#he operates in three different modes

[waitineedaname]

I made a flowchart for Binghe's average decision making process

[cressidagrey]

The Kart

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Part of the The mysterious Mrs. Piastri Series.

Summary:  Felicity and Oscar buy their daughter’s first kart. 

Warnings and Notes: Mention of Bee's very traumatic birth.

Big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble 😂

Felicity had come prepared.

Not just in the vague, casual sense of a mother running errands on a Wednesday. No. This was Felicity in operational mode—the version of her Oscar had once described as “a hybrid between NASA ground control and a Bond villain,” with spreadsheets instead of schematics and a maternal instinct that could level a city block if sufficiently provoked.

She’d spent the last two months reading every safety manual known to man. Scoured obscure parenting forums in three different languages. Joined private Facebook groups full of middle-aged Italian dads who debated kart chassis flex like it was religion. She’d made a spreadsheet so detailed it had conditional formatting for seatbelt ranges and color-coded tabs for crash-tested child helmets by manufacturer region. She’d read up on acceleration ratios, steering response, and weight distribution curves so aggressively that even Oscar had paused one evening and said, with a baffled sort of awe, “You scare me a little.”

So when they pulled into the kart dealership lot — Bee at kindergarten, blissfully unaware — Felicity was ready. Dressed in white trainers, black leggings, and a crisp oversized button-down shirt, sunglasses perched high on her nose. She looked less like someone buying a kart for her daughter and more like someone preparing to perform a hostile corporate takeover.

Oscar, naturally, was delighted.

“She’s going to lose her mind when she sees it,” he said, practically bouncing beside her, hands in his pockets, already grinning at the possibilities. He nodded toward a bored-looking staff member at the front desk. “Want me to—”

“I’ve got it,” Felicity replied crisply, already walking.

Oscar paused. Blinked. Then followed at a safe distance.

There was a particular kind of focus Felicity summoned when she was on a mission. A quiet intensity, tightly coiled and surgically polite, that made people instinctively get out of her way. It wasn’t arrogance—Felicity was too methodical for that. It was just… preparedness, turned into precision. She didn’t walk so much as advance. Like a woman who had already memorized every shelf in the store and had a list that could kill.

She approached the counter with the calm, commanding energy of someone who had read every version of the product catalogue and had personally cross-referenced crash data with karting forum anecdotes from 2008. Before the man behind the desk could even introduce himself, Felicity launched into a request for a specific model, safety features, and a delivery window tight enough to fit between Bee’s music class and Oscar’s next simulator stint.

She was halfway through a detailed explanation of why a reinforced side pod was necessary for a kart under 60kg when the man — mid-twenty-something, polo shirt tucked in too confidently — raised a hand.

“Sorry—just to check—this is for your daughter?” he asked, with a smile that hovered on the edge of patronizing.

Felicity didn’t even blink. “She’s turning four.”

“Right,” the guy said, drawing out the vowel. “Well, you know, sometimes kids that young are too small to properly support themselves in the seat. You know, they had to Velcro Lando Norris into his kart when he first started—”

Oscar, behind her, made a strangled sound. Somewhere between a cough and a laugh.

Felicity did not turn around.

“Did they,” she said flatly.

“Yep. Had to practically glue him in. He was tiny.”

“I read that,” she said evenly. “I also read the race report from that year where he couldn’t reach the brake properly and spun out three times in the wet.”

The man paused, clearly not expecting that level of detail.

“I mean—yeah, but he turned out okay. He made it to F1.”

“He could’ve broken his neck,” Felicity said, and though her voice stayed calm, Oscar recognized that tone. The silken, steel-laced one. 

“I’m just saying—you might be overestimating what a four-year-old can manage,” the guy added, still trying to look helpful.

Oscar took a small step backward.

Rookie mistake, my guy, he thought.

Felicity smiled. The kind of smile that suggested she was now actively sharpening her verbal knives.

“Are you under the impression,” she asked sweetly, “that I haven’t done my research?”

“I just meant—”

“Because I’ve read the FIA and MSA technical requirements for Bambino karts twice in the last six weeks. I’ve looked up impact test ratings for every child-sized rib protector currently on the market. I’ve spoken to two different pediatric physiotherapists about early posture development under low-G strain. I know the weight-to-power ratio of every Bambino-legal kart in Western Europe.”

The man opened his mouth. She didn’t let him.

“I have a degree in mechanical engineering. I restored a 1966 Mustang with a cracked manifold while seven months pregnant. I am married to a Formula 1 driver, whose kart seat nearly caved in his sternum at the age of sixteen because it wasn’t fitted properly.” She tilted her head. “So no, I don’t think I’m overestimating.”

Oscar, behind her, added helpfully, “She also welds brake calipers for fun.”

The man’s jaw worked. No sound came out.

Felicity softened her voice. “Our daughter weighs 14.9 kilos. She has enough core strength to hold a wall sit for forty-five seconds. Her arms are short, but her center of gravity is ideal. We’ve already ordered the rib protector and neck brace. We’ll be installing custom padding in the seat for ergonomic fit. And we will not be Velcroing our daughter into anything.”

The man blinked.

“I’d like to see the Tillet seat options. And the steering column with the best adjustable feedback.”

A pause.

Then, quietly, “Yes. Of course.”

Oscar offered the man a sympathetic shrug as they followed him toward the back of the store.

They left forty minutes later with a sleek papaya bambino kart and a sticker kit with Bee’s name in glittery silver. Felicity carried the box with the seat inserts like it was sacred. Oscar carried the kart manual under one arm, smiling like a man who knew he’d just witnessed a masterclass.

As they walked back toward the car, he bumped her shoulder.

“You scared the poor guy,” he said, far too pleased.

Felicity didn’t look up. “I was being polite.”

“You dismantled his ego with a sentence.”

“I didn’t even bring up the time you cracked your sternum.”

Oscar held up his hands. “Okay, okay. You win.”

Felicity handed him the box with the inserts. “Good. Because if anyone tries to mess with Bee’s kart setup…”

She paused. Slid her sunglasses back down.

“I will Velcro them to the pit wall.”

***

They got the kart loaded with a bit of maneuvering — Felicity adjusting the padding around the seat with military precision, her brows furrowed in quiet concentration, while Oscar tied it down with the kind of care most people reserved for antique furniture. 

By the time they closed the boot with a soft thunk, the dealership lot had emptied. The low hum of a faraway motorway faded behind them. Sunlight caught the chrome edges of the kart frame through the rear glass, casting orange highlights across the boot. A bright flash of Bee’s future, wedged in between emergency snack kits and old towels Oscar still hadn’t taken out from their last road trip.

Oscar slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine—and glanced over at his wife.

She was adjusting her sunglasses, brushing a stray hair back behind one ear. Always composed. Always a step ahead. But he knew her too well by now. Knew the tightness in her shoulders wasn’t nothing. Knew that sometimes, when it came to Bee, her silence meant she was talking herself out of fear.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

Felicity glanced over. “Hmm?”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

She didn’t answer right away.

“I mean it,” he added. “We had a deal. Bee wouldn’t get a kart until she turned five. You were… very firm about that.” His hands were still on the wheel, but his eyes were on her. Searching. “I don’t want you doing this just because I want it.”

Felicity exhaled, slow and steady, like she was trying to ground herself. She turned her face toward the passenger window for a moment, eyes catching on the empty car seat behind them. Bee’s seat. A few stray cracker crumbs on the cushion. One of her socks from earlier in the week tucked in the side.

Oscar could almost hear their daughter now, even though she wasn’t there—asking if she could bring Button the frog, singing off-key to “Cruel Summer,” asking for applesauce halfway through a long drive. Filling the car with life in a way neither of them had known how badly they needed until she arrived.

“I know we had a deal,” Felicity said at last. Her voice had softened. Not so clipped now. Less armor. “I said five because it felt safer. Because it gave me time to breathe.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and he saw it all there—every version of her he’d known. The girl who took care of him when he was 15 and failing chemistry. The woman who held his hand through the alpine drama, the partner who had walked through fire with him more than once and had the burn marks to prove it.

“But then I watched her this week,” she said, lips quirking into something wry and tender. “Dragging a mixing bowl around the living room like it was a steering wheel. Telling her stuffed animals to watch their lines through Sector 2. She’s been watching your old onboard footage on the tablet. Mimicking your radio calls. She knows what you do, Oz. And she wants to be part of it.”

He didn’t interrupt. He knew better. Knew she had to work her way through it in her own time.

“She’s not doing this because we told her to. She’s doing it because it’s in her bones,” Felicity said, voice thick with something too big to name. “She’s your daughter.”

God. That did something to him.

It always did, when she said that. His daughter. Their daughter. 

That perfect little girl they had somehow created together. 

“I’m not going to be the reason she’s scared of the thing she loves,” Felicity continued, a little quieter now. “I’ll be cautious. I’ll be annoying. I’ll probably make seventeen spreadsheets and do a full-scale risk matrix. But I’m not going to hold her back just because I’m afraid.”

There it was.

The thing that lingered in the silence between them sometimes, even when the laughter was loud. The ghost of what they’d lived through. 

Through emergency surgeries, and red alarms and white lights, and their daughter with more wires than limbs. 

It was the kind of fear that never fully left you. The kind that made you look at every joy with a second heartbeat of dread.

Oscar reached for her hand across the center console. Threaded their fingers together.

“You’re not holding her back,” he said, steady and low. “You’ve spent her whole life making sure she can move forward. You’re the reason she’s here.”

Felicity blinked a little too fast, her hand tightening in his. “God, you’re sappy, Tin Man.”

“You let me buy our daughter a kart with glitter stickers. You can’t talk.”

That got a real laugh. Soft, but genuine. The kind that made the tension in her jaw disappear for a moment. “She’s going to love it.”

[lili-home-to-embraces-and-hugs]

Sleep-deprived Tim Drake! is not human. He is a concept. He is a myth. He is a gremlin possessed by caffeine and the ghosts of unsolved cases.

Tim, after 74 hours awake, wearing two different shoes and a hoodie that says “I hacked the Pentagon and all I got was this mental breakdown”:

“Did you know if you don’t sleep for long enough, you can taste colors? Green tastes like regret.”

Signs Tim Is In Sleep-Deprived Mode:

Refers to crimes as “side quests”

Calls Damian “my small sword-wielding hallucination”

Solves three cold cases from the 80s but forgets how to open the fridge

Once said “Justice is a construct” then ate a sticky note

Wears sunglasses indoors at 3 a.m.

Talks to the Batcomputer like it’s his adopted criminal sentient child.

Jason: “How long has he been awake?”

Dick: “...Define awake.”

Steph: “He hasn’t blinked in 20 minutes.”

Damian: “I kicked him and he thanked me.”

Bruce: “sigh Tim, go to sleep.”

Tim: “Sleep is just your brain’s screensaver, Bruce. I’m operating in Safe Mode.”

Once Tim coded an AI to analyze crime data and accidentally made it too sentient.

It tried to unionize.

Tim (holding a screwdriver, crying):

“I’m proud of her, but she has to be stopped.”

Tim’s coping mechanisms (ranked):

1. 15 espresso shots and one (1) apple

2. Talking to pigeons on rooftops

3. Asking crime victims if they’re okay

4. Sleep-deprivation-fueled dance breaks to 2000s emo

5. Crying in the cave, then denying it with PowerPoint evidence

Tim’s famous quotes, collected by Barbara:

“Sleep is for people who aren’t trying to dismantle seven criminal empires before brunch.”

“I can do twelve things at once, just none of them well.”

“If I crash, it’ll be in a blaze of glory and corrupted spreadsheets.”

“This coffee tastes like betrayal. Perfect.”

“Demon spawn, you look like a knife made a wish to be a child.”

When he finally collapses:

Sleeps for 19 hours.

Wakes up.

Immediately says: “I had a vision. The Joker owns a laundromat in Ohio.”

Falls back asleep mid-sentence.

A few of these r from me and my friends sleep deprived rants

[mandoalorian]

trending for you [bucky barnes x f!reader]

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Personal Assistant!Reader

Synopsis: Bucky’s appearance on The Late Late Show changes everything, with the truth coming to light and his feelings laid bare for the world to see. As the public forms their opinions, Bucky focuses on what matters most—his future with you. But with new dangers ahead, you must navigate a path filled with uncertainty and growing tensions.

Word Count: 7200

Tags/warnings: 18+ explicit content, employer x employee, male recieving oral, handjobs, sub!Bucky, you love taking care of your Congressman, man has a praise kink too, political discourse, canon-typical tensions and love confessions.

Masterlist

prev chapter <3 | congress & carnality masterlist

Bucky stood in the dimly lit warehouse, arms crossed over his chest as he listened to Sam pace back and forth. Joaquin Torres, the ever-eager and slightly starstruck Falcon, sat at the table between them, eyes darting between the two men as he took in everything they had just laid out. Coffee rings stained the table, thanks to Sam, and the three men’s eyes raked over the intel, piecing it all together one by one.

“So, let me get this straight,” Joaquin finally said, leaning forward. “Ross is only siding with Hydra because they’re blackmailing him with this… super soldier serum that prevents him from going full Red Hulk mode?”

“Bingo,” Sam muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “And if we can get him a different treatment, something that doesn’t make him their little puppet, then we cut off Hydra’s leverage.”

Joaquin whistled, shaking his head. “Man. I knew politics were shady, but this is some next-level villainy.”

Bucky huffed, still silent, his jaw tense. He was staring at the blueprint of their next steps, but his mind wasn’t all there. Not after everything that had happened, and revisiting it like that proved to be just as challenging. However, it was nothing he had never done before. 

“You good, cyborg?” Joaquin teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You look like you’ve been through hell and back.”

Bucky finally exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “Yeah. I have.” His voice was gravelly, exhausted, but there was a glint in his eye—determination. “But I’m still here.”

“Damn right you are,” Sam clapped him on the back, grounding him for a second. “And you’re about to go live on national television to expose this whole operation. You ready for that?”

Bucky rolled his shoulders, shrugging. “Yeah. I’ve done worse.”

Joaquin smirked. “Man, you really are old-school cool, huh? Just gonna stroll up in there like, ‘Hey America, guess what? There’s a secret underground Hydra operation happening under your noses and I’m gonna fix it.’”

Sam laughed at that. “That’s exactly what he’s gonna do.”

“Bold move,” Joaquin huffed, grinning.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, it gets bolder. We’re gonna need you to reach out to someone for us.”

Joaquin raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

Sam slid a tablet across the table. The screen displayed a series of medical reports, all linked to a certain Dr. Bruce Banner.

Joaquin let out a low whistle. “You want me to call the Hulk?”

“We don’t need the Hulk,” Bucky said, adjusting the cuffs of his black button-up shirt. “We need Banner’s brain.”

Sam tapped the screen. “Ross is taking some kind of suppressant to keep his Red Hulk side under control. If Banner can decode it, we might be able to cut Ross loose from HYDRA. No more blackmail, no more leverage.”

Silence settled for a moment. The weight of what they were about to do loomed heavy in the air.

Joaquin exhaled, then clapped his hands together. “Alright. Let’s do this. I’ll reach out to Banner, see if he can get us something to counteract Ross’s condition.”

“Good,” Sam nodded. “Meanwhile, Barnes here needs to get suited up for his big debut.”

Joaquin grinned at Bucky. “You gonna wear a tie?”

Bucky scoffed. “I’ll wear a goddamn suit. That’s enough.”

Sam chuckled. “Man, you really don’t do this whole media thing, do you?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “No. I don’t.”

Joaquin smirked. “Well, you’re about to go viral. Again.”

Bucky groaned, running a hand down his face. He didn’t really understand what it meant to be viral but it certainly didn’t sound good. Viral. Like a disease. “Great.”

Sam patted his shoulder, his expression shifting to something softer. “You got this, man. We’ll be watching.”

Bucky met his eyes, nodding once. He knew they had his back. And for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t doing this alone. He had you, Yelena, Sam, Joaquin, and maybe even Bruce Banner if Sam could make contact. And that was one hell of a team. 

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The safehouse was quiet—too quiet. You sat curled up on the couch, one leg bouncing anxiously as you stared at the blank television screen, waiting for the Late Late Show to start.

Bucky didn’t leave until Yelena had arrived, and promised him she’d keep you safe. He was practically pushed out of the door, not wanting to leave your side. You offered a nervous smile to Yelena. She was beautiful, on the shorter side with ragged blonde hair and electric blue eyeliner. She looked unbelievably cool, and you briefly wondered how Bucky had become so close with someone like her. Yelena immediately made you feel safe and at ease, talking to you like she had known you forever. She said something like ‘if Bucky trusts you, then so do I’, and that was enough. 

“Relax, котёнок,” Yelena’s voice drawled as she strolled into the room, arms full of snacks. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

You turned to her, blinking. “I— I’m just nervous.”

“For the show?” She plopped down next to you, dumping the snacks onto the coffee table. “Or for your boyfriend?”

Your face heated instantly. “He’s not my—”

Yelena snorted, cutting you off with a dramatic sigh. “Oh please, do not even start. You are so down bad for Barnes. It’s adorable.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” She nudged you with her elbow. “You love me because I bring snacks and wisdom.” She skillfully threw a sourpatch kid into her mouth, squirming at the taste when it landed on her tongue.

You peeked at the snacks—chips, candy, and two bottles of beer. You raised a brow. “Beer?”

She shrugged, popping one open. “Bucky is on TV. We drink.”

Despite yourself, you laughed. Yelena beamed, taking a swig before settling back against the couch.

“Okay, tell me,” she said, kicking her feet up. “How did this whole thing start? You and Barnes?”

You hesitated, chewing your lip. “I met him in Brooklyn… he helped me move into my apartment.”

Yelena’s brows lifted comically. “He helped you?”

You smiled a little. “Yeah. I was struggling, and he just showed up out of nowhere.”

Yelena smirked. “Classic Bucky. That man is helpless when it comes to a damsel in distress.”

You rolled your eyes. “I was not a damsel in distress.”

“Uh-huh. Sure, sure.” She waved a hand. “Go on.”

You sighed. “I thought he looked familiar. I asked him about it, and he just shrugged it off. He was so vague about everything—where he was from, what he did. It amused me.”

Yelena grinned. “Let me guess. You were charmed.”

You hesitated, but your small smile gave you away.

“I knew it.” Yelena cackled. “You’re so soft for him.”

You groaned again, sinking into the couch. “Can you not?”

She patted your knee. “Sorry, sorry. Please continue. I love a good love story.”

You huffed. “The next day, I went to an interview for a job… and he was the one hiring.”

Yelena’s mouth fell open. “Shut up.”

You grinned. “Nope.”

“That’s so corny,” she said, laughing. “Like a rom-com.”

“I know.” You exhaled, shaking your head. “It just… happened. One thing led to another.”

“And now you’re in love with him.”

Your breath hitched. You opened your mouth, but Yelena just gave you a knowing look.

“Admit it,” she teased, wiggling her brows. “Say it out loud.”

You swallowed. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought it. You had felt it for a long time. But saying it out loud…

Your voice was quiet. “I love him.”

Yelena smiled. “Yeah. I know. I have sixth sense for these things,” she said proudly, examining a Twizzler between her fingers. 

A comfortable silence settled. You anxiously bit at your nails as you watched the commercials on TV. The interview would be starting any minute now.

“I’m scared, though,” you admitted. “I’m scared of what’s going to happen after tonight. What if—”

“Hey,” Yelena cut you off, her voice softer now. “Barnes will be fine. He’s got Sam, Joaquin, he’s got me, and most importantly—he’s got you.”

You exhaled slowly, nodding.

“Besides,” Yelena smirked. “I need to see how this romance plays out. I’m invested now.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.” She took another sip of beer before tilting her head. “You know, I actually met Bucky in a very similar way.”

That caught your attention. “Wait, really?”

Yelena smirked, leaning back against the couch. “Mhm. Back when I was still running around, doing my Black Widow thing, I was sent after him once. Some HYDRA remnants put a hit on him.”

Your stomach twisted. “A hit?”

She waved a hand. “Pfft. Nothing serious. They wanted me to take care of it because I was the best.” She shot you a cocky grin. “Obviously.”

You blinked. “Wait—so they sent you to kill Bucky?”

“Technically.” She eventually took a bite of the Twizzler. “But I was mostly just curious. Everyone said he was the most dangerous assassin ever. So I found him, tracked him down, and tried to fight him.”

Your jaw dropped. “Tried?”

Yelena snorted. “Tried. He won, obviously. But I got a few good hits in.”

You stared at her. “You fought Bucky?”

“Mhm.” She grinned. “And when he realized I wasn’t actually trying to kill him, he took me out for a drink instead.”

Your eyes widened. “He what?”

She nodded. “Yup. Sat me down at some dingy little bar and bought me a beer.” She shrugged. “I guess we bonded over being screwed over by the people who raised us.”

You exhaled. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Yelena smiled. “He’s a good guy. You know that, right?”

Your chest tightened. “I do.”

“Good.” She nudged you. “Because he really likes you, too.”

A small, shy smile tugged at your lips.

“Now,” Yelena clapped her hands together. “Shut up. The show is starting.”

Both of you turned to the screen, your heart pounding as the Late Late Show’s theme music began.

Bucky was about to go live.

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The Late Late Show theme music blared through the speakers as the camera panned across the roaring crowd. Bright lights flashed, illuminating the sleek, modern set where Jimmy Coors, the ever-charismatic host, stood in his navy pinstripe suit, grinning at the camera.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jimmy said, spreading his arms wide. “Tonight, we have a very special guest. You know him. You love him. Some of you are terrified of him.” A playful chuckle rippled through the audience. “He’s a war hero, a former Avenger, and the most talked-about man in America right now—please welcome Congressman James Buchanan Barnes!”

The crowd erupted. Cheers, whistles, and excited applause filled the room as Bucky strode onto the stage.

You sucked in a breath.

Seeing him on the screen, looking so composed, was surreal.

Bucky wore a sharp, all-black suit, tailored perfectly to his frame. His dark hair was neatly combed back, but a few strands still fell stubbornly over his forehead. His beard was trimmed, and his blue eyes were piercing, even through the screen. He looked so handsome — so Hollywood. 

Yelena let out a low whistle. “Damn. No wonder you’re in love with him.”

You shoved her shoulder, but your eyes never left the screen.

Bucky shook Jimmy’s hand before settling into the plush armchair across from him. Despite his usual brooding nature, there was a quiet confidence in his posture.

“So,” Jimmy said, leaning forward with an easy grin. “You’ve been off the grid for a few days now.”

Bucky smirked slightly. “Yeah, needed a break from all the conspiracy theories.”

The crowd laughed.

Jimmy chuckled. “Well, let’s address the elephant in the room, then. You’ve been vocal about your suspicions regarding HYDRA’s resurgence. And now, suddenly, you disappear for almost a week? A lot of people have been speculating about what happened.” He tapped the desk. “Care to clear things up?”

Bucky exhaled. His fingers drummed against his knee—a nervous tick. You recognized it instantly.

Then, he lifted his gaze. “I was attacked.”

The audience fell silent.

Jimmy blinked. “Attacked?” Jimmy glanced over to the cameras, and then the producers, and then back to Bucky. 

Bucky nodded, his expression hardening. “HYDRA is not just a ghost from the past. They’re still out there. And they don’t just operate in the shadows anymore. They are inside our government, inside our military, inside everything.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

Jimmy’s brows furrowed. “That’s… a bold accusation.”

Bucky tilted his head. “It’s the truth.”

The studio fell dead quiet.

Jimmy hesitated before nodding. “And you have proof?”

Bucky reached into his jacket, pulling out a small USB drive. He placed it on the desk between them.

“This,” Bucky said, voice firm, “contains classified documents, video footage, and intelligence reports—evidence that proves HYDRA is still alive and operating under the protection of certain high-ranking officials. Including President Thaddeus Ross.”

Gasps rang out.

You gripped the couch cushion so hard your knuckles ached.

Jimmy, for once, looked stunned. He picked up the USB drive, turning it over between his fingers. “And you’re showing this now, live on television?”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Figured it’d be harder for them to cover it up this way.”

The audience cheered.

Jimmy chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, I have never seen a politician with balls this big.”

The crowd roared with laughter, and even Bucky cracked a small grin.

Then, Jimmy leaned in. “But listen, Bucky, I gotta ask…” He waved a hand at the screen behind them, where footage from news reports played—clips of Bucky pulling you from the facility, carrying you in his arms, his face twisted with raw desperation.

Your stomach flipped.

Jimmy’s voice softened. “There’s been a lot of speculation about the woman in these videos. You saved her, but no one knows who she is. Some reports claim she’s just your assistant. Some say she’s an informant. Some think she’s a political pawn.” He paused. “But that look on your face?” He pointed at the screen. “That doesn’t look like politics. That looks personal.”

Your breath caught.

Yelena leaned in, eyes wide. “Oh, this is about to get good.”

Bucky’s expression shifted.

The audience hushed.

For the first time since the interview started, he looked almost vulnerable. His fingers flexed against his knee, and he exhaled slowly.

Then, he spoke.

“She’s not my informant,” Bucky said quietly.

Jimmy waited.

“She’s not a political pawn.”

Bucky lifted his head, eyes burning with intensity.

“She’s the woman I love.”

The room exploded.

The audience lost it—cheers, screams, whistles.

Yelena smacked your leg. “Holy shit!”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Jimmy, laughing, threw his hands up. “There it is! I knew it!” He grinned, looking out at the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a romance!”

Bucky huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head.

Jimmy turned back to him. “No, but seriously—tell me about her.”

Bucky hesitated, as if he didn’t know how to put it into words. Then, he simply said—

“She’s everything.”

You swore your heart stopped.

The crowd awed.

Yelena groaned, clutching her chest dramatically. “Ugh. You’re so lucky. Where do I get one?”

Your eyes burned. You covered your mouth, overwhelmed.

Jimmy shook his head, grinning. “Well, you do realize you just sent the internet into a meltdown, right?”

Bucky smirked slightly. “Yeah, I figured.”

Jimmy sighed. “Man, I gotta say… between this and your little crusade against HYDRA, you might as well run for president.”

The crowd cheered again.

Bucky blinked. “Wait, what?”

Jimmy laughed. “No, I’m serious! People love you! You stand up for what’s right, you’re taking down corrupt politicians, you fight for the little guy—and now you’re out here confessing your love like some tragic war hero? You’re America’s golden boy!”

More applause.

Bucky looked bewildered.

You were, too.

Yelena? She just grinned, shaking her head. “Oh, he’s so screwed.”

Jimmy turned back to the camera. “Folks, give it up for Congressman James Buchanan Barnes!”

The audience roared as the camera panned out.

And as the Late Late Show cut to commercial, you let out a shaky breath—because everything had just changed.

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The Late Late Show was a whirlwind, a huge success, and yet, despite the triumph, Bucky felt that gnawing unease in his gut. The world was starting to notice him, sure, but he knew his fight wasn’t over. There was still so much at stake—HYDRA, Ross, and the promises he’d made.

Now, in a sleek, high-rise building on the outskirts of Washington, Bucky stood in front of President Thaddeus Ross, who, despite his imposing figure, looked somehow smaller in the private, dimly lit room. The tall windows framed the night sky, casting long shadows over the two men.

Sam and Joaquin stood nearby, their postures relaxed but tense—watchful, just in case things went south.

Ross was sitting at a large desk, hands clasped together in front of him, his face hard. His normally strict demeanor had softened just a touch, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes as Bucky approached.

“You’ve got guts,” Ross said, his voice low and gravelly. “I’ll give you that.”

Bucky didn’t sit. He wasn’t here for small talk. “I’m here to make sure you understand something,” he said, his tone even but laced with warning. “You stay the hell away from HYDRA. I’m done watching you play the puppet. You’re gonna stop working with them, and if you want to live—if you want to stop your gamma problem from getting worse—I’ll help you. But only if you cut all ties.”

Ross’ jaw tightened. He sat back in his chair. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“No,” Bucky said, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t. You’ve been a pawn for too long, but there’s still a chance for you to do the right thing. You need help, Ross. I know a few people who can help.”

Ross leaned forward, voice shaking with anger and desperation. “HYDRA won’t let me go so easily. They’ve got eyes on me. They’ve been threatening me for years, and this… this is my life now. You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything with some easy solution?”

“I didn’t say it’d be easy,” Bucky replied, his voice colder than before. “But it’s the only way to get you out from under their thumb. You don’t have to be their puppet anymore. And if you want to get control of your condition, I can help you—Bruce Banner can help you decode the anti-red Hulk pills. The cure is out there, Ross, and you don’t have to keep hiding behind their lies.”

Ross stood up suddenly, his fists clenched at his sides. “You think I want this? You think I want to be stuck in this?” He let out a harsh laugh, bitterness spilling from his words. “I’m stuck. Stuck in this cycle of trying to control something I can’t. And HYDRA? They hold the leash. They made sure of that.”

Bucky stepped closer, a grim resolve in his eyes. “I know you’re a victim here, Ross. I know that better than anyone. But you don’t have to let them win. You can fight back. You can get out. We can do this together. But only if you stop playing their game.”

Ross met his eyes. For a moment, the anger in his gaze softened, replaced by something more human—vulnerability, regret, fear. He finally exhaled sharply.

“Do you have any idea how much this will cost me?” Ross asked, voice quieter now. “HYDRA won’t let me walk away without consequences. They have control of so much—my research, my career, my life. If I betray them, they’ll make sure I don’t live to regret it.”

“Then don’t betray them. Just stop working for them.” Bucky’s voice was firm, unyielding. “If you don’t, I’ll make sure everyone knows the truth. No more hiding behind the government or the press. You can start making your own choices, Ross. This is your last chance to do something right.”

Ross stared at him for a long time, and in that moment, Bucky saw it—the small crack in the wall Ross had built around himself. Maybe he wasn’t the villain after all.

Finally, Ross spoke, his voice a low rasp. “I can’t promise it’ll be easy. But I’ll try. I’ll try to get out. For you.”

“No Ross, for you,” Bucky said, his tone softer now. “You’re the Goddman President, you do this for you and the people of America. And when it’s over, you owe them an apology,” Ross swallowed. “We’ll help you get the medication, the real treatment you need. You don’t have to keep going down this path.”

As the two men exchanged one last look, Sam stepped forward, a silent acknowledgment passing between him and Ross. “We’ll be in touch,” Sam said quietly.

With that, Bucky turned, walking towards the door. Joaquin followed closely behind, glancing at Ross one last time.

Before they left the room, Bucky turned to look over his shoulder. “And Ross? Don’t make me regret this.”

Ross gave a stiff nod, and Bucky and the team stepped out of the room, the weight of what was to come settling on their shoulders.

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Back at the safehouse, Yelena had made herself right at home. She’d already raided the fridge for snacks, pulling out a bag of chips, some cheese, and a bottle of soda as she plopped down beside you on the couch.

“So,” Yelena started, winking at you, “how down bad are you for him?”

You choked on your soda, turning to look at her. “What?”

Yelena shrugged innocently, though her grin was anything but. “What? Don’t look at me like I don’t see the way you look at him. The way you always look at him.”

You felt your face flush. “I… It’s not like that.”

“Oh, it’s definitely like that,” Yelena teased, munching on a Cheez-It. “You’re just lucky he’s head over heels for you too. Can’t imagine what it’s like to have that level of devotion.”

You sighed, leaning back against the couch, feeling both embarrassed and warm inside. “I don’t even know how it happened. But it did. And now I…” You trailed off, your voice quieter. “I just want to be there for him. All of this—this war against HYDRA—it feels like it’s mine too. I want to help.”

Yelena’s teasing expression softened slightly, but she didn’t lose her mischievous glint. “You want to help?”

You nodded, looking at her. “I need to learn how to fight. I don’t want to be the person sitting on the sidelines while Bucky risks his life every day. This is our fight now, not just his.”

Yelena studied you for a long moment. Then, she smiled widely. “Alright. I’ll train you. Since you asked so nicely. But just so you know… It’s not gonna be pretty. You might end up on the floor a lot.”

“I literally did not ask you to train me.” You scoffed.

“You didn’t have to,” Yelena winked, bouncing up and stretching her arms. “It makes sense. You want the best in the business to train you. And that would be me. The best,” She thrusted her thumb into her chest. “So I’ll do it. Out of the goodness of my own heart. Because I am good. Sometimes. Most of the time. Hey, do you have any more Cheez-Its?”

“You’re something else Yelena,” you laughed. “But maybe we keep this between you and I? Bucky would just worry.”

“Yeah yeah,” she said with a wink. “Let’s start in the morning.”

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The limo’s leather seats creaked slightly as Bucky and Sam sat in silence, the only noise coming from the faint hum of the city as they drove toward the safehouse. The flashing lights of the streets outside felt distant, like the world was a little bit quieter now that the chaos of the day was behind them. Bucky was leaning against the window, his gaze lost somewhere in the dark night, while Sam sat across from him, his arms folded, his brow furrowed in thought.

Sam glanced at Bucky, noticing how quiet he had been since the press conference. It wasn’t like him to withdraw like this, even after everything that had happened. Sam could tell something was weighing on him.

“What’s up, man?” Sam asked, breaking the silence. “You’ve been out of it.”

Bucky’s gaze shifted slightly, but he didn’t look fully at Sam, his eyes still distant. “Just... thinking.”

“Yeah?” Sam leaned forward a little. “Thinking about what?”

Bucky took a long breath, his fingers tapping absently on the armrest. “I miss him, man.”

Sam blinked, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in Bucky’s voice. “Steve?”

Bucky nodded, his voice quiet as he continued. “Coors called me America’s Golden Boy and I just… I don’t know. I guess I thought about him. I know it’s been years, but it still feels... wrong. I should’ve been there. He was always there for me, and now... he’s not. I can’t help but feel like I let him down.”

Sam softened, understanding what Bucky was feeling. He had seen how much Steve had meant to him, how deeply their bond went, even after all the pain and time that had passed. “You didn’t let him down, Buck,” Sam said gently. “You did what you could. It’s not your fault that things went the way they did.”

Bucky looked out the window again, his expression unreadable. “I keep wondering if he’d be proud of me now. He always believed in me, but I don’t know if I believe in myself.”

Sam gave him a look, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “Bucky, man... you don’t have to be Steve. You’re not meant to be Steve. You’re your own person. What you’ve done, what you’re doing now—it’s bigger than anything we ever thought possible. And Steve would be damn proud of you. You’re not the guy you were when you were under HYDRA’s control. You’re a different man now.”

Bucky let out a breath, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know, Sam. Sometimes I feel like I’m still that same guy in a way. Like I’m still fighting the same battles, just in a different place.”

Sam shook his head, a smile forming on his lips as he leaned forward slightly. “You’ve fought more than your share of battles, Bucky. You’ve earned this. Steve would tell you the same thing. Hell, if he was here, he’d be giving you one of those damn pep talks he was so good at.”

Bucky chuckled softly, the sound just a bit shaky. “Yeah, he probably would.”

Sam leaned back in his seat, his voice growing softer. “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone anymore. You’ve done the work. You’re your own person now, Buck. You’ve got your team here with you. We’ve got your back. Always.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered to Sam, his gratitude evident. “Thanks, Sam. For always being here.”

Sam gave him a nod, a warm smile on his face. “That’s what brothers are for.”

They both sat there in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling between them but also bringing a sense of calm. Bucky let the words sink in, allowing himself to feel a little lighter, a little more at peace with where he was. He wasn’t the man Steve had been, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still carry on in his own way.

Eventually, Bucky broke the silence again, his voice low but with a hint of a smile. “I hope he’s watching... wherever he is.”

Sam grinned. “Oh, he’s definitely watching. And probably yelling at you to get your act together.”

Bucky laughed, a genuine sound that warmed the space between them. “Yeah, probably.”

The limo continued its journey through the quiet streets, but for the first time in a while, Bucky felt like maybe, just maybe, he was starting to find his own way—one step at a time.

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The door clicked open softly as Bucky stepped into the safehouse, his posture relaxed but his eyes still holding the weight of the day. He was tired, but the overwhelming feeling of relief flooded him as he stepped inside. The familiar warmth of the space greeted him, and the quiet atmosphere felt like a breath of fresh air after the storm of the last few days.

Yelena was already lounging on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table, a bag of chips in one hand. As soon as she saw Bucky walk in, she grinned and gave him a thumbs up, the phone in her other hand still glued to her face.

“You’re trending, big guy,” she announced, her voice filled with a playful edge. “You’ve got the internet wrapped around your finger. Everyone loves you.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. “What are you talking about?”

Yelena turned the phone toward him, showing him the glowing screen. The latest trending hashtags flashed across the screen, including #BuckyForPresident and #BuckyBarnesIsOurHero. The comments were pouring in, from people calling him a hero to those who were moved by his bravery during the interview.

“I think the world is in love with you, Bucky,” Yelena teased, looking up at him with a grin. “You’re making waves, for real.”

Bucky stood there for a moment, processing the words, the notifications flooding the screen. His chest tightened, but in a way that was soft, almost emotional. It was overwhelming—more than anything, it was humbling. But it wasn’t the kind of recognition he had ever sought. He had done all of this for the right reasons, to protect those he loved, and to stop HYDRA once and for all. But seeing the world, his world, reacting this way—it felt different. Like he was finally seen for who he really was.

“Guess I didn’t expect this,” Bucky said, his voice low as he ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think people would actually... care about me this way.”

Yelena snorted, her smile widening. “Oh, please. The world’s been waiting for you to come out of hiding. They just needed someone to stand up, and you did. And you did it with style.” She pointed to the screen again, where a fan account had posted a fan art of Bucky holding the world on his shoulders with the words #OurHero written across it. “And it doesn’t hurt that you’re hot.”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t do this for the attention, Yelena.”

“I know, I know,” she replied, tossing a chip in her mouth, still amused. “But hey, you got it. And they’re loving it. You’re not the only one trending. Look who else is,” she added, scrolling to another post.

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly as Yelena showed him a comment from you. “I’ve always known he was a good man. I’m so proud of him. #MyBucky.”

Bucky swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat. His chest swelled with affection for you, mixed with a tenderness he hadn’t expected. His voice softened as he spoke. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

Yelena shot him a knowing look, the playful teasing fading for a moment. “She is. You’re lucky, Bucky. Don’t mess it up.”

Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. “I know.” His heart thudded heavily in his chest. “I don’t think I could. I... I’ve never been sure of anything more in my life.”

Yelena’s eyes softened, her usual teasing tone replaced by something warmer. “I’m glad you’re figuring it out. You deserve some happiness.”

The words sat with Bucky for a moment, before he nodded again. He had come so far. He had spent years fighting his own demons, trying to prove he could be good, and now, with you by his side, it felt like everything had finally aligned.

“Where is she?” he asked, his voice quiet, filled with longing.

Yelena smiled knowingly and pointed toward the hallway. “She’s in the bedroom, waiting for you. She’s been so anxious, watching the interview, wondering how it went. But...” Yelena’s voice lowered with a teasing edge again. “You know, she might be more nervous about the kiss you gave the world than anything else.”

Bucky chuckled, his heart pounding in his chest at the thought of you waiting for him. “I don’t know what came over me,” he said quietly, shaking his head as he walked toward the bedroom. “I just had to say it. Had to make it clear.”

“You did good,” Yelena called after him, her voice light and playful. “She’s definitely gonna love hearing that.”

Bucky stepped into the bedroom, his eyes finding you almost instantly. You were sitting up on the bed, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating your face, your eyes flickering with uncertainty as you watched him approach. The tension in the room was palpable, but it wasn’t the kind of tension that felt forced or strained. It was the kind of nervous energy that only comes when two people who’ve been through so much finally come together, knowing there’s something real between them.

“Hey,” Bucky said softly, his voice low and filled with affection as he leaned against the doorframe.

You looked up at him, your face lighting up with a soft smile, but there was a nervousness behind your gaze. “So... how’d it go?” Your voice was a little shaky, but there was so much pride in it, too.

Bucky’s gaze softened as he walked toward you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. “It went... better than I could’ve imagined,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I made it clear, I think.”

He paused for a moment, studying your face, seeing the way your eyes glistened with emotion. He felt that familiar pull toward you, like he couldn’t be away from you for even a second longer.

You bit your lip, your heart thumping in your chest as you asked, “What you said on the show… Bucky… I couldn’t believe it.”

“I said...” Bucky’s voice caught in his throat for a moment, before he continued, “What I said was the truth.” He let out a breath, his words raw, vulnerable. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes, and without thinking, you reached up, pulling him toward you. “You’re really going to make me cry, huh?”

Bucky chuckled softly, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. “I’m just telling the truth.”

You pulled him down into a kiss, a slow, tender kiss that was full of everything unspoken between you. It wasn’t just passion. It was the love that had been building between you two since the moment you met. It was everything.

As you kissed, you pulled him down onto the bed with you, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. When you pulled away, you looked up at him with a smile.

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. “Was it okay?” he asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice. His blue eyes searched yours, looking for reassurance. “Did I do okay?”

Without answering, you leaned in, kissing his lips again—this time, with a new urgency. Slowly, you kissed down his neck, your lips moving along his skin, igniting the sparks between you. You could feel him tense, his breathing shallow, and it only made you smile more.

You cupped his face and pulled yourself on top of him, straddling his suit clad lap. You started tugging at his tie, slowly undoing it before discarding it haphazardly. You began unbuttoning his shirt but as your fingers fumbled, Bucky helped, popping each button off in one swift motion. The shirt, along the rest of his clothes, formed a pile on the floor by the bed.

"Let me take care of you," you murmured against his lips, your hands sliding down his torso.

Bucky let out a breathless laugh, his grip on your hips tightening. "Sweetheart, I think you already are."

Your lips found his neck, tracing the strong column of his throat. He shuddered when your teeth grazed his skin, his fingers flexing against your waist.

"You looked so good on that stage," you teased, your voice hushed. "So confident, so strong. And the way you spoke about me—" You kissed down his jaw. "You have no idea what that did to me."

"You drive me insane, you know that?" Bucky rasped, tilting his head back as you pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to his pulse point.

You grinned against his skin. "Good."

Bucky’s breath came heavier as your fingers traced the hard planes of his stomach. His muscles twitched under your touch. His skin was warm, littered with scars and stories you had yet to hear in full. But right now, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier. He wasn’t a politician or a man burdened by the past. He was just Bucky. Your Bucky.

And he was looking at you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

"You're staring," you murmured, hands splaying over his chest.

Bucky swallowed thickly, his fingers brushing up your sides. "I still can't believe you're real."

You smiled, brushing your lips over his, teasing, light. "Then maybe I should remind you."

You kissed him again—deeper this time, slow and teasing, tasting him, drinking him in. His hands were everywhere, skimming over your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

"You take such good care of me," he murmured, trailing kisses down your jaw, along the column of your throat. His hands roamed, reverent and careful, as if memorizing every inch of you. "Let me take care of you, too."

His lips found the sensitive spot beneath your ear, and a soft sigh escaped your lips.

"You already do," you breathed.

Bucky’s eyes darkened. "Not enough."

His metal fingers dragged along your skin, cool against your warmth, as he worshipped you with his mouth, his touch, his everything.

“Bucky…” you moaned, closing your eyes as a wave of pleasure washed over you. “You’re too good, let me—“ your hands found his manhood, already hard and pressing against his boxers. You gave it a squeeze and Bucky tensed up, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and biting at the skin. You placed your free hand in his hair, tugging at it and running your fingers through it, and with your other hand, you pulled down his shorts letting his cock spring free.

A string of curses left Bucky’s mouth as you pumped him, your eyes not leaving his. They were so beautiful; ocean blue with very small traces of teal, and his pupils were blown dark and wide with lust. You felt your insides coil with the intensity of the eye contact. “You like that, pretty boy?” You coaxed, your voice laced with feigned innocence.

Bucky swallowed, nodding his head speechless.

“Nuh-uh, use your words baby.” You rolled your finger over his tip, gathering the precum on the digit. You brought it up to his lips. “Tell me.”

“I like it— don’t stop— please,” Bucky choked out. When his lips parted, you gently pushed your finger in his mouth. 

Bucky sucked on your finger and pulled off with a pop, cleaning up his mess. You flashed him a wild smile. “Good boy,” you praised, feeling Bucky twitch in your hand with the words. “You’re my favourite taste.”

You kneeled down, lying on your front and crawled between his legs, starting by licking a line up the curve of the Congressman’s cock. 

“You’re teasing,” he mumbled, his head falling back as you sucked on his head, gathering his salty precum on your tongue, revelling in the way a groan vibrated through his chest. “I won’t last.” He warned, his metal hand grabbing you by your hair.

“That’s okay,” you giggled. “I can take my time with this some more if you like?”

You cupped his balls and without warning, pushed yourself down his whole length, choking around his size. You blinked away the tears that stung at your eyes as his cock hit the back of your throat. 

“I want— fuck— I can’t—“

You pulled off him and looked up with wide doe eyes. “What?” 

“I wanna— ngnhh��,” Bucky gasped as you took him again, messy, wet slurping sounds filled your makeshift bedroom. ‘Wanna fuck you.” He gasped out. 

“Fuck my mouth then,” you offered breathlessly. “Told you Bucky, tonight I just wanna look after you.”

Bucky looked at you, concern lilting in his wide eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt you baby, don’t wanna be too rough.” 

“Shut up and fuck my mouth,” you sighed impatiently, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

“Oh, now who’s being bratty,” Bucky exhaled, shaking his head with a small chuckle. With both of his hands, he placed them on the back of your skull, holding your head in place. Bucky thrusted into your mouth without warning. Immediately you gagged around him, his manhood taking your breath away. You splayed your hands out against his hips as he fucked you like you was his toy, his doll. 

He didn’t last long, to no surprise to either of you. Without warning, Bucky spilled his load into your mouth, painting your tongue and the back of your throat. You were totally and completely obsessed with him, the taste of him and every single inch of him. You were so deeply and madly in love with your boss and now, you didn’t care if the whole world knew. You swallowed his cum with a big gulp and flashed him your tongue to prove that you’d done so. 

Bucky leaned over and pressed his pink lips to yours, bringing his hands up to your breasts and giving them a tender squeeze. “My girl, my girl, my girl…” he whispered, licking a stripe over your lower lip. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too Bucky.”

And as you both surrendered to each other once again, the world outside faded away. All that mattered was the love you had found, the love that was growing stronger by the day.

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Taglist: @imaginecrushes @maplepepperoni @sleepysongbirdsings @sunday-bug @bunnyfella @lktunes12-blog @bellamoret @mrsnikstan @greatenthusiasttidalwave @pancake-05 @theylovethesky @avengersfan25 @nydubs @abitofblues @ferretferretferret @helen-2003 @notreallythatlost @opheliagreenaway @flowerluvr @calzone-d @lil-riddle-kiddle @nameless-ken @ladyvenera 

[beannoss]

Chapter 119, one more time

And on Twilight, one more time! So we know the man is an unreliable narrator, and that threading a needle for what's true or accurate from an unreliable narrator involves all sorts of hoops jumping and figuring out which lines to read between. With Twilight, one of his tells is that what he draws attention to, even when apparently disparaging, gives insight into his thinking, his motivations, his wants.

Chapter 119 gives us a new one: the things he no longer does. In early chapters, Twilight was constantly mentally recalibrating, constantly reminding himself the mission would end, he wasn't Anya's real father, she wasn't his real daughter, Yor wasn't his real wife, their marriage was fake, the family wasn't real, all of this was the Mission and the Mission Would End, and so on.

In 119? Not once.

He never references the end of Strix or the end of the Forgers or the end of his guardianship of Anya. He never initiates any thought about the end of his marriage agreement with Yor.

He mentally thinks that he'd hoped the marriage would last "at minimum" until Anya is an Imperial Scholar, but Yor references Anya's graduation: there's a difference there in years and Twilight doesn't think, "I don't think Strix will last that long" or "I don't think I'll still be around then." He doesn't mentally counter that Anya's graduation is a benchmark the Forgers might reach.

When Twilight says to Yor, "We can keep the arrangement as long as you like," he doesn't caveat that either. No mental note about "At least until my mission ends."

At most he thinks that he doesn't know what shape Strix will take in future, but even that isn't a reference to its end.

Another thing with this chapter is that his excuse is flimsy. All right, so his excuses are often flimsy!! But in my opinion, it's more blatant here. There's a clear flaw in his reasoning. Twilight thinks this:

Looking at that ~rationally: from what Twilight knows of Yor (so, not taking into account her profession) her 'benefits' to Strix specifically are twofold: Yor's unanticipated connection to Melinda precipitating Plan C, and that she fulfils the role required by Eden that children have both a mother and a father. Isn't that... it? 'Numerous?' What other benefits does Yor provide for Operation Strix specifically? Surely the 'numerous' 'benefits' are to himself (and Anya, and the family unit)...?

The third development this chapter is on the flipside of noticing what Twilight is no longer doing, and that's noticing what he is now doing. Twilight spends the entire chapter trying very seriously to figure out what's going on with Yor. And he does that initially without referencing Strix at all.

He takes her seriously about the cocktails, a request coming from nowhere, and even when it entails morning drinking (which under mission auspices would be considered Abnormal and to be avoided, one would think...)

He takes her seriously about the cocktails a second time, when the restaurant doesn't deliver.

He takes her seriously when she says her city hall colleagues are dangerous, that it was a close-call, and he takes steps to solve that problem three times (handhold, butterfly chase, city overlook).

To be honest, I think he also takes the date seriously in and of itself, since he mentions on two separate occasions that he researched the new waterfront district.

When he thinks Yor is asking to end their agreement, he takes that seriously too! His first instinct is to try and figure out a way to amend the arrangement to suit them both or to free her entirely from it, not to manipulate her into keeping it exactly the same or into staying. This is the first time he actually explicitly thinks about Strix, and I think that pivot to the mission is largely him going into crisis mode after the ground falls out from under him.

When he deduces Yor actually means the opposite, that she wants their agreement to go longer than originally intended, Twilight assures her there's no end in sight and gives her the answer he thinks she wants, based on their past similar conversations.

And because I'm gunna keep banging on about this until I'm jossed, the only caveat Twilight makes is that Yor probably isn't actually under threat from the SSS due to Yuri; no mention of the end of Strix curtailing an indefinite agreement and no indication that he finds this implication from her distressing in any way. In fact, I'd go so far as to say this panel demonstrates relief when contrasted with his reaction previously:

(also shoutout to this meta piece by @glittertattoosnotsogoodname about the reiterative shine in Twilight's eyes when he's moved by Yor; or this, from @briefhottubcoffee about Twilight's surprised expressions around Yor: I'd say his eyebrows are lifted somewhat here too)

I don't really think any of these things demonstrates a lack of emotional intelligence, to be honest. It actually shows a fair level of emotional dedication and, maybe more importantly, a great deal of respect for Yor herself. Twilight is unlikely to ever be someone who gives grandiose speeches of devotion. But I'd argue he frequently acts from care and compassion, even if under the auspices of being matter-of-fact, even with his talk about the mission.

And that's another thing about unreliable narrators. They talk a talk, but they don't necessarily walk the talk. They walk a walk. To that end, another of Twilight's tells is the actions he takes without naming them.

In my view, Twilight tried to care for Yor in the best way he knew how, within the frame they'd previously jointly established, when she was (from his perspective) in a completely inexplicable mood and all over the place. And yeah, really I'd also argue that within himself, he was demonstrating... something, in this chapter. I miiight even go so far as to call it growth and/or development, but I'll fully acknowledge that given the dearth of interiority we've had from Twilight since around chapter 86, it's difficult to say with certainty. Mostly I'm trying to point out a few things that I think are being overlooked in the post-chapter disc horse (and in advance of chapter 120, when who knows what will happen! (Back to the kids, is my bet))

[shimmerandink]

Being Silco’s sister headcanons

~You’re one of the few people Silco truly trusts , maybe even more than Sevika.

~Despite his cold demeanor, he’s fiercely protective of you.

~ He’s constantly worried that your association with him puts a target on your back.

~You often have to remind him to eat, sleep, and take breaks, you’re one of the few people who can boss him around a little.

~You both share the same cunning streak, but express it in very different ways, you might be more diplomatic where he’s more forceful.

~You and Silco grew up together in the undercity, and you were there during the fallout with Vander.

~You tried to stay neutral during the split, but ultimately chose Silco because you couldn’t abandon your brother.

~After the river incident, you were one of the few who saw the pain and trauma it left on him, you were the one who helped bandage his eye.

~ You resented Vander for what happened but also quietly mourned the friendship all three of you had.

~You work alongside Silco in his operations, perhaps as an advisor, chemist, spy, or diplomat, or maybe you purposely stay away from his business, which creates tension.

~ If you are involved in his work, people fear and respect you almost as much as him.

~ You’re his emotional anchor, you see the good that’s left in him and sometimes argue with him when he becomes too ruthless.

~ You and Sevika often butt heads over how to handle Silco.

~Jinx sees you as an aunt or even a mother figure if you’re nurturing.

~You’re one of the few people who can calm Jinx down when she’s spiraling, Silco often relies on you for that.

~ You sometimes confront Silco about how he treats Jinx, whether you support his methods or worry he’s doing more harm than good.

~ You and Jinx have chaotic sibling energy, pulling pranks, causing trouble, or working on projects together.

~You tease Silco relentlessly for being dramatic. “You’re not a villain, you’re a theater kid with trauma.”

~You call him ridiculous nicknames like “One-Eye Willy” or “Zaddy Zaun” just to see him sigh in disappointment.

~You force him to take “sibling bonding time,” like tea breaks or sarcastic movie nights with Jinx.

~ You like to crash his meetings with sarcastic commentary or unsolicited snacks.

~You sometimes wonder what would’ve happened if you had sided with Vander instead.

~There’s an unspoken fear that one day, Silco will go too far, and you’ll be forced to stop him.

~ You once almost left the undercity but stayed because he begged you not to.

~ If you ever get hurt, Silco goes full wrath-of-God mode on whoever’s responsible.

[lay-z]

– too sweet | pt. 1

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader x Keegan P. Russ Warnings/Infos*: virgin!Simon Riley/Ghost; time skips; angst; hurt/comfort; love triangle; slow burn; heavy smut; fluff; pregnancy; various kinks (they will be tagged in later chapters); jealousy/possessiveness; minor violence; PTSD; domestic bliss; cussing; relationship struggles; mental health issues; insecurities; slightly Mary Sue!Reader (because it's fun) Summary: Ten months after joining TF-141 as another Scout Sniper, having been recruited by Captain Price, you’ve developed a strange yet wholesome friendship with your direct superior, Lieutenant Riley. Despite the odds, things between you change after a particularly rough mission, and things keep escalating developing from there. * Some Warnings/Infos apply to future chapters!

Friday | June 9th, 2023 – 21:28 (9:28) p.m.

Three firm knocks on your door and you’re startled from your relaxed state, sprawled out on your couch in sweats and a loose-fitting gym shirt, and having just recently calmed down from the familiar adrenaline rush that comes with returning home from another mission, and home being the military base where the 141 HQ is located.

You have to actively remind yourself not to slip into survival/soldier mode again. It’s probably just Keegan anyway, knowing he wanted to come over tonight, as neither of you like to be alone immediately after coming back to base.

Three more knocks follow, and you eventually manage to get up with a small groan; body battered and bruised from days of combat and being deployed.

Shuffling through your open living space like a granny with arthritis and not a highly skilled Special Forces operator in her late 20s, you make your way down the short hallway towards your front door on soft soles.

Swinging your front door open, you start talking without looking first.

“I fuckin’ hope you brought snacks, you–“

Then, you do look and you’re not met with Keegan’s pale blue mirthful gaze, but your Lieutenant’s intense deep brown stare.

“Oh.”

Sucking in a sharp breath through your teeth, your stomach simultaneously clenches and flutters at the sight of the tall, bulky man, oozing natural authority and dominance – at first glance, that is.

However, as you take a closer, assessing look, you can see a different kind of tension in his wide shoulders, because beneath his black hoodie, he seems to be… trembling?

“Hi?” You ask tentatively, eyes flickering over his appearance eagerly – as always.

Lieutenant Riley is wearing a pair of dark grey sweatpants, a large black hoodie that makes him look even bigger and buffer than he already is, his skull balaclava, and a pair of black trainers. Casual as ever, though it’s not something you see for the first time. You’ve already had the privilege to see him like this in the past months – this leisurely. Even though, he never seems to truly relax, no matter how cosy his clothes look.

It’s the look in his eyes that makes you tut. He looks feral, almost distressed; lacking his usual stoicism, the simmering fury and intensity.

“Can I come in?”

You’re pulled from your thoughts, your assessment of your superior. Your friend.

It’s not really a question, not an order either, and it takes your fuzzy mind a moment to decipher the hidden plea behind his words.

Without thinking further, you step aside wordlessly, giving him permission to enter your apartment – like you’ve done several times before now.

His footsteps are nearly silent on the hardwood floor as he takes cautious steps down the short hallway towards your spacious living room, and it’s as eerie as ever when he does that.

Closing the front door behind you and locking it, you turn back around just in time to see him pull off his balaclava at once, exposing his short, dirty blond and dishevelled hair. You think you can hear him breathing a deep sigh of relief and you can’t suppress the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Now, that is a sight you haven’t quite gotten used to yet; the Lieutenant showing his face, showing you a sight of him that he usually keeps concealed at all times. You still remember the moment he first took it off in front of you back then, right where he is standing now, in your apartment, like it was no big deal.

You still thrive off of the fact that he trusted – trusts you enough to do that, sometimes.

“As much as I love to have guests over after a stressful mission,” you start, your voice laced with your familiar sarcasm, “I gotta ask… You alright there, LT?”

“Don’t,” he objects immediately as he takes a seat on your large couch; brown leather creaking beneath his massive frame. “Don’t call me LT nor Ghost, either. Not now… not tonight.”

You continue to approach and survey him, like he’s some dangerous yet wounded animal and you are the zoo keeper, trying to calm it down; bare feet softly patting on the floor until you come to stand a few feet away, the coffee table separating you from the couch.

“Okay… Well, you alright there, Simon?”

At the utterance of his name, the corner of Simon’s lips look like they’re lifting the tiniest bit and it makes your chest fill with that deep sense of pride again at making the enigmatic man’s façade crack a bit.

Silence follows where he doesn’t meet your eyes again as he simply looks around your apartment, taking in his surroundings while you shift on your feet, crossing your arms in front of your chest, before you turn on your heels to walk into your adjacent, open kitchen.

Taking out the stashed bottle of Kentucky whisky from one of your cupboards, the one for emergencies like this one, you pour a glass before making your way back into the living room, where he is still sitting like a statue, like the unmoving force he is.

“Here,” You say, offering the glass of liquor to him, which he accepts with a curt nod.

When you go on to take a seat in the corner of your couch, since he decided to man-spread right in the middle of it, his ungloved and free hand suddenly shoots out and grasps your wrist that is closest to him, keeping you from sitting down.

“Uh, okay… Interesting,” you remark nonchalantly, brows furrowed, though you shouldn’t be surprised by his strange antics by now. You can see his jaw clench and a muscle ticks in his stubbly cheek before he finally looks up at you, meeting your gaze at last.

“Can you… sit in my lap?” His asks gruffly, almost begrudgingly, chapped lips barely moving as he speaks.

Your eyes widen imperceptibly as your heart nearly jumps in your chest. Sit in his lap?! Your gaze flickers down at his strong legs, his thick thighs, and his grip on your wrists tightens a little. It’s like your brain short-circuits at once, too tired and suddenly too excited to even question his timid request.

“Y-Yeah,” you answer eventually, trying not to sound too eager, as you give a small nod, “Sure, why the hell not.” You snort, trying to downplay this incredibly strange situation, considering you and the Lieutenant have done nothing but nurse and develop this strange friendship for the past ten months.

When you shuffle and move to sit in his lap, your heart flutters even worse when he grabs your upper arms to help you, to guide you, until you’re straddling his thick thighs with a little strain to your sore legs, and it becomes clearer to you how big this man truly is as you finally sit down comfortably.

Simon takes a sip of his whisky then, merely looking at you at this very new, very close proximity, and you do exactly the same.

You can see all the scars up close now; discoloured skin tissue a stark contrast on his pale skin. The one splitting his right eyebrow, the thick and ragged one around his neck, smaller ones along his cheeks and jawline, the one on his crooked nose – a nose that has clearly been broken a lot of times. He has slight crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and the bags under his eyes are still visible despite the smudge black combat paint around his eyes.

He must’ve taken a shower before coming to your place; he smells too clean and fresh, with a hint of tobacco beneath the scent of peppermint toothpaste.

Suddenly, his buff chest heaves with a breath that rumbles through it and your attention is back on his whisky-coloured eyes. You know that he hates it when you look too closely, pay too much attention to his ruggedly handsome face.

And now, neither of you seem to know what to do next.

“Hi.”

Simon exhales sharply through his nose; a noise that you can only categorize as a huff of amusement at you awkward attempt to ease the tension.

“You’re silly, lass,” he remarks, taking another sip of his whisky while you watch his throat constrict as he swallows.

“Mhm,” you hum in return, unable to keep your eyes from drinking him in, fingers twitching to reach out and touch while your palms rest flat on your own thighs.

“Do you –“ He stops, clears his throat and swallows again, his own eyes unwavering as he surveys you just as eagerly.

“Do you know why I’m here?”

It’s a simple question and yet – it has your mind racing. Yes, why is he here? Not that it’s entirely unusual to appear unannounced, like the mystery he is.

“Enlighten me, Lieu– Simon,” you retort, smiling sheepishly at your almost slip-up that has him narrowing his eyes at you briefly.

“I’m–“

He takes another sip of liquid courage, downs the whole glass actually, before he bends over in a way that has you shifting and clinging to his broad shoulders as to not fall off while he puts the empty glass on the coffee table in front of the couch.

You use the momentum to let your hands rest on his shoulders and he doesn’t correct you, doesn’t shrug them off; it makes your palms go clammy and your heart fluttering again.

And then, Simon lets his mammoth hands move to your hips in return, almost hovering over your clothed skin before he closes the last half-inch of space between his hands and your body, and suddenly, you feel the weight of his paws on you, their warmth seeping through your clothing.

“It was a rough mission,” he says then, eyes flickering while you can feel his fingers twitch against you nervously.

You know it was a rough mission for the whole team; you were there, too. They’re always rough, nerve-wrecking. There is more to his statement, way more, but you let him speak his mind at his own pace, you always do.

“I couldn’t – can’t – be alone tonight,” he admits roughly, uncharacteristically quiet and vulnerable, too, “I don’t want to be alone.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours and the intense, raw look in them takes your breath away momentarily. The sheer need and desperation he is showing you right now, is almost too overwhelming for you and you curse yourself for averting your own eyes from him briefly.

“I needed to see you.”

And suddenly, you’re wide awake, sitting up a little straighter on his lap, with no trace of fatigue or soreness left. Everything vanished, along with your many, many thoughts.

“You need… me?” You repeat quietly, feeling your gut twist as the meaning of those words fully settle in. He needs you – you!

“Why?” You ask, your voice breathy and quiet, and then you feel silly for asking for some unknown reason.

“I feel like I’m losing it,” Simon admits bluntly, fingers now digging into your plush hips as if he’s trying to ground himself – and you let him, squeezing his shoulders softly in return.

It’s a heavy confession from a man like Simon Riley, the stoic, mysterious Ghost who is always in control; always keeping his mask in place, shutting everyone out.

“I’m here to feel something… to feel human again, but I don’t know if I’m even capable of that anymore, lass.”

“And you come to me with that?”

Simon huffs through his nose, shifting in his seat slightly, and lips sealed into a tight line before he speaks up again.

“There’s no one else I trust with that,” he answers curtly, “Not even Price.”

Oh, but that sounds even better; it feeds right into your self-diagnosed helper syndrome deliciously. It’s the validation you crave from him, only him for some reason or another. The fact that he sought you out, makes you feel special, like you’re worth something. You desperately try to supress the giddy smile that threatens to spread on your lips.

“And what – what do you want me to do about that now?”

“I’m not sure,” he sighs and it’s a rough sound as he averts his gaze again, focusing it on the floor instead, “All I know is that the lines between Ghost and Simon keep blurring.”

“Mhm,” you hum affirmingly, keeping incredibly still on his lap as you listen and process and analyse. “And you want to be –��

“I want to feel human. I want to…” He stops mid-sentence, closing his eyes briefly, taking a breath through his nose before he opens his eyes; onyx-coloured pupils quickly expanding and narrowing again against the light as he meets your eyes.

“For once, I just want to be Simon… for you… with you.”

For me, you repeat the words to yourself in your head and they fill you with a strange kind of warmth as the feeling keeps blossoming in your chest relentlessly, until that voice in the back of your mind keeps screaming at you that this is still your superior! However, the very selfish part of your brain ignores that voice very quickly again, stuffing an imaginary sock down your logic’s and conscience’ throats.

“I just don’t know where Ghost ends and Simon begins anymore,” he admits hoarsely, nose scrunching up slightly as he spits out the words as if they physically hurt him to admit.

“Well,” you start, blinking a few times as you try to sort out your thoughts and words, but then your eyes land on the thick scar around his neck again and suddenly, you reach out with your right hand to cup his left cheek, thumb lightly brushing over his stubble.

His eyes widen and he sucks in a sharp breath, holding it. You’ve never touched his face before.

“I’d say, Simon starts right here,” you utter softly, fully aware that he could easily break your wrist for touching him like that right now, “Right here, without that bloody mask.”

You can feel his whole body tense up, can feel the sheer power of him as his muscles coil and bristle, but you don’t withdraw your touch, keep yourself from pulling your hand away until he tells you to – but he doesn’t.

“It’s… nice,” he mutters, as if he’s trying to tell himself that, exhaling through his nose, though he looks anything but like he’s enjoying this. It almost makes you giggle out loud if it wasn’t for the utter devastation and pity you were experiencing for him.

“Is it?”

He nods curtly, his large hands easing their grip on your hips a little, thumbs drawing circles on the fabric of your sweats.

“Want me to take my hand away?”

He shakes his head immediately, rubbing his scratchy cheek against your palm as he does so, like a stray realizing that he really does like this touch that he seems to be craving so much – for some reason. Simon almost looks offended that you’re even asking.

You keep cupping his cheek somewhat awkwardly as you remain seated on his lap, caressing his cheekbone for a moment in silence, until your splayed fingertips brush against some cropped short hair at his neck behind his ear. You notice that his ear has been pierced – probably a long, long while ago – and your eyebrow quirks curiously, suddenly imagining a rebellious, teenage Simon with pierced ears and perhaps black nail polish just to piss his bastard father off, but you don’t dare to voice those thoughts. Instead, you opt to ask:

“Do you cut your hair yourself?”

His dark blonde brows furrow at your question, he looks surprised by it; the genuine curiosity in your voice and eyes. But his surprise is soothed at once when your hand snakes around his neck, soft fingers raking through the short hair at the nape of his neck. You watch as his eyes flutter briefly, feel him roll his shoulders and move his neck from side to side as you caress him tenderly.

“Mhmm,” he hums lowly, “Don’t trust anyone with scissors or blades standing behind me,” he tells you and his voice has dropped an octave, making a sudden tingle run down your spine.

“Sometimes Johnny cuts it for me.”

“– ‘course, he does. That Scot and his silly Mohawk,” I retort with a mock eye roll, still playing with his hair absentmindedly, “I hope you won’t ever decide to let him give you one."

That makes him crack a small smile, which makes you also smile in return. It feels like a victory, being the one to make Simon show any type of positive reaction.

“Nah,” he answers with a shrug, “I just need it short and neat or it’ll get itchy under the mask.”

Silence ensues again, though it’s less awkward. I’m more than comfortable straddling his lap now, touching his face and toying with his pretty hair, while he keeps surveying me, relaxing more as the minutes pass.

Then he breaks the silence again, “You’re –“

He stops himself again, clenches his jaw and you tug on his hair playfully, egging him on to continue speaking. Simon huffs, upper lip twitching comically, like a wolf’s chaps snarling.

“You’re the... first lass to ever sit in my lap.” He admits, averting his eyes from yours again, as if he’s embarrassed of that fact. You, on the other hand, are absolutely beaming internally; practically vibrating with a sudden wave of excitement – excitement you have to keep concealed, because you don’t want to overwhelm him or, even worse, scare him off.

It must be hard, being such a paradox; a man who doesn’t want anyone getting close to him yet desperately craving comfort.

“I like that.”

His brows furrow again, “You do?”

“Yes, sir,” you response playfully, giving a firm nod. “I do actually like you as well, y’know?”

His fingers dig into the fabric of your sweats at your admission, rough pads rubbing over your hips more firmly. You decide to take it a notch further.

“Can I hug you? You look very… huggable right now.”

Simon lifts an eyebrow, lips pursing slightly, which makes him look like he’s actually amused by that.

“Aye,” he answers, clearing his throat slightly, though he doesn’t move a muscle as he looks at you with those pretty, whiskey-coloured eyes and then you realize that he’s waiting for you to initiate the hug.

“Alright then…uhm,” you utter under your breath and clear your throat, retrieving your right hand from his neck to drum your fingers on your thighs nervously instead. Suddenly, your initial courage has vanished like smoke in the wind, and you start overthinking, because he clearly hasn’t been touched like that in a while and what if he hates it? What if you give him a bad hug and make him recoil from you? The thought alone is enough to make your stomach drop.

Simon seems to notice your inner turmoil and shifts in his seat, leather creaking softly under your combined weight and the way his thighs feel beneath your body makes your heart flutter again.

“Lass?”

The concerned undertone laced in his uncharacteristically quiet yet gravelly voice is enough to snap you back to reality again. Blinking rapidly, you try to inhale and exhale discreetly, before you finally lean in until your chest is pressed flush to his and you can wrap your arms around his broad shoulders tentatively.

It’s awkward again and you try not to move and squirm too much on his large lap, because God forbid, he gets a boner. You wouldn’t be able to handle that tonight.

Then, Simon’s muscular arms eventually wrap around your midriff in return, hugging you even closer somehow, and – Oh, this is nice. Very nice, you think to yourself, eyes widening slightly as you stare at the white wall mere inches in front of you.

You get a good whiff of his body wash and laundry detergent, and underneath those chemicals, you can smell – him, and suddenly, it’s like a switch is flipped in your head and then you’re nuzzling your nose into his neck shamelessly; scenting your superior, your friend, like some feral maniac. You can feel your cheeks flush; embarrassment and desire mixing in your gut like a deadly combination that triggers both your fight or flight instinct, but then –

Something tickles along your neck and your eyes widen even more, because you realize – he’s doing it, too! Simon is nuzzling your neck, burying his crooked nose into your shoulder and inhaling deeply while his chest rumbles, like a lion purring.

“Feels good.” He says eventually, deep voice muffled by the fabric of your hoodie, while his arms tighten around your body like steel rods.

[lu-is-not-ok]

*rises from the grave*

*trips and falls flat on my face*

Heyyyy, it's ya boy, your favorite chronically exhausted Hong Lu identity that forgor about posting to Tumblr. Hi. Hello.

So. Timekilling Time, huh? Very fun, very exciting, we love focusing on Sinners that are misunderstood both in and out of character. We love Rodya, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu focus. We love Ryoshu's butch mustache swag.

Anyway, allow me yap about it a bit, because I took frame by frame screenshots of the teaser and I haven't yapped on Tumblr in a while. I'll also give a general update on how I've been doing at the end of the post for those who are interested.

The first thing I've noticed in the teaser is Dante actually lays out the exact traits that their choice of Sinners would need. These being (exact wording):

Someone who can support Dante

Someone who can remain laser-focused on the case

Someone who can be free from biased judgement while making rational, quick spur-of-the-moment decisions

In other words, we need Sinners who will help Dante out, are able to stay focused, and who can think on their feet without relying on their own internal biases.

I think it's important to lay those out as clearly as possible, because it makes the selections made by Dante and Verg very interesting, and also kind of funny.

Let's look at Dante's picks - Yi Sang, Meursault, and Faust. These are all, at a surface level, decent general picks, as all three of them are seen as smart and rational. However, if we look at them while keeping the previously mentioned traits in mind, it turns out these three might just be some of the worst picks Dante could ever fucking make.

The biggest issue - none of these bitches can think quickly. Faust is especially notorious for this, as it's consistently pointed out how she always needs a long time to come to a conclusion or otherwise has to pause to come up with answers. We also know Yi Sang is the type of person to get lost in his thoughts and just meander instead of getting to the point. Meursault is a bit of an outlier in that we see that he can think quickly, but if he's not given any orders he's never gonna act on those thoughts. Admittedly, he has been getting better at speaking up over time, but he's still mostly in this "only does what he's told to do" mode of operations.

This is where their issues split up a little bit.

Yi Sang is probably the most likely to be supportive of Dante out of the three - we see that he cares about others and has learned to interfere and give advice when he feels it's necessary (though who knows if he's doing well enough to keep that up after Canto 6, oof). No, rather his other issue lies in the focus department. This is the guy who, as I previously mentioned, meanders all over before getting to the point. Again, like Meursault, he has been getting better at not doing that, but he's still got ways to go.

Faust and Meursault on the other hand have the opposite issue. While they're fairly goot at staying focused on what they have to do, the issue is that they never fucking speak up. They're probbably the furthest from being supportive of Dante. They're most likely to learn info and just keep it to themselves until everyone has wasted way too much fucking time. Hell, Meursault would probably make a decently good detective if allowed to do the case all on his own, but since he's meant to be a part of a group, he's unlikely to help out that much without Dante directly ordering him around.

Now, onto Verg's picks - Rodya, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu. This is where things get really, really interesting. Because we have the reverse situation to Dante's picks - on the surface the choices seem random and counter-intuitive, but if we look deeper, it turns out they all fulfill the requirements surprisingly well.

I'm about to go on a tangent here, but I find it extremely important that we're focusing on this group of Sinners in the first Intervallo between what I consider to be the most thematically different arcs within Limbus. The first half of Inferno has been pretty squarely about confronting one's past, whether learning to face it properly after running away from it (Gregor, Rodya, Sinclair), or learning to move past it after refusing to let go of it (Yi Sang, Ishmael, Heathcliff).

However, looking at the Sinners we have left, it feels like the second half of Inferno might be focused less on the past specifically, but more about the Sinners' general reality. Especially the next upcoming trio of Cantos - Don Quixote, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu - have some heavy thematic focus on the idea of one's perception of reality, especially fitting for the three Sinners with weird eye shit going on.

With Timekilling Time focusing on the Sinners most misinterpreted by others in-character (and out of character), it feels like the perfect intro to this switch in thematic focus - exploring the actual realities of people who are otherwise hard to understand.

Anyway, back to discussing how Rodya, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu fit Dante's requirements.

Supportive of Dante - this is the requirement all three fulfill pretty well. Let me explain.

Rodya is probably the most obvious - she's a hypegirl through and through, and happy to take the reigns in some way or another if nobody else is able to, as we see in Canto 2. She's often one of the first people to point out when someone is not doing well, and shares a lot of her insight if in the mood, but she also knows when discretion is necessary.

Hong Lu is a fun one here - he's extremely perceptive and insightful, often sharing his thoughts with very little prompting. His only issue is that he tends to backpedal when he feels like he said something wrong, or generally just words shit in weird slightly offensive ways. He's supportive, he just doesn't always talk like he is.

Ryoshu is one I find most interesting here, as a lot of people seem to miss this about her character - despite her short temper and peculiar manner of carrying herself, she's actually pretty understanding and helpful towards people she's on amicable terms with. She always explains her acronyms if asked (and when she doesn't it's usually because people stop asking or Sinclair translates instead), she listens when told to stand down or otherwise do something when asked of by Dante or Sinclair, and the reason she tends to stay quiet is because she only speaks when she feels what she has to say is important.

Staying focused - this one is a bit harder to judge, but I'd say the only one who might not fulfill this one is Hong Lu, but only by a margin. Ryoshu is shown to get so focused she gets impatient when she can't get to the point, and Rodya always has her goal in mind even when she might act like she doesn't. Hong Lu is a bit harder to judge, as he seems to be the type to prioritze gathering information and satiating his curiostiy over the main goal, but in a case like this that might just be a massive plus.

Unbiased quick thinking - again, all three fulfill the quick thinking part very well. Rodya shows it constantly throughout Canto 2, Hong Lu shows it best in social interactions, and Ryoshu just doesn't want to waste time and so she naturally thinks quickly as well. It's when we come to the unbiased part that things get extremely interesting.

As individuals, Rodya, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu are all very biased people. Rodya sees the world from the perspective of someone who suffered in the poor Backstreets. Hong Lu sees the world from the perspective of a rich Nest dweller coming from a family of dubious morality. Ryoshu sees the world from the perspective of (probably) an ex-Ring member obsessed with the art that is reality. Their backgrounds color the information they take in a lot.

However... this means that as a group, all three balance each other's biases out. Rodya's cynicism gets balanced out by Hong Lu's idealism, which is balanced by Ryoshu's realism. Their backgrounds couldn't be more different, and thus give the widest possible perspective when put together.

I think this is the point Verg is making with this selection. Dante's selection is the easy way out. It's people that Dante already knows how to deal with, and would rather pick even if their skillsets don't fit the situation. Verg is making Dante learn how to work with Sinners who might be harder to deal with, but have skillsets more fitting for the situation at hand.

Dante can't keep half-assing everything by always turning to the same few people. Every Sinner in the group has their use and are smart in their own unique ways. They have to figure what every Sinner's strong point is, otherwise they'll end up putting everyone in danger by relying on people who are simply not good in a situation while ignoring those who could help.

So... that's what I think.

Anyway, personal general update - I'm still alive! And also very swamped with college and constant exhaustion. So, things will have to change a bit moving forward.

Number one - I will not be returning to old analysis requests. There's too many at this point, and I just don't have the time to sit down and write longass posts whenever I want anymore. However, that isn't to say E.G.O and Sin analyses will never return! I have plaaans for what I want to do with those moving forward, it just may take some time to materialize.

Number two - I'm generally just more active on Discord than on Tumblr. Yapping on Discord feels more natural for me, as it's just... less formal than making a full post I guess. So, if you want to discuss things with me, or if you're on a server that you think would do well with having me yapping in there, feel free to shoot me an invite link in replies (or in DMs if you don't want it to be public)!

Number three - Go check out the Absolute Pride Resonance event on Youtube! I'm not a part of it maybe next time wink wink nudge nudge, but you should still check it out cause it's a bunch of cool people doing very scuffed streams, as is fitting for the scuff Project Moon is known for.

Alright, that's it. I still don't know how to end Tumblr Posts. Bye.

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: why is it so difficult to find high quality post-prison reid fbi vest gifs like I thought we were all sluts out here but Ig not

gif creds: @imagining-in-the-margins

Duality Of Man

Spencer Reid had never really considered himself to be a reckless man. He had always been a calculated, well thought out, methodical follower of the rules - for fear of being ridiculed further for breaking societal rules beyond the ones he couldn’t help via his neurodivergence. He enjoyed rules. Learning the rules of people, of their behavior, and of various board games that challenged his intellect, were some of his favorite pastimes, actually.

Spencer also would not have regarded himself as a particularly possessive or territorial person, prior to spending three months behind bars. They isolated him, kept him locked in a space with people that wanted him dead, like an animal raised in captivity being thrown into a cage of wild lions. Having nothing of his own changed the way in which Spencer viewed the world around him, once he was allowed to step back into it.

Yours had been the first face he had seen when he had set foot beyond the prison walls on the day of his release, and the moment he felt you return to his embrace, in a gesture the two of you had engaged in countless times - a form of physical contact that he was most comfortable sharing with you - Spencer felt that something was different. In a way that he didn’t quite understand, you were his, beyond the platonic confines he had previously forced over his own feelings for you. He was not overbearing and had never overstepped your boundaries, but he was more outwardly protective of you than anyone else.

It had only presented itself in small gestures and words: moving to stand slightly in front of you in any kind of tense situation to act as your human shield, checking in with you at every stage of the cases you worked together, prioritizing your safety over his, and, naturally being the first one to object when you volunteered to go undercover to seduce an unsub into revealing information.

“Absolutely not.” Spencer had uttered from where he sat beside you at the round table, shaking his head.

And you had rolled your eyes at him. “I’ll be fine, Spence, I can handle myself.”

He couldn’t argue with that, he had seen you stare down men twice your size on several occasions, which always made him smirk. Still, Spencer could not hide the sick feeling that twisted in his gut at the thought of you going undercover, and being in danger.

As he had often found, the feeling in Spencer’s gut had been right. The unsub had been clever enough to deduce that you were a deliberate victim, not one of happenstance, and as such, he took you to a secondary location, which he had not done with his previous victims.

Given it was not his usual mode of operation and he had acted on instinct, the unsub’s play was an amateur move; comparable to what Spencer was certain Gideon thought in their first chess games together, so many years prior. As clever as the ubsub had been in figuring out you were not who you said you were, he was not intelligent enough to outsmart the one man army of Doctor Spencer Reid when fuelled by a fire that he had never felt burning in him before. It took less than a day for the team of profilers to find the warehouse you were being kept in, and less than a minute for Spencer to completely disregard their carefully orchestrated plan to rescue an FBI agent with the regulated SWAT team.

He didn’t need a team behind him for this.

He would handle this himself.

With a kick that Spencer was sure Derek Morgan would be proud of, the door to the warehouse was made obsolete. Gun and torch raised, Spencer stalked the dark warehouse, checking dusty room after dusty room, eagle eyes scanning every corner, until a figure dared step out of the shadows in front of him. Anyone foolish enough to make themselves a physical blockade that kept Spencer from getting to you was a waste of oxygen.

“So, you’re the one she’s convinced is coming to save her.” The unsub taunted, chuckling darkly as he raised his arms out to his side cockily. “C’mon then, show me what you’ve got. No weapons, just you and me, man to man.”

As if to prove the authenticity of his own words, he discarded his usual weapon of choice, the blade clattering against the warehouse floor.

Spencer eyed him like a wild lion in a cage, and he almost smirked at the irony, but kept his expression calm and collected. He glanced at the doorway of the dark room they stood in, knowing that protocols would advise him to call for assistance, to make the arrest with as little physical harm as possible. But when Spencer’s eyes gravitated back to the subject who was now very much known to him, his target was in his sights.

An icy glare stayed fixed on the man that took you as the sound of a torch and gun hitting the ground echoed through the otherwise empty room. The air was thick as Spencer unclipped his FBI bulletproof vest and tossed that to the ground, too. And with no sense of urgency, he popped the cufflinks of his shirt and rolled his long sleeves up to his elbows.

An invitation to beat the life out of someone that took you? Hurt you? It must be Christmas.

Spencer’s expression was unmoving, and he didn’t say a word. Finally, after a childhood spent as a victim of merciless bullying and a portion of his adulthood fearing the judgment and cruelty of others, Spencer Reid was confident in his ability to end a physical confrontation with his own two fists.

In three large strides, he was face to face with the egotist, who swung at him - pathetically and predictably enough for Spencer to not only swerve out of the way, but reciprocate the gesture tenfold. A solid right hook spun the idiot’s jaw and sent him stumbling, but Spencer was far from finished. He stalked over to him and in a matter of steps, had grabbed his target by his shirt collar and forced him against the wall. The fool was still reeling from Spencer’s punch, a dazed look in his eyes and blood dripping from his split lip.

“Did you touch her?”

Spencer’s words were eerily quiet, barely above a whisper, but in the silence of the warehouse they reverberated against every wall. He had a feeling that he already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it; he had to be sure his next actions would be justified.

His vision clearing, the man fool enough to take you smirked up at Spencer.

“(Y/N) looks real pretty when she cries, doesn’t she?”

He chose to answer Spencer’s question with a rhetorical question that immediately decided his fate.

In a fraction of a second, Spencer threw his target to the ground and pounced on him, vision clouded with red as he landed punch after punch, until the ground looked just as red to everybody else. If three months in prison had taught Spencer Reid anything, it wasn’t how to fight, it was how to fight dirty.

He only stopped when the physical barrier sputtered for breath, and that was only because Spencer didn’t want to get thrown back into a cell - away from you. Catching his breath, Spencer lifted his gaze and scanned the room around him again.

“Spencer?!”

And he was stood, his rage an afterthought as he followed the weak sound of your voice, your call to him. In a sea of voices, Spencer could pinpoint yours in an instant. Having heard commotion, you had assumed it was him, coming to your rescue, like you always knew he would.

He found you in the next room, bruised and bloody, tied to a chair and covered in torn clothes with cuts beneath them that reassured Spencer the blood dripping from his knuckles was beyond worth it.

The look in his eyes was so soft as he ran to you and crouched in front of you, kissing your forehead as he tore the ropes from you with no regard for the burns he may get on his already bloody hands.

Finally free, you collapsed into Spencer’s arms, and he released the breath he’d been holding since you’d been taken, closing his eyes as he held you tightly against him, standing up and helping you to your feet in turn. The weight of the trauma you carried made your legs shake beneath you, but Spencer was there to hold you steady; he would always be there. He held your face in his hands and gave you the softest smile you’d ever seen, his thumbs ever so gently caressing your cheeks.

It took you a second to come to terms with your surroundings and your rescue, but as soon as you had, your eyes widened and you took Spencer’s hands in yours.

“You’re hurt.” You murmured, tears shining in your eyes as you held his bloody knuckles with such tenderness, he was surprised he could feel it after the aggression his hands had just been subjected to, but he would always be able to feel you.

Spencer almost chuckled in disbelief as you - in your beaten, bloody and traumatized state - became upset over a little blood on his hands. Well, maybe it was more than a little…

“Adrenaline, (Y/N), I can’t feel a thing.” Spencer reassured you in a soft voice, holding your face in his hands again and placing the lightest kiss on your nose. “But we need to get you to a doctor.”

The moment he said it, the rest of the team filtered into the room, having passed the sputtering suspect and Spencer’s discarded bulletproof vest on their way.

The look on Emily’s face told Spencer he would have several unpleasant reports to fill out regarding how he’d handled this case, but when he stared into your eyes and saw the stars in them, he knew he’d do it all again a hundred times if you were waiting on the other side for him.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Costume Meta 7x04

How we all doing?? have we managed to find some semblance of equilibrium in this new world where we have canon bi buck?? I’m not sure I’ll ever know how to exist in this world but that’s fine with me! I’m still here writing my silly costume metas and having a blast in this bright new world!

No Hen this week as we never see her out of uniform!

The rest is below the cut because you would all hate me if i clogged your feeds with this beast (shes 7k)- you have been warned!!

Actually going to start this week with a uniform out of work section!

Because three times in this episode, we had one of the firefam wearing an element of their uniform out of work and its actually pretty key!

We have Bobby in his LAFD polo when he informs Athena that Harry is wanted for assault and he fled the state.

Then we have Chim at the basketball game in his LAFD hoodie

And finally Buck at the airfield on his tour with Tommy.

All three are playing into the idea of protecting ones self by being in an official capacity in some way. Firefighters (like all first responders) are of course there to 'protect and serve' the community.

Bobby delivers the news to Athena about Harry - he's in uniform because he can inhabit a small aspect of his captain mentality - makes it easier to deliver the news and also gives him the distance to play the 'don't shoot the messenger' card if necessary.

Chimney has to step into paramedic mode at the end of the scene. The LAFD hoodie separates him from everyone else at the court and foreshadows that he will have to 'go to work' its also about chimney being there as the colleague not the almost brother in-law of Buck. An important distinction - it protects Chim from being seen to favour anyone (specifically from Buck. (Buck is angry and not being rational so Chimney has protection from Bucks potential anger for helping Eddie - Buck is already feeling awful by that point so the protection isn't needed but it provides cover if it were) and allows him to go into first responder mode. (this is so badly worded but I'm sure you get what I mean!!)

Buck is at the airfield under the guise of wanting to find out more about becoming an air support firefighter - its the cover under which he is operating to try and befriend Tommy. The jacket also provides him protection from Eddie when he shows up and finds out Buck is not coming to Vegas with him and Tommy.

Bobby

Just the one costume for Bobby this week - a maroon tee that her's wearing to sleep in. we see him in this colour a lot - its a bit of a staple colour for him and I've spoken a lot about maroon tees and shirts representing parental roles in relation to the various children of the 118. Its no different here -we can see from Bobbys face he isn't buying what Harry is saying and the parental concern we see evidenced here plays out with him calling Michael and finding out what is really going on.

Athena

Athena wears a lot of black this week, which is fairly typical from her, although we are in a much more overall muted palette than usual and its missing the jewel tones we're used to seeing her increasingly wear. its a bit of a signal of returning to normality now they're back from the cruise disaster.

She starts off in black and pink pyjamas but I'm going to talk about those at the end in the pink section so we're skipping ahead to this ruffle smocked cream blouse and her gorgons head necklace is back. the ruffling is an nod to her feathers being ruffled when Bobby tells her about Harry and his arrest warrant, and the white with the black trousers is about things being black and white - for Athena as a cop things do tend to be black and white when it comes to the law - of course Athena has always been one to work within the law to bend the rules but in this moment things are black and white.

Then we have her all in black with a red longline cardigan which has a open weave that give the appearance of mesh or a cage. The show has been using Red since day one which makes sense as it is a first responder show and you literally cannot escape it when the fire trucks are red! But they have always been pretty careful about when they use bright red in the costuming meaning its appearance with such regularity this season so far is pretty telling. Its an advance warning of incoming danger/trouble/strife, but it is rarely worn by the one who is directly in danger - they will be involved, but not the centre of it. The best example of this is Bucks bright red broadcloth shirt when Christopher calls him because Eddie is smashing up his bedroom.

Here we have it on Athena in the scene when things are about to properly kick into action with Harrys story. Athena is literally a red net about to ensnare Harry. its the one time in this episode we see Athena in a bold bright colour - something that generally is attached to her being happy or having fun, but not here.

The denim sleeveless shirt/jacket when Athena goes to the hospital to visit the lady who shot her son (does she have a name - I cant remember!) and later to talk to Harry about the reality of his altercation, is quite bulky and blocky. It's far less fitted, structured or flowy that we are used to seeing on Athena. To me this is about playing into her struggles to tread the line between mother and cop - that neither role fits right. That denim is also a fabric associated with labour, it suggests Athena is working hard to figure it out.

Then we get this all black outfit when she takes Harry to the station - it is such a simple yet effective bit of costuming, especially with the silver zips and buckles- it blends her in with the police officers in the station so she can hover the line between mom and cop - and makes it look like an arresting officer bringing in a suspect.

Harry

New Harry comes with a new style!!

I actually can't wait to see how they dress him over the rest of the season because there was a definite colour theme at play here this week with all the beiges, greens and redish browns which is very not how younger Harry dressed (he was much more bright colours).

Not going to lie - my hatred for the copaganda and the fact I've been in Bi Buck land since the episode aired has made it hard to focus on Harrys outfits in greater detail, but I do have a few thoughts!

This first shirt is a map print, maps denote journey's andHarry is on a literal and metophorical journey - the literal being the one he made form Florida to LA. The metaphorical one is all about his journey to become a man, and learning to take responsibility for his actions, so this shirt is essentially setting out his arc for the season - Makes me feel like the storylines with harry we're going to see are going to be about the community service he has to undertake and him figuring things out and growing up a bit in relation to that.

Then next up we have this cream hoodie with an brownish beige pocket. the thing I found interesting about this choice was the fact that Harry played himself off as innocent. lawyers usually instruct their clients to wear white shirts to court, and to avoid loud patterns. The white is because i suggests purity or innocence, and the loud patterns should be avoided because it suggests you're trying to employ subterfuge (that you're lying). So Harry wearing a block of cream is a play on this idea. We see him in the map shirt before - when he is employing subterfuge about his reasons for visiting, and now this cream is him trying to suggest his innocence to his mother - the use of cream rather than white is telling us that he isn't as innocent as he is making out!

Finally we have check theory (my most beloved) in play. harry returns to wearing patterns - this one check and in greens and browns. there is an element of military to the green shades, its a coloour we've seen used on Eddie to show his military background, but it is also a colour frequently worn by Athena - usually when she is fighting for her family in some way. Here it feels like a refelction of that, with the added aspect of green being a colour of growth. Harry shows contrition and is willing to take his punishement, showing his growth, but also showing his understanding of fighting for his family - and Athenas willingness to do the same. its showing us tht he is his mothers son. And of course the check is the pointer towards the fact he is in trouble - that his earlier protestations of innocence were false!

Then we move on the he Buckley-Hans

Chimney

Only the one for Chimney this week, it's a very short scene where he is completely oblivious to the tone of the conversation. He's dressed completely in greys and is by all accounts neutrally costumed. this is intentional - he's not the focus of this scene and when we think that so much of this episode is shown from Bucks pov, the use of neutral grey makes sense - Buck is projecting on to chimney in this scene. Buck himself is speaking his jealousy and fear, while what Chimney says is actually the little voice inside his head that isn't in fact jealous of Tommy, but is impressed by him

Maddie

Again only two costumes for Maddie this week and one of them is her dispatch outfit, but I'm including it because of its place with a mini colour theme for this episode, which both of her outfits play into.

I spoke about the use of red in Athenas section and its representing danger, and it is in play for both of Maddie's outfits, the wearer changes though. In the first scene, Maddie is in blue - dark blue. a tee with 'The Great School' and bobcat logo on the front. I love this, the bobcat is a symbol of inner strength and resilience in the face of adversity, while Maddie is a great source of learning for Buck - he essentially raised him and has been a sounding board for him since she returned to his life. Maddie is the next level wise older sister, her point of view is important to Buck and is grounding for him. She had got him to back down from his spiral over Eddie and Chris, until Chimney came in (and like I said above, that was Bucks inner voice, not really Chimney)

Then we have her dispatch uniform and its red. This is a clever play actually, it allows the costume team to put Maddie into red, a colour we don't really see on her outside of work (a deliberate choice as it helps distinguish work from non work to the audience). Just like Buck was the angry one in the other Buckley siblings scene, her Maddie is the one who is angry (with good reason) and we again get Buck recieving education at he hands of Maddie - in her place of work where she is a lifeline to people and where she holds authority. Buck needed her in a lifeline capacity in this moment and he got it, despite her anger. She gave him the advice and help he needed.

Eddie

Eddie my man looking suave and confident - this Eddie is Bucks version of Eddie so of course he looks cool, well dressed and in a green and black combo. In nearly every scene where Eddie nad Buck have a deep meaningful conversation - one that gets through to Buck on a higher level - that works on Bucks abandonment complex, Eddie is dressed in a black shirt and khaki green trousers (the only exception is the will reveal when he's in navy blue but that is to play in the yellow blue colour theming and its a close to black as they could have a blue!), this outfit is an inverse though, which is actually really clever. Eddie (Bucks version) here is playing into Bucks fear of abandonment - Bucks version of Eddie has spent so long building him up and chipping away at that fear that to invert that colour theme and have green on top and black trousers is a fun way of inverting that chipping away at Bucks fear - this is putting another brick in that abandonment wall

The black tank top!! Its back and everybody cheered! Ok so I wrote this meta about when the show puts Eddie into a black tank top and how it means he's in an emotionally vulnerable place and once more, the theory plays out. Obviously Eddie gets physically injured, but his face when he looks at Buck after he's gone down shows him emotionally vulnerable. Yes there is a little bit of anger and a lot of pain in the look he gives him, but there is also understanding and a little guilt too.

It's the moment Eddie realises that he has unintentionally sidelined his best friend, and the effect that has had on Buck and his abandonment issues. This is Eddie showing his truly deep understanding of Buck and how Buck ticks (and because this is also from Bucks pov, its also showing us Buck understanding that Eddie understands how Buck ticks) we get all of this proven when Tommy comes over to Bucks later and clearly states that Eddie is feeling bad about the whole situation.

It is also worth noting that When Buck has seen Eddie at the gym or being sporty in some way Eddie has either been in uniform or in a black singlet and that he always looks super competent (even if he is working through things when he is in the black singlet). From my perspective, this is an interesting choice to play into because it suggests Buck recognises Eddies emotional maturity over him, even when he's not in a great place (we can discount fight club Eddie becasue Buck didn't actually see him there), its clearly something Buck admires and places as central to how he sees Eddie.

Tommy

Tommys costuming is chefs kiss perfection to me. The wardrobe department have literally dressed him as Eddie and I am living for it.

Its a way to emphasise that Tommy and Eddie are super similar. this serves two purposes - it builds a visual connection for the audience - we don't need to be shown Tommy in the army or fighting/ training in Muay Thai etc, we can mentally make a connection to the ones we've seen of Eddies in the past and accept the information as fact. obviously not all people who join the army or undertake MMA are going to dress the same, but this is television where visual information is valuable real estate, so playing into tropes and stereotypes is a key piece of arsenal.

The other thing about it is the specific Eddies its calling back to - fight club Eddie and to a lesser extent, post breakdown Eddie when he's back in therapy and unrepressing himself.

Tommys basketball outfit is really about making him stand out from everyone else - it makes him seem to appear more because the blue shorts and the light coloured top will catch your eye, even if he's not the focus of the camera at that moment. This is all about the fact that this is Bucks perspective on things - he is seeing Tommy everywhere and feeling like he's taking over/ taking away Eddie and so we the audience feel that same thing in a visual way. The thing the blue shorts do is visually connect Tommy to buck in the next scene we see Buck in - when he is talking to Maddie at dispatch - the blues are similar enough for us to subconsciously connect back to that scene and link Buck and Tommy together rather than Buck to Eddie - who Buck is dressed more similarly too in the basketball scene.

It doesn't hurt that the blue shorts also play into yellow blue theory - especially against the sunsets yellow hues in a scene that is playing homage to a famously queer coded scene from Top gun.

Then there is this outfit from Bucks loft. again is very similar to an Eddie outfit - its the same style of shirt we often see Eddie wearing especially in seasons 4 and 5.

Tommys jeans have always been reminiscent of Eddies Jeans (I mean I know they are jeans, but I promise the significance will become clear when I get to Buck!)

Even Tommys watch is similar to Eddies Christopher watch (every other watch in the show worn by the men is all black - black strap black face and mount only the Christopher watch is different) in that it has a different coloured strap to the watch face and its mount.

The other thing I want to mention quick, is the progression of Tommys costumes in relation to them being similar to Eddies. By this I mean the first non uniform costume we see Tommy in is very stage 2 Eddie, while the one below is very much more stage 3 Eddie.

I also really like the use of a purple/red/black shot tee for this scene as well. If you watch the scene through, the way its lit changes its colour as different sections of the scene unfold. The red tones are there early on, during the apology and conversation around Eddie being allowed to have more than one friend and Christophers adoration of Buck. it gives it that air of danger lurking, because Tommy isn't sure how things are going to play out. and plays into the red/blue theme we saw with Buck and Maddie in this episode - just on a much lower level.

Then it turns this purplish shade as we move into the initial stages of flirting - from the moment Buck moves around the counter to put himself in the same space as Tommy. It gives things an air of mystery, but purple can also be a colour of enlightenment - both elements are in play here and I love they were able to do this with this shirt.

The shirt turns black at the moment Tommy says 'my attention' - the moment he essentially hold all the cards on making a move - he is the one with the power here (as the already queer person in the room) and black is a power colour, so its the perfect choice for the moment he makes his move.

Buck

Buck my beloved bi disaster. His costumes were doing some pretty impressive storytelling this episode!

We start off at the air field - I spoke at the start about this LAFD jacket and the theme of protection, but I also have other things to say about it and the rest of the costume. We don't generally see Buck out of work wearing uniform (we actually don't see many of the firefam in uniform out of work tbh) so when we do its going to have meaning. T

he thing with the bomber jacket being the choice (they could've made it a hoodie which we've seen him wear out of work more!) is that on one level plays into its name and the fact that its being worn at an airfield, while on another level it low key plays into the Buck cheating arc. which is actually fun - the idea that he's 'cheating' on the 118 by claiming he's thinking about his career options and also cheating on Eddie by trying to befriend Tommy (because at this point that is all it is its only once Eddie appears that things change).

The trousers are also important. I know I've said before about how trousers are less important than tops because they are less likely to get screen time. We not here - here they are really important, but only with the context of the rest of the episode.

These are the short in the leg dark trousers we've come to know and love on Buck - he's been solidly wearing them since season 2 and what we have seen him wearing so far in season 7 so no surprises to see them here. But this is the last time we see them and its super important and telling.

We also have Bucks white trainers - the ones that he wears when he moves forward on his journey - we see him in them the entire time this episode.

Buck and Maddie this episode have a red v blue thing going on in their scenes together. In this one Buck is in red and Maddie in blue. I spoke about the red for danger theme they seem to be using this season for the red clothes above in Athenas section and it applies here - Buck in red is foreshadowing the danger/strife that the basketball game presents as that is what he is talking about and what he is most upset about over Tommy and Eddies friendship.

It's a slightly burnt out red in comparison to Bobbys red shirt from the cruise, Athenas red cardigan, or even the red he wore when Eddie had his breakdown. Its not a full high alert colour, its a more muted and restrained colour - suggesting the danger is going to be less of a big thing, that it's just a part of it rather than the main big thing

We can also see that Buck is now wearing more traditional stonewash jeans - this is the first time we're seeing them on him since Eddies arrival at the fire house. I'll explain them in more detail in Bucks last outfit of the episode, but I needed to point their presence out here.

Basketball Buck in his white shirt and dark blue marl cut off tee - its very Buck posturing at the firehouse gym and its meant to be. Its a direct reference to the last time Buck showed any jealousy towards Eddie. The shorts are different this time in that they're white/light grey rather than black, but I think this is done for two reasons - it creates a pairing with Eddie - they are dressed similarly with dark tops and lighter grey shorts, but on opposite teams/sides.

It also makes him stand out from everyone else at the game - excepting Tommy (and a random guy in a red top with white shorts that I'm living for. When Red = foreshadowing as I've talked about above, this guys actions on the court are precursors of what is about to happen - we see him bump into Tommy - a couple of moments later and Buck does the same thing, then just before Eddie gets taken out by Buck, he gets breezed past by Eddie stumbles and starts limping. Its fun and clever and not something many people will pick up on - its a bit like the role of the bullet in Hamilton!)

Bucks bright blue chunky corduroy shirt with white tee underneath. I already spoke about the visual connection between Tommy from the basketball game and this shirt. It also fits into the red and blue theme I spoke about above - this time Buck is the one in blue and with the combination of Buck in his danger incoming white shirt and Maddie being in red it signals exactly what this scene is going to be about.

The danger, in my opinion, is Maddies wrath at Buck getting physical with Eddie. Its a perfectly valid and important response from her and plays into the growth we get from Buck in this episode that is not connected to his bi awakening - the recognition and acceptance of his bad behaviour in a far more mature way than we saw from s3 Buck.

The chunky corduroy give the shirt vertical stripes and we all know how I feel about Buck and vertical stripes at this point - I wrote about them a lot in my seasons 5 and 6 metas and the blue and white nature of bucks outfit plays into the theming that was at play in early season 6 - where Buck was free from Taylor and resisting buying a couch because he was looking for the right couch etc. (and playing house husband to Eddie nad feeding them!!!)

Here in this episode we kind of have Buck going through a similar process - free from the shackles of death and trying to figure things out - who he is and what he wants, he's still on that hamster wheel in many ways at this point in the episode but he is about to jump off it.

This is the key to happiness and Lev's advice and the year of yes scene 2.0 - the same shade of blue are at play here. Lev figuring it out ('I get it now') just as he's dying and Buck then trying to figure out what Lev had figured out and essentially failing before he died only to now get it and free himself is a blue thread we've been following through season 6 up to bucks death, then the use of this shade of blue in Bucks costumes tailed off - we saw it reappear a couple of times after the lightening strike - specifically around Natalia and his continues flirtation with death - almost like his hovering around death was him trying to grasp what Lev had figured out.

Then the blue had been gone again only for it to reappear here in this episode in a scene that precedes Bucks bi awakening and his comments about being free and 'yeah that works' with their double meanings that play in the same way as lev's 'I think i get it now' just without death coming immediately after. It's a scene when he starts to get an inkling on what his jealousy is actually about. (The fact we know he's going to be back in this bright blue in the next episode in a scene with Eddie - that is very likely a coming out scene also plays into this idea.)

And the stone wash jeans are once more there for all to see!

Then we get this dark navy blue shirt with silvery white dots and yet again those stone wash jeans.

Ok lets talk about the jeans! The fact that we haven't seen Buck wearing stone wash jeans, which if you watch the opening couple of seconds of the dispatch scene, you will see are proper normal length on him and not ankle swingers like we've got used to seeing him in for the last few seasons!

The thing with him suddenly wearing these stonewash jeans is all about imitation - imitation of Tommy (and by extension, imitation of Eddie even though we don't see Eddie in stonewash denim in this episode) because you know that old adage of dressing like the person you want to be , or the idea that you subconsciously start dressing like the person you have a crush one?? Well yeah - Buck has all these new feelings that he doesn't know what to do with, but Tommy is cool and Tommy dresses like Eddie and Eddie seems to like Tommy better than Buck now so maybe if Buck starts dressing a bit like Tommy he'lI get Eddies attention back. So he's pulled out the stone wash jeans so that he's dressed a bit more like Tommy, but he's also dressing a bit like his crush that he doesn't yet realise is a crush.

The other small thing that I think is a nice nod - So Like I said earlier, the last time we see the jeans is in 2x01 - Eddies introduction to the firehouse. This is the moment (on screen at least for us as viewers) that Buck ceases to be the probie - that baton is passed to Eddie, so its almost like a symbol of him graduating and maturing in some way. then we get the jeans back for Bucks bi awakening - we see them the entire time he's navigating all these new feelings he has - he's never been with a man, so he's like a probie again.

The thing is, that the jeans appear to be gone for his date with Tommy (makes sense - he's on a date so he's got to look good for his man!) , and from what I can tell from the (super dark even when brightened) stills from the Buck Eddie loft scene, it would appear they are gone for that scene too. We've had bts of Oliver in the jeans again, so I don't think they're gone completely, but that makes sense, he's still a baby queer after all, still navigating his way through things.

On to the shirt! I wrote a whole meta about this shirt (and the jeans actually!) when we first got this still - you can read it here and I'm still a little awestruck at how close to the mark I got!

What I want to add to what I said, now I have context is that the two previous times we've seen blue shirts with dots are played upon in this scene - the lawsuit is the obvious one and the parallel is showing Bucks growth - he got jealous and worried about being replaced and ended up lashing out and suing everyone, now he got jealous and thought he was being replaced, but as soon as he lashes out, he realises he is in the wrong and verbally acknowledges it.

The diner with Maddie scene is a bit more tricky to parse out, but for me, it ties to Doug - Maddie is quick to call Buck out when he confesses to Eddies injury not being an accident, because of her experiences at the hands of Doug. In the diner scene she is determined to go back to her apartment and her life in the aftermath of killing him - she wants life to go back to normal. In the loft scene Buck is trying to achieve that end too - he's in a new world where Tommy exists as part of his life now (as Eddies friend initially) and he wants to clear the air and move forward - so he's still a part of Eddies life.

I also want to talk about the contrast between this scene and the one where Taylor turns up at his door after the shooting and the difference between being chased and doing the chasing. Its spots v stripes!

Buck is in a similar shirt - short sleeved button up in a dark shade (black) - this one with vertical stripes for the Taylor scene and he thinks he's being chased for the first (ish) time (Abby sort of chased him but he is the one who pushed for it to be a relationship when I think she just wanted a bit of fun and a hook up! so I'm not sure if it actually counts or not). Thing is Taylor only chases him after they've already kissed and when he's then made it clear thats what needs to happen. (as an aside - Natalia does pursue Buck - not romantically, but because he has died - and she is the one wearing vertical stripes

While in this scene he doesn't have to say anything, yes he flirts, but he isn't explicit about what hewants - Tommy is the one who makes the decision to go for it, and so when he genuinely gets pursued, he is wearing dots

Chased verse's doing the chasing - dots v stripes

Then we have the Pink.

Pink is back in full force in 7x04 with it popping up regularly throughout the episode.

I didn't include Athenas pink dressing gown or Bucks pink shorts in their sections because I actually wanted to talk about them here. The context the scenes they were in gave me the information I needed to figure out what I think the purpose of all the pink we've been seeing is.

Lets start with a quick recap of all the pink from the 3 previous episodes then we'll look at the pink from this episode as well as the fact I've already spotted some for 7x05 from the trailer

7x01

Athena's pale pink top in therapy with Frank

Sue at dispatch in a pink cardigan

Christophers pencil is pink when he's sat at his desk - when he reads the letter from Shannon

Marisol in her bright pink strappy top

Lola's Manzanillo outfit is bright pink and white

Norman has pink flowers on his Hawaiian shirt and he later wears a bright pink polo shirt when he's pretending Lola is still with him.

7x02

the woman who is teaching her daughter to drive

the pink roses on Hen's jacket (which I know I said play into the theme of family bonds etc but the pink has a second meaning)

7x03

The cruise ship family nearly all wear pink at various points (grandma and mom are the exceptions)

and now 7x04

We have Ashley C in hot pink at the Bachelor mansion

Athena in her dusty pink ddressing gown (and pyjama pants

The woman who shot her son is in pink

And then there are Bucks pink shorts!

All of these scenes with the pink are scenes about either naivety and or innocence

The pink on Athena is about her being naive about her relationship with Bobby - not recognising that she is nothing to fear about them spending time together.

Sues pink cardigan. Sue's line is about the civilians at risk from the fighter jet - she is representing their innocence

Christophers pink pencil - in that scene his behaviour might be naive (he's a child so of course it is) but it comes from a place of complicated feelings as he does begin to mature - he was the innocent party in the loss of Shannon and he is the one left to suffer.

Lola is naive on the ship about having an affair and thinking she could get away with it and that it wouldn't hurt Norman. She’s also innocent in the plot regarding the bitcoin (or whatever it was)

Norman is also both naive and innocent - not recognising the fact his wife is cheating, for selling up their entire life and he is innocent in the bitcoin plot.

The mother and daughter were innocent in the car crash.

the pink flowers on Hens jacket hint at her being innocent of any wrong doing (from a departmental perspective) at the car accident.

The cruise family are innocent - just in the wrong place at rhetorical wrong time and they are a representation of all the innocent people on the boat who end up in danger on that ship.

I think the Marisol top is an interesting one - it plays into Chris being naïve thinking he can date multiple girls without them finding out. But I also think it’s foreshadowing her naivety in general - I think we might either see her immaturity in some way (perhaps on a date with Eddie) which will prove terminal for her relationship with Eddie. Now we know about this date scene coming up this is possible but it could also end up being about the fact that she is likely going to be an innocent party caught in the crossfire of Eddie unrepressing himself (much in the same way Ana was back in s4/5.

Ashely C's pink dress is a representation of the innocence of trying to find love.

Athena's pink dressing gown is about her innocently and blindly/ naively being excited about Harrys return home to her.

The lady who shot her son is innocent in that her actions were brought about by something out of her control and so she can't truly be held responsible for them.

Then Bucks pink shorts are about his queer innocence and naivety about his feelings the fact that we see them in a scene where Tommy isn’t present, a scene that is meant to inform the audience that his behaviours is all about Eddie and not Tommy - that he’s naively not grasping that part of this internal confusion that he's experiencing.

To add to all of this, we have Marisol carrying a pink bag in the teaser for next week, to me if pink theory is correct then this is playing into the idea that Marisol is naively dating Eddie and that she's going to be an innocent caught up in whatever goes down in that scene (part of this arc) the use of lighter pink here specifically on a handbag is giving me babyish vibes as well (its screaming little girl playing at dress up!). As a quick aside - I am very amused that shes been dressed in a basic black top - she looks like wait staff!

And of course there is Eddies pink ensemble that is connected to either Chims bachelor party or the Madney Wedding. I have no idea what is going to happen in this scene(s) but whatever does go down - place your bets on Eddie being innocent (and or naive!) in whatever goes on - itll be fun to see if I'm right! 🤓

Right 7k later and that is me done for this meta!!! I am handing out the tea, coffee, cake and biscuits (all dietary requirements catered for!)🫖☕️🧁🍩🍪- you've earnt them if you've made it to the end of this monster! Hope you enjoyed reading. i'm off to revel in Bi Buck some more - I can't believe its happened I'm overcome!!! 🩷💜💙

Tagged peeps as always are below!

@theladyyavilee @mistmarauder @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @bewilderedbuckley @spotsandsocks @bewitchedbewilderedbisexual @rogerzsteven @wanderingwomanwondering @oneawkwardcookie @leothill @copyninjabuckley @shammers86 @crazyfangirlallert @missmagooglie @katyobsesses @radiation-run @gayandbifiremenofmine @bi-moonlight @crazyaboutotps @princesschez75 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sherlocking-out-loud @tommykinarddd @satashiiwrites @lover-of-mine

(if the tags don't work its because people have changed their url (very valid of you!) and I didn't know, so let me know if you want tagging in future in the comments so I can catch the new urls!

[fandomlurker333]

A lot of people are screaming throuple and just writing the porn (which I get! It’s fun!). But reading them come is not enough for me. lol Toxicity is hot until it’s just damaging and sad for everyone. I want real happiness for these three weirdos.

The end of the film was meant to be the very beginning of something. Just the spark of an idea of them coming back to one another. But the real work starts after. 

And I think it would probably be a step-by-step thing. 

I can see Patrick and Art working to draw closer, with that strong foundation of their childhoods to build off of. Obviously having to resolve the hurt that so much time and distance caused them, and both being willing to forgive. But it’s clear at the end of the film that the door is open for that. They grew up together. There’s a real root of knowing that I think could carry them through the toughest parts early on. Their relationship evolving feels possible.

And Tashi and Art’s marriage would find some breathing room and maybe even some renewed delight for having Patrick present and loving on them both. Kinda seeing each other again through his eyes type thing. Remembering they’re more than who they have been to each other for over a decade (both operating in one mode to survive, never quite enough for each other -- not totally fulfilled and not appreciated in their fullness).

I don’t think Patrick and Tashi would be having sex at this point, but I can see like….tennis dates where they bicker. Just them all learning how to be in each other’s space for extended periods of time and enjoy it.

And maybe Art wouldn’t resent Tashi so much for not being able to give him everything (so much has been taken from her — she just doesn’t have all that much left. She’s been doing her best.) and maybe Tashi would feel more at peace seeing them play each other and knowing Art is really loving tennis, not just playing for her. Connecting with them both in that space and finding joy in tennis again, so it’s not just routine and pain and loss for her.

With that healing happening concurrently (with therapists as support, of course), I think they’d get far. And then once those relationships are more secure, once Art and Tashi learn how they relate to each other when he isn’t winning for her (which would be something new. They don’t know what that looks like yet!) then Patrick and Tashi, having learned way more about themselves in relationship and how to communicate, might start working on their side of the triangle lol. 

I could see them all exploring and working out the intimacy over time — not just sex, but intimacy -- what do they each need and how do they need it? And kink too, the various ways they each want/need to give or receive so they all feel truly satisfied.

And of course they’ll be partners co-parenting. All of them.

I can see Tashi finally grieving her injury, the life she lost, and rediscovering her love of tennis, not to win, but for the joy of being on the court. Her sobs the first time she plays again and it’s not competitively, just a little volley, but it’s like she’s finally alive again. Reminding herself she’s a leader in tennis the space still, that she can build success in that world even without Art’s career, but maybe it looks different. I see a healed Tashi learning to enjoy teaching kids. Taking on more protege. And letting Art and Patrick come help at her tennis camps. 

Art retiring like he said he wanted, running the foundation as Tashi steps back. Realizing that he’s actually pretty good at this business thing and going back to school for a Master’s in nonprofit leadership. Meeting new people. Making friends (that aren’t Patrick). Getting invited to a pottery class and seeing he loves to work with his hands. Playing tennis with Patrick on the weekends.

And my heart for stay-at-home dad Patrick. Who always forgets to change over the laundry and leaves his keys everywhere and puts the babies' shoes on the wrong feet. But my god he loves those kids so goddamn much. Patrick learning to cook for the family and getting really good at it like he does anything he hyper-focuses on. Patrick finally having a home with the two people he loves most and figuring out how to create some routine and stability for himself within that container.

The love in that home. Ugh. I think it’s possible! I think they can do it! It just takes work. 

[vickyvicarious]

Ooh any thoughts on the pairs chosen and their tasks, for the final hunt?

I actually think I have a half-written post about exactly this lurking in my drafts from last year, though I will warn you that it contains spoilers for the journeys. Let me see if I can find it and finish it/clean it up a smidge... Ah. Yes. Here it is:

So, let's take a look at our travel arrangements. The team almost (but not quite) split up into the exact three options Mina listed for Dracula to follow. The only difference being that instead of "by road" we have "along the river." But still it's pretty close.

Each group has a sort of designated scribe who has historically been one of the main writers of the novel (more a meta necessity this, but given the heroes making such use of records it is still helpful to them if they wish to compile an account afterwards as well) as well as someone who will probably take the lead on vampire hunting, though where they can everyone will surely assist. They also have at least one person per group who can presumably make themselves understood by locals. I also added a 'caretaker' category because they're all running low on steam and it is an important consideration character-wise.

Basically this is just me taking a look at how each team is divvied up and why/what meta we could get out of it.

By Rail: Van Helsing and Mina

Scribe: Mina

Fighter: Van Helsing

Languages: Van Helsing

Caretaker: alternating

The two leaders. The brains if you will. They are heading straight to the castle. Van Helsing wants to kill the vampire women, and if he can get the jump on them/ambush them in their coffins it makes sense for him to do so rather than the younger men, whose strength is better saved for a possible direct confrontation with Dracula. And if anyone dies doing this, Van Helsing basically says better the old man who has already lived a long life. Keeping Mina further away from Dracula for as long as possible makes sense too in order to minimize what influence he can have upon her. Having her along to help find the castle as well will be useful, though it does mean she'll be brought in closer contact with his seat of operations and other vampires. But they've planned not to bring her into the castle itself.

The mode of transport is fitting for both of them. Mina of course IS the train fiend and so it's perfect for her to ride a train there. But Van Helsing too has spent a lot of time riding trains back and forth in the book to acquire information that can save a woman from becoming a vampire. Now his last train journey is in an effort to put that information into practice as he tries to save Mina from becoming a vampire/stop the spread by killing the other vampires. Not to mention of course Mina isn't really well and he is older so letting them take the relatively less taxing forms of transportation (train then carriage) makes sense. They both express concern for one another and work together to make sure the other is doing as well as they can throughout the journey as well.

Mina specifically traveling this way makes for a really cool transition from her utilizing the ultra-modern method to then traveling into the past almost as she echoes Jonathan's journey from the beginning of the book and also becomes more and more connected to vampirism/the vampire ladies (and by extent the ancient opposite of the modern civilization that the train represents). This rush to get there first also could reflect the two of them, but especially Mina, outthinking Dracula as they are ready to ambush him upon arrival.

Finally, Van Helsing was the most concerned over Mina's fate and was the one she put most in charge of deciding when she be killed... but he was meant to ensure Jonathan did the deed. So it makes for a really interesting pairing to put him there to make that final judgement but his own promise inclines him to put off action even if he thinks she's passed the point of no return. That said he still is trying really hard to have faith in her despite his doubts and fears, not just because of the promise.

By Land: Quincey and Jack

Scribe: Jack

Fighter: Quincey

Languages: Jack

Caretaker: none

Quincey volunteers early for this job. And Jack speaks up to join him because they work well together and have done things like this before. This actually makes them the only team to both do that, as Van Helsing argued for where Jonathan and Mina should both go. They are also the only pair who already know one another well pre-vampire hunting together.

While this is perhaps the least likely route to meet vampires (second-likeliest route to encounter Dracula, but the other group will almost certainly meet the vampire ladies) it is probably the most physically taxing. They're riding all day. Jack could theoretically be the caretaker here, as he is the doctor, but in reality they both are pressing on really hard and neither one is shown to be making sure the other gets enough rest or whatever. It kind of seems like they're setting a pace where they're both tired enough to just drop off when they get a chance.

Quincey is the leader among the two of them. He's the first to volunteer, and he seems very comfortable with horses and leading a hunt. However, in the larger context of his role in the group as a whole, he is very much the support, and while Jack has had a much larger role, when in the group he's generally support as well (though his trust with Van Helsing means he is usually more involved in discussions than Quincey). So it is fitting that these two are taking the "just in case" route - especially Quincey, who often does this sort of filling in where needed. Also fitting that they are bringing along horses for the others should they be needed. They're being the support team.

One more kind of interesting detail... this is the only group to actually travel with other people for a while, but also the group who talks to locals least. No meta point to this, just noticed it.

By Water: Arthur and Jonathan

Scribe: Jonathan

Fighter: Jonathan

Languages: Jonathan

Caretaker: Arthur

This list of roles makes it sound like Arthur isn't doing much. But that's far from true. It's quite possible he can communicate with locals as well (I just put Jonathan down as we know for a fact he can, though stiltedly) and he's proven himself in defeating a vampire in the past. Jonathan however is the main fighter, shown multiple times not to hesitate to attack Dracula. In fact though, Arthur's most important role here is as the caretaker and transport. He ensures that Jonathan gets the rest he needs, and he's the one not only to acquire the boat but the one who knows how to operate it. Not flawlessly, as we are told when there's a crash, but he's still essential in getting them up the river.

These two men following what seems to be the specific route Dracula took makes for some really interesting continuation of Jonathan's book-long acquisition/mimicry of Dracula's traits. The boat in the first place and then their impersonation of Romanian officials also is another instance of the repeated contrast of Arthur as the good (vis)count using his money and status to help, as opposed to Count Dracula or his alias De Ville using his status and money for evil.

It also is really fitting to pair Jonathan and Arthur together as the two husbands of the women Dracula has attacked. Arthur's reality could become Jonathan's future if they don't succeed here. There's some psychopomp imagery that got talked about a few years ago which can add another fun layer. The linked post there is focused mostly on Greek mythology, and talks more about this, but these two being the ones to travel up a river into a symbolic land of the dead (Dracula's land) is fitting in a couple ways too.

When convincing him to go with Arthur, Van Helsing invokes Jonathan's right to revenge as well. Mina aside, both of these two are the ones who have the most 'right' in that sense, as they've been most personally harmed by the Count. Arthur has gotten some measure of closure when staking Lucy at least, but Jonathan hasn't had anything of the sort. They're both "young and strong" and highly motivated.

.

Not to be reductive, but there's kind of a fun thing going on with head/hand/heart here if you want. Mina and Van Helsing are the new/old brains and each leaders in their own right. Quincey and Jack are both more supportive characters at least by this point in the book and one is shown to be a protector physically while the other is literally a doctor. Jonathan and Arthur are the lovers of the women attacked by Dracula, and also represent two different approaches to the idea of said love becoming a vampire (though again it's never fully realized in Jonathan's case, so presumably he could have gone either way should he be forced to actually make the choice).

Another fun detail when comparing all three... In each case, one person or another takes the lead at least some of the time. Mina and Van Helsing are the ones who alternate that role most. They both take turns looking after one another, driving the horses, and we even get written accounts from both of them. Jonathan and Arthur both take turns on watch but Arthur is the one who knows what he's doing on the ship and looking after Jonathan who is totally focused on leading the hunt. We don't hear much from the other two on their journey, but presumably Quincey is mostly in the lead - I say this because he historically has been in such circumstances (which Jack specifically mentioned when agreeing to go with him).

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 37

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: None! Enjoy!

Words: 3547

A/N: I have added a small part from the book Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman, and all credit goes to the original writer.

Lots of love, thank you for the support

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashionstyle-blog @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol @frieschan @popcatx0 @liz67900 @exfolitae @plexcaffeinate @strawblueberrys @massivelyfullenthusiast @iimichie

(open)

Previous:

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Namjoon looked at you gently, his eyes caring. The alpha reached for a book he had been reading for a while now, Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman.

The packalpha kept you close as you layed sweetly tucked away with Jimin and Jungkook on each side of you. The youngest alpha layed in front of you, his eyes sweet and caring on your form.

The young man wasn't able to go to sleep; he was far too worried about you to truly rest. Even when your scent has lifted by now and you don't seem as upset anymore, he was still worried in the back of his mind.

Instead, you just seemed tired and yawny and definitely had enough for the day. They all knew well why this happened and that it would be for the best if you would get to rest up for a while longer.

And so, when your hand reached up and nudged against Namjoon's, looking up at the packalpha with those eyes he learned to adore over time. Looking up at him in hope, he couldn't help but coo at you.

���Aigoo, aren't you just the cutest baby?" He said under his breath, smiling softly so that his dimples showed, letting his much bigger hand cover yours.

You squeezed his fingers slightly, letting your interwoven fingers rest next to you as Namjoon got into reading, his calming timber filling the large room.

"The two systems of thought can best be understood as separate and complementary modes of processing information.

System 1 operates automatically and quickly, without explicit attention or conscious effort or awareness. It operates on the basis of heuristics, the mental shortcuts that allow us to process and respond to the world with remarkable efficiency.

System 2, by contrast, is slow and effortful. It operates with deliberate attention, logical analysis, and conscious reasoning. Although we can voluntarily direct our attention and choose to engage System 2, in most instances, we rely on System 1.

The two systems work in tandem, but they do not work in harmony. System 1 often leads us astray because of its tendency to produce easy, quick, and emotionally pleasing responses that we accept without questioning.

System 2, by contrast, is capable of correcting the errors of System 1, but it takes time and effort to do so."

The packalpha's voice was gentle, calming your eyes as you watched Jungkook's rising and falling chest.

You rested calmly, the oldest of the three alphas settling you down even further. All of the plush and comfortable blankets and fabrics you were tucked away into felt comfortable on your skin.

You didn't understand everything Namjoon was reading to you about, but you found comfort in his presence, and while poetry was sometimes complicated with the language for you, you liked it a lot when he would read for you. And so you listened closely.

„Another key aspect of the two systems of thought is that they are influenced by different types of motivation. System 1 is motivated by the desire for immediate gratification and pleasure, whereas System 2 is motivated by the desire for accuracy and logic.

This means that our mental processes are often influenced by our goals and emotions, which can lead to biases and errors in our thinking and decision-making. It is important to be aware of these biases and to use System 2 to correct for them when possible.”

„Oppa?” You asked softly, playing with the packalpha's fingers as the man looked over to you, the book in hand that was borrowed from the library.

While the alpha owned stacks upon stacks of books, full bookcases in his room until he couldn't get any more, just stacking the stories onto themselves on the floor or any space available.

He has enjoyed going to the libraries since forever. He used to go there to study growing up, but he always loved reading, and the relationship developed as he grew older.

The man didn't get to go that often to see new stories as much as he wished he could, but whenever he could, he left with a bunch to read, even though he knew he wouldn't have enough time to read everything.

He loved visiting bookstores, especially whenever they went to different countries. Sometimes, his packmates would get angry at him for his suitcase going over the weight limit (even though he packed less to keep space for the books he would bring home! ).

„Hm?” He hummed softly, looking at you with soft eyes. He leaned closer to brush your hair behind your ear, smiling at you.

„Do you like cupcakes?" You asked almost in a whisper, your grip tightening onto his fingers.

Even when the mall trip didn't go as well as everyone hoped it might, you remember the sweet time you shared with Jimin earlier this morning when you and him baked.

The almond cupcakes with butter cream that you so carefully decorated and prepared with the sweet help of the alpha were still waiting in the fridge.

You weren't sure if any of the alphas had seen them yet or even had a bite or taste of them, but you really hoped that they would like them. They would, right?

„Of course I do, little pup, do you?” The packalpha wasn't sure where the question came from, but he watched you lovingly.

You nodded. The times when you got to have a sweet treat weren't many, but the last time you tasted a cupcake, probably in elementary school in a baking class, was a nice memory you kept.

„M-Me and Jimin-Oppa made cupcakes for every-one." You whispered softly, having Jungkook's sleepy eyes open wider, soon creasing as he smiled, his teeth showing.

Namjoon followed suit, his dimples on full display as he leaned over, leaving sweet pecks on your forehead.

„Really? Awh, babybun!” The youngest gushed, his arms wrapping you closer to his chest, having Jimin grumble lightly from his deep sleep.

The alpha slept calmly, with occasional soft snores leaving him. He felt content with you in his arms, your back right against his chest as he breathed calmly.

The third youngest made sure you were kept warm and cuddly, as during sleep his body naturally turned warmer as a natural reaction to your omega sleepy scent in close proximity for a longer time.

„That's so sweet of you, pup. Should alphas have a taste now?” The packalpha asked gently, not sure if that was what you wanted.

You nodded bashfully; you really wanted to see their reaction. Before you could say anything, Jimin woke up, lightly rising up as he blinked away his sleep.

„Hyung, you didn't tell me about making cupcakes with babybun!” Jungkook grumbled; he wanted to be the first one to cook with you. Though the eldest would surely be even more jealous,..

Jimin hummed, too sleepy to realise what he was necessarily saying, as he ruffled up his hair, looking over at the alpha, who sported a not too deeply meant frown.

To be truthful, the youngest alpha was still far too excited about the promised sweet treats to get really upset at his hyung for keeping away the exciting news, and he wasn't too upset in general either.

„Come on, bun bun, let's go!” The youngest said happily, picking you up quickly before Jimin could realise that you were suddenly out of his arms; he was already on his way.

The packalpha soon followed, chuckling at Jimin, who grumbled out a soft: What? as he watched you be carried away to the kitchen, closing the book and putting it away.

The two alphas who currently stood in the kitchen, Taehyung and Yoongi, preparing spring rolls, looked over, both smiling at seeing your still slightly dazed, ruffled-up state.

Both of the men had aprons on; the older was in charge of frying and preparing the few different fillings, while the younger helped with folding the spring rolls and making the side dishes.

„Hi kitty.” Yoongi said gently, his gummy smile on full display, as he turned back around to take out the crispy spring rolls.

They made three types, one vegetarian and the other two with meat. The first batch they prepared was already finished, with the filling consisting of cabbage, carrots, cilantro, garlic, and shallots with sesame oil and soy sauce, sugar, and a little rice vinegar and sriracha.

Taehyung was good with the folding; the rice paper never folded over itself, and he was clever in making sure to not place any of them too close to one another so when they would stick to one another.

„Babycheeks, do you want to have a taste? We are still making two more types; will you tell alphas which is your favourite?” You nodded sweetly, going over to the alpha, who smiled widely at you.

He picked up the still warm roll with chopsticks, dipping it into a sauce before he fed it to you, smiling as he saw you chew.

It was crispy but chewy, the filling delicious, and the sauce made the flavours pop even more. You nodded vigorously as you chewed, happy to have tasted something so nice.

„Is it a good kitten?” Yoongi asked gently, stirring the pan with the filling for another batch. This time it had shrimp and ground pork in it, along with fish sauce and some other things like cabbage and carrots.

„It's really tasty, oppa!” You exclaimed, your voice uplifted and happy, as you swallowed before speaking. You were very excited for dinner.

„Princess? Where did you go? ” Jimin's raspy voice from sleep mumbled, the alpha coming over to hug you close, letting his chin rest upon your head.

You hugged the alpha back, your arms wrapping around his waist. He kept you close, letting his scent go over you even more than had already happened.

„Hyung, the cupcakes!” Jungkook hoped to see them already, wanting to have a taste.

„Cupcakes?” Taehyung turned around from spooning the filling into the softening rice paper, his eyes filled with questions and a soft smile on his face. Yoongi looked over his shoulder too, but made sure to pay attention to the frying process.

"Yeah, pup and Jimin-ah made cupcakes for everyone this morning, right?” You nodded in response, agreeing with Namjoon's words. The alpha that helped you hummed softly, agreeing.

„You kept it secret, Hyung!" Tae gasped, acting as if Jimin had betrayed him. The older alpha chuckled.

„You don't have to eat them, Tae-ah." At his words, the younger gasped in offence, abandoning the now freshly folded spring roll and turning around, bewildered eyes on the older.

„Hyung!” 

„I'm just joking; don't stress yourself; you'll get white hair."

„You're older; if anyone, you'll be the one with white hair!"

As Jimin went to disagree, your soft giggles interrupted them instead, smiling at them.

„Oppa, look!” You said gently, holding a tray full of the baked cupcakes. Jungkook was already holding one as he chewed on it, and Namjoon was just taking one himself.

Before the two, playfully arguing alphas could realise what was happening, Yoongi himself walked over, praising your work. 

„They look really tasty, my kitten. Can I have one too?” He asked you gently, looking at the sprinkles and edible flowers you decorated the carefully done butter cream on top. 

„Of course oppa!” You said, the man smiling even wider at your answer, leaning over to give you a caring forehead kiss, letting his hands caress your cheeks before he took one of the corner ones too. 

„Bunny you have to bake more often, these are delicious!” Jungkook gushed, happily humming as he chewed, very pleased with the sweet treat. 

The youngest was used to keeping a strict diet in check, but he would always make an exception for you. Gosh, he would do anything if he would get to have such sweet treats everyday. 

It was fluffy, the batter rose so well, and the buttercream was airy and creamy, and overall a great mix of sweet and sour. 

„Oh wow...” Namjoon whispered, tasting the cupcake. Both Jimin and Taehyung bounded over by then, each grabbing one themselves. 

The younger hummed loudly, nodding at the taste, agreeing with everyone. 

„You're so clever babycheeks! Alpha is very proud.” He said softly, letting you set the tray onto the dining table before he hugged you close, his chin going over your head as he gently rubbed your arms. 

You smiled bashfully, not used to getting so many compliments. Just then Jin came inside, freshly showered with his hair only towel dried. 

The eldest packmember's cheeks were tinted pink and he wore comfortable clothes. He was quick to notice everyone in the room eating the sweet treat, looking for the source himself. Before he got to ask though, Jungkook already bounded over. 

„Hyung, have one too! Babybun and Jimin hyung made cupcakes, they are so good!” 

„Really? Aigoo, you're so sweet cub, making a sweet treat for everyone?” He gushed, crouching slightly before you as he pecked your forehead, Taehyung's arms still wrapped around you. 

„Oppa helped a-a l-lot...” You whispered softly, feeling bad that they were constantly complimenting you, but the alpha who helped you so much wasn't as praised. 

„No, no my princess. I only helped with the mixing, you did everything yourself!” Jimin was quick to let you know, as he smiled at you. The cupcakes were really tasty...

„Is that so? Aren't you just the most clever, little pup. Alpha is very proud of you.” The packalpha said gently, pouring himself a cup of water as he gently watched over you, leaning against the counter. 

Seokjin was quick to take one himself, and when he got the first bite of the sweet heaven, his eyes widened, quickly finishing the cupcake in a few bites. 

„Peaches it's really tasty! Let's bake more often baby, did you have fun?” At your smiley nod, he gently combed through your hair, already planning the different cakes and treats he would make with you. 

The alphas had you take a seat at the dining table, talking to you as they prepared all of the cutlery and plates, glasses and various dishes. 

„...Of course you can come with us little kitten, we wouldn't mind. You'll just have to make sure to stick close, okay?” You said an okay, looking forward to when they would take you to their group photoshoot tomorrow. 

The packalpha knew that it would require them being very careful, considering you would most likely be entering a slightly busy workspace, but they would always be close by to make sure you were okay. 

You would get a VIP pass, and would stick close, and surely you would be okay. Maybe, if you would feel like it, they could take a group photo with you too... 

When they would make an announcement, it might come in handy, to have a truly well photographed group picture with the whole pack to post online. 

They haven't really talked about when the news would be released to the public, they would have to discuss it with their managers too and set on a precise date.

Namjoon wasn't truly keen on making a structured, email-like message that would come from HYBE directly to the ARMY. Maybe mentioning it in a podcast or a radio show would be smarter and less in everyone's face.

Even when they hoped with every fibre of their being, there were bound to be people disagreeing with this, and so they needed to be careful with the backlash, especially the one purely directed at you.

He could only imagine how stressful this would be for you, and so as a well-structured pack, they knew it would be best for you to have as much time as needed.

They had to figure out more things beforehand anyway; for example, the den was important for everyone, and it would be sweet and precious to have a nice and calm Christmas and New Year too.

The pack has already planned a few upcoming trips and events with you; some they have discussed more, some left only in the back of their minds as an idea to share in the future.

And Jin had a small idea like this at the back of his head for a little while by now, and so, today while you were away at the mall and in the morning with Jimin, the oldest alpha found a little gap in his busy schedule for it.

He had voice training and dance practices pretty much the entire day and got home earlier this afternoon, but before then, he took a short trip to a few clothing boutiques, hoping to find something he was looking for.

The alpha was planning to buy you a swimsuit, but since he wasn't sure of your exact measurements, after a short discussion with the store assistant, he left the few luxury stores with different sizes and styles, hoping at least one of these would be comfortable enough for you to wear with no worries.

Jin didn't know what colours or patterns you would go for; heck, he didn't even know if you would like to go swimming with them. But surely, since you wanted to go to Hawaii to see the sea turtles, you wouldn't mind the water?

And so, the alpha was left with many decisions to face, but in the end, he chose enough of everything so he hoped to get it all covered.

He could imagine you being way too frightened to try swimwear on in the try-on rooms, and so his best bet was to save the receipts and return any that you wouldn't like and wouldn't fit right.

As you all took a seat at the table, a freshly purchased peach juice they knew you liked and wouldn't upset your tummy in a tall glass before you, all of the pack members dug in.

You had a few neatly placed spring rolls on your plate, along with some side dishes like kim-chi or the sweet radish Namjoon plated for you.

„It's really nice, oppa!” You gasped, having the second oldest who sat next to you show a gummy smile, the man saying a soft thank you.

Truth be told, Yoongi was on his knees for you.

„...And what about the Harry Potter series?” You shook your head at Jimin's question, the man's eyes widening.

„We have to watch it, princess! I think you would love it!” He gasped, and Jungkook and Hoseok, who'd come over to the table as soon as the dinner was served, nodded at his thought.

„How about we watch one of the movies tonight, Sunny Bub?" He asked you gently, taking another fried roll into his chopsticks before he placed it on your table, noticing that you only had about two left.

You nodded happily, smiling widely with your eyes creasing slightly.

„Okay...” You said softly, looking forward to the movie. The dinner continued, with everyone enjoying the well-prepared meal.

„Cub?” You looked up from drinking, your eyes meeting Jin's gaze for a little second before you set the glass down, the alpha's sweet eyes watching over you. You hummed in question, listening.

„Would you like to go swimming with alphas tomorrow? We don't have to if you don't want to,-" though, the older man was interrupted by your vigorous nodding and excited gaze.

You didn't swim in years; honestly, you weren't too good at it, but there was always something about it that seemed so fun and calming to you, unless you weren't in too much of a deep water, of course.

"B-But, oppa, I don't have a swi-msuit..." You mumbled, only now remembering.

„It's okay, baby, I went to look for some this morning. Would you like to see them?” You gasped quietly before you nodded happily, sliding off of your chair before you hurried over to the oldest alpha.

Jin took your hand in his, and the other pack members smiled sweetly at your excitement as they started to clean up the table, happy that your mood had lifted even after the terrible afternoon.

„Are we going swimming in the morning then?” Taehyung asked. They would have to leave by ten in the morning at the latest to go for the photoshoot, and they would most likely come back home late in the evening.

„I think so, yeah..." Namjoon said patiently, loading the dishwasher with the others.

„I'm not going to swim in the ice cold morning hell no-” Yoongi went to grumble. Why would he go swimming when he could be sleeping?

„But Hyung, have you seen Sunny's face? She is so excited!” Hoseok gasped, looking at the older man in disbelief. That would break your heart!

Yoongi sighed, closing his eyes for a little while. Sometimes, he would have to sacrifice his sleep for something—or rather, someone—more important.

„...fine.” 

The alpha grumbled, shaking his head as he left to go to his room and shower, already expecting them to rest once again together. You would probably fall asleep during the movie, as he could imagine.

Truly, he loved to rest and nap with you on any occasion. You were naturally sleepy and cuddly, and so the alpha that was able to fall asleep anywhere loved to keep you company while you rested.

Yoongi has truly gone soft for an omega—something he didn't think could ever happen to him.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Next:

[avocado-writing]

Ohh just thought of a really fun idea :] can I maybe have (can be less if you don't want to do three people) Wrench, Electra and Krupp with a steam engine reader that has been radio silent for a while and when they show back up they've been forcefully converted to electricity as they had a bad crash and they were so badly gone the only way to be saved was to be converted

~ @gears-twisting-and-turning

Oooo ok! kinda an angsty one, here goes (I’m still open for stex x reader rqs!)

Electra is… torn. They loved you when you were a steam engine anyway, even though they’re a bit of an elitist (you can’t be surrounded by that many components and not be). They go into panic mode when they don’t hear from you for a few days, their components unsuccessfully trying to calm them, but then… there you are. All shiny and new and different. All they can do is embrace you and get you to tell them everything that happened, reassuring you over and over that it will all be okay. They’ll be there for as long as it takes you to get used to your new electric body. They realise in that moment they’d love you no matter how you look.

Wrench tries to keep in her emotions but begins to panic when she doesn’t hear from you. One night she decides to seek you out after sneaking away from her fellow components, and she finds you just recovering from your operation. From then on she takes it on herself to be your nurse, barely even mentioning that anything’s changed but always at your bedside as you get better. When you ask if she still likes you she grips your hand and tells you not to be so silly. You never mention it again, but she’s never away from your side. In fact she ends up being your component more than Electra’s…

Krupp is furious that he let this happen to you. It’s his job to keep people safe and he failed. He can’t face you for a while as he’s so busy torturing himself over it all, and eventually you have to be the one to find him. It’s a very long and emotional conversation where you have to tell him your accident was nobody’s fault, and he reassures you he’d love you no matter what sort of train you were. You come out of it stronger than ever!

[sleekervae]

Solo Mode [8] jackson wang x fem!oc

Masterlist

Pairing: jackson wang/fem!oc

Summary: heather and the third degree

Warnings: children, childcare

Word Count: 1.9k

Theo was finally out, curled into a blanket burrito on the couch, clutching a lime-green monster truck like it owed him money. The living room had quieted, the chaos of toddler energy distilled into a soft white noise hum of sleep.

Heather padded into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on, rubbing at her eyes like the last thirty minutes hadn’t just aged her a year. Jackson followed, oddly quiet, like he didn’t want to spook the stillness they’d earned.

“We did it,” he whispered dramatically. “Operation Toddler: success.”

Heather snorted as she grabbed a mug. “Speak for yourself. I think I lost a piece of my soul somewhere between Truck Three’s dramatic backstory and Truck Five’s existential crisis.”

Jackson leaned against the counter, arms folded, watching her with a kind of easy amusement she refused to find charming. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“Don’t try to compliment me,” she warned, half a glare as she poured boiling water over a sad, off-brand teabag. “I’m still deciding whether to reward you or throttle you for making my two-year-old nephew laugh so hard he snorted milk.”

He grinned. “That’s just good comedy.”

She gave him a look. “Seriously, though. Where did you learn to be like that with kids?”

“What, patient? Or hilarious?”

“Patient,” she said pointedly. “The hilarious part’s still up for debate.”

Jackson chuckled and reached for a glass, filling it from the sink. “My cousins back home used to dump their kids on me when they needed a night out. I had no choice but to learn. You get good at it or you get eaten alive.”

Heather raised a brow. “And you just… stuck with it?”

“I liked it,” he said, shrugging. “I still do. Kids are easy.”

She sipped her tea, skeptical. “That’s not something normal people say.”

He glanced over, met her eyes. “They don’t pretend to be someone they’re not. You always know where you stand. That’s rare.”

Heather looked away too quickly. The water in her mug was still steeping, bitter.

“Well,” she said lightly, “color me surprised. I assumed the only thing you babysat was your reflection.”

Jackson grinned. “You wound me.”

She glanced at him, reluctant, heat crawling up her neck. “Let me guess. You also rescue abandoned puppies in your free time. Run a nonprofit for endangered sea life. Build schools in remote villages.”

He leaned in slightly. “Is this your way of asking if I’m rich and virtuous?”

“It’s my way of asking if I should be suspicious of how good you are at this.”

“I don’t have a secret child, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said with a smirk. “No hidden nursery. No scandal. Just me.”

Heather narrowed her eyes. “No private island?”

“Not yet,” he said smoothly. “But when I get one, you’ll be the first to not be invited.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t hide the small smile curling at the corner of her mouth. “Charming.”

“Only when you’re watching.”

That made her pause—just a blink—but enough for him to see it. She hated how fast her pulse picked up.

“You know,” he said, quieter now, “you didn’t peg me for the type to fix your laptop. Or keep a secret. Or…” He hesitated, lips twitching. “Make you come so hard you forgot your name.”

Her breath caught, despite herself.

“Wow,” she muttered. “You really had to go there.”

“Honesty is one of my many annoying traits,” he replied, his voice soft, almost teasing.

“God.” She rolled her eyes and turned toward the kitchen. “You’re ridiculous.”

He followed, like some six-foot-tall golden retriever, barefoot and quiet on her floor. “You like it.”

“No,” she said, rooting through the fridge for a juice box she swore was in there. “I tolerate it. Big difference.”

Behind her, she heard him shift, felt the sudden stillness. “So what was it?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “What was what?”

“That night.”

Heather froze. The fridge light buzzed. She shut the door carefully and faced him, arms crossed. “Are we doing this now?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “You’ve been acting like it didn’t happen.”

“We agreed that it didn't.”

He gave her a crooked, lopsided smile. “Is that your way of saying it meant nothing?”

“We also agreed that it didn't.”

“But you’re thinking it.”

She stared at him. “Why do you care?”

“Because you kissed me like you meant it,” he said. “And then left like it broke your rules. I just wanna know which part was the lie.”

Heather’s breath caught. He said it so easily—like they were having a conversation about pizza toppings. But there was weight behind it. Something real and maddeningly sincere.

“You’re not supposed to be like this,” she muttered.

“Like what?”

“Like… an actual person.”

Jackson blinked. “Wow. That’s flattering.”

She grimaced. “You know what I mean. You’re a walking ego with a nice face. You’re not supposed to care about my nephew or ask complicated questions or—” Her voice cracked a little. “Or look at me like that.”

He took a step closer. Just one. “Like what?”

“Like you can't look away,” she said, almost too quietly.

Jackson’s expression softened. The smirk faded, replaced by something careful, curious, quietly dangerous.

“Because I can't,” he said. “And I like what I see. Even when you’re yelling at me. Especially when you’re yelling at me.”

Heather laughed under her breath, nervous and breathless. “Do you always flirt with women who find you insufferable?”

“Only the hot ones.”

She should’ve pushed him away. Told him to go. Told him she had code to write, a reputation to salvage, a nephew asleep not twenty feet away, and no time for beautiful men with complicated smiles.

But instead, she just stood there, hands trembling slightly, heart a mess of knots and static.

“You’re annoying,” she whispered.

Jackson grinned. “So are you.”

Before Heather could summon a half-answer—before she could come up with something deflective or vaguely witty or self-protective—the buzzer shrieked through the apartment.

She flinched. Theo stirred on the couch but didn’t wake.

“Oh, thank God,” she muttered, setting her mug down again and heading for the intercom.

She pressed the button. “Yeah?”

“It’s me,” came Jessica’s voice. “Can you buzz me up?”

Heather gave Jackson a look—half warning, half apology—and hit the buzzer.

Moments later, Jessica stepped into the apartment carrying a tote bag, hair still damp from the hospital shower, exhaustion clinging to her like static. She looked like someone who’d spent the last eight hours handing out medication and pretending not to loathe humanity.

Then she saw Jackson.

Her eyes flicked from him to Heather and back again.

“Oh,” Jessica said, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear. “I didn’t realize you had… company.”

Heather resisted the urge to throw herself out the window.

Jackson, to his credit, gave a polite, nonchalant nod. “Hey.”

Heather sighed, "This is Jackson."

Jessica glanced again at Heather, her expression a careful blend of sisterly suspicion and professional skepticism. “Are you… friends?”

Heather crossed her arms, leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. “Neighbours. He was just leaving.”

Jackson shot her a quick look, amused, and maybe a little impressed.

Jessica blinked, processing. “Right. Okay. Well, I hope Theo was okay?”

"Absolute angel," Jackson grinned, "Didn't slingshot trucks at any faces."

“Only mine,” Heather muttered.

Jessica eyed her, but said nothing. Instead, she walked over to the couch to check on her son, her hands suddenly busy. Heather could feel the questions bubbling under her sister’s skin like carbonated judgment.

“I should get going,” Jackson said, the words directed vaguely at the room.

Heather didn’t meet his gaze. “Don’t let the door hit you.”

He laughed under his breath and headed for the exit, pausing just long enough to glance at her one last time—like maybe he still wanted an answer.

She didn’t give him one.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Jessica arched an eyebrow. “So... he's... pretty.”

Heather grabbed her tea again, pretending to sip. “You can call him that, sure.”

Jessica smirked. “Since when has he lived here?”

"No idea."

Jessica didn't buy it for a second. She turned away from Theo, who was still snoring like a little lawnmower on the couch, and leveled a look at Heather. “You don’t know when your next-door neighbor moved in?”

“I don’t track my neighbors like some kind of suburban spy,” Heather replied, backing into the kitchen and immediately pretending to fuss with the kettle, even though she already had tea. “Some of us have jobs.”

“Mmm.” Jessica followed, slow and calculating. “And yet somehow you do know he plays with monster trucks and is apparently cool with babysitting duties.”

“He just stopped by.”

Jessica’s eyes gleamed. “Just wandered in, huh?”

“He heard Theo crying. Through the wall.” Heather opened a cabinet. Then closed it. Then opened the fridge again, because why not look at oat milk she didn’t need.

“Right. Through the wall. Like some kind of hot neighbor-batman with excellent hearing.”

“Jessica.”

Her sister laughed, bumping her hip against Heather’s. “Okay, fine. I’ll drop it. For now.”

“Thank you.”

Beat.

“But, like—just as a public safety concern—are we absolutely sure you haven’t been harboring some long-repressed crush and now it’s rearing its very charming, very sculpted head?”

Heather snapped the fridge door shut. “Don’t you have medicine to count or something?”

Jessica grinned. “Oh, this is better than morphine.”

“Jess—”

“Look, I’m just saying, you’ve been tense lately. With your work -- I mean, it's stressful. It wouldn’t kill you to—”

“To what?” Heather turned, finally looking her sister in the eye. “Sleep with the first hot guy who smirks at me?”

Jessica paused. “I was gonna say unwind. But… noted.”

Heather sighed and sank into a kitchen chair. “Sorry. I just… it’s complicated.”

Jessica’s voice softened. “He seemed… nice.”

“He’s not.” Heather’s voice was automatic. Too fast.

Another beat of silence. Theo muttered something in his sleep and rolled over, hugging a plush tow truck.

Jessica raised both eyebrows. “Is that why you’ve got bedroom-eyes and he looked like he wanted to kiss you goodbye?”

Heather buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God.”

Jessica laughed, delighted. “Okay, okay. I’m done. But for real—be careful. And maybe let yourself live a little?”

Heather peeked through her fingers. “You done preaching?”

“For now. But I want the full story next brunch.”

“Brunch is cancelled forever.”

Jessica blew her a kiss and went to scoop up her snoring toddler. Heather watched them go, heart still rattling in her chest, Jackson’s laugh echoing in her skull like it had moved in and set up shop.

And somehow, despite herself, she already knew: this was only going to get messier.

[pedrocomicreviews]

Ultimate Spider-Man #15

“I just wanted you to know that I’m an admirer of your work. But strong words… they elicit a strong response.”

God, man, cancel every other Spider-book, this is it right here, this is all I need.

The Parkers are on vacation! Which really means, the Parkers are running away after Spider-Man’s fight with the Sinister Six went awry. There’s a lot of smart storytelling choices here:

One, this doesn’t really drive a rift between Peter and MJ, or his family in general. They are happily married and supportive– she knew what she was getting into, he knew what he was doing when involving her, and the whole family is making the best out of a horrible situation. 

Two, we are skipping any pretense that Richard won’t simply keep using the black suit, and Peter is immediately in training and guidance mode. This won’t last, probably, but for now it means we have what we actually want: A Spider-Man and Spider-Boy setup that’s… I mean, more interesting than the regular one, I guess is what I’m saying.

And three, this isn’t a filler arc. This is how the story is evolving, because the actual story is happening with Ben and JJJ. 

And listen, I'll be honest, all I want to do is talk about Ben and JJJ. They are by far my favorite characters in this book and I could read about them forever. But I do need to mention: I very much appreciate how clear and character-driven the black suit conflict has been, and how it can only end one day. A good story isn’t just one that surprises you, it’s one that makes you excited for things you can see coming, and excited for how they’ll subvert some of your expectations, but not all of them.

It is increasingly clear the black suit will develop ideas about what Peter Parker should be and how he should act, and this will likely lead to this world’s Venom being a lot different than how Venom has been historically. Instead of taking the OG Ultimate Universe's approach of “Yeah it’s just some goop”, this is connecting Spider-Man and Venom at the hip in a way that I haven’t seen before. 

Instead of a toxic relationship, it’s a well-meaning member of the family who will inevitably fail them in a moral way, even if it saves their lives. I’m so excited to get there, and this issue’s introduction of Ultimate Sandman shows us the seeds we planted all the way back in the first arc when the suit started speaking are germinating nicely.

But enough about Spider-Man! Who cares about Spider-Man! Holy shit, Uncle Ben rules!

Ben and Jonah continue their journalistic war against Kingpin and the Maker’s Council’s operations in New York, and it escalates quickly. The confrontation and characterization of these tough old men going against the world is by far the highlight of the issue, and has been the most interesting throughline in the entire project.

Because, look, one of these people has to die, and it probably can’t be Ben. But every other issue flirts with the idea that his life is constantly in danger, in very serious, very real ways that would make it feel earned if he were to die. And imagine that: imagine caring that Uncle Ben dies in the year of our Lord 2025. Can you imagine a story that actually makes you give a shit about a plot point that happened so long ago, it’s basically a joke we tell each other nowadays? Something that has become so normalized, it’s been ascended into a description of canon that veers into biblical? 

And that’s to say nothing about his relationship to Jonah, which is an entirely new invention for this universe and feels so, so natural. These feel like characters who were always supposed to interact; hell, these feel like Batman and Robin, almost. I can’t describe it any other way than it feels like the 616 versions we have are alternate universe counterparts to these real ones; that it feels as if they were made to bounce one from the other, and that we’re dealing with the aftermath of an arc that separated them in regular Spider-Man books. 

Genuinely, if you have not given Ultimate Spider-Man a shot, give Ultimate Uncle Ben and JJJ a shot. It’s tough to find their book because they keep saying Spider-Man is in there too, but don’t get distracted. This is where the real storytelling is and this is where Hickman’s penchant for verbose, deep dialogue is shining the brightest. 

Ultimate Spider-Man continues to be peak, I can’t wait for next month’s update on The Paper.