in the padlock like mabye breaking her arm thanks p.s I love you fics your my fav writer

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

xoxo babygirl 💕

Chasing Butterflies 🦋

The sun was shining brightly over the paddock as the sounds of whirring engines and bustling teams filled the air. It was a lively scene, filled with energy, but there was one tiny figure who brought her own special kind of joy to the paddock. Yn, Fernando’s four-year-old daughter, was skipping through the area, clutching a small stuffed bear in one hand while chasing butterflies with the other.

“Careful there, Yn!” Lando called out, grinning as he watched her toddle around near the garages. “Don’t run too far!”

Yn giggled, not really paying attention to his warning. “Butterflies don’t wait!” she chirped back, her voice full of determination.

“Looks like she’s got the Alonso focus already,” George joked, leaning against the Mercedes garage as he watched her.

Charles was nearby, sipping a water bottle and laughing softly. “She might be more competitive than we are. Look at her go!”

Max, leaning against the Red Bull garage, gave a small chuckle. “At least she’s not trying to race us yet. Give her ten years.”

As Yn ran past, Lewis crouched down, holding out his hand for a high-five. She stopped briefly, giving him a big slap on the hand before darting off again. “That’s my girl!” he called after her.

Oscar was sitting on a small folding chair, fiddling with his race gloves. “Should someone… keep a closer eye on her? I mean, I know she’s having fun, but—”

“She’s fine,” Pierre cut in, smiling. “She’s tough. Like her dad.”

But just as Pierre said that, Yn, in her enthusiastic chasing of the butterfly, tripped over a loose cable on the ground. There was a collective gasp as she fell forward, landing hard on her arm with a sharp cry of pain.

“Yn!” Carlos was the first to shout, sprinting over to her. He was quickly followed by Charles and Lewis, while the rest of the drivers abandoned whatever they were doing and ran toward her.

Yn was sitting on the ground, clutching her arm tightly, tears streaming down her face. Her cries were heart-wrenching, and the drivers instantly surrounded her in concern.

“It’s okay, Yn, we’re here,” Lewis said gently, kneeling beside her. “Shh, shh, don’t cry.”

“I—it hurts!” Yn sobbed, her little face scrunched up in pain.

“Her arm doesn’t look right,” Oscar pointed out, his face pale as he noticed the awkward angle of her tiny forearm.

“Alright, we need to get her to the medical center. Now,” Max said, his voice unusually firm.

“On it,” George said, carefully picking Yn up in his arms. “It’s okay, Yn. We’ll fix you up in no time.”

She buried her face in George’s shoulder, still crying, and he began walking briskly toward the medical center, the other drivers close behind.

---

Inside the medical center, Fernando was already waiting. He had heard the commotion over the radio and had rushed there immediately. When he saw George carrying Yn inside, her tear-streaked face red with pain, his heart sank.

“Mi pequeña,” Fernando said softly, his voice breaking slightly as he reached out to take her from George. Yn immediately wrapped her good arm around her father’s neck, crying into his shoulder.

“Papá! It hurts so much!” she wailed.

“I know, I know, cariño,” Fernando whispered, sitting down in one of the chairs and holding her on his lap. He stroked her hair gently, speaking to her in rapid Spanish. “Tranquila, mi amor. Papá está aquí. Todo estará bien. Te prometo.”

The doctor approached, carefully examining Yn’s arm. “It looks like a clean break,” he said. “We’ll need to put it in a cast.”

Yn whimpered at the mention of a cast, clinging even tighter to Fernando. “No! I don’t want it!”

Fernando kissed her temple, continuing to soothe her. “Shh, mi amor. Es solo un yeso. Será rosa, como a ti te gusta. Y papá estará contigo todo el tiempo.”

The doctor smiled gently. “We can definitely make it pink. Let’s get started.”

Fernando kept Yn on his lap the entire time, holding her close as the doctor worked. He murmured soft words in Spanish the entire time, telling her stories about brave princesses and how proud he was of her for being so strong. Yn eventually stopped crying as the pain dulled and the cast was carefully secured around her arm.

“See, mi amor? All done. Eres mi campeona,” Fernando said, smiling as he wiped her tears away.

Yn sniffled, looking at her bright pink cast. “It’s pretty…”

“Of course it is. Just like you,” Fernando said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

---

When they returned to the paddock, the drivers were waiting anxiously. As soon as they saw Yn, they rushed over.

“Hey, champ,” Lando said softly, crouching down to her level. “That’s a cool cast you’ve got there.”

Yn nodded shyly, still holding onto Fernando’s hand.

“I think it’s missing something, though,” Oscar said, pulling a small sheet of colorful stickers from his pocket. “How about we decorate it?”

Yn’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Really,” Oscar said with a smile, handing her the stickers. “I’ll help.”

Soon, all the drivers were gathered around Yn, helping her stick tiny jewels, flowers, and even a little race car sticker onto her cast.

“There,” Charles said proudly. “That’s a cast fit for a champion.”

Yn giggled, looking at her now-sparkly pink cast. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” Max said, ruffling her hair. “But no more running around, okay? We don’t want you getting hurt again.”

“I won’t,” Yn promised, clutching her father’s hand.

Fernando looked around at the group of drivers, a small smile on his face. “Thank you, all of you, for taking care of her.”

“Of course, Fernando,” Lewis said. “She’s part of the family.”

Yn looked up at her dad, smiling brightly despite the cast on her arm. “Can I still chase butterflies?”

Fernando laughed softly, scooping her up in his arms. “Maybe… after the race. But next time, I’ll chase them with you.”

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

Sexism in TOS: Worst Offender, or Progressive in Retrospect in Comparison?

I see a lot of folks claim that TOS was the most sexist of the Star Trek shows by a landslide -- and while I agree that it definitely suffered from the sexism of the times, I also have other perspectives to share to give some food for thought.

I am of course not insinuating that TOS isn't sexist -- it is, but I have to ask folks to consider the breadth and depth of Berman's sexism in his run and ask yourself: Was Gene Roddenberry genuinely more sexist in his storytelling and delivery than Rick Berman?

I'm not telling you to feel one way or the other, but all I ask is that you hear me out and consider some perspectives and make your own balanced assessments. Nobody is obligated to share my opinion, but it means a lot just to have folks hear it and see their thoughts on the subject. So here is what I was originally responding to:

Someone's response to this photo:

"Devil's advocate. This was a part of the popular form of cardio during the production time of TNG. Yes, it was heavily sexualised by men, but so is literally every other way women work out. Men have been caught taking pictures of women while trying to do dead lifts, running on tracks and working on sled machines. They post them online to share too. The fact is, there is no way a woman can be shown working out without it going there. And yeah,t hat includes the combat forms of workout they do in Star Trek. Just look at how Dax dresses when she spars with Worf. Yes, they're dating, but still, same goes when 7 does and any other female.

Aerobics routines like this were made dirty and cringy. This was what women wore then by and large. This is how the workout was done. We make it cringy."

My response to them:

"I respect your take, but I disagree on a few fronts.

The miniskirt was chosen by the TOS female cast, not the male cast, specifically requested by Grace LW and affirmed by Nichelle and Majel who would go on to vehemently defend the miniskirt over the years as comfortable and embraced by them.

Grace said it was comfortable and seen as a symbol of female sexual empowerment during the 60s and thought it would be a progressive garment (and turns out that it was, as it was later adapted and worn by male crew as a skant on TNG) -- FYI those were designed by a gay man and Gene approved them.

This was also supposed to be Spock's TMP outfit:

Literally lingerie.

We saw both Uhura (who saves Kirk in from Marlena Mirror Mirror) and Yeoman Landon (the first to initiate combat with a classic Kirk-esque kick to help the Captain being attacked in The Apple) carry out their combat training in their Starfleet uniforms without ever being made to change into any ridiculous workout gear.

In fact, I'd argue Jim Kirk was sexualized even more than the ladies of the week on the show and I saw his naked body more than anyone else's on a fairly regular basis. He wore red yoga tights while topless in Charlie X while the women wore full length gymnastic suits that covered their entire body. If anything, it went out of its way to avoid sexualizing women practicing fitness in those scenes and instead focused on Kirk.

Gene confessed that he asked to have Shatner filmed in suggestive/provocative ways to "give something to the ladies", so he -- as he said -- liked to "film him walking away" or have him conveniently busting out of his shirts in just about every episode as it were, because Shatner apparently had great assets. LOL

Gene made an effort to at least sexualize both if he was going to sexualize one, and he carried that attitude forward in wanting the m/m and f/f scenes in the background on Risa for TNG. He also insisted that the men and women wear skimpy outfits on THAT TNG planet. You know the one. LOL I mean the dudes even had on less than the women:

Gene also gave permission to K/S shippers to have their conventions back in the 70s when he was asked for permission. Gene and Nimoy felt with all the skimpy outfits they had the ladies wear, why not let the ladies and gay men have their fun, too? It's how we ended up with moments like this:

Yes, those are two people dressed up as Kirk and Spock's penises doing interpretive dance. Gene didn't give two damns. LOL

In my eyes, that was a very progressive take on Gene's part for the 60s. It was actually PARAMOUNT STUDIOS who had the big problem with K/S stories and vehemently tried to shut them down. Gene literally hired slash authors on his payroll and even had several slash stories/writers published in his official Star Trek books (The New Voyages & The New Voyages II).

I feel I saw Uhura and women in TOS engaged in more physical combat/altercations defending themselves that Troi or Bev were shown holding their own.

In fact, Kirk used to get furious when someone would "dress up" his female crew members without their consent (Trelane episode, Shore Leave episode) because like his male crew members, he wanted them to be treated professionally and to also have his male crew act professionally.

Berman brought some of his own personal biases into Star Trek that in some ways regressed it. While TOS had blatant sexism and was called on it time and again, that show was made in the 60s -- a solid 21 years before TNG. We as a modern audience understood why some of it was cringe/sexist due to the time period -- look at any other media coming out in the 60s and Star Trek was miles ahead of what other shows were doing.

Compare that to Berman who was churning sexist stuff out when women like Starbuck and Scully were simultaneously on screen on other programs airing, and we had already had Sigourney Weaver and other strong women in Holywood playing respectful roles.

In my eyes, there was no need of the sexism seen in TNG but especially VOY and ENT. There was no excuse for it when other shows were writing women far better and a number of those weren't even set in the future like Trek was, making it age even faster due to having those dated perspectives frequently highlighted.

In the Center Seat documentary as well as "The Fifty Year Mission" book you will find cast members, writers and other studio alumni who attest to this. Some discussions from "The Fifty Year Mission":

"First, Berman was supposed to have been a real sleaze ball . . . According to Terry Farrel, he would go on constantly about how her breasts weren't big enough, how she should do something about it, and how his secretary was a good example to follow as she had huge breasts. She even had to have fittings to get larger bras, and that was all done at his behest.

Later Berman and Braga developed a name for Jeri Ryan's character prior Seven of Nine. They originally called the character "perineum" which if you look it up it is the area between the anus and the scrotum. Later they floated the name "6 of 9". I mean, what does it tell you about where these two were coming from in the development of this character if they had names like that put forward in all seriousness for her?"

Gene Roddenberry also had some of his own more progressive ideas for TNG cut or watered down by Berman. Roddenberry agreed TNG should have homosexual relationships and representation at a con in the 80s and insisted on it in a meeting with his writers -- something Berman later would not honor. Gene wanted the AIDS episode, showing m/m and f/f in the Riza scenes -- these were some of Roddenberry's requests to include in TNG that Berman later stonewalled.

Berman's era was sadly dated by his own misogynist bias, IMO, to the point that it can somewhat hurt the shows he worked on through his cringe egoism and blatant disrespect toward his female cast.

There is a reason why Gene could keep female actresses working with him and Berman had a revolving door of women that he couldn't seem to keep working for him -- he was abhorrent to women, on and off set. Gene wasn't perfect at all, he had a lot of issues himself -- but Berman was a whole other level. Just look at what he did to poor Jolene Blalock, Marina Sirtis and his toxic commenting on her body weight which exacerbated her struggles with eating disorders, or how he treated and talked to Terry Farrell.

Anyway, just some food for thought. I'm not saying anyone is wrong regarding a take like that, but there are a variety of ways to look at this. Gene Roddenberry isn't a saint by any means, but it definitely bothers me how folks will tote the Berman era as if it were the lesser of two evils or the more progressive depiction of women when I felt there were far more concerning portrayals of women in his era with far less justification.

(P.S: I don't event want to go near the sheer amount of "creepy old dude/villain preys on innocent/naïve/scared young woman or little girl" stories there were in Berman's era, either. But that's a whole other can of worms I can write about in a part 2.)

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Photos from Facebook from a guy who teaches a storm class here in Oklahoma.

Wrapping up Twisters opening weekend with one more behind the scenes memory.

In April, 2023, we were approached by the Twisters production office about doing a storm spotter class for the cast and crew. As we talked about the class, I asked them if they wanted 1) a storm spotter class; 2) a weather class with info to help actors with their roles in the movie; or 3) a tornado safety class to help everyone new to Oklahoma in springtime. The answer was yes - we want all three.

On May 3rd, 2023, we hosted nine of the cast and nine crew members for the training. It didn't really have a name, but I've heard someone refer to it as Tornado Bootcamp or Tornadoes 101. We started around 8am and it lasted two hours.

I covered Oklahoma tornado culture to illustrate how big of a deal tornadoes are to the people who live here, covering everything from Saturday siren tests to IPAs named after weather terms to TV meteorologist drinking games and bingo cards to storm anxiety and PTSD. I talked about the Twister effect, which saw meteorology school enrollments double or triple in some cases after Twister came out. I did some basic storm spotter training and a little severe weather meteorology, and wrapped up with tornado safety (including a slide illustrating how it was not safe to shelter under a wooden bridge or by strapping yourself to a pipe using screen grabs from Twister.)

The class was very interactive. Daisy Edgar Jones and Glen Powell sat front row center and Daisy had her notebook and took notes the entire time. I got really good questions from the class and I could tell they were genuinely interested.

We followed up the class with an extended tour/visit to SPC and the WFO, with a lot more great questions and discussion. We ended the visit talking vehicles and technology with Sean Waugh. I think some of them would have stayed all day if they had been able to.

[raekensluver]

moonlit confessions

description: connecting with theodore nott after escaping the chaos of a slytherin rager.

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

contains: partying, late night confessions, drinking, mentions of alcohol, smoking.

song rec: i'm yours by isabel larosa- "nervous, trip over my words, you're so pretty it hurts."

w.c: 1.4k

an: in my slump era....

the room was a blur of motion and color, the air thick with the scent of spilled alcohol and the haze of cigarette smoke. the pulse of the music thrummed through the floorboards, setting a rhythm that seemed to dictate the movements of the slytherin students as they danced and cheered. you leaned against the cool stone wall, watching the game of beer pong unfold with a detached amusement. mattheo and blaise were a formidable team, their laughter echoing off the walls as they scored point after point, while pansy and draco's competitive banter added a sharp edge to the atmosphere. it was the kind of party that you used to love, but tonight, it all felt a bit too much.

you decided to take a break from the chaos, making your way through the crowded room, looking for a familiar face. your eyes scanned over the faces, some flushed with excitement, others with the beginnings of a hangover. lorenzo berkshire caught your gaze from across the room, his dark eyes twinkling as he leaned in to whisper something to the girl he was flirting with. you rolled your eyes and continued your search for theo, wondering if he had retreated to one of the quieter corners to escape the cacophony.

as you moved through the party, the twins, fred and george, intercepted you with mischievous grins. "looking for someone?" fred asked, his hand offering you a beer. you took it, smiling politely. "theo nott," you replied. "ah, the mysterious one," george said with a wink. "last we saw, he was playing hide and seek with a group of his adoring fans." they both chuckled, their playful teasing a welcome distraction.

you thanked them and continued your search, the music's bassline vibrating in your chest. the party was in full swing, but theo's usual charm and presence were nowhere to be found. the crowd grew denser, a mix of laughter and shouts as the game grew more intense. you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve and turned to see luna lovegood, her eyes wide with curiosity. "have you seen theo?" you asked, raising your voice over the din. she tilted her head, considering for a moment before pointing towards the balcony doors. "i think he went outside," she said, her voice delicate as ever.

you pushed through the crowd and stepped into the cool night air, the stark contrast from the stuffy room making you gasp for breath. the moon was high and full, casting a soft glow over the grounds. you spotted theo immediately, leaning against the castle wall, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. he looked lost in thought, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon.

his posture was relaxed, but there was a tension in his shoulders that spoke of his discomfort with the raucous festivities inside. you approached him slowly, the gravel crunching under your feet. "mind if i join?" you called out, your voice low and gentle. he glanced over, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "thought you'd be in there, cheering for the champs," he said, nodding towards the party.

you took a seat beside him, the cold stone wall biting into your back. "not really my scene tonight," you confessed, taking a sip of the beer that had grown warm in your hand. "yeah, me neither," theo said, taking a long drag of his cigarette. the silence between you grew comfortable, filled only by the distant sound of the party and the occasional hoot of an owl.

theo's eyes flickered to you, the embers of his cigarette casting a warm glow on his face. "you okay?" he asked, his voice genuinely concerned. you shrugged, feeling the weight of the night's expectations lifting. "just needed some fresh air," you replied, watching as he exhaled a plume of smoke. the air around you felt charged, as if the very molecules were holding their breath.

his gaze searched yours for a moment before he spoke again. "it's not easy, is it?" theo said, breaking the silence. "keeping up with all of this." you knew he wasn't just talking about the party. the unspoken understanding between you grew stronger with every shared glance. "sometimes i feel like i'm drowning," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nodded, taking another drag of his cigarette. "i know what you mean," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. the warmth of his hand found yours, and for a moment, you felt like you weren't alone in the sea of noise and expectations. "theo," you began, but he leaned in, cutting off your words with a kiss.

his lips were warm and firm, the taste of tobacco faint on his breath. his ring clad hand slid up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he was afraid you would slip away. you felt your heart stutter in your chest, the suddenness of the kiss taking you by surprise. but you didn't pull away. instead, you melted into him, the warmth of his embrace a comfort you hadn't realized you needed.

his thumb traced gentle circles on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. theo's other hand rested on your hip, grounding you as the world around you faded away. the music and the laughter were just a distant echo, the only sounds that of your mingled breaths and the crackle of the cigarette between you. it was a moment of pure, unadulterated intimacy, a stark contrast to the chaos of the party just a few feet away.

you pulled back, your cheeks flushed and your eyes wide with surprise. "theo," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. he looked at you, his own eyes dark with something unreadable. "yeah?" he responded, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk that was all too familiar.

you opened your mouth to speak, but the words got tangled in your throat. his beauty had always been a silent punch to the gut, leaving you struggling to breathe, let alone form coherent sentences. "you're just… so pretty," you stumbled out, your eyes flicking down to his chest, where his shirt lay open, revealing a hint of his collarbones. it was a clumsy compliment, but it was all you could manage.

theo chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. "thanks," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. he took another drag of his cigarette, the orange ember burning brightly in the dark. "you're not so bad yourself," he added with a wink. the confidence in his voice made your cheeks burn even hotter.

you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, suddenly aware of how close you were sitting to him. the warmth of his body was intoxicating, and you found yourself leaning into it, craving more of his touch. his hand on your neck had left a trail of fire, and you couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like if he kissed you again.

the silence stretched out, filled with unspoken thoughts and racing hearts. you felt your cheeks heat up as you stumbled over your words, trying to find the right ones to express the tumult of emotions churning inside you. "theo, i… i just…" your voice trailed off, and you bit your lower lip, feeling your heart thud in your chest.

his smirk softened into a gentle smile, and he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. the touch sent an electric jolt through you, and you leaned into it, your eyes searching his for any sign of what he was thinking. "i know," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in your very soul. "i feel the same."

you took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne and the night air swirling around you. it was a heady combination, making you feel both lightheaded and grounded at the same time. the party inside beckoned, the music and laughter a siren's call that you couldn't ignore. "we should get back," you murmured, not really wanting to leave the sanctuary of his arms but knowing that you couldn't hide away forever.

theo nodded, stubbing out his cigarette against the wall before standing up. his hand found yours, the warmth of his skin sending a jolt through you as he pulled you to your feet. "yeah, we don't want to miss the grand finale," he said, his voice teasing. you couldn't help but laugh, the tension between you easing slightly as you allowed him to lead you back into the mayhem of the party.

[inkspiredwriting]

The Diner of Destiny - Part 2

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: Okay, some of you wanted a second part. So I thought why not? I've never written a second part to any of my stories, so I'm not so sure if the second part is any good.

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5-6, angst

Five wandered through the fractured remains of countless timelines, driven by a singular purpose: to find y/n, the woman he had unwittingly erased from existence. He had become a phantom, slipping between realities like a shadow, his resolve hardening with each failed attempt. Every timeline, every world was a dead end, a cruel reminder of the life he had obliterated with one careless choice. But giving up was never an option. He had to find her.

Weeks blurred into months as he tirelessly pursued the faintest hints of her existence. Fragmented memories, distorted whispers, and fleeting visions of a woman whose face he had never truly known. Each clue led him deeper into the labyrinth of time, and each step weighed heavier on his conscience. He was close—he could feel it.

Finally, one day, in a timeline that felt strangely still, as though it had been waiting for his arrival, Five found her.

She was sitting in a small, secluded garden, surrounded by overgrown ivy and vibrant flowers. The sun cast a warm, golden light over the scene, but there was an air of melancholy that clung to the place, as if it remembered the things that had been lost. Y/n was there, her back to him, her head bowed as she absentmindedly traced patterns in the dirt with a stick. She looked almost like a statue—beautiful, but untouchable, frozen in a moment that he had shattered.

Five approached her cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest. His footsteps crunched softly on the gravel path, and y/n looked up, startled. Her eyes met his, and for a brief, agonizing moment, it was as though she recognized him. But then the flicker of familiarity vanished, replaced by confusion.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice tinged with wariness but not fear. There was a gentleness in her tone that cut Five deeper than any anger could have.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, and for the first time in a long time, he hesitated. How could he explain the unimaginable? How could he make her understand what he had done?

“My name is Five,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m not sure how to say this, but… you were supposed to be someone important to me. To all of us, actually. But I made a mistake, a terrible mistake, and I… I lost you.”

Y/n’s brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of his words. “Lost me? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. We’ve never met before. How could you have lost me?”

Five’s chest tightened with the weight of his guilt. “You’re right. We’ve never met. But we should have. I was supposed to find you, fall in love with you. You were supposed to be my anchor, the person who kept me—and all the other versions of me—grounded across the timelines. But instead, I got involved with someone else, someone named Lila.”

At the mention of Lila’s name, Y/n’s expression softened, but only slightly. “Lila?” she echoed, the name unfamiliar and distant.

Five nodded, his voice trembling. “Yes. I thought I was making the right choice at the time, but it was the wrong one. Choosing Lila… it erased you from our lives. You were supposed to be there, and because of me, you weren’t. I took away your life, your future, and I didn’t even know it until it was too late.”

Y/n stared at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deception or malice. But all she saw was a man haunted by his mistakes, a man who had come to her not for forgiveness, but for something even more elusive.

“What do you want from me?” she asked quietly, her voice laced with a sorrow she didn’t fully understand.

Five closed his eyes for a moment, gathering the strength to continue. “I don’t know if I can make things right, but I had to find you. I had to tell you what happened, even if it doesn’t change anything. I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry for what I took from you, for what I took from all of us. I just… I wanted you to know that you mattered. That you were supposed to matter.”

Y/n looked down at the ground, her hand still clutching the stick. She was silent for a long time, and Five feared that his words had only hurt her more, that there was nothing left to say. But then, she spoke, her voice soft and distant.

“Do you really believe we could have been happy?” she asked, almost to herself.

Five’s heart ached at the question, at the lost possibility of what could have been. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “But I would have liked to find out.”

Y/n nodded, her expression unreadable. “I can’t remember you,” she said softly. “But something in me feels… something. Maybe it’s just the idea of what could have been. Or maybe… maybe there’s something more.”

Five watched her, his breath catching in his throat. This was it—the moment that could change everything. But even as hope flickered within him, he knew the truth. He had come too late. The damage was done, and there was no going back.

“I wish I could change what happened,” he whispered. “But all I can do is tell you the truth. You deserved so much more than what I left you with.”

Y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with a sadness that went beyond words. “Maybe we were never meant to be,” she said quietly. “Maybe… maybe this was always how it was supposed to end.”

Five shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. “No. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. But it’s what I’ve made it. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Y/n stood slowly, the stick falling from her hand as she faced him fully. “I don’t know if I can forgive you,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I appreciate that you tried to make things right. Even if it’s too late.”

Five nodded, the tears finally spilling over as he met her gaze. “I’ll never stop trying to make it right,” he vowed. “Even if I never see you again, I’ll keep looking for a way to fix this.”

Y/n gave him a small, sad smile, the kind of smile that spoke of acceptance and resignation. “Goodbye, Five,” she said softly. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, her figure growing smaller and smaller until she disappeared into the distance. Five stood there, alone in the garden, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He had found her, but he had also lost her—again.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the garden in a blanket of twilight, Five knew that this was his burden to bear. He had made a choice, and now he would live with the consequences for the rest of his existence. The woman who was supposed to be his anchor, his salvation, was gone, and he was the one who had pushed her away.

And so, with a heavy heart and a mind full of regrets, Five turned and walked back into the shadows, disappearing from the world that could have been his. The timelines would go on, fractured and unstable, and he would continue his endless search for redemption. But deep down, he knew the truth—some things could never be undone. And some losses were meant to be permanent.

The garden, now empty and silent, bore witness to a moment that had passed, a possibility that had slipped through time’s fingers. And as the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, Five’s silhouette faded into the night, carrying with him the memory of what could have been, and the sorrow of what never was.

[myheadphonesareneverloudenough]

Thinking about how Matt Lang mentioned rerunning TGWDLM.

Obviously, there'd have to be changes. Not just in the casting, but in every aspect of the show just due to the nature of how Hatchetfield has expanded and how TGWDLM has aged.

Now that we know for sure that the events in TGWDLM happened because of Pokey, I think they'd design the show even more around the colour blue instead of green like in the original promotional material. This also gives Matt Dahan so much more to work with when it comes to underscoring, think of all the motifs he has to sneak into the scenes now.

Hidgens would have to be recasted, and while there's plenty of options, I think after Workin' Boys he has to be played by Jeff Blim. I don't know if anyone can ever top what Jeff did in WB. Of course, that would mean that Jeff's original TGWDLM characters would need to be recasted as well. Mr. Davidson has not been seen in HF since TGWDLM (save for the small BF cameo), so it wouldn't be hard to find someone new for that role. Sam Sweetly is more difficult because of his appearances in Nightmare Time and the pre-recorded NPMD cameo, but it's impossible to have Jeff play both Hidgens and Sam in the same scene so he would still most likely be recasted.

The only Jeff character that would need to stay the same is General John Macnamara, that's another permanently Jeff character, in my opinion. The show would require some rearranging so that the Macnamara and Hidgens scenes weren't back to back this way. Between TGWDLM and BF, Macnamara went through a lot of character development and Jeff really discovered who he was by the second show, so it would be super interesting to see him interacting with Paul again now that we've learned so much more about the guy.

Now that Hatchetfield has expanded so much, I think it would be really fun to bring in new characters that we've met since TGWDLM happened. They should include Curt Mega as Officer Bailey in Show Me Your Hands, since we know he canonically works alongside Sweetly. Bring in James Tolbert during the PEIP scene as Xander Lee. Even just the people on the streets in La Dee Dah Dah Day, imagine the amount of cameos that could come into play there. Kim Whalen dances in as Becky Barnes, Angela Giarratana is Grace Chasity, all these well-known characters that we never saw during TGWDLM before making small appearances as they were already infected by the hive mind.

Speaking of the La Dee Dah Dah Day number, it would be fucking awesome to get Joey Richter back in the Pete Spankoffski costume for the coffee shop scene to do the hot chocolate boy bit.

I also just think a new perspective on the show will change so much of the context. Like Emma discussing Jane, we now know Jane's family with Tom and Tim. We're now very familiar with Ted's little brother, a character we had no idea existed during TGWDLM (think about Ted's little freak out over Alice being dead at Hatchetfield High...). We had no idea that this apocalypse was brought on by one of the Lords in Black.

Anyways. I agree with Matt, they should definitely bring The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals back for another run of the show.

[yesihaveaobsession]

Alastor Fears?

Alastor x female reader (others mentioned)

Summary: Alastor fears you, Charlie, and the others are just as surprised when you show up at the hotel and see's Alastor's demeanor changed

A/N- I'm back! Sorry I went away on Memorial Day weekend, and I had writers block but I'm alive!! (This isn't proofread so sorry if it sucks)

Alastor stood his ever-present grin firmly in place. He adjusted his red pinstripe suit, eyes scanning the room with an unsettling blend of amusement and mischief. It was just another day in Hell, or so it seemed.

That's when the front doors to the hotel opened and a hush fell over the lobby of the hotel. Every eye turned to you, but none more sharply than Alastor’s. His grin wavered, eyes widening slightly before narrowing in what could only be described as… fear? The air grew tense as you made your way further in the room.

Charlie, the Princess and proud owner stepped forward and the first to speak, "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! How can we help you today? "You glanced around, your gaze lingering on Alastor. He stood rooted to the spot, fingers twitching at his sides as if resisting the urge to flee. The sight of the notorious Radio Demon unsettled was enough to draw curious stares from everyone present. You LOVED teasing him.

You thought you would be the one shivering in your boots when he was around but nope. You had the infamous Radio Demon pratically kissing your feet, Oh did it feel good. "I'm here for a room," you replied calmly, though the intensity of your gaze never wavered from Alastor. "I hear this place offers redemption."

Charlie nodded enthusiastically, though her eyes flicked nervously between you and Alastor. "Absolutely! We'd be happy to have you."

Vaggie stepped forward, her expression wary. "Do you have any luggage? "You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Just me."Alastor finally found his voice, though it came out in a strained, static-laced whisper. "And what brings you to our humble establishment, dear guest?" You smirked at the deer demon, and he shifted, Charlie and Vaggie definitely noticed it and a wave of shock plastered over their faces.

Your smile widened, "Let's just say I'm here to keep an eye on things. Make sure no one gets out of line. "The tension was palpable, and even Angel Dust had ceased his antics, watching the scene with keen interest. Husk’s usual grumbling was replaced by a tense silence, his eyes narrowed as he observed Alastor's uncharacteristic unease. Despite Alastor's smile, you and Husk were the only ones who knew how Alastor was feeling in that very moment.

You twitched your body towards him, and he practically jumped right out of his pin stripped suit, the grip on his microphone tightened and you could've sworn you saw little speckles of sweat. You smirked again and stifled a laugh,

Charlie cleared her throat, attempting to regain some semblance of normalcy. "Great! Let me show you to your room." She gestured for you to follow, casting a worried glance at Alastor as she led the way.

"Who is she?" Vaggie asked. Alastor, regaining some of his composure, straightened his tie and forced a brittle smile. "Someone best left undisturbed," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

[moonselune]

How would Astarion, Gale, Lae'zel and Karlach (separately) react if they witnessed someone random insulting Tav and her only ignoring the offender? As if, no comeback, no fight, just 100% pretending not to hear anything.

Hehehe we love some protectiveness from our dearies don't we?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The marketplace was alive with activity, the sounds of vendors shouting their wares and children laughing as they ran through the stalls. You and Karlach strolled through the bustling crowd, her large frame a comforting presence by your side as she slung an arm around your shoulders. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the scene.

As you admired a display of colorful fabrics, a gruff voice cut through the pleasant atmosphere. "Look at her, thinking she belongs here. Pathetic."

You felt a flush of embarrassment but chose to ignore the insult, keeping your attention on the fabrics. Karlach, however, immediately bristled, her temper flaring up.

"Oi!" she barked, her voice commanding and loud enough to make several heads turn. "You got a problem with her?"

The offender, a scruffy-looking man with a sneer on his face, shrugged nonchalantly. "Just calling it like I see it."

Karlach stepped forward, her eyes blazing with anger. "And what you should see is a beautiful woman who has more strength in her little finger than you do in your entire body," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Buddy, you don't know who you're dealing with."

The man took a step back, intimidated by Karlach's fierce demeanor and the flames flickering from her skin.

"I didn't mean anything by it," he muttered, suddenly looking very small.

"Apologize," Karlach demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, her muscles bulging. You couldn't help but smile at her.

The man mumbled a quick apology before scurrying away, his tail between his legs. Karlach turned back to you, her expression softening as she saw the tension in your shoulders.

"You okay, love?" she asked, her voice gentle now.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Thank you, Karlach. You didn't have to do that."

She grinned, wrapping an arm back around your shoulders and pulling you close. "Of course I did. No one gets to talk to my girl like that."

You leaned into her, feeling a rush of warmth and gratitude. "I'm lucky to have you."

"Damn right you are," she replied with a wink. "Now, let's get you something nice. I think you deserve a treat after that nonsense."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The training grounds were buzzing with the sounds of warriors honing their skills, metal clashing against metal, and the grunts of exertion filling the air. You and Lae'zel were making your way through the camp, her presence a beacon of strength and determination. You walked beside her, your head held high despite the stern glares of the githyanki warriors around you.

As you passed a particularly burly githyanki soldier, he spat out a venomous insult, his voice dripping with disdain. "Look at her, pretending to be a warrior. She's nothing but a weakling."

You felt the sting of his words but chose to ignore him, your gaze fixed straight ahead. Lae'zel, however, stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowing as she turned to face the offender.

"Repeat that," she demanded, her voice a low, dangerous growl.

The soldier sneered, clearly not intimidated. "You heard me. She's nothing."

Lae'zel's hand moved to the hilt of her sword, her posture radiating lethal intent. "You dare insult one under my protection? You question my judgment?" Her voice was like ice, each word cutting through the air.

The soldier faltered, realizing too late the gravity of his mistake. "I-I didn't mean—"

"You will apologize," Lae'zel interrupted, her eyes blazing with fury. "Or I will make an example of you."

The soldier, now visibly shaken, muttered a hasty apology, his bravado evaporating under Lae'zel's fierce glare. Satisfied, she turned back to you, her expression softening slightly. You offered her a shy smile in response.

"You should not have to endure such disrespect," she said, her voice still tinged with anger. "Do not think that ignoring them means you are weak. You have more strength than they could ever understand."

You nodded, appreciating her fierce protection. "Thank you, Lae'zel."

She placed a hand on your shoulder, a rare gesture of affection. "Come. We have training to do."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The evening sun bathed the city streets in a warm, golden light as you and Gale made your way through the bustling crowds. The smell of fresh bread and spices filled the air, and the chatter of people enjoying the end of the day created a lively atmosphere. Gale walked beside you, his hand occasionally brushing against yours, his eyes bright with the simple joy of your company.

As you passed a group of townsfolk, one of them, a burly man with a sneer permanently etched on his face, called out, "Look at her, all dressed up like she thinks she's something special. Pathetic."

You felt the brunt of the words hitting your insecurities but you chose to ignore them, focusing instead on a nearby stall displaying the most beautiful tapestries. Gale, however, immediately noticed the insult and the way you pretended not to hear it. His expression darkened, and he turned to face the offender, his posture tense but controlled.

"Excuse me," Gale began, his voice calm but laced with an edge. "I believe an apology is in order."

The man looked taken aback, his sneer faltering as he met Gale's intense gaze. "What? I didn't say anything to you."

"No, but you insulted her," Gale replied, his tone unyielding. "And that is unacceptable."

The man glanced at you, then back at Gale, clearly considering his options. Gale took a step closer, his presence commanding and his eyes blazing with quiet fury. His hands crackling with untamed magic. "Apologize. Now."

The man muttered something under his breath, barely audible, before turning away and disappearing into the crowd. Gale watched him go, his jaw clenched, before turning back to you.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly, his hand finding yours and raising it to his lips, giving it a small peck

"I'm fine, Gale. Thank you." You chuckle, you quite liked this side of Gale, but you couldn't give that away so easily, not if you wanted to experience the fullness of this side of your lover.

He sighed, his expression softening. "I can't stand by and let anyone treat you that way," he said, his voice filled with genuine concern. "You deserve better than their petty insults."

You leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I know. And I appreciate you standing up for me."

Gale smiled, wrapping his arm around your waist as the two of you continued your walk.

"Always," he promised, his tone warm and loving. You couldn't help but notice the way the tips of his fingers pressed to you so forcefully and it made you smile. Oh yes, this would have to happen more often.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The bustling market was alive with the sounds of merchants hawking their wares and customers haggling over prices. You and Astarion strolled through the crowd, his arm casually draped over your shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips as he whispered witty remarks about the various stalls and their goods.

You stopped to admire a table of finely crafted jewelry, a stranger's voice cut through the din, sharp and disdainful.

"Look at her, the harlot," the woman sneered, her words dripping with contempt. "As if she doesn't get enough gifts from her gentleman callers."

You stiffened slightly but chose to ignore the insult, your gaze remaining fixed on the jewelry, it was rather beautiful. Astarion's arm tightened around you, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the offender. He could feel the tension in your body and the effort it took to ignore the woman's words.Astarion stepped forward, placing himself between you and the stranger.

"Excuse me?" he said, his voice dangerously calm. "Care to repeat that?"

The woman faltered, taken aback by Astarion's sudden challenge. "Oh, I-I just said—"

"I heard what you said, hag" Astarion interrupted, his tone icy. "But I think you should reconsider your choice of words."

The woman's bravado crumbled under Astarion's piercing gaze. He took a step back, muttering something unintelligible before scurrying away. Astarion watched him go, his expression one of cold satisfaction.

Turning back to you, Astarion's demeanor softened. "Are you all right, my darling?" he cooed, gently cupping your face.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Thank you, dearest But you know you didn't have to."

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Of course I did," he murmured. "Now I believe in fairytales such valiance is rewarded with a kiss."

You sighed and rolled your eyes, pulling him in for a kiss by the lapels of his jacket, knowing that the woman was watching you. Perhaps that's why you chose to deepen the kiss, putting on a show for her. She clearly needed something in her life.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope y'all enjoyed it - Seluney xox

[lgbtyrus]

Andi Mack Reunion Live Stream Mini Recap:

-Tyrus is still endgame and had the most perfect wedding ever

-Ambi is canon

-Kippen siblings is canon

-Luke did the rap apology that TJ sang to Buffy and still knew 95% of it

-They said there was basically an entire episode that got deleted where Bex went on a date with someone and Andi was NOT okay with it.

-They all said they'd return for a reunion- Asher the first to say yes.

-They watched a Lemon Boy edit together and Asher said it was a "beautiful edit" and Trent said it was made by a genius and he teared up

-Emily said "Amber loves lesbians"

-The cast sang the theme song acapella 🥺❣️

-Asher had originally said "no" to playing Jonah because he wouldn't play frisbee and they auditioned many more guys until they were like "fuck it let's teach him frisbee"

-Emily had auditioned for Andi but since they had locked in on giving Peyton the role of Andi, they wrote in Amber for Emily specifically 😭 It was because her agent called the producers to say, "We know she messed up the audition, but she'd really like to try again." And after this, Terri knew they had to write in Amber for her.

-They also wrote Iris for Molly

-Terri Minski said Luke's hair was a character in itself. They had told Terri that Luke was an Evangelist Christian, so she took Luke and his parents to lunch to talk about it because she was stressed out because TJ was going to be gay. She had told Luke and his parents what was happening and they cried, and she was so nervous, and they told her that they were so honored. Luke said he thought he was going to get fired because he only shot one episode and didn't understand why he was being taken to lunch.

-The guy whose audition video played before Trent's got the part for 20 seconds before Terri saw Trent's audition

-Terri said Lilan wore the weirdest audition outfit ever, and it was her good luck outfit.

-Terri called them "lighting in a bottle" because she's not sure she'll ever get someone as special as this cast together again

-Tyrus was NOT supposed to be canon, but they shot the scenes anyways. They had said, "We gave you one gay character, we're not going to give you TWO." But they fought hard for it, and they found allies that allowed it to happen.

-Disney is still saying that they are looking for the "new Andi Mack" and Terri is adamant that they already have it, and she would love more than anything to bring the cast back together again for a spin off

-Terri had wanted Andi to repeat the cycle LMAO. AKA, teen pregnancy. Disney said, "NO WAY!"

Here is a pic of the stream before Josh and Trent had to leave! Terri left after a few more questions, too.

DJ Fruity Live Performance

-Younger fans would see Emily and scream "Amber alert!" and run

-Luke uses an Andi Mack journal as his personal diary

-Bi Bex Canon. Lilan said something along the lines of: Did you not see the clothes she'd wear? Of course she's bi.

-They played a behind the scenes clip of the Tyrus bench scene. I screen recorded, but THERE IS LAG. I'm sure there is a better video out there, but here is this for now.

-Luke and Josh wrote an episode of Andi Mack where a blackout happens in Shadyside and nobody can use their phone. Everyone is forced to go outside. But they were too scared to pitch it so nothing ever came of it. They also wrote an outline for an Andi Mack movie.

It was an extremely long live stream, and they were entertaining and funny the entire time. They were able to raise $20k for the families affected by the LA fires, and you can still donate here if you'd like it's live for another week as of now, 1/26/25. I missed them and the Andi Mack magic so much. I hope they do this again in the future.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

wow this is another difficult one to go through. okay. okay.

it's been 57 years since we saw agatha kill her mother and the salemites - agatha should now be around 74, 75. how many of those years has she spent with rio? even if they met right away, that is a comparatively short time considering their long lives (rio's especially) and the almost 300 years they stayed separated afterwards.

the first thing we notice about the scene: just how damn green it is.

the forest and the river - rio, nature, is everywhere.

we're not told why agatha is running, but the obvious answer is that she is running from rio. she's in her shift, she was probably in their bed in the little cabin in the woods going through labor. and then rio told her that nicky was going to be stillborn and, in typical agatha fashion, she bolted, she tried to buy time, to bargain, to outrun the inevitable. but nature is all around, engulfing her. trying to escape is futile.

I so appreciate how bloody this scene is but I can't watch it, it's too much. she's run as far as she could, but the baby is coming now. she bites on a lemon and pushes. no family, no coven, no midwife. the one person in her corner, rio, has betrayed her.

that shot of rio so small between the trees, and yet the same exact color as the leaves? both one tiny person and the very essence of nature everywhere? I've got chills.

rio has brought her orchid so you know how serious the situation is. and I believe the costume department called this a shepherdess outfit? she chose this gentle look to guide nicky's little innocent soul to the other side.

you need to look at plaza's acting closely in this scene because while agatha's pain is on full display, raw and open, rio is keeping her pain close to her chest, she has no other choice. she swallows, she shakes her head ever so slightly. agatha is shaking her head too, completely and utterly devastated.

Rio walks closer, strong determined steps that don't match how difficult she's finding it to speak. her face contracts with pain before she smooths it back in a neutral expression. she shrugs a little, so small and apologetic. remember how formidable she was with alice, how clear she made it look that there was no escape? she can't quite bring herself to do that here.

you know by now what it means when agatha clutches her chest like that. you've seen her poor heart.

she licks her lips, she straighten up, vicious, ready to go into battle, ready to bite and hurt and beg and do everything, everything in her power to save nicky. we get this scene at the very end, when we know agatha and rio and their dynamic so intimately, and it's so easy to read what's happening. agatha will never go down with dignity, she'll fight till her last breath.

rio gives the tiniest of nods, she takes a deep breath. she knows agatha so well, she didn't expect anything less. while agatha is all over the place, rio is so still. her eyes are huge, and there's one stubborn tear that she's not allowing to fall. this has always been their dynamic - agatha's pain is too overwhelming, it engulfs all, there's no containing it. rio has to be strong and wise for the two of them.

this is rio losing her wife and child in one tragic swoop. this is rio being cast as the villain that took nicky's life.

this is futile. we can't fight Death.

oh, but she will try. she's been trying since we've known her. since she killed that poor dog to see if wanda could do something about it.

Death makes her decision.

not only does the grim reaper refuses to reap a soul. for the first time in all of history, she actively uses her magic to stop someone from dying. it goes against everything she stands for, and it's ultimately useless, because not even the power of the greatest Green Witch can heal nicky, she can only delay the inevitable. but she does it anyway, because she loves agatha too much. even if she knows perfectly well that she's just lost her forever.

rio is apparently impassible, but look closer: her nostrils are flaring, her jaw is trembling. if rio can't kill, by logic she can't generate life either. not that she's not able to - she's not allowed to, because she needs to be impartial. because if she lets herself fall in love with someone, it might just happen that their child will be stillborn in 18th century nowhere, massachusetts and Death might not be able to be selfless and impartial about it.

and then bye bye, sacred balance.

who the fuck came up with this story? and made it about lesbians, too? was it you, jac? I don't know if I want to kiss you or scream at you.

agatha doesn't recognize the world-shattering decision, the unprecedented sacrifice rio has just made for her. she can only think about nicky. how much time has she won? a day? a month? ten years? not knowing is torture.

and look, this is agatha, selfish to her very core. but can you blame her? can you feel anything but infinite pity and understanding for her at this moment? who is even to blame here? agatha, a mother begging for her child's life? rio going against every law and everything she believes in to give her beloveds one fleeting moment of reprieve?

there is no one to blame, not even nature - it has no concept of tragedy. (now that I think about it, agatha is the only person in history who could ever made nature feel.)

you did it, agatha, you made Death go away. you made your choice. it's you and nicky now.

oh god, kathryn, don't make that face. it's too much.

I spoke no spell, I said no incantation, you were made from scratch. the utter beauty that is agatha, the witch killer, the master of spells and craft, creating a baby (almost) the old fashioned way - the magic of life that no spell could ever improve.

this is agatha claiming nicky as hers. not rio's, only hers. she sought to have him for arguably selfish but deeply human reasons: because she needed to prove her mother wrong. because she wanted someone who would love her unquestioningly, unconditionally. because she was so, so lonely, and rio alone couldn't fill the chasm in her heart. she wanted her coven to grow from two to three, but looks like it's coven two again: her whole happiness is once again tied to only one person.

the little feetsies!

this shot, dear lord. green leaves and water taking over.

this entry was a lot. I need a hug.

go to episode 9 part 2

[the-winter-spider]

Under Pressure | Part 3

Modern!Bucky x reader AU

Word Count:3.8k

Warnings: Mentions of su!cide attempt, depression, angst

A/N: TB to when this was suppose to only be one long ass cliff hanger fic lol

Masterpost

----

The flashing red and blue lights from the emergency vehicles cast harsh, flickering shadows through the window. The apartment felt heavy, suffocatingly silent except for the muffled voices of police officers speaking quietly near the door.

Sam took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the weight of dread pressing down on him, cold and unforgiving, all the what ifs racing through his mind. When he reached your door, he froze for half a second, taking in the scene—the paramedics gone, the cops now lingering, and Bucky.

Bucky was sitting on your couch, his head bowed, his elbows braced on his knees. His hands were clasped together so tightly they were shaking, his knuckles white. He didn’t look up when Sam stepped inside.

“Buck,” Sam said, his voice hesitant, already cracking.

Slowly, Bucky turned his head, his red-rimmed eyes meeting Sam’s. They were hollow, haunted, like he wasn’t entirely there, looking at him like you were no longer here.

“No, no, no,” Sam muttered under his breath, panic creeping into his voice as he moved toward him.

Bucky’s face crumpled, and he buried it in his hands, a sound breaking out of him that Sam had never heard before. It wasn’t a sob; it was deeper, more guttural, like the sound of someone being torn apart.

Sam’s stomach dropped, his legs shaky as he turned to one of the officers. “Where is she?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The cop opened his mouth to respond, but Sam couldn’t hear him. His own heartbeat was too loud, a deafening thrum in his ears. He stumbled closer, his voice louder this time, more desperate. “Where is she? Is she alive?”

One of the officers, a woman with a calm but tired demeanor, stepped forward. “Yes,” she said firmly. “She’s alive. The paramedics got her heart beating again before they transported her to the hospital.”

Sam’s knees nearly buckled as the tension in his body released slightly. He turned back to Bucky, whose head was still in his hands. “She’s alive, man,” Sam said, his voice shaking. “You hear that? She’s alive.”

Bucky nodded faintly, but it was like he couldn’t fully absorb the words. He just stared at the floor, tears streaking down his face.

Sam sank onto the couch beside him, leaning forward to catch his breath. “Can we have a minute?” he asked the officers, his voice raw.

The female officer nodded. “We have everything we need. We’ll be outside to make sure the apartment gets locked up before you leave.” She paused, her voice softening. “Fifteen minutes.”

Sam nodded, pulling out his phone with trembling hands and sending a quick text to Steve:

Sam: Code red. Something happened to y/n. Meet us at the ER..

He turned to Bucky, who still hadn’t moved. Sam hesitated for a moment, then pulled him into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend. Bucky didn’t react at first, but then he let out a broken sob, clinging to Sam like he was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“What happened, Buck?” Sam asked gently, his voice low but steady.

Bucky pulled back slightly, his hands shaking as he gestured toward the floor. “She was there,” he said, his voice trembling. “Right there.” His finger pointed to the spot where the paramedics had worked on you. “She was gone. She… she was dead, Sam. I saw her, she was dead…she died.”

Sam’s throat tightened, his eyes darting to the empty pill bottle sitting on the coffee table. He felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

“Was it…?” Sam started, his voice faltering. “Was it an attempt?”

Bucky shook his head violently, his jaw clenching as he tried to force the words out. “It wasn’t an attempt,” he said bitterly, his voice cracking. “She was successful.” His shoulders shook as another sob broke free. “She was gone, Sam. They—they were gonna call it.”

Sam’s chest tightened painfully, tears burning in his eyes as he stared at his friend. “Oh, my God.”

“I made them try again,” Bucky said, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands trembled as he gripped his knees. “I begged them. Told them to go one more time. Just one more. And they… they brought her back. But, Sam, I…” He choked on his words, shaking his head. “I lost her. She was gone.”

Sam reached out, gripping Bucky’s shoulder tightly. “She’s not gone, Buck. She’s alive.”

Bucky’s breath hitched, his tears falling harder. “But she doesn’t want to be! What if she…” He trailed off, his voice breaking completely.

Sam’s own tears slipped down his cheeks as he shook his head. “We’re not gonna let that happen,” he said firmly. “We’re gonna be there for her. Every step of the way.”

Bucky nodded weakly, his shoulders slumping as he leaned into Sam’s side, utterly spent.

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of everything pressing down on them. The apartment was quiet now, the flashing lights from outside casting eerie patterns across the walls.

----

The fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room buzzed faintly, casting a cold, sterile glow over the space. The chairs were stiff and uncomfortable, arranged in neat rows that felt far too orderly for the chaos swirling in Bucky’s mind.

He sat slumped forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed as his hands fidgeted with a fraying thread on his jeans. His breathing was shallow, fast, his shoulders tight with tension. Every now and then, he glanced at the doors leading to the emergency ward, willing someone to walk through them and tell him you were okay. He hoped that maybe this would just be some sick nightmare because that's what it felt like.

Sam sat beside him, quiet but not calm, his knee bouncing restlessly as he stared at the floor. He kept glancing at Bucky, unsure if he should say something, do something, but the sheer anguish radiating from his friend made him hesitate. Sam was crushed, you were one of his best friends, he knew he should have tried more but at the same time he felt like he had. He kept replaying all the most recent moments he had spent with you, analyzing everything, how could he have not noticed any of the signs, he was trained to look for the signs.

The sound of hurried footsteps pulled Sam’s attention, and he looked up to see Steve and Natasha rushing into the waiting room. Natasha’s red hair was slightly disheveled, her face pale and pinched with worry, while Steve’s brows were furrowed in confusion and concern.

“Bucky!” Steve called, his voice sharp as his eyes scanned his friend. “Sam! What the hell is going on? What happened? Was she in an accident?”

Bucky didn’t look up. He didn’t even flinch at Steve’s voice. He stayed hunched over, his jaw clenched tightly.

Sam cleared his throat, his voice shaky as he tried to find the right words. “No,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“Then what?” Steve demanded, his frustration and fear mounting. “What happened? Why are we here?”

Sam hesitated, glancing at Bucky before looking back at Steve. His throat tightened as the words clawed their way out. “You remember high school? When Bucky told us Y/N… got sad? Like, really sad? And sometimes…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue. “She didn’t wanna be alive anymore?”

Steve’s expression shifted instantly, his eyes widening as the memory slammed into him. “Yeah, I remember,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “But she was getting better, right? She was…” He trailed off, his gaze darting between Sam and Bucky, desperate for reassurance. “She was getting better. Right?”

Sam’s lips quivered, and he shook his head slightly, the weight of his next words crushing him. “She tried to, Steve,” he said, his voice breaking. “She tried to.”

Steve froze, his face contorting with a mix of shock and disbelief. “What?” he breathed, his voice barely audible. “I… I need to hear it, Sam. Tell me what happened.”

Sam looked over at Bucky, who still hadn’t moved. His face was blank, but his knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of his jeans.

“She tried to take her life,” Sam said finally, his voice trembling with the effort it took to say the words.

“No,” Natasha whispered, her voice breaking as she shook her head violently. “No, no, no. She wouldn’t…”

“She did,” Bucky said suddenly, his voice sharp and bitter as he lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot, his expression filled with anger and pain. “And you’re shocked? Really? After what you said to her? After the way you dismissed her?”

Natasha flinched as if she’d been slapped. “Bucky—”

“No!” he snapped, standing abruptly. His voice was louder now, filled with years of pent-up frustration and guilt. “You told her you didn’t want to be her friend anymore because she couldn’t show up for you. You told her she wasn’t there for your brightest moments, and then you walked away. You fucking walked away. We all walked away!” ”

“Bucky, stop, it's no one's fault, we couldn’t have seen it coming.” Steve said, his voice calm but firm, stepping forward, but Bucky turned on him too, his chest heaving.

“Are you kidding me? We're all at fault! Were shitty fucking friends!” Bucky shouted, his voice breaking as he pointed toward the emergency doors. “None of us saw it coming because we were all too busy pretending she was fine!”

Sam stood, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Bucky, stop,” he said softly, his own voice thick with emotion. “She wouldn’t want us turning on each other.”

Bucky let out a bitter, hollow laugh, his shoulders shaking. “She didn’t want any of this, Sam! She didn’t want life, and she didn’t want us. She wanted to leave, and she almost—” His voice cracked, and he turned away, running a hand down his face as tears spilled over.

Natasha stepped forward, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at Bucky. “Where is she?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What exactly happened?”

Bucky didn’t turn around. His hands gripped the back of one of the waiting room chairs so tightly it creaked under the pressure.

“They worked on her,” he said, his voice hollow. “She was gone. Right there on her living room floor.” He gestured toward the floor as if he were still standing in your apartment. “She was dead, Nat. I begged them to try one more time, and they did, and… and she came back.”

Natasha’s hand flew to her mouth, a muffled sob escaping as she stumbled back into Steve’s arms.

Steve held her tightly, his own tears pooling in his eyes as he looked at Bucky. “So she’s alive?” he asked, his voice unsteady.

Bucky nodded, his back still to them. “She’s alive. Barely.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over them like a storm cloud. No one spoke for a long moment, the only sound the faint hum of hospital machinery in the distance.

Finally, Sam cleared his throat, his voice steady but quiet. “We’re here now. For her. For each other. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

Bucky didn’t respond. He just nodded, his shoulders slumping as he sank back into the chair. His hands shook as he rubbed his face, the weight of everything pressing down on him like a vice.

The waiting room was thick with tension, Bucky sat slumped in his chair, his head in his hands, tears streaking down his face as he tried to hold himself together. Sam sat beside him, occasionally glancing toward the emergency doors, his leg bouncing nervously. Steve and Natasha were across from them, Natasha’s hands clasped tightly in her lap, her knuckles white as her nails dug into her palms.

When the door finally opened, all four of them looked up simultaneously, their breath hitching as a doctor stepped inside. The doctor was a middle-aged man with a kind but exhausted expression, his white coat slightly wrinkled, a clipboard tucked under one arm.

“Bucky Barnes?” he asked, glancing around the room.

Bucky’s heart stopped for a moment before he slowly raised his hand. “That’s me,” he said, his voice hoarse from crying.

The doctor nodded, stepping closer. “You’re listed as Y/N’s emergency contact.”

Bucky’s stomach twisted at those words, his mind racing. He managed a faint nod. “How… how is she?” he asked, his voice shaking.

The doctor let out a slow breath, his expression calm but serious. “She’s stable,” he said carefully. “But it was touch and go for a while. We lost her a few times… one of those times was for over two minutes. But she has a stable heartbeat now, and she’s breathing on her own.”

Relief crashed over the group like a wave, but it was short-lived as the doctor’s somber tone lingered.

“Is she going to be okay?” Sam asked, his voice tentative.

The doctor sighed, his gaze heavy. “It’s difficult to say. Every situation like this is unique, and every individual responds differently. We’re not sure what the long-term effects will be, if any. Losing oxygen for even a couple of minutes can cause brain damage. Right now, it’s impossible to know.”

Natasha let out a shaky breath, her hand flying to her mouth as tears spilled from her eyes.

“And from a psychological standpoint…” The doctor hesitated, his gaze softening. “When patients wake up after an attempt, their reactions can vary greatly. Some experience extreme distress or hysterics and require heavy monitoring. Others find a renewed meaning in life. And… some don’t wake up at all.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair, his chest heaving as fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. He rubbed his hands over his face, trying and failing to steady his breathing.

“We have to stay optimistic,” the doctor added gently. “She’s alive, and she’s fighting. That’s what matters right now.”

Sam nodded, swallowing hard. “Can we see her?”

The doctor gave a small smile. “Of course. I’ll take you to her room.”

They stood as one, following the doctor down the long, sterile hallway. The beeping of monitors and the faint hum of machinery grew louder as they approached the ICU. When they reached your room, the doctor pushed the door open and stepped aside to let them in.

The sight of you stole the breath from their lungs.

You were lying in the hospital bed, pale and still, your lips tinged with a faint bluish hue. Wires and tubes were connected to your body, machines beeping steadily to monitor your vitals. You looked lifeless, and for a moment, it was hard to believe the doctor’s words—She’s stable. She’s alive.

The doctor cleared his throat softly. “I’ll give you some time,” he said, his voice kind, before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

For a moment, no one moved. The weight of the moment pressed down on them, suffocating and unrelenting.

Bucky broke first.

He crumpled into the chair beside your bed, his face burying in his hands as sobs wracked his body. His shoulders shook violently, and the sound of his crying filled the small room. “This is all my fault..”

Sam crouched beside him, his hand resting on Bucky’s back. “Buck,” he said softly, his own voice thick with emotion. “It’s not your fault, man.”

Bucky shook his head, his hands gripping his hair. “I should’ve been there,” he choked out. “Why wasn’t I there? Why did I leave her alone?”

“Bucky, stop,” Steve said gently, stepping forward. “You can’t blame yourself for this”

Bucky’s head snapped up, his tear-streaked face twisted in anguish. “She told me to go, and I did, I left her! I knew she was getting bad again, I knew! I knew…”

“Buck—” Sam started, but Bucky cut him off, his voice rising in desperation.

“I love her,” he said, the words spilling out like a confession, raw and unfiltered. “I love her, and I never told her. And now she might leave without knowing. She might leave without ever knowing how much I love her.”

Natasha stepped forward, tears streaming down her face. “We all love her, Bucky,” she said softly, her voice shaking. “We’re all here for her.”

“No, you don’t get it!” Bucky snapped, standing abruptly and pacing the small space. His hands were shaking, his chest heaving as he struggled to get the words out. “I don’t just love her. I’m in love with her. I’ve always been in love with her. And now I might never get the chance to tell her. I love her so much.."

The room fell silent, his confession hanging heavy in the air.

Bucky turned back to the bed, his knees buckling as he sank into the chair again. He reached out, his trembling hand brushing against yours where it rested limply on the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Please don’t leave. Please wake up. I need you to wake up.”

His tears fell onto your hand as he gripped it tightly, his head bowed as he cried. The others stood quietly, their own tears falling as they watched the man who had always been their rock crumble under the weight of his grief.

And in the suffocating silence of the room, they waited.

---

The bass from the club’s speakers vibrated through the floor, the air thick with the smell of sweat, spilled drinks, and perfume. The neon lights pulsed in time with the music, casting flashes of pink and blue across the packed dance floor. You were pressed against the bar with Steve, Natasha, and Sam, all of you laughing and slightly tipsy, the heat of the club buzzing in your veins.

Natasha leaned in close, her red hair glowing under the club lights. “I can’t believe you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday!” she yelled over the music, grinning as she waved at the bartender. “This is the best idea we’ve had in forever!”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “You dragged me here!” you shouted back, laughing as Steve handed you a drink.

“And you’re welcome!” Natasha quipped, smirking as she threw her arm around you.

The DJ’s voice suddenly boomed over the music, catching your attention. “Alright, alright, alright! We’ve got a special shoutout tonight!”

Your stomach dropped, and you immediately turned to Natasha, your eyes narrowing. “What did you do?”

“Not me but..” Natasha grinned wickedly, handing you a shot. “You’re gonna need this,” she said, her tone gleeful.

“Wait, wait—” you started, but the DJ’s voice interrupted.

“We’ve got a birthday girl in the house! Y/N, this one’s for you baby!”

The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles, strangers clapping and screaming like they all knew you personally.

“Oh my God,” you groaned, throwing back the shot Natasha had handed you. The burn hit your throat just as the opening notes of Under Pressure blared through the speakers.

“No. No, no, no,” you said, shaking your head and laughing in disbelief. “Where is Bucky?”

As if on cue, you spotted him weaving through the crowd, a huge grin plastered across his face, his eyes shining with excitement. His hair was a little messy, his shirt slightly damp from the heat of the club, but he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Bucky, you didn’t!” you yelled as he reached you, your laughter bubbling over.

“Of course I did! It's our song!” he shouted back, grabbing your hand. “C’mon, birthday girl!”

Before you could protest, he was pulling you toward the middle of the dance floor. The crowd seemed to part for him, the sweaty bodies making just enough room for the two of you.

As the iconic beat dropped, the two of you threw your heads back and screamed out the lyrics, your voices barely audible over the music but full of pure joy.

“Pressure, pushing down on me…”

Bucky’s hand never left yours, spinning you around as you both jumped and danced wildly, laughing so hard you could barely catch your breath. Every so often, he’d lean in close to shout a particularly dramatic lyric, his smile so big it made your chest ache with happiness.

By the time the song ended, both of you were panting, your faces flushed from the exertion and the heat of the club. The crowd around you roared with approval, and for a moment, it was just the two of you standing there, grinning at each other like idiots.

Bucky’s expression shifted slightly, his smile softening as his eyes searched yours. The noise of the club seemed to fade into the background, and for a split second, the world felt still.

“Hey, um” he said, his voice quieter now, barely audible over the next song. “I—”

“What?” you asked, leaning closer to hear him.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could, Sam appeared out of nowhere, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Birthday shots, let’s go!” Sam shouted, steering you back toward the bar with a wide grin.

You giggled, letting Sam guide you through the crowd, but you glanced back at Bucky over your shoulder. He was still standing there, watching you leave, his hand hanging in the air like he’d been about to reach for you.

For a moment, he just stood there, his lips parting slightly before he whispered to himself, “I love you.”

You stopped, turning to look at him with a laugh. “Are you coming?”

Bucky’s face broke into a soft smile, the kind that made your heart flutter in a way you didn’t want to analyze.

“With you? Anywhere,” he said, weaving through the crowd to catch up with you.

As he reached your side, his hand brushed against yours, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. As the night went on, filled with shots, laughter, and dancing, that moment stayed with him, etched into his memory like a perfect snapshot of a life he didn’t want to imagine without you.

[hazymoonlinh]

🤔 phainon x astral express member fem reader

Like he is fall in love with her in first sight when he first meeting with the other astral express member. In that scene when he suddenly appear and then he cut dan heng's weapon into two, thats where they first meet.

👀 Imagine how he try to impress fem reader by showing of his skill and flirt with her

Ahaha I have a lot of draft I write for him and my OC just like this. So this kinda base on those draft.

Really really love this! I hope you like it!

Our first meeting.

(Fluff, Phainon is head over heels with reader.)

Fem!reader.

“You’ve got something interesting,” Phainon drawled, his icy blue eyes scanning the group.

The clash of steel rang out sharply, echoing through the quiet ground of the abyss of fate. Phainon, with his usual flamboyant flair, emerged like a thunderbolt, took the trailblazer’s bat as he sliced Dan Heng’s spear clean in two. He landed with a smirk that could rival the sun, looking every bit the arrogant warrior he was known to be.

But then he saw her.

Among the stalwart crew of the Astral Express, she stood out—not because of her combat stance or any defiant glare, but simply because she existed. Her eyes, her presence, the way she carried herself—it hit him like a strike to the chest. For the first time in what felt like centuries, Phainon faltered.

“Oh,” he said under his breath, his smirk slipping for the briefest of moments.

“Who are you?” she demanded, stepping forward, her gaze sharp.

Phainon recovered quickly, his trademark grin returning. “Who am I? Why, I’m the one who’s just stolen your heart, darling.”

The group collectively groaned, except for her. She blinked, clearly taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Forgive me,” Phainon said, his tone deliberately melodramatic as he placed a hand over his chest. “I wasn’t expecting to meet someone so radiant today. I’m Phainon, by the way. Remember the name—I’ll make sure it’s worth your while.”

“Is he serious?” The Trailblazer whispered to Dan Heng, who was still glaring at his broken weapon.

“Unfortunately,” Dan Heng muttered.

From that moment on, Phainon became a constant presence, much to the frustration of the rest of the two Astral Express crew. Wherever she went, he wasn’t far behind, finding every excuse to be close to her.

“Need help?” he asked one day, leaning casually against a wall as she searched through the streets of the Okhema for treasures.

“I’m fine,” she said without looking at him, crouched over a map.

“Come on,” he said, stepping closer. “A treasure hunt’s no fun without a partner. Besides,” he added, flashing a dazzling smile, “I’m quite good at finding hidden things. Like your heart, for example.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I try,” he said with a wink, pulling out his weapon and twirling it effortlessly. “But in all seriousness, two sets of eyes are better than one. I’ll even let you keep all the treasure we find—consider it my gift to you.”

“Fine,” she relented, standing up and brushing off her hands. “But no more flirting.”

“Deal,” Phainon said, though his grin made it clear he had no intention of keeping that promise.

It didn’t take long for his antics to become a regular occurrence. Whether it was showing off his combat skills by slicing through imaginary enemies with theatrical flourishes or insisting on calling her nicknames like “starlight” and “darling,” Phainon seemed determined to leave an impression.

“Why do you keep doing this?” she asked one day as they walked through the streets, the sun casting a warm glow over the city.

“Doing what?” he asked innocently, though his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Following me. Flirting with me. Trying so hard to impress me.”

He stopped walking, his expression softening. “Because I’ve never met anyone like you before,” he said, his voice sincere. “And I don’t want to miss my chance.”

For a moment, the playful mask slipped, revealing a glimpse of the man behind it. And though she wasn’t quite ready to admit it, something about him was beginning to grow on her.

___

Few days later.

By now, Phainon had become a fixture in her daily life. His teasing had shifted into something more gentle, his playful remarks often followed by acts of genuine kindness. She’d catch him looking at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, his gaze softening in a way that felt different than before.

One evening, after a particularly difficult mission, Phainon appeared outside her quarters, holding something behind his back.

“Phainon, what now?” she asked, her tone flat but not unkind.

He grinned, stepping closer. “I’ve got a surprise for you, darling. Close your eyes.”

She raised an eyebrow, wary but intrigued. “A surprise? I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Just trust me,” he said, his voice dropping lower, playful but gentle.

Reluctantly, she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he was holding out a small, delicate flower—an exotic bloom with silver petals that shimmered faintly under the light.

“It’s a flower from a faraway land,” he said. “One that only blooms for those who capture my heart. Consider it a token of my affection.”

She stared at the flower for a long moment, the sincerity in his voice settling over her like a gentle warmth. “Phainon…”

“Don’t say a word,” he murmured, leaning a little closer. “I know I’m not easy to deal with. But I’m persistent. And for some reason, I can’t seem to stay away from you.”

She smiled softly, unable to hold it back. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He chuckled, handing her the flower. “Impossible… or irresistible? I’ll let you decide, starlight.”

In the days that followed, Phainon continued to find ways to be near her, whether it was sharing his battle strategies, teasing her during downtime, or offering to help with anything she needed—just so he could be close. There was no escaping him, but somewhere along the way, it began to feel less like an annoyance and more like a comforting constant.

Phainon, with all his pride, flirtation, and ever-present smirk, had carved a place in her life—and maybe, just maybe, she was starting to see him in a different light.

[yaniluvs]

𝒾𝒾 ┆ ⋆.˚ ⚾️ 승민 : AS WE ARE “ 𝑏𝘰𝘰𝑘𝑠, 𝑝𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑒𝘵𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝘵 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝘰𝑝𝑙𝑒. ” ── baseball guy bumps into you twice in the same day, first the library and then the pathway outside a convenience store, but maybe you get to know him better?

prev. | index | next ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𓍯 baseballcapt!seungmin ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）4.1k ── ༯ SERIES (?) uni au, slow paced & slow burn, curiosity, fluff, strangers to friends to ???, small town, slight angst, language, skz ensemble, very long, y/n is a foreigner/has mixed ethnicity. ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ as we are mv, i love you. i want it tattooed in my head. my heart too. had fun writing this chapter, sorry for the delay!! here you go <3 also, i just crossed 300 followers? really? if you know, i did just pass 200 like two days ago. thank you so much. this really motivates me TT. comments, likes, req/asks and reblogs are always appreciated ! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading <3

the library was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt like it was carved out of the world itself. sunlight streamed in through the large windows, casting soft patterns on the wooden floors. it wasn’t a large library—small, cozy, and tucked away at the edge of the town, mostly frequented by students and a few older residents who enjoyed its peaceful atmosphere.

seungmin pushed open the door, a soft chime ringing as he stepped inside. he didn’t particularly enjoy coming here—it wasn’t exactly his scene—but he had a book to return, one his friend had borrowed under his name. as usual, he wore his baseball cap low, the brim shading his face, as he approached the front desk.

a blonde was sitting behind the counter, his deep voice calm as he hummed a tune to himself while stamping books. seungmin placed the book on the counter, nodding slightly.

“returning this,”

felix looked up briefly, gave a small nod, and reached for the book without much thought. “got it.”

the guy turned away without another word, heading toward the shelves by the windows. it had been a while since he’d been here, and he didn’t remember much about the layout, but he found a stool near an aisle and sank down onto it. pulling a small notebook from his jacket pocket, he uncapped his pen and began writing.

he always wrote when things felt too noisy inside his head. the notebook held snippets of his thoughts, observations, and, lately, small moments he hadn’t been able to forget—like her.

behind the counter, felix finished sorting the returned books before glancing at the time. it was quiet enough that he decided to assign someone the task of checking on the lone customer.

“y/n,” he called, his voice low so as not to disturb the silence.

she turned from the bookshelf she was organizing, brushing her hands on her skirt. “yeah?”

“there’s someone by the windows. go check if they need anything,” felix said, gesturing lazily toward the back of the library. “seems like he’s settled in, but we’re supposed to, you know, do our job.”

the girl rolled her eyes with a small smile. “fine. anything else, your majesty?”

felix smirked. “just be your usual charming self.”

she shook her head, adjusting the loose cardigan over her blouse as she walked toward the windows. the aisle was bathed in golden light, and at first, she only saw the figure sitting on the stool, hunched slightly over something in his hands. it wasn’t until she got closer that she froze.

seungmin?

he didn’t notice her at first, too focused on whatever he was writing. his profile was sharper in the soft light, the cap hiding most of his messy brown hair. she hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to speak, but curiosity got the better of her.

“so you come to libraries now too?”

her voice was soft but laced with a playful edge, and seungmin startled slightly, his head snapping up. his dark eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing in faint recognition.

“you,” he said flatly, closing his notebook as if on instinct. “what are you doing here?”

y/n tilted her head, her grin widening. “i work here.”

he blinked, clearly caught off guard. “work here?”

“yup,” she said, crossing her arms. “not that you’d know, considering you don’t seem to come here much.”

“i don’t,” he admitted, leaning back slightly on the stool. “this isn’t really my thing.”

“i can see.. then what brings you here today?”

“returning a book,” he said simply, tapping the closed notebook against his knee.

she raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer. “you don’t strike me as the type to rent books, either.”

“well, it wasn’t mine,” he clarified. “a friend borrowed it under my name.”

“ah,” she said, nodding. “makes sense. still, didn’t think i’d see you here.”

“same,” he replied, his tone neutral but his gaze steady on her. “i didn’t know you worked here.”

“well, it is a new job,” she said, shrugging lightly. “started about a week ago. felix and i both work part time, after uni.”

“felix?”

“the guy at the front desk,” she explained. “my best friend. he’s nice—well, mostly,” she added with a small laugh.

seungmin didn’t comment on that, his eyes flickering toward the front desk briefly before settling back on her.

“alright, mr. mysterious,” she said, tilting her head playfully, “if you’re not here to rent books or socialize, what’s the notebook for? don’t think i didn’t notice you scribbling something down.”

seungmin’s fingers tightened slightly around the notebook resting on his knee, and for a moment, it seemed like he wasn’t going to answer. finally, he shrugged, his voice low. “just… thoughts. random things.”

“random, huh?” she echoed, leaning forward just enough to tease without invading his space. “like what? are you secretly writing the next great novel?”

he huffed, the faintest hint of a smirk ghosting across his lips. “no.”

“then poetry?” she guessed, her eyes sparkling. “or are you jotting down world domination plans? oh, wait! is it—”

“it’s none of those,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind.

“you’re no fun.”

“you talk too much,”

“i’ve been told that before,” she replied, unfazed. “but come on, i’m curious! what could possibly be so secretive that you can’t share with your friendly neighborhood library worker?”

he gave her a long, measured look, as if debating whether or not to humor her. “it’s just a journal,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a murmur. “nothing special.”

her expression softened at that, and she straightened slightly. “a journal?”

“yeah,” he said, his eyes dropping to the notebook. “helps me think.”

“that’s actually… really cool,” she said, her voice sincere. “i’ve tried keeping journals before, but i always end up doodling in the margins or writing nonsense.”

seungmin glanced at her, his brow raising slightly. “why?”

“i guess i’m too impatient,” she said with a small laugh. “my thoughts move faster than my pen can keep up.”

he didn’t respond, but there was something in his gaze that made her feel like he understood.

they fell into a comfortable silence again, the soft rustling of pages and distant hum of felix’s humming at the front desk filling the space. y/n leaned back against the shelf, her arms crossed loosely, and studied him for a moment.

“you’re a quiet one, huh?” she said finally, her tone light.

“we're in a library.”

“oh my bad. no! but still, in the field-”

“is that a problem?”

“not at all,” she said quickly, smiling. “it’s just… different. most people i know are always trying to fill the silence, you know? but you’re just okay with it.”

seungmin shrugged, his gaze shifting to the window. “silence is easier.”

“easier than what?”

“than talking.”

she blinked at the honesty in his reply, her teasing smile softening into something more thoughtful. “i guess i can see that,” she said quietly. “but talking isn’t so bad, you know. especially when the person you’re talking to isn’t half bad.”

he looked at her then, his dark eyes steady and unreadable. “you think so?”

“obviously,” she said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “i mean, you’re tolerating me, and that’s saying something.”

seungmin’s lips twitched, the closest thing to a smile she’d seen from him. “you’re persistent, i’ll give you that.”

“thank you,” she said, pretending to curtsy dramatically. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”

they stayed like that for a while, the silence between them growing less like a void and more like a bridge. y/n found herself wondering what he was thinking, what stories were tucked away in that notebook of his.

“so,” she said eventually, her voice soft, “if you don’t come here often, where do you usually go?”

he hesitated, his fingers idly tapping the edge of the notebook. “the field. or home.”

“not much of an explorer, huh?”

“not really.”

“well,” she said, her tone brightening, “i'm no dora but if you ever feel like venturing out, i know a all the good spots. i mean, i have been living here since i was nine, and i do work here now, so you’ll know where to find me.”

seungmin looked at her, his gaze lingering for a moment before he nodded slightly. “okay, but don't take my word for it.”

“already ahead of 'ya!” she beamed.

“y/n!” she heard her friend's voice calling her, it immediately widening her eyes.

“well,” she said, pushing off the shelf and clasping her hands behind her back, quickly “excuse um.. felix.” she clears her throat awkwardly. “i should probably get back to work before felix yells at me, again.”

“you should.”

“i should..”

seungmin huffed softly, shaking his head.

“see you around, car girl,” he corrected quietly, almost to himself.

she froze, turning back to face him. “what did you just call me?”

he looked up, his expression unreadable but his tone steady. “car girl. suits you.”

y/n blinked, her cheeks warming slightly. “i—well—okay. i guess i’ll take it.”

“see you around, mysterious baseball guy,” she said, flashing him a playful grin as she started to walk away. “what? you get what you give.”

he raised an eyebrow. “mysterious baseball guy, really?”

she grinned. “well, you called me ‘car girl,’ didn’t you? it’s only fair.”

he shook his head, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips as he replied, “sure. see you, car girl.”

and for the first time, as she walked back to the front desk, she felt like something between them had shifted—softly, subtly, but undeniably.

she turned again, her heart fluttering inexplicably as she walked back to the front desk. felix raised an eyebrow as she returned, but she waved him off, not ready to explain the strange, quiet boy sitting by the window.

seungmin stayed where he was, his pen hovering over the open page of his notebook. slowly, deliberately, he wrote,

car girl.

the air outside the convenience store carried a faint chill, the kind that hinted at winter’s slow approach. y/n stepped out, balancing the plastic bag of groceries on her hip while holding her phone in her other hand. the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a gradient of pale blue and deep indigo, and the streetlights had just started flickering on.

she didn’t notice it at first, not until she heard a faint whimper. a stray puppy. it was small, shivering by the edge of the pavement, its thin brown fur offering little protection against the cool evening air.

“oh, you poor baby,” she murmured, immediately setting down her bags and crouching to its level. the pup looked up at her with wary eyes, its ears pinned back, but it didn’t run.

“hey, it’s okay,” she said softly, reaching out a hand. “i won’t hurt you.”

the puppy sniffed cautiously before stepping closer, its small tail wagging hesitantly. she smiled, her heart melting as she stroked its head gently.

“you must be starving,” she said, trying to converse with the dog, glancing at the convenience store behind her. you can call her idiotic, but hey, she's a sunshine! “wait here, okay? i’ll get you something.”

she straightened, leaving the groceries by the curb as she darted back inside. when she returned a few minutes later, she had a packet of wet dog food and a disposable bowl. she opened the packet, her fingers fumbling slightly in her hurry, and poured the food into the bowl.

“there you go,” she said, setting it down.

the puppy sniffed the bowl before diving in, eating with the kind of desperation that made her chest ache.

“slow down, buddy,” she said gently, laughing softly. “it’s not going anywhere.”

as she watched the puppy eat, she pulled out one of the ice creams that she'd got from the cvs, peeling the lid off and taking a small bite. the cold sweetness melted on her tongue, and for a moment, she let herself enjoy the simple pleasure of the moment.

“y/n?”

the familiar voice startled her, and she turned quickly, her eyes widening as she spotted seungmin standing a few feet away. he had his hands in the pockets of his jacket, his baseball cap pulled low, and his expression was unreadable as always.

“seungmin?” she said, blinking. “what are you doing here?”

“could ask you the same thing,” he replied, stepping closer, crouching down beside her. his eyes flicked to the puppy, which was still happily eating. “who's this?”

“well, a stray,” she said, brushing her hands on her skirt as she still stood crouched. “i found it shivering out here. couldn’t just leave it.”

he crouched down, studying the puppy with quiet interest. “you have a thing for strays, don’t you?”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“first a stray guy, now a stray pup,” he said, glancing up at her with a faint smirk.

“are you calling yourself a stray? am i hearing you right? also- you're not.. stray, you’re just selectively social.” y/n blinked before laughing, her cheeks warming slightly.

“is that what you’re calling it?” he muttered, but his tone was light.

“well, maybe, i just have a thing for dog-like people.”

“are you calling me a dog?”

“yes. i mean- no, but yeah! i mean, look at you. your side profile looks like one of an adorable dog's.”

“so first you call me a dog, and second, you're calling me cute?”

“did i stutter?”

“bold.”

“no, just truthful.”

the puppy finished eating and looked up at seungmin, its tail wagging tentatively. he reached out a hand, letting it sniff him before scratching behind its ears.

“cute,” he said simply, glancing over to her then back at the puppy, his voice soft.

y/n smiled, watching the scene unfold. there was something about the way he moved, so careful and deliberate, that made her heart feel strange.

“do you a dog of your own at home?”

“what makes you say that?”

“you're petting it well, like a true owner.” she grinned, shrugging. “or is it just your dog-like instincts, after all you are interacting with your kind.”

“if you don't stop-”

then came a tiny bark, from the puppy, looking at the two as they turned their heads.

“what? don't tell me you want more?”

woof.

one cvs pet-cup later.

“i got ice cream,” she said after a moment, holding up the second ice cream cup. “want some?”

he glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “ice cream? in this weather?”

“it’s never the wrong time for ice cream,” she said firmly. “besides, i got chocolate. don’t tell me you don’t like chocolate.”

“i don’t dislike it,” he said, standing and taking the cup from her. “thanks.”

they stood side by side, leaning against the railing by the curb as they ate. the dog lay down at their feet, looking content for the first time that evening.

“so,” y/n said, breaking the comfortable silence. “what brings you out here?”

“groceries,” he said, nodding toward a small bag he’d set down earlier.

“for your family?”

“my dorm-mate and i,” he said simply, taking a small bite of the ice cream.

“oh, i see, you're a good friend and dorm-mate then, huh?” she teased, nudging him lightly with her elbow.

he shrugged, his expression unreadable. “i can't cook without burning the kitchen down and i owe the guy for cooking everytime.”

“you baseball types are all the same.”

“excuse me?”

“my grandpa used to be on a big player back in the day, and surprise surprise, he can't cook for a living either.”

“hey, it's called a skill. you can't balance two at once, can you?”

“i cook the best stews, well after my grandma. and i'm a commerce student.”

“it differs each person.”

“whatever you say, baseball guy.”

they fell into silence again, the kind that felt less like an absence of words and more like an understanding. y/n finished her ice cream and bent down to pick up the empty dog bowl, her cardigan slipping off one shoulder in the process.

seungmin’s gaze flickered to her then, lingering for a moment longer than it should have. the way her hair fell loosely around her face, the way her eyes softened as she looked at the pup—it was a kind of beauty that felt unassuming, effortless.

when she straightened and caught him staring, he looked away quickly, his ears turning slightly pink beneath his cap.

“you’re quiet again,” she said, tilting her head. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing,” he said quickly, his voice a little too sharp.

she didn’t press, though she smiled knowingly. “you’re hard to figure out, you know that?”

“good,” he muttered, finishing the last of his ice cream.

she laughed, the sound light and musical. “well, i think i’m getting there. slowly but surely.”

the puppy yawned, curling up at their feet, and y/n crouched down again, running a hand over its back. “you think it has a home?” she asked softly.

“doesn’t look like it,” seungmin said, his tone quieter now.

“i wish i could take it in,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness. “but my grandparents… i know they’d be thrilled about a puppy in the house, but they're already busy to take care of it. and i have uni.”

he didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the dog. “it’s lucky you found it,” he said after a moment. “not everyone would stop.”

she looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “i guess i just can’t help it,” she said with a small smile. “things like this make me… happy, you know? helping.”

he met her gaze then, his dark eyes steady. “yeah. i can see that.”

for a moment, neither of them spoke, the world around them fading into the background. it was just the two of them, the quiet, and the warmth of something unspoken but undeniable.

“well,” y/n said eventually, breaking the spell, “i should probably get this little guy to a shelter or something.”

“i’ll come with you,” seungmin said, his voice firm.

she blinked. “are you seriously offering to hang out with me?”

“i want to help the puppy. you're just a.. plus one deal.” he said, cutting her off.

“yeah, right.” her cheeks warmed again, but she nodded, her smile soft. “okay. let’s go.”

as they walked down the quiet street, the dog trotting happily between them, y/n found herself stealing glances at seungmin. for all his gruffness and quiet ways, there was something about him that made her want to know more.

and though he didn’t say much, the way his gaze softened when he looked at her made her think he felt the same.

the streetlights cast a warm glow as y/n and seungmin walked side by side, the stray dog happily trotting between them. the soft hum of the town at night—distant cars, the faint buzz of streetlights—filled the silence. it wasn’t uncomfortable, though; it felt like the kind of quiet you could sink into, where words weren’t necessary but still welcome.

she pulled her phone out of her pocket, glancing at the time. “i should call my grandparents. let them know i’ll be a bit late.”

seungmin looked at her briefly, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. “you don’t have to explain to me.”

she smirked at his dry tone. “well, i wasn’t asking for permission, mr. quiet.”

he huffed softly, his version of a laugh, and she pressed the call button.

the phone barely rang before a warm, slightly teasing voice came through. “y/n, where are you? you said you’d be back by now.”

“sorry, grandpa! i got caught up with something. i’ll explain when i get back.”

her grandfather’s voice softened. “caught up, huh? does this ‘something’ involve a certain baseball boy?”

her face burned instantly, and she shot seungmin a quick glance. thankfully, he seemed entirely focused on the dog. “gramps!” she hissed into the phone, her voice barely above a whisper.

“what?” her grandfather replied, feigning innocence. “i’m just asking.”

“you're impossible,” she muttered, her cheeks still warm. “and no, this has nothing to do with him. i just—uh—found a puppy. a stray. i’m taking it to a shelter.”

“a stray puppy? and you’re walking around this late?”

“i’m fine, grandpa,” she reassured him quickly. “i’m not alone.”

the pause on the other end of the line was telling. then, her grandmother's voice came instead, even more excited. “so, it is the baseball boy! isn’t it?”

“i'll see you later, gramma!” she said quickly, her voice rising slightly in embarrassment.

“hey! be safe. and bring the puppy if the shelter doesn’t take it.”

she hung up, letting out a deep sigh and pinching the bridge of her nose.

“trouble?” seungmin asked, his tone casual but curious.

“not really,” she said, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “my grandparents just… like to tease me.”

“about what?”

she hesitated, biting her lip. “nothing important.”

his gaze flicked to her, one brow raised, but he didn’t press further.

instead, she changed the subject. “so, are you always this grumpy, or is it just for me?”

he scoffed lightly, his lips twitching in what might’ve been the start of a smile. “i’m not grumpy.”

“you’re totally grumpy,” she said, grinning. “but it’s okay. i like grumpy.”

“i’m not grumpy,” he repeated, a little more defensively this time.

“sure you’re not,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

the puppy barked softly, as if in agreement, and she laughed. “see? even he thinks you’re grumpy.”

seungmin sighed, shaking his head. “you talk a lot, you know that?”

“yeah,” she said easily, glancing up at him. “but you don’t talk enough, so it balances out.”

he didn’t respond, but the corners of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly.

they walked a little further before she spoke again, her voice quieter now. “do you think anyone will adopt him?”

seungmin glanced down at the pup, whose tail wagged happily as it walked between them. “maybe. he’s small. cute. people like that.”

she nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing on her lips. “i hope so. he deserves a good home.”

“why didn’t you just take him in?” he asked, his tone more curious than critical.

she shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “i told you, i have uni and my grandparents are already a bit busy and need rest, you know.”

“would you keep him if you had a sitter for the time you were unavailable?”

“in a heartbeat,” she said without hesitation. “but… i don’t know. maybe someday, when i have my own place.”

he nodded, falling silent again.

“what about you?” she asked after a moment. “would you ever get a puppy?”

“maybe,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “if i had time for one, but two of my friends already have dogs, so i guess it is enough for me.”

“you don't seem like a dog person, but i bet you are.” she teased.

“why not?”

she tilted her head, pretending to think. “i don’t know. you’re just… too serious. dogs are all about fun and chaos.”

“and you think i’m not fun?”

“i know you’re not fun,”

his smirk widened, just a fraction. “you don’t know me that well.”

“maybe not,” she admitted, her voice softening. “but i’d like to.”

he glanced at her then, his expression unreadable. the streetlights caught the gold in her eyes, and for a moment, he felt something strange in his chest—something warm and unsettling all at once.

before he could figure out what to say, the dog barked again, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“we’re almost there,” she said, pointing to the shelter just ahead.

seungmin nodded, his hands tightening slightly in his pockets.

as they reached the shelter’s entrance, she bent down to give the pup one last pat. “you’re gonna be okay, buddy,” she murmured. “they’ll take good care of you.”

seungmin watched her quietly, his gaze lingering on the way her fingers moved gently over the pup's fur, the way her smile softened even further.

and when she looked up at him, her eyes bright and full of hope, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to figure him out after all.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily thank you luvie <3