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lovecolibri · 1 year

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SaL anon here friend and this week's song was a STRUGGLE!! There were so many good ones to choose from, so I'll tell you how I narrowed it down (which literally no one but you might care about). First, i wanted something that felt mostly joyous, because that was how the episode ended, on a note of mutual healing and peace. Second, i wanted something that could apply to either TK or Carlos since their issues were ultimately the same this time, wrestling with needing "fixing" and how they both

ended up being the other's source of healing. So with that in mind, i went this week with One. We've mentioned before how intense Ryan's elongated "i" in the when he sings just hits so many feelings. And with lyrics like "every imperfection is a lie" and "the price of this so called perfection is everything" and of course the chorus (whether you take grace to be religious or something simple like understanding). It's about letting yourself be a mess and it felt appropriate.

Hi my friend! I am banging this out before bed because I promised it would be done before the episode tomorrow and this is the first chance I've had since you sent it. I think this is an excellent choice and I love your reasoning on how you narrowed it down! With all the angst it looks like Tarlos will be having in the next couple weeks, I think picking a thoughtful but ultimately joyful song was the right choice. So let’s dig in!

hold on for a minute, ‘cause i believe that we can fix this over time, that every imperfection is a lie. or at least an interruption... now hold on, let me finish. no, i’m not saying perfect exists in this life, but we’ll only know for certain if we try.

Okay, I adore Carlos, but while he seemed so put together in season 1, we’ve seen over time how he has this need for control and a...I wouldn’t say “obsession” but a fixation on presenting a perfect image to the world. Which given he’s a gay Latino in Texas isn’t surprising since he likely had to be twice as good as everyone to be half as respected, plus his dad definitely added pressure to live up to a certain standard, and still seemed to think it wasn’t enough and Carlos wasn’t cut out for the job he has as an officer much less his dream of detective. So this song is really such a good one for him especially (also, ones being that type A personality, the C Major key, 120pbm tempo, and the percussion being made with household cleaning tools all just fit so well!). However we see a lot of TK also putting up that “front” of perfection, starting at the 126 and pretending everything was fine and finding out 3 episodes in that he’s just been totally numb but has been masking it from everyone. Where Carlos falls on the “I can’t let anyone know I’m not perfect at all times” side of striving for perfection, TK falls on the “everyone KNOWS I’m a mess, so I have to constantly be proving myself” side. Two sides of the same coin really. Which leads us nicely into the chorus!

i want to sing a song worth singing, i’ll write an anthem worth repeating. i want to feel the transformation, the melody of reformation.

WOW is this a good fit for these two! Both of them want to leave a lasting impression, to feel like they’ve done something worth remembering, and also they are both seeking transformation in this front of being perfect. Carlos, from what he perceives is, if not a full rejection then certainly not a celebration and acceptance, of his identity, and TK from his addiction and the person he was under the influence.

but the list goes on forever, of all the ways i could be better, in my mind. as if i could earn God’s favor given time, or at least “congratulations”...

now, i have learned my lesson; the price of this so-called perfection is everything. i’ve spent my whole life searching desperately to find out that grace requires nothing of me.

*cries in Tarols* The way both of them keep doing amazing things and keep thinking it’s not enough, it will never be enough to “make up” for who they are...brb gotta go cry into a pillow for an hour about them. BUT we are starting to see that growth for them and how they have learned that the front they’ve put up of perfection was keeping them from being truly seen by their partner and ultimately they lost each other over it with the breakup that started s3. Now you KNOW those last two lines are some of my favorites and I get chills every time, and this time is no different! 4x02 showed us the two of them on the same page, being vulnerable with each other without it being A Big Event, just being able to talk things out and move forward and I love, love, love that for them and for us!

i want to sing a song worth singing, i’ll write an anthem worth repeating. i want to feel the transformation, the melody of reformation.

i’ll hold it all more loosely, and yet somehow much more dearly, ‘cause i’ve spent my whole life searching desperately to find out that grace requires nothing. grace requires nothing of me.

We have seen several seasons of TK being so scared to lose Carlos and while I think we are going to see both of them being tested this week and next, it was so, so, so good to see Carlos drop SUCH a huge bombshell on TK and to see TK take it in stride and make sure Carlos felt heard, and supported, and loved, but he didn’t shy away from sharing his insecurities when they did come up. Carlos for his part WAS worried about telling TK and we know TK stepping back from the relationship has been an issue for them before, but he still did it and it actually went really well! We are seeing the growth even from s3 and the sponsor situation where they are holding their relationship “more loosely, and yet somehow much more dearly” because they have gotten to the point where they aren’t clinging on for dear life just hoping it was enough. They are confident that what they have built is REAL and STRONG and they know what they want moving forward.

This song isn’t long but it has such depth and feeling and the gentle vulnerability of “i’ve spent my whole life searching desperately to find out that grace requires nothing of me” just strikes me down every time. It’s about the acceptance that you don’t HAVE to be perfect all the time and the ones that love you, love ALL the parts of you, without you having to “polish” or “tidy” them up. And for two men who have spent their lives trying to live up to certain expectations, it must be such a relief that they’ve found a relationship they can find rest in, and where they can be themselves and know they are loved.

It’s past my bedtime now so I’ll wrap it up, but this was SUCH a good choice for this week, and I hope that whatever happens in the rest of the season reinforces this idea for them that they are enough as they are. Thanks for facing The Struggle and picking the perfect song for this week. Cheers to the new episode tomorrow and fingers crossed for some delicious angst!

#my sweet nonnie friends #sleeping at last anon #911 lone star #lone star spoilers #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #sleeping at last #one

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keefwho · 1 day

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April 25 - 2024

11:01pm

6/10

This morning I wiped down my sink, mirror, and toilet. My bathroom is pretty clean overall now. I took a nice long shower where I sat and enjoyed the hot water for a bit. For breakfast I made tuna spaghetti with a pineapple cup. After eating I tasted the bone broth I left on overnight and it definitely was more brothy but I did not like the taste much. It didn't smell appealing either and I had been whiffing it all day yesterday and this morning so I was very unappetized by it. I turned the crockpot off and planned on throwing it out later. Right before stream I remembered that I needed drinks from the store so mom took me immediately. It means I didn't get time to prepare myself for conversation starting with a stranger in person so I didn't do that this time. I did talk to mom though in a more open way than usual so that counts for something.

For work I warmed up with bats which as usual were interesting to draw in their own way. They also reinforced the idea that most animals really do come in only 2 or 3 poses. I finished the Venus commission today and a couple YCHs someone bought. I was feeling frisky on stream and had the idea to take a small hit of my pen so that I could do something fun after I was done working. I ended a little early since I didn't have anything else to do. I had a pretty good time doing my thing and I had a little help. For lunch I made a dinty moore beef stew with some little pasta added. I joined TK and friends while eating and watched them play Totally Accurate Battlegrounds. I didn't talk much, I was still a teensy bit high and was just chilling.

During my afternoon hours I finished a drawing of Pipp based on an idea request I got. It doesn't seem to have gotten great reception and I wasn't totally happy with how it came out either. I think for future requests I'm going to tone back the quality in favor of experimenting with capturing the raw energy of the idea more. Better composition/posing and all that. After that I left the VC and worked on the Mr Bean world a bit. I mostly starting texturing everything and was very slow because I was pretty done for the day. But what matters is that I did it.

When everything was done I took a little time to just watch a stream I enjoyed. I also did a little bit of video editing/organizing. I put together simple graphs for the excel sheet DS and I have for tracking our puzzle statistics. Then I had Twitch open and played horse game for a little bit. When DS was free she showed me how she airbrushed lips and nostrils onto her fursuit head which came out good. We watched the Nature and Numb episodes of Moral Orel which were both VERY heavy, much more than I imagined they'd be. I feel like I should have felt more uncomfortable with the drunk father situation really hitting home but I either got over that for real, suppress it very deeply, or just wasn't in the mood today. I'd like to believe I've made my peace with it. I already had my dad-hating phase and have since forgiven him for his past actions. The episodes also sparked religious conversation and a story of DS's degrading grandmother which I remember hearing before.

In bed we smoked puzzles and I grinded levels in KH2. We talked a lot about self worth and body image and being homies. I love conversations like that, ones that happen between people connecting over the struggles of life. And I love showing my support the best way I can because of how important other's support has been to me and my own improvement.

#journal #diary

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firedragon1321 · 1 year

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HEY WHO WANTS SOME FUNNY BADFIC LINES?

I torture myself with badfic sometimes. There used to be a LiveJournal for posting this kinda stuff, but who uses LJ anymore? Here is a fine collection of horrible badfic lines and author’s notes, for your viewing pleasure.

Most of these are from Digimon fic. Some of these are NSFW, or from a NSFW source.

THE FIC LINES (SFW)

“Then Myotismon then said," I think that’s enough damage for one day, ciao!..."

Myotismon, Digimon

This one’s from a Digimon Mary Sue fic. Myotismon- a villain who wants to kill the child protagonists- kills only the Sue. The canon characters mourn the Sue. He has them at his mercy. But then he does...this. This is one of my personal favorites, but I never noticed there’s two “thens” in that sentence until tonight.

“You like what you see, Hugh? Come get it, come get your birthday gift. That’s right; you’re getting an ass as your birthday present. Who needs a Wii U when you’ve got an ass?”

Nate, Pokemon

I need to stop reading bad/OOC fic on purpose. But lines like this make it all worth the suffering. The succulent line “Who needs a Wii U when you’ve got an ass” made me break out laughing- hard. The rest of the fic was OOC crap, BTW.

“What the HELL ARE You Doing You Motherfukers! It was. Dumbledore!”

Dumbledore, Harry Potter My Immortal

This is one of the classics of badfic. I read it in one night. A skunk sprayed outside, providing an odor to enhance my reading experience. I went a little crazy and remember nothing but the famous introduction and this line. A pure gem.

"Stop calling Lexaeus my mom, it just creepy. I mean he's like almost 7 foot and hell of buff!"

Axel, Kingdom Hearts

I vaguely remember this fic was some kind of Soriku/AkuRoku Double Power Hour where Sora and Roxas were catboys or something. This line- like many of the other zingers- comes in out of fucking nowhere. Yes, Axel- Lexaeus is “hell of buff”. I also know the image is technically of Lea, but KH3 graphics are pretty.

“He smiled, before pulling off his plaid shirt. Don't worry, he had a white t-shirt underneath.”

Prose, Digimon

I used to do a lot of MSTs of Digimon fanfics. The Myotismon quote was from one of my victims. So is this one, which was a Stufic. The Stu’s target was Mimi. They were hanging out or going to bed or- God knows what. The author pulled the story to a full fucking stop to tell the reader about this white t-shirt. Just in case they thought things were getting too racy. The fic was rated K on fanfiction dot net.

“Mimi's eyes widened as she watched the older man grab Izzy's neck viciously as the man grabbed a rifle from his pocket and held it threateningly against the younger boy's head.”

Prose, Digimon

Another old MST victim. Yes, you read right. A thug pulled a full-size rifle out of his pocket. I had to stop my MST for two solid minutes because- no? I think the author meant a small handgun, not a fucking rifle. Fun fact- the minimum length of the barrel for a rifle is sixteen inches. This is equal to stuffing a standard ruler and then some in your pocket!

““DORA! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Screams Annie way too overdramatically.”

Prose, Digimon

This was another Suefic. Not sure if I actually MSTed this one. Anyone who knows Digimon knows that- right before crossing into the Digital World- your regular Joe experiences some freaky electronic behavior. A television playing Dora the Explorer- to the delight of some teenagers- zapped out, leading to this little gem.

"I had them not shoot you for the soul purpose to annoy you."

Leomon, Digimon

This fic was an MST fic and I fucking hated it. It was made by non-Digimon fans if I remember correctly, who made everyone OOC and stupid. And used “knave” as an insult a lot. Leomon was an antagonist- not sure if he was under Devimon’s control- and he summoned cupids to make the DigiDestined fall in love with random bullshit. TK was spared this gruesome fate. When he questions why, Leomon drops this zinger.

“He then kicked Gatomon a few feet (Because I hate Gatomon and so does Koushiro.) “

Prose, Digimon

Same fic as above. I forgot to mention the Author’s Notes liked to butt in at times, too.

"Sorry Miss Luna, but there are no breaks form learning your education,"

Teacher, Digimon

MST Suefic victim. This one is just a grammar mess. It looks like something Google Translate might write if it was allowed to make a fanfic. No- let’s not wish that into reality.

“He decided to act like a complete wigga and moonwalked home at 45 miles an hour.”

Prose, Beyblade

This was the most terrible Beyblade crackfic I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be a slur in there? The moonwalking bit was what got to me, in addition to the very specific speed. The fic gets even worse. That gem of a line is in the NSFW section.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?! RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?!"

"Samus... there's no sal-"

"DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT A MEME IS!?"

Link and Samus, Smash Brothers

I honestly remember nothing about this fic except this line.

THE BEST POKEMON BATTLE EVER

(Note- I didn’t bold anything to avoid eye strain. The battle below is presented uncut in its entirety, to deliver maximum pain. Enjoy!)

+++++++++++++++++

"Let's get started, shall we?"

"Okay," Rosa said, moving away from Elesa to get their battle started. "Go, Emboar!" Rosa said, releasing an Emboar holding a Quick Claw.

"Go, Zapdos!" Elesa said, releasing a shiny Zapdos. "Thunderbolt, Zapdos!"

"Flare Blitz!"

Doing as told, the Emboar ignited himself, then he rushed towards Zapdos to tackle it. The Fire-type move instantly knocked Zapdos, but it costed a bit of Emboar's health.

"Impressive, I say. Go, Raikou!" Elesa said, and she released Raikou. "Thunderbolt!"

"Flare Blitz, again!"

The Emboar's Quick Claw didn't activate this time as Raikou attacked first with Thunderbolt, easily blacking Emboar out. "Go, Haxorus!" Rosa said, releasing Haxorus. "Outrage!"

"Hidden Power (Ice), Raikou!"

The Raikou's Hidden Power wasn't enough to knock Haxorus out as Haxorus retaliated with Outrage, knocking Raikou out as Elesa stomped her foot.

"Damn," Elesa cursed.

"Almost out of Pokemon?" Rosa asked.

"Yep, let's see what happens next!" Elesa replied.

After releasing her last Pokemon, a Magnezone holding a Life Orb, Elesa yelled, "Hidden Power (Ice)!"

Rosa didn't order her Haxorus to use a move since Outrage forces Haxorus to use it again. After getting hit, the Magnezone used Hidden Power to knock Haxorus out.

"I'm almost out too," Rosa said.

"Then let's finish this," Elesa said.

"Okay. Go, Sigilyph!" Rosa said, and she entered a shiny Sigilyph in battle. "Use Heat Wave, Sigilyph!"

"Avoid Heat Wave, then use Thunderbolt!"

Failing to avoid the Sigilyph's Heat Wave, the Magnezone blacked out and Rosa jumped up and down in joy, celebrating over a win against a Gym Leader.

THE FIC LINES (NSFW)

"She just walked away licking off your semen like it was gameshow slime."

Sora, Digimon

MST victim again. “She” is Kari and “your” is Tai. Yep- it was one of those fics. The fic was later revealed to be a deconstruction of ero-fics, exonerating it of all crimes. But this line remains, like a bad taste in your mouth.

"With my Viagra pills of the gods, anything is possible."

Palutena, Kid Icarus

This was...special. The fic was set up to be a Pit/Palutena fic, then abruptly bait-and-switched into Pit/TWINBELLOWS. This line explains why Twinbellows is willing to participate in a union straight from the Underworld.

“Jizztacular!“

Pit, Kid Icarus

Same fic as above. You can probably imagine when this line comes into play.

"Whut are you fuck'un norms looking at!" roared Granpa, his 134 inch knob swaying out in front like a barge pole. "GAY PRIDE WORLD WIDE!"

Ryu Granger, Beyblade

This is the same fic as the moonwalk line and hoo boy. I told you it got worse. How to make it even worse? Every single major male character is lined up behind him and- well, I’m sure you can figure out the rest.

THE AUTHOR’S NOTES

“this is a sentence that makes no sense for you enjoyment.“

AN, Kingdom Hearts

This is from a response to a PM from an anti, who wasn’t happy about the author sexualizing the underage characters. The author broke down the PM- itself poorly written- in a nasty, mocking way, making an ass out of the anti. This was part of that response, and perhaps the only redeeming quality of the exchange.

“My grandmother was a poet (she taught me to read, too!) and she watches over me from the Good Place The Good People Go. She watched me write all 12+ words of this. Do you think YOU can shame me, internet puritans? Do you really? No one can shame me or stop me. The only thing that can stop me is running out of tea.”

AN, Beyblade

This is similar to the AN above. It’s more of a general response to antis than a direct attack on one person. This line made me lose my mind laughing. Remember- it’s okay to write pedofics, as long as Grandma approves of them first! Props for having better spelling/grammar than the Kingdom Hearts AN...

THE END

You survived! Yay! This is my grand gallery of badfic lines and horrible author’s notes. I am honored to share it with all of you!

#fanfiction #fanfic #badfic #author's note #funny #tw harry potter #technically my immortal is its own beast but #i want to be safe #do you love the color of the sky length #due to images

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yuugisbarber · 2 years

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Seto Kaiba's coat thoughts?

(gif is from a ygo amino)

I love thinking about character design and how it can reveal things about a character. While not every character's outfits are profound symbolism or anything, I do think there is a lot to be said about Seto Kaiba's coats.

All of his coats, especially the white battle city one remind me of the wings of a dragon (especially for how they flare outward and around so much) and the hip-spikes and generous shoulder padding just sell it for me. I feel like this is intentional but obviously idk what TK's thoughts behind it were lol. But my personal head cannon is that it is an extension of his obsession with BEWD and he is trying to make himself look like a dragon, i.e bigger and more imposing.

I think his coats are his armor. the BEWD is a consistent figure in his life and in a way, his protector, his right-hand man (card? dragon? woman? idek) The BEWD is something Kaiba uses as a vehicle of his power and an extension of himself. And I think that also applies to his manner of dress. Kaiba never wants to feel small, weak, or unguarded ever again.

So he wears a coat bigger than himself that ripples behind him as he walks, how it seems to defy gravity and appear to be carried by wind even when he is standing still, and how it creates distance between other people. It adds to his presence and makes him take up space. He doesn't only want the dragon by his side, he want's to embody it. Everything is like warfare to him. May it be a duel or the tasks of a businessman. BEWD, his pride, and cut-throat methods are his weapons. And his coat is his armor of choice.

(please correct me if I'm wrong) Excluding episodes where he's in a school uniform or something, he is never seen removing/ without his iconic coats in front of anyone but Mokuba. Not only that, But Mokuba is also the only person he shares his clothing with. To me, this reinforces the idea that his coat is his armor. because Mokuba is the only, if not one of the few people he wants to protect. The only person who he is unguarded with, and instead extends his "armor" towards.

Kaiba is all about power, drama and even theatrics at times. Everyone can see that. It is indeed reflected in his style. But I think his clothes reveal a bit more about his self image and overarching ideas.

He is not the only ygo character who treats clothes as a sort of armor to face the outside world. I think Yuugi's leather vest and chains and all his punkish paraphernalia are also a kind of armor for him. That's why I think he wears them less as the series goes on and his style in DSOD is more light, breezy and comfortable looking.

So long story short, I think the white coat is an excellent design choice for him. Maybe I read to much into it, maybe I didn't. I just love this guy and his obnoxious outfits.

#kaiba corporation #seto kaiba #meta #yugioh meta #kaiba brothers #blue eyes white dragon #kaiba anime #yugioh dm #kaiba seto

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

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[image description: a cropped image of a pink sky. on the right hand side is a bunch of darker pink clouds. Just left of the centre is a full moon. In the centre, in a white serif font reads "writing update" /end id]

july writing update

Hi friends! This writing update is me pretending I did Camp Nano and didn't kinda give up a week in! I had a proper goal and everything, but a lot of things got in the way that I'm not gonna talk about here because I already ranted about it in another update I'm drafting rn. Lets just say it's Disability Pride Month and being not neurotypical or able bodied in writing communities and their inherent focus on productivity is Hard.

But I did get some writing done and wanted to do a little Camp wrap up post regardless. And I'm doing it now because I'm cancelling the last week of July for some rest/self care and I do not want to think about writing for that time and if I write a tumblr post about July Nano being over my brain will think it's actually over <3 I will probably do updates like these for most months tho! Depends on how much I write lol! This one is not too long (by my standards) and has some Revelations, Revelations, Life Cycle of Massive Stars, Nocturne for the Holy and a new wip idea 👁️

excerpts under the cut!

general taglist ; ask to be + or - ; i only have one! ; @childhoodlovers @svpphicwrites @abiandwriting @kowlazovdi @avi-why @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @bijouxs @bookphobe @moonhungers @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdywrites @keira-is-writing @flip-phones @piyawrites @avakrahn @goose-books @finch-goes-write @ziyin @aphaimaniis @isherwoodj @laughtracksonata

I'm also editing this in to say I only just realised that July is my writeblr birthday month and that is very weird to me! A year and a couple days ago I impulsively turned an old blog into a place to document writing for me and ended up meeting people who now mean the world to me and my writing blossoming in a way I never thought it would. And the funny part is it doesn't feel like it's been a year, ever since I joined it's just felt like life has Always been this way and I cannot fathom that it hasn't. I'm sappy bc it's 4am lol but ultimately the friends I made (you know who you are) and the community I found is what retaught me the value of writing and helped me unlearn toxic ideas and whilst the last year was tough I wish I could tell July 2020 Dallon (who did not realise he was Dallon yet </3) what July 2021 would look like.

revelations, revelations ;

Oh the absolute state of affairs with this book rn. Nothing bad but I don't know when I'm gonna update y'all because sometimes I do not know where to start when talking about this wip lol! Currently on a break with it (but also my thesis work is on late 20th century queer lit/history rn so am ever really free of RR? <3) but had a lot of fun with it at the end of June/start of July. Anyway here's Dorothy finally revealing more of herself to me after a year. Dorothy as a character is like, I truly believe she is capable of killing a man but the story she is in just does not allow that so I am trying to grow her unhinged side a little bit in other ways bc I know she has it in her but I also really cannot deal with the plot repercussions of her actually killing a man! I'm sorry Dotty but this'll have to do!

(cw for groping/a man being creepy as hell, death/funeral mention, drug mention, drowning imagery kinda)

There’s too much to tell Felix. That his sister lives on the fringe of Castro and has attended three funerals since September; that it’s January 11th and she’s already attended one this year. That his sister drives through sunsets and imagines parties: the amber dusk, warm mosaic tiles, platters of Greek salad skewers and shrimp tostadas, and sometimes Jolie joins her and they share a blunt on the hill. That his sister bought an aquamarine body-length dress for six bucks in a thrift store sale bin, so when her and Jolie broke up for the second time, she waltzed into a sunset party, locked arms with a CEO’s son and gave him a fake number and plucked strawberries out of champagne and blended so well nobody noticed when she left. That during the summer of ’83, his sister walked a neighbour’s Golden Retriever on Wednesdays, and on the sixth Wednesday he gave her a wad of tens with one hand and palmed the back of her neck with the other, so she walked his dog to the beach and stole another hundred from his wallet. That his sister bombed an interview for a Nursing school and didn’t get home until night and missed their monthly call, and Jolie heard the phone ring and didn’t take a message, so his sister snuck into the CEO’s son’s villa and floated in the centre of their heated pool like a cloud. A pause, a breath, an Opheliean threat.

life cycle of massive stars ;

Switched to LCOMS this month because I was burnt out with RR and it made such the difference! I really love working on two novels at once because it keeps me consistently creative but also both of these books are so different so its always refreshing to bounce back into one from another. I have a whole update in the drafts rn for this so keeping this part brief but still love this book, still the best thing that has ever happened to me, me and this book will have a glorious summer wedding etc etc. These excerpts are from chapters that summarise the first semester of each character's first year and have to say it. has been Very Fun to get into the mindset of Freshers Melodrama. Here's Junie having a crisis and an unhealthy relationship with her hetero flatmate :( (alcohol cw for both excerpts)

In October you are drinking double espresso and trying to breathe normally in lectures and you are trying to figure out your favourite colour because Fleur asked and you stumbled out an answer (Purple, I think. Violet? Lavender? Indigo?) and it didn’t match hers (I like yellow. I like sunlight). You buy mugs from IKEA to paint you paint cats and fireworks and constellations and moon phases and daisies. You try to scratch paint stains off your desk. You do laundry at 2am. In October you colour code your notes with pastel highlighters. You go to the library at 3am. You paint your nails sunlight and hate it. You finish an essay that’s due in December. You knock on Fleur’s door at 8am so she makes her 9am. You wear off the shoulder tops and you let a girl dab glitter on your collarbones and you are watching Fleur kiss a boy from the neighbouring hall. You bite your sunlight nails. You break the handle off your IKEA constellation mug. You leave your keys in a lecture hall and stand at the reception for forty minutes waiting for them to realise that the keys on the desk have the moon chain you mentioned - or, you are waiting to say it yourself. You are watching the rain trail down your window. In October you get a halo headband tangled in your hair you are sipping a vampire themed cocktail that tastes like acetone you rip your heels off and you go home early and do laundry at 2am and you are waiting for the courage to tell Fleur you don’t like clubbing - or, you are waiting for her to ask where you are. In October you are many things / a good student a dancer a painter an angel a big sister an alarm clock you are nocturnal and a lucid dreamer and confused about your sexuality / and it’s still October but it’s not because it’s November now and you are still Junie but not because you don’t know who Junie is. It’s November, it’s September October November December. It’s 2016 2017 2018 2019. You are fragments and you don’t know if you are a kaleidoscope or shattered glass.

And here's first year Tomas being like I Moved Countries For University And All I Got Was Homesickness And A Crush On My Flatmate And Resurging Autistic Symptoms And This Lousy T Shirt (cw: vomit mention, injection mention, parental death mention)

Kristen is seven months younger and five inches taller than you. He’s the last flatmate you met and the only one you talk to beyond kitchen greetings and passive aggressive texts about dirty dishes. He is too quiet and too loud and not the type of person you befriend. The first night, he lost Ring of Fire and downed the concoction of Echo Falls, Dark Fruits, Jack Daniels and coke, vodka and lemonade alongside a cigarette and said he’d let God figure out the rest. He held your hair back when you threw up amaretto and held onto your knee when you first self-injected testosterone. He taught you Yorkshire dialect and you pretended to understand the Yorkshire dialect. He told you he got diagnosed at four and you told him you didn’t get past the first assessment but sometimes you flick the bathroom light on and it’s fire: the orange on the orange towel is louder, the white on the white tiles are louder, the colours and light and sink and showerhead are prickly and all you can do is blink and breathe until it fizzles out. You reminded him to take his meds and asked if you were weak for wanting to drop out and hop on the first Eurostar to Rotterdam. He reminded you to take off your binder and asked if he was robotic for not grieving his mother. You spent inky nights on the kitchen floor, counting the dead flies in the lights and scooping crumbly coconut ice cream out of a maker you got for half price in TK Maxx. You spent dusk-dusted afternoons at the global street food markets, at the vegan markets. Spent student loans on raspberry lemonade in recycled cups, veggie burgers in beetroot buns, got him hooked on poffertjes and advocaat and could’ve cried when the vendor spoke to you in Dutch. Sometimes you didn’t buy anything. Just liked hovering at stalls ambered with fairy lights, writing down Etsy stores on your notes app; just liked Kristen’s impulse to trek forty minutes into the city for a market he didn’t know existed until five minutes before; just liked how he always invited only you, cancelling your other plans last minute, the feeling of being ambushed; just liked how he stopped to take photos of dogs and the sunset; just liked how he looked haloed under lampposts waiting for Ubers, golden on golden.

This is also nearing creative nonfiction because Sheffield truly is a haven for just. vegan markets and cafes lol! I experimented with veganism there and never struggled to find something and at this point I call myself a fake vegan because it's too easy to be vegan in Sheffield and too difficult to be vegan in my actual hometown. And the global street food markets!!! SO GOOD! I miss pre pandemic days

nocturne for the holy ;

Giving her a little shout out because she does exist actually! I've figured out a really good system for working on two novels at a time, so my plan is maybe to start properly on this after I finish either RR or LCOMS. Idk I got 3 novels to pick from haha oops! I did do some free drafting back in April though and found it recently and I Like It! And I edited it so it counts as Something I Did This Month :) Also have decided that I loathe this working title <3 Okay see you with an update for this novel in like a year, sorry for the absolute zero context for this excerpt hehe

The morning I was due back, I hadn’t yet decided that this would be my last visit. I wandered between rooms like an overstayed guest, like I didn’t know which crockery lived in which cabinet and which bedroom had the best view of the overlapped hills. Dad would wake for his run in an hour, plastered to his twenty-year-old routine. Mum would pretend to be asleep until breakfast. Until then, it was myself and the house, hazed by sleepy sunrise. Downstairs. The peeling paisley wallpaper in the lounge, the lilies in the middle of the kitchen table, the vases of candy floss pink peonies wilting on every windowsill, the desolate double swing-set in the garden. The mist-clogged mornings. I stood outside in my dressing-gown until my fingertips felt numb. Upstairs. The sage coloured bathroom. The bathtub I’d laze in with my clothes on and no water because it was the quietest room in the house. The dusty dance trophies on the top of my wardrobe. Wine-flushed Jeanette in my teenage bedroom. The stale grey mum painted my teenage bedroom after I moved out. Minus their room, I stalked the layout of the house three times before settling back into bed - teenage Nora’s bed. Nora who cared for peonies and pushed her brother on the swing set and flung her ceramic ballerina at the wall and jogged with her father and collected wine bottles and acorns and kisses from girls who were supposed to visit for dance practice. Before I left, I’d have cycled each room another three times. And in every room he was there, hovered in the corner like black mould.

love this update bc it's like i've got my third person, my second person, my first person! collecting all the POVs like chaos emeralds :)

eulogy for our burnings ;

-looks away-

girl help I did it AGAIN!!!! Apparently Camp Nano is just the perfect time for me to get novel ideas. I made this post specifically to talk a bit about this because I have no idea when I'll draft it but it's certainly not soon. This is not me trying to doubt my own skill but I feel like I am not in the place I'd like to be as a writer to tackle this project with the zest it needs, however I am v excited by the prospect of it! Don't know how I feel about the working title bc I'm like "that doesn't sound right but I don't know enough about this wip to dispute it" but the only purpose my working titles serve is to sound pretty lol! But here's the tea:

1991, UK.

2nd person present + past. Very flexible form. I can't decipher how yet but I'm feeling interviews, newspaper articles, receipts, grocery store lists weaved with actual narrative, that kinda vibe.

Best summary is we follow our nameless narrator, a stealth trans man, as he becomes unhealthily obsessed with a man who "hires" him to photograph the buildings he burns

Very,,, isolated? Minimal settings, minimal characters, minimal prose etc. Almost claustrophobic

There's basically only two characters and they are probably the most morally deplorable, indefensible characters I've created which just means most of you are gonna LOVE this /lh I do too I do too

Only comp title I can give is it has the vibes/tone of Boy Parts by Eliza Clark (just with none of the nsfw content lol if you've read the book you know what I'm talking about) (also that book is great for morally deplorable women protagonists but omg look up the content warnings because it caught me off guard! enjoyed it tho gave it 4 stars)

The pinterest board is the best visualisation of the Vibes also follow me on pinterest lol

And that's all I've got today! A bigger Life Cycle of Massive Stars update coming in the next few weeks. Might do a proper intro post for Eulogy For Our Burnings but idk!!! It's a surprise :) Thank you for reading this far!

#also i have LOTS to catch up on so if u tagged me in anything im gonna do a big queue of rb's soon!#promise im not ignoring anybody!#just barely functioning <3 #atlastracking #writing update #revelations revelations #life cycle of massive stars #nocturne for the holy #eulogy for our burnings

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justapoet · 3 years

Text

in the mirror, what do you see?

TK had a bad day, and somewhere among broken glass and tears, Carlos, Grace Ryder and a pie were there to pick the pieces up.

2.7k

Some days would go by easier if they never really existed, and it intensifies if your life choices led you to be a first responder. Having to deal daily with human ignorance, despair and selfishness can take you out of your mind more often than anything else can in the world, but there’s nothing else to drive you insane faster than dealing with other people’s loss.

It was bad as a firefighter, and TK found it even worse as a paramedic. While people understand easily that they couldn’t pull someone out of a building on fire or an incredibly ugly car accident, they tend to always look at paramedics as if the loss was their fault and their fault only, as if fate or whatever made them be needed in the first place.

You should’ve done more.

The old woman’s voice still echoed on TK’s mind when he stepped into Carlos’ house and shut the door behind him. He felt drained, completely exhausted, and didn’t even bother about saying goodbye to anyone at the station ― he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold his feeling in if he looked at anyone’s eyes. They’d all seen every loss, that day.

Why aren’t you trying harder?!

Another voice echoed in his ears, and he dropped his bag by the door, not bothering about getting his shoes or coat off. His hands were trembling, his breathing was short and faster than it should be, but he didn’t care about trying to calm himself down.

You’re letting her die?! Which kind of paramedic are you?!

He couldn’t avoid the first tear to fall, and then the other’s just ignored his feeling of ridiculousness as they fell copiously. Although Tommy had said that they couldn’t save everyone, trying to reassure him that he did not fault all of that, he couldn’t help but thinking that not being able to save everyone is something, but not saving anyone is something else.

That’s not enough! What you did it’s not enough!

That was probably the loudest voice in his head since the last call when they couldn’t save a seventeen-year-old girl who’d taken pills to die sleeping. Their parents had found her in her bed, the room was a mess and that orange bottle on the floor had only one pill left. TK understood it all easily, and so did his team and his dad’s team as well. They tried to keep him out of the scene, but the girl’s parents were screaming and crying and they had to take care of them while TK got closer to the bed and the dead body.

They couldn’t save her.

He couldn’t save her.

And he wished so bad he could forget about what he’d seen in that purple wall bedroom just as much as he could let himself give up on those feelings without disappointing anyone. But he can’t do any of that, so he drags his feet to the living room and stops himself before making it to the couch. There was someone in the mirror hanging on the wall, and he could only stare at the figure.

In the reflex, the skin seemed even paler than he could remember, and his body was even thinner. Shoulders bent down as if there was too much weight on it for him to carry, and for a second he was thankful the mirror was in circle shape, so he didn’t have to see the rest of the miserable image. The tired face, exhausted and empty, didn’t seem to be recognizable, but he knew it perfectly; the purple spots under the opaque green eyes, the way too apparent cheekbones, the complete image of failure.

He hated that person so much, for a second.

And that was enough for, in a moment of rage, his arms to go forward and his fists to hit the mirror with all he’d been holding up, bottling up for maybe more than just a day. He felt his skin ripping, the cuts being a good amount at his knuckles, fingers, and even his wrist, and then the tears fell as if he’d finally found an acceptable excuse to cry his soul out.

He also hated himself for crying like an idiot kid who couldn’t convince their mother to buy their favorite candy, and it made him cry even more. He didn’t think much when he punched the mirror again and then fell to his knees, the glass under him showing more images of that pathetic person on the ground.

“Idiot,” he said to the lots of faces in the fractions of the mirror, punching it again and feeling the pain grow even more on his hands. “Idiot! Stop it” he said, more like a plea. “Stop crying, stop-” and a sob made his sentence get lost within the dark walls.

“Make it stop,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Please” his voice broke, and he sat to the ground, his feet making noise when stepping on the broken glass, his shoes protecting him from more pain. He brought his knees to his chest, holding tight and feeling his hands ache even more, the sting making him conscious of the blood too.

TK doesn’t know how much time he spent there, and even less when he started to say “sorry” repeatedly. What he does know, though, is that he couldn’t help but try to let go of the sudden touch on his shoulder, his head being lifted quickly enough to get him dizzy. The worried look on Carlos’ face made him feel small and oh, so, so stupid. He looked around as if expecting someone else to be there, and, then, realized.

He’d broken Carlos’ mirror and made a mess at his house because of a bad day. Oh, boy, how he hated every single thing about himself, at that moment.

“Ty?” Carlos called, seeing how desperate and scared TK seemed to be. His name on the cop’s lips was sweet, so different from the way it sounded in his head.

“Sorry, oh, God,” he said. “I-I’m so sorry, sorry I” he tried to say, moving his hands so he could try to get up, and then Carlos saw his hands, immediately understanding what could’ve happened. “I’ll clean it up, I’ll buy you a new mirror, I-”

“TK” Carlos said, his voice serious and, yet, sweet. “It’s a mirror. Just a mirror and glass on the floor. What happened to your hands?”

TK didn’t seem to get what his words meant.

“No, no, I’ll buy you a new one. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have come, I” he tried again, tripping when he managed to get up and looking around as if searching for a way out. Carlos analyzed him, and then reached for his arms. TK stopped moving when Carlos touched his pale skin, and the latino noticed he seemed to be about to fall.

“Ty” he called again, just as sweet as before. He didn’t say anything else, but his sweet gaze didn’t leave TK’s face for minutes, and it was enough to make him break all over again. His legs gave in, and Carlos was fast when holding him close by his waist and slowly passing his fingers through the paramedic’s hair.

Slow steps towards the couch and TK curled himself on Carlos’ side, crying even harder and sobbing unstoppably. His bloody knuckles were white underneath the cuts, so much was the strength he was using to hold to his shirt. His eyes were closed, and Carlos didn’t even try to say anything; he didn’t have to, anyway.

“I’m not enough” he heard TK whispering, and his heart shattered to pieces to his tone and the chosen words. “Why am I never enough?”

“Why are you saying that?” Carlos asked just as quietly as TK’s voice itself. TK tried to breathe deep, but his shaky breath made clear he was still trying to hide his tears.

“We lost everyone,” he said, then. “It wasn’t enough, I wasn’t enough” another sob. “I’m never enough”.

Carlos could almost hear his heart breaking in his chest, and he held TK a little bit tighter than before, trying to find what to say. TK cried silently for a little while, and Carlos took a breath before opening his mouth and start speaking quietly.

"People are what they are, TK. No one's ever enough if they're trying to fit in other's expectations," he said. "To be enough, in the dictionary definition, always has the word "required", as a pronoun, an adverb, or a determiner. And to be required is to fit someone else's ideas and expectations. That's not what we're here for"

"We lost them all, Carlos," he said again, and the cop could feel him shaking. "All of them. No one survived"

"Death happens, Ty, as much as life does. You did all you could and their bodies needed more, but you couldn't provide that, could you?" he shook his head. "That's not on you, TK"

"That's why I'm there for, Carlos, I'm a paramedic," he said and Carlos cut him before he could continue.

"A paramedic, not a god or an angel. Although I disagree, sometimes" he said, a tiny smile on his lips while his hand carefully caressed his boyfriend's back and arm. "That's not on you".

"Why did they blame me then?" his voice could barely be heard. Carlos pressed a kiss to his head, whispering against his messy hair.

"Death is only painful for those who stay, babe. And the way we try to cope with pain is by putting it on someone" his fingers slowly reached to TK's. "Or giving another reason for the tears to fall".

TK swallowed hard, hiding his head on Carlos' side.

"I'm sorry" he chocked.

"Don't be. It's just a mirror, just glass" the cop said, and TK shook his head. "And if you're, somehow, apologizing for "not being enough" or for being who you are, then we're having an argument over what you think of my boyfriend."

TK didn't say a thing, but he nodded. There was a knock on the door, and he seemed to hide even more. Carlos pressed another kiss to his hair and squeezed his arm briefly, before getting up and smiling at the silhouette through the glass.

TK didn't know who he should expect, but that definitely wasn't Grace Ryder with a kind smile and a pie in her hands.

She stepped into the house and hugged Carlos, joking over something while he closed the door behind him. Then, she looked around the room, her eyes stopping when she saw TK trying to disappear inside the couch. Carlos took the pie from her hands, slowly making his way to the kitchen and placing it at the counter, and Grace made a similar way, stopping in front of TK, though.

"Hey there, kid," she said, her voice just as kind as her smile. TK seemed to be scared, and then Carlos came closer.

"No one's here to judge you, Ty"

"Neither to make questions," Grace said. "But I do gotta say that we need to take care of this, uh?" she pointed to his hands, his fingers closed in a fist. "Just so we can take care of this, after," she said again, her thumb gently touching his cheek over a trail of tears.

"I'm sorry," he said again, seeming to be ashamed. Grace's smile softened even more, and Carlos mirrored her.

"What for?" she asked. "For being human? We can take it" she said. "If you let us, of course. Your boy here was really worried when he asked me if there was a way for our pie on Wednesday to be rescheduled to a Saturday night" she pointed to Carlos with her head, and he smiled. TK couldn't help but do the same. "See? That's what we were looking for. C'mon, let's clean these cuts"

She held his elbow, helping him to get up. Carlos kissed his temple briefly, before walking back to the kitchen to get a broom to clean the mess on the living room floor. Grace walked TK to the bathroom, sitting him on the toilet and remembering where Carlos said the first aid kit was, taking it to clean TK's hand.

They stood in silence while she carefully passed a wet gauze through the cuts, knowing that it would sting and TK wouldn't say a thing about it anyway. He drifted away for a few moments, so confused to put any thought in place, but was brought back by her low and gentle voice.

"Some days we're so focused on helping people that we leave ourselves helpless," she said. "and when we lose someone? Feels like we let ourselves be carried away by someone else's pain. Then, we feel lost, too".

"Did Carlos call you?" TK asked, not knowing how to answer what she said. Grace smiled softly, turning his hand so she could see his wrists.

"Judd said y'all had a hell of a day. He was worried about you, mainly, though. Something about you leaving without a word and almost running out of the station" she explained. "So, I messaged Carlos and he replied half an hour ago, saying that maybe you could use some pie".

TK felt his chest being filled with a warm feeling.

"Judd wanted to come, but he thought that, maybe, you'd be better without so many people around, even if they were people who cared," she said again, getting a few bandages from the box. "But, now, I gotta say that you're invited to lunch tomorrow, and Judd doesn't take "no" as an answer".

TK smiled briefly, chuckling.

"I'm sorry about worrying you guys," he said, though. "I didn't mean to... God, it was so stupid-"

"Feeling what you feel, whatever it is, is not stupid, TK" Grace said, then, her voice serious. "Not at all. And we worry because we care. We love you, kid. All of us" she continued, and TK couldn't find something to tell her otherwise.

"Thank you," he said instead, quietly. Grace smiled, finishing her work and putting her hand on his shoulder.

"You're not hateable as you think you are, honey. The 126? They love you. Tommy and Nancy? You stole their hearts easily. Me? I admired you before even knowing you, just because Judd started to say how stubborn you were" she chuckled, and TK could see the love shining in her eyes just to mention her husband. "That man out there?" he pointed to the door, referring to Carlos. "The look on his face every time he looks at you or thinks about you? Oh, kid, he loves you more than life itself, I bet. And you do, too, because the look on your face right now it's the same I see on myself when I think about Judd"

"I don't deserve him," he said, even if his heart was about to burst with love for the cop. Grace chuckled, helping TK to get up.

"You deserve everything good, Strand," she said. "And I'm pretty sure that Officer Reyes is the summary of all of it"

TK smiled fondly.

"Yeah. I think so" he said, getting lost in the thought of Carlos for a second. "But can I have the pie, too?" he asked, and Grace laughed loudly while walking out of the bathroom.

Getting back to the living room, TK couldn't stop his feet from going straight to Carlos, wrapping his arms around the man's waist and placing his head on his shoulder, sighing happily. Carlos smiled, putting the bag with the broken glass on the ground and hugging him back, placing a kiss at the top of his head. Grace smiled at them, nodding happily when Carlos found her eyes.

When they sat on the couch, each with a slice of pie on a plate and the pie on the coffee table, laughing over any random things and some stories Grace had to tell after being a dispatcher for so many years, TK rested his head on Carlos' shoulder and closed his eyes for a second. While listening about some guy who got trapped in his ex-wife's closet, he looked up and stared at his boyfriend's smile, then at the smile on Grace's face.

Right there, he was enough. And if two people just as good and Carlos and Grace could love him, maybe his reflection wouldn't be so painful anymore.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #carlos x tk #tk x carlos #carlos reyes x tk strand #tk strand x carlos reyes #grace ryder #911 lone star fic #911 lone star #my fic #my writing #paramedic tk #paramedic tk strand #i wrote it for no reason #after a sleepless night

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

if your looking for a bth prompt what about used in sacrificial ritual where tk gets abducted on a run and carlos is the lead detective on this case of people getting murdered as sacrifices and they arrive in time to save tk but the ritual involved cutting limbs off and tk ends up losing a leg? perhaps w lots of fluff at the end? <3<3

anon, i cannot tell you how excited this prompt got me. i’d been toying with a very similar idea for weeks and this was the push i needed to actually write it - with certain modifications to fit your idea. (i promise it has a happy ending!)

i’m super proud of how this came out, and i hope you like it as much as i do!

@911lonestarangstweek day 7: Free choice!

Two months ago, TK vanished, snatched while out on his evening run. Carlos will do anything to get him back, even if that includes running himself into the ground.

ao3 | 4.9k | cw: kidnapping, depictions of violence, death and injury, forced amputation, career-ending injuries

It’s been two months.

Two whole months since TK left for his evening run with nothing but a shouted goodbye and a promise to be home soon.

Two months since Carlos hadn’t even turned around, because apparently the dishes were more important than his husband.

Two months since they found TK’s shattered phone and wallet, abandoned in the park next to a pool of blood.

Two months since Carlos’s world came crashing down around him.

He blames himself - how could he not? He’s been the lead detective on this case for months; he’s the one who’s so far failed to catch the guys who have mutilated and killed so many people, and now might do the same to his husband. More to the point, he’s the one who is supposed to protect TK, and it’s clear he’s resoundly failed in that department.

His captain had tried to take him off the case, once they’d found out that TK had become the latest victim. But Carlos had informed him in no uncertain terms that he was going to keep looking for his husband, even if he had to go above his head to do it.

They’d allowed him to keep the case, but Carlos knows he’s being watched. They think he’s having a breakdown and, the thing is, Carlos isn’t entirely sure they’re wrong.

He hasn’t slept in their bed since the night it happened, when he got woken up at two am to the sound of his ringtone blaring through the room.

“Reyes,” Mitchell had said, tone heavy. “I… Shit, Reyes. You gotta get here. There’s another one and I… I really didn’t want to be telling you this over the phone, but…”

She’d paused, and Carlos had sat bolt upright in bed, suddenly all too aware of the empty space next to him. And, in that moment, he’d known; even so, he’d still choked out a quiet, “No.”

“I’m sorry, Carlos. I truly am.”

He’s been living in a daze ever since, work and TK the only two things on his mind. He eats when he has to, barely sleeps, and never hangs out with their friends anymore, which he almost feels guilty for. They’re suffering too, Carlos knows this, but he can’t afford any distractions right now. If he were to be out somewhere and ends up missing the one chance he has to get TK back, he’d never forgive himself.

He’s just about to leave for another shift when there’s a loud, insistent knock at the door. Carlos rolls his eyes and goes to yank it open, about to tell whoever it is to leave him alone.

Only to come face-to-face with a very determined looking Grace Ryder.

“Grace,” he sighs, irritation dissipating. “Can this wait? I’ve got a -”

“I know you don’t have an official shift today, Carlos,” she interrupts, folding her arms. “Just like I know you’re working yourself to death, and I’m not going to stand for it anymore. You’re coming out with me, no arguments.”

Carlos shakes his head. “Grace… I can’t.”

“Oh, yes, you can.” She clicks her tongue, levelling him with an unimpressed stare. "You should be thanking me; Judd was planning on bringing the entire crew down here to stage a full intervention. Now, I managed to talk him out of that one, convinced him the last thing you need right now is a house full of people, but I will not hesitate to go back on that. So you've got two options. Either you go back upstairs and get changed and I'll take you out for coffee, just the two of us, or I'm gonna unleash my husband and the full force of the 126 on you. Choice is yours, Reyes."

He sighs, wearily meeting her eyes. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"No, sir, you are not."

Carlos closes his eyes and hangs his head, knowing just how stubborn Grace Ryder can be. “Alright,” he says, though his every nerve is screaming at him for it, “you win. Give me a minute.”

She smiles encouragingly at him. “I’ll be here.”

The coffee-shop Grace takes him to is mercifully empty, both of people and memories. He wonders if she did this on purpose, but figures it’s more a stroke of pure luck, his first in months. It’s a nice place; he’ll have to remember it for when - if - they get TK back.

Grace quickly returns with their drinks, placing a sandwich in front of Carlos, too. “Don’t even argue,” she warns. “I won’t hear it.”

Carlos forces a smile. “Thanks, Grace.”

They sit in silence for a while, Carlos keeping his gaze turned to the table, picking listlessly at the sandwich. He can feel Grace’s eyes on him, feel the tension in the air between them, and part of him wishes she’d just come out with it already.

The other part wants to run for the hills, but he’s pretty sure Grace would catch him before he got too far.

Eventually, she sighs, setting her mug down and leaning across the table. “Carlos, we miss you,” she says softly. “I know it’s tough, but you’ve barely spoken to any of us since it happened. We’re worried.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“No.” She shakes her head, voice still unbearably gentle. “You’ve been keeping yourself busy. There’s a difference. And that’s okay, up to a point, but you haven’t given yourself a break in two months and that is not okay. You know TK wouldn’t want you to be doing this.”

“You say that like he’s dead.”

Grace sucks in a sharp breath. “Sweetheart, you know that is not what I meant -”

“Maybe you’re right,” he cuts in, ignoring the pain in his chest as he finally looks up at Grace. “It’s been two months; you know as well as I do what survival rates are for missing persons, even in normal circumstances.” His breathing trembles and he squeezes his eyes shut, images of the bodies they’ve found so far flashing through his mind. His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks next. “You also know that the third month is usually when the bodies appear. We’re running out of time, Grace, and I don’t - I don’t know if I believe any more.”

“Carlos Strand-Reyes, I did not just hear you give up on that boy.”

He smiles humourlessly. “Not on him, Grace. On me.”

A long silence follows his words, though Carlos can feel the disappointment and worry rolling off Grace in waves. He should probably feel guilty for ruining a perfectly fine day, but he’s just so tired. He’ll do anything to have TK by his side again, but each day that passes is another day that TK slips further and further away from him, and it’s difficult to hold on to hope.

“I’m terrified,” Carlos admits quietly, tears pricking the back of his eyes. “Any day now they’re going to tell me they’ve found another body, and it’s going to be him, and I won’t be able to handle seeing him like that. You don’t know what they do to them, Grace, it’s - it’s -”

His breath hitches, and suddenly Grace is next to him, gathering him in her arms as he breaks down in sobs against her chest. She shushes him, running a gentle hand through his hair and, for a brief moment, she makes it easy to push away memories of sightless eyes and missing limbs and slit throats.

Grace holds him close, murmuring assurances Carlos doesn’t really hear, until he’s cried himself dry. Then, she pulls back, swiping her thumbs under his eyes, unshed tears shining in her own.

“You’ll get through this, Carlos,” she says, wobbly smile on her face. “No matter the outcome, we’ll all be here to help you get through this.”

Carlos nods, but, privately, he thinks she’s wrong. If TK dies, he’s not sure he’ll be able to find a way through that, no matter how many people are by his side. Because the only one he really, truly needs, won’t be there.

Carlos rubs his eyes, his vision blurring as he stares at crime scene photos, as he has been doing for the past however many hours. He must have gone through these thousands of times over the past eight months, and yet he’s still drawing a complete blank as to clues that could help them find the killers.

They’re always too careful, never leaving any DNA on scene, never caught on camera, never seen by witnesses. There’s not even much of a common denominator between the victims, aside from the fact that they’re all young - the oldest being 38 - and they were all alone when they were taken.

The only consistency in this entire thing is the bodies. Official cause of death is always a deep cut to the throat, accompanied by at least one limb being cut off when the victim was still alive, sometimes more. They never find the missing body parts, which bothers Carlos more than it probably should.

He rubs his eyes again, blinking hard to try and stay awake. He didn’t sleep well last night, which is nothing new, but the past two weeks have been exhausting. After Grace’s coffee outing, the 126 have been stopping by regularly, one or two at a time, to check up on him and make sure he’s doing okay. Carlos appreciates it, he does, but he doesn’t have the energy for it these days.

He’s so tired that he doesn’t notice Mitchell walking up to his desk before she’s standing right next to him, casting a shadow over his papers. Carlos looks up, and dread washes over him at the grim expression on her face, the tense set to her shoulders.

“We’ve got another one.”

Carlos makes a noise halfway between a choke and a sob. “A body?” he whispers, looking up at her fearfully.

“A disappearance,” Mitchell corrects, and Carlos doesn’t even feel guilty for the relief that floods him at that. “Industrial estate across town, one of the workers got nabbed when he went for a smoke. Same MO, no witnesses - it’s them.”

He nods, praying that Mitchell doesn’t notice the way his hands shake as he gathers up his papers. If she does, she doesn’t say anything, though he catches her exasperated head shake when he turns back to face her.

“Let’s go.”

The crime scene is, as always, pristine, and Carlos can’t help but be frustrated, even if this is what he’s come to expect. The case had been wearing on him even before TK was taken, but now it feels like every dead end is a spit in his face, like the universe is taunting him directly.

He’s about to wrap up the scene when a young officer comes barreling towards him.

“Detective!” he yells, panting. “Detective Reyes!”

Carlos stops, raising an eyebrow as the officer skids to a halt in front of him, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he gasps. Straightening, he clears his throat, pointing across the street. “There’s a hidden speed camera over there.”

Carlos blinks. Of all the ground-breaking news he imagined might warrant such dramatics, speed cameras weren’t one of them.

The officer heaves a long-suffering sigh, which, under any other circumstances, might be amusing. “We’re not sure yet, but, looking at the angle, we think it covers the place the guy got taken from,” he explains, and Carlos’s eyes widen. “If it does, we might be able to get some ID, maybe even a license plate. I know they’ve always been careful not to get caught on camera before, but they might not have known about this one. It’s a chance, Detective.”

Carlos breathes out shakily, mind reeling from the officer’s words. It’s a chance. An honest-to-god chance. “Have we pulled footage yet?”

“Doing that now.” The officer grins boyishly, and Carlos feels a small smile tugging at his own lips. He can’t let himself get too invested in this; there’s every chance that it’ll turn into yet another false lead. And yet.

Something like hope lights up Carlos’s chest, and he dares, just for a second, to believe in it.

It works.

It fucking works.

They don’t have an ID - the killers are at least smart enough to cover their faces - but they do have a plate, which they’ve managed to track to a warehouse on the outskirts of town. Carlos taps the steering wheel of his cruiser anxiously; they’re parked in some trees just out of sight of the building, and he itches with the desire to jump out and go.

Every second they wait here is one more second in which TK is still with them, suffering, dying. He chews on his lip, then turns to Mitchell.

“We clear on the plan?”

She raises an eyebrow. “I am. Are you?”

“What -”

“I know what this means for you, Reyes,” she interrupts, not unkindly. “I know what might be waiting for you in there. Now, if it were up to me, you would be benched. It’s too personal, and you’re way too close to it. But, since it’s not, you’ve gotta promise me that your head is screwed on tight, you hear me? We’ve got a good plan, and it’ll work, but it’s only good so long as we are all following it. So, you tell me. Are we clear on the plan?”

Carlos swallows thickly, glancing back in the direction of the warehouse. Mitchell is right - he is too close to it, and he’d be thinking the same thing if the situation were in reverse. He just… He can’t fathom being anywhere but here right now.

He can do this; he knows he can.

He has to, for TK.

“Yes,” he says firmly, meeting her eyes. “We’ve got this.”

She nods. “Alright, then.” Her gaze shifts past him and she jerks her chin up. “There’s the signal. Let’s move out.”

It’s almost too easy, in the end. The suspects are woefully unprepared for an ambush, and Carlos doesn’t even need to fire his gun, which is always a good thing. They find the guy who was taken today in the same room as his kidnappers, a little worse for wear, but not too injured, all things considered.

Carlos wants to be happy about that, but he can’t. Not when TK is still nowhere in sight.

Mitchell takes over managing the scene and questioning the hostage. He’ll have to remember to buy something for her in thanks when this is all over; she’s been a rock over the past three months, often covering for Carlos with their supervisors when things became too much.

He glances around at the swarms of police and paramedics filling the warehouse, feeling oddly detached from it all. He’s itching to go looking for TK, but there’s only so far he can push things - though he’s being no help here, he has to maintain an appearance if he wants to not get fired.

That appearance being, the calm and collected detective, which is the furthest thing from what Carlos is right now.

His hands tap restlessly at his thighs, his senses dialled to eleven with anxiety, which only spikes when he sees an officer making her way towards him, a grim look on her face.

Please, god, no.

Carlos moves to meet her, but he’s not able to form the words for the question he needs to ask. Fortunately, she takes pity on him.

“We’ve found your husband, Detective,” she informs him.

Carlos swallows around the lump in his throat, trying to tamp down the fear. “Is he...?”

“Alive,” she says, and Carlos could cry with relief. “But he’s in bad shape. I’ve been told not to let you back there.”

He stares at her, dumbfounded. “I appreciate the concern, but my husband has been missing for nearly three months,” he says tightly. “It would not be a wise idea to keep me from him any longer.”

She hesitates, biting her lip uncertainly, but eventually relents under Carlos’s hard stare. “Alright. Follow me.”

Carlos is led down several corridors until they stop outside a door, guarded by two other officers. The woman who brought him has a whispered argument with them, but Carlos pushes past her to glare at them, his patience at an end now that he knows that TK is mere feet away from him.

“I told her to bring me here,” he says. “That man in there is my husband; I’m going in there one way or another.”

The two officers exchange a glance, then wearily sigh and nod, stepping to the side. Carlos doesn’t bother to thank them before rushing inside, coming up short at the sight of three paramedics crouched around a body on the ground. He can’t really see much of TK yet, but he feels frozen in place, his mind suddenly rebelling at the thought of having to witness what three months of captivity have done to him.

He shakes his head and wills his feet forward, feeling like he’s walking through treacle as he rounds to TK’s side. Bile rises in his throat and he can’t stop the gasp that escapes him when he finally catches sight of his husband - it’s worse than anything Carlos had imagined, and he’d imagined a lot.

TK’s completely naked; the paramedics have lain a sheet over his lower half, but it does little to hide his emaciated state, his entire body outlined with sharp corners where his skin seems almost shrink-wrapped to his bones. Carlos can count every one of TK’s ribs, and the hollow of his cheeks is deeply pronounced. His torso is discoloured from bruising and he’s horribly still and pale - Carlos would think he were dead if not for the barely there rise and fall of his chest.

That’s not the worst of it, though. Carlos’s eyes travel down TK’s body, cataloguing his injuries, before sticking on his left leg.

Or, rather, the space where his left leg used to be.

Carlos barely refrains from throwing up, his stomach turning at the bloody mess in front of him. This isn’t… In the back of his mind - in his nightmares - he’d known that this was a possibility, but he’d never prepared himself for actually seeing it. He doesn’t know if he could have prepared himself, even if he’d tried.

“Detective.”

He’s broken from his horrified staring by one of the paramedics, now standing in front of him. Strange - Carlos hadn’t noticed him moving.

He sighs, obviously disapproving of Carlos’s presence here, but his expression holds nothing but sympathy. “Your husband is lucky we got here when we did,” he says. “But I can’t make any promises, and he is nowhere near out of the woods yet. To be perfectly honest with you, Detective, it’s a miracle he’s still breathing right now. He’s severely dehydrated and suffering from starvation - it looks like his kidnappers were giving him just barely enough food and water for him to survive. I’m also worried about infection in his leg, plus there might be injuries we can’t see yet. We’ve done everything we can for him here, but we have to get him to the hospital as soon as possible. I’m assuming you’re going to ride with us?”

Carlos immediately nods. There’s no way he’s going to remain here, even if he knows he won’t be able to stay with TK when they get to the hospital. He trusts Mitchell to handle things, and he wouldn’t be of much use anyway, even more so than before. Not after everything he’s seen, everything he’s heard.

The paramedics get TK loaded on a gurney and Carlos follows them out, eyes locked on TK’s still form. He brushes a hand through TK’s limp hair, forcing back the tears burning in his eyes.

“Hold on, my love,” he whispers. “I’m here; you’re safe now.”

He hopes, somehow, that TK hears him.

“Oh my god.”

Carlos looks up from the bed at the sound of Owen’s voice. His father-in-law has a hand over his mouth, shock written all over his face at the sight of TK - what little that can be seen underneath all the bandages and machines he has hooked up to him. Carlos had done his best to prepare Owen for what he’d face when he arrived, but it had been an impossible task. He’d barely been able to get the words out, for one, but there was no explaining just how bad things are.

Nothing will ever be the same. Not that Carlos had ever expected that it would, but when (if, he reminds himself) TK wakes up, it will be to a completely different life than the one he had walked out of all those months ago.

The physical injuries alone would be bad enough - and, god, he’ll have to do so much at home to make it safe for TK - but he’s more worried about how this will have affected him in other ways. Carlos can’t imagine the level of trauma his husband has suffered, and he just prays that they can find a way to get through it.

Owen’s face crumples as he makes his way across the room, collapsing heavily in the chair on the other side of the bed. He reaches out as though to touch TK, but snatches his hands back just as quickly, expression stricken. “Oh my god,” he repeats.

Carlos lets him be for a few moments, allowing Owen to process what he’s seeing at his own pace. He turns away so that he can have some semblance of privacy, though he can’t ignore the soft sobs he hears. It’s almost as though they’re mourning TK, even though they now have proof he’s alive, which is more than can be said for the last three months.

Eventually, Owen sniffs, and turns to address Carlos. “Have they… What did the doctors say?”

“Nothing concrete,” Carlos answers, focusing his gaze back on TK. “If he makes it through the next few days, then they think he’ll have a chance, but that’s a big if, Owen. There was so much damage. His organs weren’t functioning properly, he has a head wound from when he was first taken that never really healed right, and his leg… It had become infected where his kidnappers cut it; they had to take some more in surgery to stop it from spreading any further.”

He tears his eyes from TK to meet Owen’s gaze, almost wishing he hadn’t when he sees his own pain and grief reflected back at him. “It’s bad, Owen,” he chokes out. “I don’t know… I don’t know what I’ll do if…”

He shakes his head, the words sticking in his throat. Not that he really needs to say them; they’re both thinking the same thing.

“The doctors probably told you, but they’re restricting visitors to two until he’s more stable,” Carlos continues, eyes dropping back to the bed. “I know the team will want to see him, but do you think you can hold them off for a while? Just for a couple of days, until we know more. I don’t want to keep them from him, but I just…” He trails off, guilt welling up in him even though he knows this is what’s best. “I know it’s a selfish thing to ask, but I think it’s for the best, for everyone.”

“I understand,” Owen says gently. “I’ll let them know. And… I’ll do my best to prepare them, for when they do come and visit.”

Carlos nods his thanks and the two lapse into silence, broken only by the hiss of the ventilator and the beeping of the heart monitor. Proof that TK’s still with them, but each noise sends another bolt of pain through Carlos’s heart.

He squeezes his eyes shut, finally allowing the tears to fall down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Owen,” he sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

Owen gasps. “What for?”

“I was supposed to protect him! This was my case, I’m the reason he got taken, the reason he might not make it. He could still die, and it’s all my fault!”

Carlos drops his head into his hands, chest heaving from the force of his sobbing. Distantly, he hears the scrape of a chair on linoleum, then Owen’s hands are on his shoulders, turning him into an embrace. Carlos falls into him, not caring about the almost childlike way he clings to his father-in-law.

“You found him, Carlos,” Owen whispers, rubbing circles on Carlos’s back. “You found him. Any chance he has at making it through is because of you. That’s what matters now; it’s the only thing that matters.”

It’s several more weeks before Carlos’s prayers are finally answered.

TK was declared stable some time ago, the doctors saying that, barring any unexpected complications, they should expect him to wake up. They hadn’t said anything about what the damage might be once he did wake, but Carlos hadn’t wanted to ask; at this point, he can’t focus on more than one thing at a time, else he knows he’ll fall apart.

He’s practically lived at the hospital since they brought TK in. He’s pretty sure Owen, his parents, and the 126 came up with a rota for making sure he wasn’t starving himself, because it was always someone different who attempted to pull him away from TK’s room for food or sleep in an actual bed. Carlos resisted as much as he thought he could get away with, but he’s not stupid. He knows he needs to keep his strength up if he’s going to be of any use once TK wakes up.

It happens early one morning, when the sun is just beginning to filter through the blinds. Carlos is already awake, keeping a vigilant watch over his husband, though he doesn’t quite believe it when TK’s eyelid twitches.

He holds his breath, waiting, and, just when he’s given it up as a trick of exhaustion, it happens again, both of his eyes cracking open this time.

“TK?” he breathes, half-rising from his chair. He reaches out and grabs TK’s hand, which moves - actually moves - in his, and tears spring to his eyes.

It takes a few more minutes before something like awareness creeps into TK’s face, his eyes fully opening for the first time in weeks. Carlos just sobs at the sight, drawing TK’s attention to him, at which point his expression turns to shock and disbelief.

TK’s mouth moves, but he can’t force out any words, causing panic to flash over his face and his breathing picks up. Carlos leans forward, squeezing his hand and stroking his cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says softly, reassuring him. “You’re okay, I promise, everything’s going to be okay. You’re in the hospital. I’m here, and you’re safe. God, TK, I swear I’m never going to let anything happen to you ever again, I swear it.”

TK shakes his head, still not understanding, so Carlos reaches to press the call button. He forces a smile for TK’s sake, though his mind is crowded with worries about what their next steps will be. It’s going to be a long time before they can even think about going home, he knows this, but everything is so uncertain now.

Carlos wants to believe that there can be some sort of normality in their future, but, right now, it seems like a distant dream.

Time passes.

He brings TK home.

It’s hard, so much harder than he thought, but they have a whole team of people willing to help out as much as they can. Paul and Grace often bring food, usually stopping to talk for a while afterwards. The others - most often Marjan and Judd - sometimes come by and take TK out in his wheelchair for a while, giving Carlos time and space to relax or tidy. Letting TK out of his sight was difficult at first, and he still gets anxious watching him disappear out the door, but he knows that the 126 would do anything to keep him safe.

He just has to trust them, which he does, implicitly so.

Owen’s also a frequent visitor to their house, staying overnight a time or two in the beginning. Carlos is grateful for it; he doesn’t know how he would have coped if not for Owen’s steady presence while they were still figuring out their new reality.

TK struggles a lot, even with simple things these days. The head wound caused brain damage, leading to migraines and he has problems with speech and carrying out tasks. It breaks Carlos’s heart to see him, but he forces himself to keep up a front, only letting the emotion out when he’s alone - or, rarely, with one of the 126.

He suspects TK knows anyway, but they don’t talk about it.

It’s a long few months of recovery, of pain and exhaustion and frustration. But it’s all worth it, because it means that TK is alive. It means that Carlos has him back, and they can work on getting better together.

It means that, one golden morning, Carlos wakes up to see TK’s beautiful green eyes already open, watching him intently. He reaches out to caress TK’s cheek, then leans in and presses a gentle kiss to his lips, lingering for a long moment.

And, when he pulls back, TK smiles.

And it feels like everything is going to be okay.

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howtosingit · 3 years

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SNEAK PEEK: Next to You (That’s Where I Want to Be) - Chapter Seven: February | Bewitched, Body and Soul

Hello, friends! I know that it has been 7 weeks but who’s counting a long time since I updated this fic, and I have no excuse other than the fact that my writing muse has been off hibernating while my brain went “let’s freak out about the show airing and care about literally nothing else.” So fun!

I’m slowly finding my way back into the groove of writing, but I don’t want to keep you all waiting any longer for some content from this AU, so here is the entire first scene of the next chapter! Thank you for your patience, your kudos, and your support, and I hope you enjoy this little taste of what’s to come 🤗

(If you have no idea what I’m talking about but find yourself intrigued, check out the fic masterpost to read the first six chapters!)

SNEAK PEEK (2.2K) UNDER THE CUT...

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

“Why is it completely impossible to find a decent man around here?”

Carlos glances up from the book in front of him to find Michelle standing at his side, glaring down at her phone as she swipes through something on the screen.

“‘Around here’ as in… the library?” he teases, gesturing past the desk in front of him and out towards the third floor study area. Since it’s still pretty early in the semester, the couches and tables aren’t filled the way they will be next month for midterms. Carlos likes working the checkout desk when it’s not as busy; it gives him more time to keep up with his own reading for class.

“What?” Michelle asks, looking up from her phone to glance around the space. “No, not the library, Carlos.” She shakes her phone, letting out a frustrated groan before tossing it down on the desk in front of her. “I’m serious, there are no decent men left in the world.”

“Well, hey-”

“Straight men, Carlos.”

“Ah,” he says, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing. After a few years, he’s very familiar with Michelle’s tragically complex dating history, so he knows to just go with her on this one. “I can’t really speak to that, sorry,” he adds unhelpfully.

“Yeah, yeah, Mister ‘I’m so in love with my boyfriend I make everyone around me want to puke’,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes as she shuffles through a stack of returned books on the cart nearby. “We can’t all just accidentally move in with our soulmates like you did.”

Carlos feels heat on the back of his neck, but he also can’t stop the smile that pulls at his lips, or the way an image of his roommate flashes through his mind. He feels like he’s been wearing an unbreakable smile for the past three weeks, and he refuses to be embarrassed about it.

Because TK Strand is his boyfriend, and it’s honestly everything he’s ever wanted.

It’s a little crazy how easily they’ve fallen into their new relationship, but in hindsight, Carlos realizes it’s not that surprising. For the past six months, they’ve formed a bond unlike any he’s ever known. TK is the person that he wakes up to - even though their beds are on opposite sides of the room - and falls asleep talking to. He’s the person that Carlos seeks out when he’s stressed or excited or just wants someone nearby. They talk about anything and everything, they laugh until their stomachs hurt, they cry while watching movies together. There is nothing that stands between them now; no walls, no fears, no ex-boyfriends. To Carlos, they sometimes feel like two sides of the same coin, while also somehow still being their own individual coins. It doesn’t really make sense when he tries to understand it, but it overwhelms him in the best possible way.

He knows that Michelle is happy for him, even though she likes to joke about how disgusting and in-love he is right now. But, that still didn’t stop her from giving him a bone-crushing hug when he first told her, his face as red as a firetruck when she affectionately whispered “I told you so, Carlos” in his ear before planting a kiss on his cheek.

In his “honeymoon period” - as his friends have taken to calling his current state of being - he can’t even be mad that she was right.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when Michelle’s phone dings on the desk next to him, her answering growl at the message causing his brows to furrow and his lips to pull downward into a frown. “What’s this about, ‘Chelle’?” he asks, preparing himself for one of her classic tirades.

“I don’t understand why guys have to get so cagey and weird about Valentine’s Day plans,” she begins, her lips pursed in annoyance as she continues to glare down at her phone. “Like, I’m not trying to coerce you into a date on this one freaking day just so that you feel obligated to marry me and give me children one day, you know? I just want chocolate and wine and some good sex! Why does that have to be such a thing?”

Carlos stares at her, trying to figure out how to respond. To be honest, he’s never really seen the point of Valentine’s Day. Sure, he absolutely loves romance - he used to dream about finding his fairytale prince, after all - but he’s never really seen the point in fixating on one day when real romance happens every day. He feels like a lot of people bottle up all of their grand gestures for a few major holidays, but forget to make simple gestures the rest of the year, and he’s never really understood that. It doesn’t help that he’s never had a person to share one of those holidays with, but as he sits and listens to Michelle, he realizes that that’s no longer true.

That thought causes something resembling fear to settle at the bottom of his stomach. For the first time in his admittedly short relationship with TK, he feels wildly unprepared.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts, determined to leave his stressing out about it until later. Right now, it’s Michelle’s turn.

“I mean, did you tell them that?” Carlos asks, gesturing to the phone when Michelle just stares at him. “The person you’re talking to?” he clarifies.

“Yeah, but he’s just being an ass now,” she scoffs, tossing her phone down again. She starts pacing behind him. “Talking about how he doesn’t ‘know if he’s free’ or how he ‘might already have plans, so he has to check and let me know later.’ Like, he’s obviously pretty careful about making plans on Valentine’s Day, so he totally knows if he already has them or not!” She’s rubbing tiredly at her face when the phone behind her rings and Carlos watches as she throws her hands up in frustration before moving to answer it. “Whatever, I’ll just buy my own chocolate and wine and spend the night at home. Who needs a man to have great sex anyway?”

Carlos is saved from answering when Michelle picks up the phone, all traces of frustration disappearing from her voice as she speaks to the other person on the line. With a shake of his head, he turns back to the front of the desk, adjusting his glasses as he finds his place in his book once again.

He makes it through a few more chapters before he’s once again interrupted, this time by the soft rapping of knuckles on the counter in front of him. He jumps slightly, pulled from his pages as a wide smile takes over his face when he looks up to find his boyfriend leaning against the desk just off to his left, staring at him with a soft smile. “Hey, you,” TK says, his face resting on his palm as it rests on the counter.

“Hi,” Carlos whispers back, and he knows that if he could look in a mirror right now, his eyes would be squinty from the way his smile takes over his entire face. He can’t help it, he’s always just really, really happy when he gets to see TK. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Not too long,” TK answers, sliding along the counter until they’re directly in front of one another. “When I came up, your face was all scrunched as you were reading, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Carlos clearly hears what he’s not saying - I just wanted to look at you - and his heart starts somersaulting in his chest. He bites down on his bottom lip, hesitating for only a moment, before he stands from his chair to lean over the desk and press a gentle kiss to TK’s lips.

“I like it when you disturb me,” he says when they part.

“And I like it when you kiss me,” TK says, glancing down at Carlos’s lips before staring up at him, his green eyes wide and beautiful as a faint blush covers his cheeks. With a lovestruck sigh, Carlos leans forward again, unable to help himself. This time, he lets the tip of his tongue peek out between his lips, hoping just a little taste of TK will keep him satisfied until he’s done with his shift.

TK groans when he pulls away again, trying to chase Carlos’s mouth but finding himself blocked by the desk between them. “Why do you have to be working right now?” he complains, his bottom lip jutting out.

“Stick around a little longer and I might not have to work at all,” Carlos teases, reaching out to run his thumb along TK’s pronounced lip. “You’re going to get me fired for inappropriate workplace behavior.”

“Now, wait a minute!” TK cries, stepping away from Carlos’s touch and crossing his arms over his chest. “I just came by to check out my favorite librarian, sir. You’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself.”

Carlos rolls his eyes at his boyfriend, but he can’t stop the smile that appears on his face to mirror the one on TK’s, the man obviously pleased with his own joke. It makes Carlos want to take on the world for him, just to see him smile like that every minute of every day.

“I find it hard to focus when you’re around,” he admits, shaking his head as he looks around them. It’s still early in the afternoon, so there are very few people in the study area, and only a couple passing through. He glances behind him to see that Michelle has disappeared, probably to fulfill an archives request or something. “You think I’d be used to it by now,” he continues, picking at his fingers as he avoids eye contact with TK, “but I don’t know that I’ll ever be.”

“Hey,” TK says softly, reaching out for him. Carlos immediately takes his hand, linking their fingers together and laying them on top of the desk. TK’s thumb drags against his skin, and he feels little bursts of electricity on every one of his nerve endings. “You know I feel the same way, right?” his boyfriend asks, ducking his head to make eye contact. “Like, I think 98% of what goes on up here is just Carlos Carlos Carlos all the time, on a constant loop,” he says, gesturing to his head with a sardonic smile.

“Especially when you’re wearing those glasses and scrunching your face about something in one of your books,” TK adds on, lifting his free hand to trace along Carlos’s eyebrows. “I’ve had endless dreams about this crease between your eyes, it’s really beyond ridiculous.”

Carlos shivers when TK adjusts his glasses on his face, running his fingers along the edge of the frames as his eyes slide around to take in his features. It’s exhilarating, terrifying, and somehow affirming all at the same time, to be admired by the man before him.

They’re really doing this, the two of them. They’re falling in love, and it’s just as easy as breathing.

“We really are disgusting, aren’t we?” he jokes, parroting the claims made by all of their friends in the past few weeks.

“Oh, totally, without question,” TK nods, his eyebrows scrunching adorably as he lets out a laugh. “I would definitely want to punch us if we were other people.”

“I’m glad we’re not though. Other people. I’m glad we’re us.”

“Damn it, Carlos,” TK whines, dramatically folding himself in half as he pushes away from the desk like someone’s forcing him to do so, “I really am going to get you fired if you say things like that to my face.”

Carlos doesn’t respond, watching as TK glares at him for a moment before his smile breaks through. With a shake of his head, he dives back towards him, pressing a hard kiss to his lips. Before Carlos can even remember to kiss back, he pulls away again.

“Okay, I’m taking control of this situation,” TK says, shaking his head when Carlos raises his eyebrow in question. “Nope, stop it, put that eyebrow down and stop looking adorable, Reyes.” TK begins to slowly walk backwards away from the desk, a new look of determination on his face. “I’m going to go downstairs to get you a juice, and then I’m going to go sit in that chair furthest from this desk and study until you’re done.”

He looks proud of his new plan, clapping his hands together in triumph as a ridiculous grin takes over his face.

“And then what?” Carlos can’t help but tease, his tone challenging.

“And then,” TK fires back, his grin transforming into a smirk, “you and I are going back to our room and we are definitely not going to get any studying done whatsoever. How does that sound?”

Carlos lets himself have this moment, lets himself feel the way his body and soul comes alive as he looks at the man in front of him. The man of his dreams, now the man of his reality.

“Perfect,” he finally says, unable to hear it over the pounding of his heart.

Every moment with TK sounds more perfect than the last.

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

#tarlos #tarlos fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #about my writing #next to you fic #sneak peek #this is basically like a one-shot #so that's fun #also rafa's picture from this morning provided some really great motivation #what can I say? - I love seeing that man in glasses #so everyone thank rafael silva - for this and everything else he does

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taeggukstime · 2 years

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The hate has gotten so bad against Jimin that Tkkers who are Jimin antis have started creating false rumors and narratives about him that he is an alcoholic with daddy issues (because they claim his dad is an alcoholic that cheated on Jimin's mother) that sleeps around with a bunch of women they even tried to claim he slept with a porn star during the whole Paris incident. They try to paint him out to be an abuser, narcissist, user and a manipulator as well as a fuckboy it's honestly sickening to say the least. They all claim this is the ''true" Jimin because they have some sort of insider info from staff and managers or some shit. I cannot believe it's gone this far. This is a level of delusion and conspiracy theory bullshit that I thought only existed in the political sphere I was completely wrong. It's that bad now.

In relation to this :

1. Those claiming to have inside info are the worst 🙄 Anyone can lie about having such connections, and even if they were somehow in contact with BTS' world they can still fabricate rumors out of thin air. It frustrates me how people are so hungry for this type of gossip when it's BS 99% of the time, yet they speculate about it and fall into the game of the "what ifs". They give it way too much credit and thought. If you happen to hear something and there's no solid evidence just forget about it as if you never heard it and move on, especially if it's negative. I know there's people that eagerly follow these type of "sources" and it sounds like a huge waste of time. For example, JM having daddy issues... he's always talked so fondly of his father and even shared an endearing Kakao Talk convo with him. There's no red flags and I'm sure there's no proof of what they're saying. Also, it's just not our business. Same with him sleeping around, which shouldn't even be a problem if it were to be true (but still, no proof). About him being an abuser, etc, for all I know Jimin is one of kindest souls out there.

2. It's horrible how the hate towards Jimin & Tae within the TK & JKK communities, respectively, seems to be increasing like a snowball rolling downhill. This is what fanaticism results in. As I previously said, I do think that a big part of the problem is the rivalry between sides and how they start believing that a member is a nuisance, which affects the image they have of them and how they judge them. They may start to truly believe they're a bad person and sometimes it turns into targeted harassment, trying to actively drag them down and even creating lies. What do they gain out of it? I don't know...it's pure evil and hatred. It's so sad how both communities are normalizing having certain disdain for either Tae or JM that simply showing love for them can make people suspect you're a "traitor" or something of the sort, let alone showing appreciation for the rival ship's bond. I'm sure it would be a lot less toxic if people admitted that we only get a glimpse into their lives and we don't truly know them, if they weren't so intense about their beliefs = speculations. They are not worth all the fighting and the fanwars, and definitely not worth attacking and defaming a member. Having said this, I don't think the targeted harassment is just a result of shipwars since there's also the problem of solo stans that victimize their bias and don't know their limits. Since we can't get rid of these people and fights are draining + not so effective, best option is to show love for all 7 members, though it's also convenient to calmly condemn someone's hateful behavior if you're associated with them and cut ties if it continues. With this combination you're already actively combating hate.

~ Answered on February 2, 2022 ~ 6 asks pending

#asks

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tarlos-spain · 3 years

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Angst Week Day 4 - M

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33816019/chapters/84227125

This is chapter 4 of My world exploded in front of me

M - Memory, Motorbike, Mobility, Message

Carlos stopped everything he was doing as soon as he received the news. He left the computer on, all the papers on his desk, and almost forgot to even pick up his cell phone. TK had woken up and everything else didn't matter now.

Judd hadn't given him many details.

"I left the room for five minutes to get a coffee. Fuck, Carlos, I'm sorry. How was I supposed to know I'd wake up in those damn five minutes. When I came back he was very upset, I heard him screaming from down the hall. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself. I left him alone."

Carlos had never heard Judd speak so upset and he oozed guilt from every pore of his body.

He tried to tell him that it wasn't his fault, that no one had even assured them that TK would wake up. But Judd couldn't get that image of TK out of his head, flailing in bed, at least the part of his body he could move. He was terrified by the fact that he couldn't feel his legs, as if they weren't there.

He had been put on a sedative, which meant he would go back to sleep and by the time Carlos arrived, he wouldn't be able to see the miracle for a few hours. When they had talked during those days about what they were looking forward to when TK finally woke up, it certainly wasn't the nightmares Judd was going to have for days afterward.

They didn't talk much when Carlos arrived, because he arrived at about the same time Owen did, and shortly after that the rest of the team did. The doctor advised them to go into the room as one, after spending several days in a coma he needed time for his brain to return to normal functioning.

"Carlos is outside, he can't wait to come in, hug you, and... well whatever it is you guys do when one of you has something happen to you."

TK smiled. He reached out to take his father's hand. Just awake from the coma he still had trouble thinking clearly or just doing two things at the same time, so when Owen squeezed his hand, he concentrated on speaking.

"What...what happened?" "The doctors say the memories will come back in time." "I know, but I don't like to wait. What happened? I... I don't... I don't remember anything."

TK tried to move, but his body was still very slow and he barely managed to move. Owen didn't say anything, didn't ask him if he needed help, because he knew the answer, he knew how proud TK could be even at the worst moment. He simply helped him sit up more comfortably.

"Carlos... Carlos is okay? From the accident..." "Yeah, he wasn't in the car when it happened."

TK stared at the bed and the legs he could see but couldn't move.

"You saw it, didn't you? The accident."

TK would give anything to be able to get his thoughts in order and speak properly, but it seemed his mind refused to get things right, and worse no matter how hard he tried, he was having trouble getting the words to make sense.

"Yes..." "Ehm... I remember the car and I remember... I don't remember why we were in the car. shopping? We were shopping... but it was late. Carlos never shops late, then things are missing." "TK, son, don't worry about it now. You've woken up from a very long coma and you need a lot of rest." "Legs dad, I can't move my legs and I remember things, but..." He put a hand to his head and groaned. "It hurts so much to think." "Then get some sleep, it will do you good." "No, Carlos... I want to see him, please, Dad. "Okay, okay, but don't get nervous you'll still hurt yourself," Owen said with a chuckle, as he forced TK to stay sprawled out on the bed. "I'm going to call him."

They made the change and Carlos entered the room.

They stared at each other for a moment in complete silence. Carlos was pinned after closing the door. Many times he had thought about what he would do or say at that moment when his eyes would meet TK's.

But suddenly, he didn't know what to do or say and just stood there.

"It wasn't your fault." "You don't remember," Carlos said clenching his fists so that it didn't show in his voice how bad he was having a hard time. "I left you in the car. If I hadn't..." "It's true. I don't remember and that's why..." TK groaned again, the pain in his head was getting stronger, but he had no intention of sleeping and resting until he managed to take his eyes off Carlos. "Come."

Carlos didn't move. TK reached out and sat up as best he could to get his boyfriend's attention.

"If you expect me to come to get you, I'd love to. But I can't. Legs aren't my strong point right now." "TK, don't say that."

Carlos took three long strides to the bed, and almost before he sat down, he wrapped both arms around TK's body and pulled him tight against him. He could feel him so fragile, so delicate, he almost imagined he could break if he used too much force. So he just lay there; head buried against TK's neck and shoulder and cried inconsolably.

"I'm so sorry, baby. Ty, my boy, I'm sorry." "I already told you it wasn't your fault." "No, actually it was my dad's fault."

"Did you..." TK dropped his head on Carlos' shoulder and let him lay him down on the bed again, he was too tired to do it himself. "Your father?" he finished asking already drowsy and while stroking the cop's cheek. "It's a long story, but what you have to do now is rest to regain your strength." He kissed him on the head, then went down to his cheek and finally kissed him on the lips. "I didn't know if I could ever kiss you again and... Don't scare me like this again please, baby." "You're going to do something, stupid aren't you?" Carlos burst out laughing, but TK remained serious from the bed. "Whatever's in your head, don't do it." "It'll only take a moment. It's a work thing." "Babe." "Shhh, don't worry about a thing, baby. Go to sleep. I'll be back in a little while."

He was lying, they both knew he was lying, but neither said anything. They knew each other well enough by now that there was no need for useless words. Carlos didn't want to lie and tell him he wasn't going to do anything dangerous and TK didn't want to tell him he was fine with it and was cool with it for him when he wasn't.

He also didn't want to sound selfish by saying he didn't want to worry about something other than himself, his useless legs, or the thoughts he wasn't clear if they were memories or dreams.

"Come back to me. "Tonight we sleep together." "That's a promise." TK sat up a little to reach up to kiss Carlos again. "I promise, now sleep or your doctor will kill me."

Carlos didn't tell anyone let alone TK where he was going. He had asked his father not to tell anyone, he knew he and Owen talked often, but he had asked him not to tell him unless things were really bad.

"I want to go I dad. I know I'm not on the case, I know I shouldn't even know where these people are. But this is about TK and I'm not going to sit idly by or in TK's room."

Gabriel knew his stubborn son and he knew he didn't know that there would be no way to stop Carlos from going to the meeting.

"I want you to call me as soon as you get out of there, I want to be sure everything went well." He had told his father before letting him go and Carlos had simply agreed with him, had told him not to worry.

It didn't matter if he was worried about him now, it wasn't going to make Carlos forgive him for what he had done.

"Those people move around the outskirts, I can give you the exact address," Johnny had said at the jail. "But I'm sure they'll be waiting for you."

Carlos was counting on it, he wanted them to come after him, he wanted an excuse to confront them, to stop them as soon as possible. It was the only thing that would put his mind at ease with everything that had happened.

He had the plan, he had investigated the area, it would be easy to get in, get the evidence; with a little luck the car they had used for the accident would be there and he could take pictures of it. Before the end of the day, I could send all the evidence to the police station. After that, it would be easy and those people would be in serious trouble.

He left the car at a safe distance so they wouldn't hear or see him coming. As Johnny had told them, it was a block of abandoned factories. But they weren't hiding too much. Several expensive cars and people were coming and going from one side to the other. But he didn't see the accident car anywhere.

Had they gotten rid of it already?

He walked carefully, unseen, took some pictures, he was sure he could get something out of it, stolen guns, drugs, anything. Johnny had said that these people wanted to take over all the illegal markets. There was no better way to catch them somewhere.

He got too close because, among all the cars out there, he couldn't help thinking that one of those was to blame for what TK was going through; a part of him wanted to burn it, destroy it since he had no chance of taking it out on anyone physically and he got too close.

One thing his father had been right about, when he got carried away with a personal matter, it was easier than ever for him to screw up, make a mistake, and someone who shouldn't find him.

"Hey!" You could tell he expected the shout, but to hear it just as he found the car.

He snapped a few pictures of it and took pictures of some of the guys who were around. He was sure if he put their faces into the database, he'd find matches for sure.

The other man shouted at him again and that drew the attention of other people, all armed, of course, all the criminals had their guns ready, while he couldn't use them unless they shot him first. Suddenly he was surrounded by armed guys, ready to kill him.

He was tempted to get into real trouble to put all those bastards in jail with the highest possible penalty. But if he stayed, they would certainly kill him and that certainly wouldn't do TK any good, so he ran.

He had the necessary evidence, the photos were enough to prove that these people had been guilty of the attempted murder of TK. But the car had been too far away, he had gone into the lion's den and now he had no time to turn back before he was caught.

He heard several gunshots, he didn't turn around, he didn't have time to stop. He turned into an area of trees and found himself in front of a group of motorcycles parked in the most apparent way as if someone had left them there so he could escape.

Carlos had never stolen anything in his entire life and did not imagine that the first time, it would be in a situation like this, to save his life from a group of armed drug traffickers.

TK woke up screaming.

There was no way to sleep since he had woken up without having nightmares. He wasn't sure if they were memories or not, because no one else had lived through the accident, only Carlos had been close, but the feeling of being inside the car, feeling that death was near; the fear of not being able to go back to Carlos and tell him how much he loved him.

Then there was that dream.

Carlos was by his side, holding him, cradling him, making him feel good and all the fear, all the other sensations disappeared. He simply felt good, protected, and loved.

I love you so much, my child. You don't have to be afraid, everything will be all right. The Carlos of his dreams had told him. Whatever happens, I will always be here, with you, for you. The only thing you don't have to do is to stop fighting because I won't... never... for us, I won't stop fighting.

And then he felt trapped again in the darkness, the fear, and the silence.

Carlos was not there, he heard his voice, but it sounded far away, an echo lost in space and time that he could not reach because he was trapped and he fell, fell and kept falling until he woke up suddenly.

He trembled as he awoke and for the moment the presence of his father or Judd did not seem enough to calm him. He had nightmares about Carlos, that the accident had happened to him, that he was in the car too. Sometimes they dreamed that his father didn't want to tell him anything so as not to worry him anymore, but Carlos was in another room just the same.

That afternoon he woke up screaming Carlos' name, he didn't remember falling asleep, but he had a terrible feeling that something had happened to Carlos and they weren't telling him.

He shook hard, as much as he couldn't move his legs, he was strong and not too aware of where he was or what was happening until Owen held his face with both hands and forced him to look him in the face.

"Where's Carlos?" "He's gone to the police station." "No, he's not at the police station, something bad happened to him, I know, are you hiding something from me dad? Please tell me, tell me what's happened to him." "Nothing happened to me, baby."

Owen stepped aside and made way for a newly arrived Carlos, who looked like he'd just run a marathon, covered in dust.

"Carlos? Babe?"

The cop sat on the edge of the bed and kissed TK several times. He was smiling, though no one understood why exactly.

"It's going to be all right. It's going to be all right now. I have pictures of the car that attacked us, with any luck, those people are very close to rotting in jail."

TK sat up and grabbed Carlos' arm, the cop protested and stared at the same thing TK was looking at. There was a bloodstain; it wasn't very showy, but it was clear that it was.

"Have you been shot?" "It's not important, I'm fine."

TK made mention of slapping him if it weren't for the fact that he was too glad he was fine.

#angst week #memory #Hurt TK #Carlos in danger #tarlos #lone star

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lonestarbabe · 3 years

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ALSJSKSJS I mean at least they’re consistent in writing Owen. He isn’t written well, like.... at all and we know this but at least they’re consistent with it. Like he’s a garbage father and captain and according to Owen, the world revolves around him, trying to save the day no matter what, even more than being there for his son. But at least they’re consistent with it because I don’t think I could handle Owen being wishy-washy and acting like a genuine good parent one minute than lashing out and acting like TK doesn’t exist for 5 episodes or more after that. Like I would genuinely be more upset at him than I am now LMAO. And honesty saying that you love your kid is one thing and I know that he does love TK. I KNOW he does. He just can literally never prove it or show for this love. And I’m not saying he has to do something drastic to prove it but loving your kid is literally the bare minimum of being a parent and he can’t even prove it. He only cares when TK is hurt or nearly dying (overdose, gun shot wound, kidnapping, nearly dying in the house fire). And that, despite Owen constantly having the vibe of a dad who loves his kid, makes me question him. Like I KNOW you love TK, but you can’t even prove it because you’re literally never there for him. He never listen to TK, his apologizes to TK are insincere and he always find a way to make TK’s issues about himself. It’s just confusing to me. But again, at least they are consistent at writing Owen as the piece of garbage that he’s presented as lol

Owen: I SWEAR I love my son, and I regret any moments of being an asshole to him.

Owen two seconds later: you know I have a good excuse for this, TK. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. It just kind of happened.

The vacillating between being a good father and a bad father could be interesting because it could highlight the struggle that Owen is going through and how it makes it hard to do the things that would make his life most fulfilling. I like that they show Owen wanting to be a good dad but often falling short. I don't like that he never gets anywhere with it, and there are few moments of acknowledgement (and I don't need Owen to acknowledge this necessarily, but I need the show to show this dynamic more clearly to prove that there's intentionality with their characterization. Characters can be un self aware, but the show itself should show self-awareness in my view). They have good bones. I mean, I won't necessarily love Owen ever, and he'll never be my fave character, but he doesn't have to be uninteresting. In 911, you have Bobby, and he's similar to Owen in that they show him as a leader and a heroic figure who has intense trauma. But with Owen, the hero part of him is played up too much that we lose the human part of him. They kind of use his victories as a way of undermining his flaws and lessening them rather than letting the flaws and strengths coexist as they do in normal people.

When I watch him interact with TK, it is usually a wreck. You're very right about the insincerity. Owen often feels like he's going through the motions of what a good father should be. He knows what makes a good father, and he wants to be a good father, but he doesn't have the mindset to do more than go thought the motions. It's just really interesting to see how much he stays the same while characters like TK and Judd have developed a lot. Because the show spends so much time on Owen, I find it really off putting that they don't take his character anywhere. I don't need big changes, but I need to see how events influence him.

Like he's guilt trippy and he like you said he doesn't listen. He doesn't have to see everything the same way that TK does, but in good relationships, you're able to listen to what another person is saying without becoming defensive and jumping to judgment. As it stands, TK and Owen can't get anywhere because Owen is stuck in the same old mindset. He has not overcome his trauma, and it's one things to have continued struggles. I love seeing characters who continue to struggle with their trauma and mental health BUT it's frustrating how in denial Owen is (and in many ways this is realistic, but I want to see progress!)

Sadly, their are parents out there like Owen who love their kids but are incapable of showing them that love because of a proclivity towards selfishness. And Owen does have trauma that worsens this for him, but that was no excuse for basically ditching his child. And if he wants a relationship with his adult son, he's going to have to work for it.

Owen is fascinating in many ways because you can tell that he wants to be the perfect father. he likes to give off that image, but at the same time, he struggles to show it when it most matters. And if they were just an iota more self-aware of Owen being an bad father, he could be a great character even if he wasn't a likeable one. As it stands, they under address it, so it feels like a writing foible more than an intentional choice. I do think the writers have awareness of Owen's flaws, but they really don't highlight them adequately or in a meaningful way.

#long #owen talk #owen strand (derogatory)#season 2 talk #911 lone star #asks

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sunriseseance · 4 years

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giRL WHAT DO U MEAN KLAUS IS GONNA SNAP EYE

ANON LEMME TELL YA

Okay but also I am an English Major so that means telling you is going to involve an essay w concrete evidence. I will try to use the fuck word as to be more fun and approachable. Also, I’m gonna split it into two parts. First, things that happen in canon in s1 that I feel point to Klaus taking a turn for the, uh, worse; second, promo and interviews and other paratext that makes me think something strange is afoot. As much as I, as a postmodernist, love paratext, I still have to say that I think anything paratextual is less important than anything textual. ANYWAY let's get into it.

Klaus, in season one, goes through a lot. Like a ridiculous amount. Everyone suffers, and has suffered, throughout the duration of the show but I think it is important to note how much of what Klaus goes through that we SEE. Luther was alone on the moon for 4 years, and we see maybe 20 seconds of it. Allison lost her daughter. Five went through decades of survival-isolation. Vanya was left out of everything. All of these things happen, by and large, off-screen. We see them dealing with these things, and acting in certain ways because of them, but the stuff that Klaus goes through is viscerally present tense compared to this. We watch him get tortured. We watch a PTSD flashback, and we watch his brother dismiss it. We watch, on screen, him lose the love of his life. We watch him go through withdrawal. We watch him fucking (see? I promised) literally die. I think that this is because Klaus, unlike the others, is being set up to get Worse. We see something sort of similar with Vanya, but it’s rehashing old traumas, not introducing new ones. (Vanya slashing Allison’s throat and Diego losing Eudora both are present tense and I do not want to minimize these AT ALL but Allison’s is something I think she will deal with in s2 given what we’ve seen, and Diego seems to deal with his in s1 at least in part). Klaus seems to me to be experiencing shit that can push him over an edge.

At the same time that he’s experiencing this shit, he is becoming much more powerful. We hear Reg say he has untapped potential. We watch him, 48 hours sober, accidentally making ben corporeal. We see him die and come back to life. And, just cause this is my disjointed post and I can do what I want, we see him use telekenesis. Straight up. I’m not talking about the dubious things like the briefcase exploding or the coin or the umbrella falling; in the club he uses his mind to locate the pill he threw across a room. The pill has the same aura effect as his hands do later when he summons Ben. That is, IMO, unquestionably him using telekenesis, and it happens right before Reg tells him about his untapped potential.

So, to sum up, Klaus goes through brand new things in present tense, and he is getting wildly more powerful.

He’s also angry, and mean.

Klaus has a lot of anger that I think fandom just straight up does not address. He shouts at Five in e2, he steals from a grocery store to get back at Five and Luther in e3, he is INCREDIBLY bitter about his siblings not caring about him in e4, he breaks the briefcase and starts a fight and kicks the tire of Diego's busted car and flips off Hazel and Cha Cha in e5, he gets angry at Diego for doing what HE asked him to do in e6, he mocks Ben for being incorporeal in e7, he makes fun of and causes sonic pain to Luther in e8, he has a (for want of a better word) freakout about them locking Vanya up for new and uncontrolled powers in e9, and he is angry about being sidelined to lookout in e10 to the extent that it’s what’s on his mind when he saves their lives via his new powers. None of this is invalid, I don’t think. He’s been through a lot. He is imperfect and angry and has spent a lifetime trying to be numb INSTEAD of angry. But, as he gets sober, that becomes less possible. He gets angrier and meaner the more sober he gets, thus far. Which I think signals that things are gonna get worse before he gets better. I do think he’ll get better, though, to be clear.

Now, onto some s2 speculation. In season 1 Klaus expresses certainty that the Hargreeves will not come rescue him, and he was correct. He can see the dead and he is (maybe) sober. I think s2 will start with him thinking they left him behind to save the world, and I think this will motivate him to delve into his powers more. Experiment on himself, or let himself be experimented on, while stewing in anger and hurt that from HIS POV is legitimate. I see the images and I see someone who is clearly performing, and also someone who is drinking again. He also is, crucially, 5 years away from being able to interact with the person he loved, and he thinks everyone he loves abandoned him. I think he’s going to be meaner the next time we see him.

Which brings us to some meta stuff: Klaus looks angry in every photo we see of him in s2. Even as he is actively doing a spin, he looks angry and sad. In the cover photo he is looking at the camera, while everyone else is looking away, and he looks GODDAMN mean. In an interview, Sheehan said that Klaus had a new addiction in s2, and I certainly think that could be using his powers in some sort of Snapped way (he also said that the comic thing he wanted most was floating. Not TK, but floating. Could be nothing, but could be something). This all means a lot less to me than the direction he’s being pointed in s1, but it IS interesting.

SOOOOOO in conclusion: Klaus is being written as Still Dealing more often than the others, he is being written to have untapped potential, and he is FUCKING angry. I think our good bitch is gonna snap.

#The Umbrella Academy #tua meta #klaus hargreeves #I hope none of this comes off as dismissive in any way. I think all of them have struggled a lot #this is more about how the strugglng is being dealt with by the show

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