#animal race contest

[skitskatdacat63]

those 2011 pics remind me of hard the McLaren race suits used to fuck, I loved the vodafone era suits so much 🥹

YES AGREED!!! I love the Vodafone McLaren livery, literally peak!!!!!

Thank you for sending this ask bcs now I get to talk about 2011 in particular. There were these special Saturday race suits and they're all so pretty!!! Hugo Boss did a design competition to celebrate their partnership with McLaren and different artists made different designs for the Quali days. They're so beautiful 🥹🥹 Why can't they do anything fun like that now???? I digress, I went through all the Qualis and compiled pics of all of them!!

[bunnypig18]

Seventeen Text Posts (5) | (1) (2) (3) (4) (6)

[cevanstiddies]

I rode the bull for 4 minutes straight while Mark was watching, hope he knew I was trying to show off my skills

[worstloki]

The fact the Western fantasy genre doesn’t hold a candle against Asian media clothing

[tumbler-polls]

You've heard of the Chinese Zodiac, let's make a Tumblr one. 12 creatures with the most votes win.

Full contest: https://www.tumblr.com/tumbler-polls/744082268779331584/zodiac

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #3: Of Apples and Academic Frenemies

Au where Jason and Danny are attending the same college course on mythology and classical literature and they are always getting into debates about the depictions of the characters and the historical context of stories and stuff bc the both have a different exposure to the myths. Like Jason knows literal demigods and Amazons but Danny knows Pandora and the Greek myth related ghosts plus time travel from Clockwork and the infi-map. The debates can get heated at times but the respect each others intellectual takes.

This creates a peculiar situation where everyone in the class thinks they are academic rivals who hate each other (except for the few with their shipping goggles on and sense the homoerotic tension underlying their debates) and are deeply invested in watching them interact like their own personal drama even thought at this point in time they are at best friendly acquaintances and at worst annoying classmates.

Jason rants to his family about his debate partner/rival bc he’s happy to have some who will talk to him ad-nauseam abt this stuff but also bc he wants to complain about how Danny's a “smart but annoying little twink who’s got some real audacity”. And while the batfam is happy that Jason is experiencing some normal life things like an academic frenemy they’d love to stop hearing about this guy's “smug fucking smirk” and the “annoying gleam in his eyes". They are worried that Jason will snap and beat this guy up for being too annoying. Well, except Tim who thinks Jason would rather make out with this guy than debate with him.

One day the course decides to do a big themed party/fundraiser to save up for a class trip to an excavation site of some temple ruins or something. Both of them volunteer for the organizing committee bc of the offered extra credit. This encourages the two of them to start seeing each other more and to hang out outside of their classes so the can work on event planning. Over time they actually become pretty good friends (Danny's presence filters Jason's toxic ecto and cures pit rage due to increased exposure. It was happening anyways as classmates but the close proximity sped up the process) and Jason and Danny develop mutual crushes on each other.

For the event they do, like an Olympic games style format and have people sign up in teams for events a couple of weeks beforehand. Anyone in any sort of classical/mythology related course can join and they opened the event for public spectating. They have a few traditional events like a foot race, long jump and chariot race. But the also have some silly ones like Medusa's Snakes, where they shove their faces into bowls of whipped cream and fish out gummy worms, Pandora's Amphora, where they stick there hands into a box/jar of mystery contents (grapes, slime, a live animal like rats or kittens, a bunch of glitter, soda, etc.) and whoever keeps their hand in the longest wins, and Gladiator Fights, where they try to knock each other into a foam pit with those foam and rubber jousting sticks and the such.

Neither Danny, nor Jason want to participate for fear of their physical/supernatural abilities being discovered so the both get talked into doing the emceeing and commentary for the events. They make a really good duo, snarking and bantering with each other, playing off each other's energy and providing fun commentary to the events. Everyone, including the batfam who came to spectate, is a bit baffled by how well they are getting along bc last they checked these two were rivals of a sort, mildly annoying at best and actively antagonistic at worst. However, they really seem to be enjoying themselves.

The last event of the day is a trivia contest, which they both decide to take part in and let someone else take over the emceeing. The final winning trivia question is "what trope was falsely understood as a marriage proposal or declaration of love by misinformed media, that was actually closer to a ploy of seduction and indication of sexual desire according to Greek texts" and the both ring in at the same time to say "tossing an apple to someone" and an tie for the win. They both go up on stage to receive the prize (idk a gift card or smth) and shake hands before walking away in opposite directions.

Then suddenly Danny calls out to Jason just before he leaves the stage and chucks an apple he seemingly produced out of nowhere at him. The apple has a note with the time and date of a dinner reservation on it and when Jason looks back up at Danny he see the slightly flushed boy tentatively smiling at him.

" What do ya say Jase? Will you go out with me?"

And instead of replying Jason just straight up kisses him in front of everyone. Everyone else is gobsmacked by this whole turn of events except Tim who's cackling his head off, screaming "I FUCKING KNEW IT". When the two of them break apart they grin at each other widely and Jason drags Danny of the stage presumably to go make out somewhere.

[sophrosynesworld]

Betrayal (pt.3)

Part One: You find your Pro-Hero boyfriend rummaging through your office.

The midday sun pours through large bay windows, casting warm shadows on the wooden floor. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods mingles in the air, wrapping me in a comforting embrace. I adjust my sitting position across from Nejire, a bright smile dancing on her lips as she leans in, her azure eyes sparkling.

"I still can't believe you dated him," Nejire teases, her voice laced with playful disbelief. She takes a sip of her iced latte, her gaze never leaving mine.

I force a laugh, stirring my coffee absently. "Me either, I don't know what I was thinking." The words feel hollow, a familiar ache in my chest. I take a sip, the warmth of the coffee soothing.

Nejire rolls her eyes dramatically. "I bet even date nights turned into some kind of contest."

I manage a small smile, memories flashing before my eyes. "You have no idea." I reminisce. "Last year, we went to an amusement park and he insisted on winning every game at the arcade after a little kid laughed at him for missing the balloon. By the end of the night, I had so many stuffed animals that we could barely carry them all."

Hado bursts into laughter, her joy contagious. "Is it wrong I can't imagine him ever just relaxing or having fun?"

I try to laugh along, the sound feeling foreign in my throat. "Only on Sunday."

Nejire's expression softens, concern evident in her eyes. "Hey, are you okay? You seem… off."

I sigh, the façade crumbling. "It's just… I still love him, Hado. Despite everything, I thought we had something real… I thought he was going to marry me." My voice wavers, the words heavy with longing.

Nejire reaches across the table, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm so sorry. I really am. I can't imagine how hard that must be for you."

Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away. "It's just hard to let go, you know? We had so many good moments, and I can't help but think about what could have been." I pause, the weight of my next words sinking in. "I don't have anyone else, Hado. My father sacrificed everything to raise me. I can't turn my back on him."

Nejire nods. "I hear you. Love isn't something you can just switch off. You’re making the right decision, no matter who you pick."

I sigh again, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering sadness. "Thanks, Nejire."

"Anytime."

Just as I begin to speak, my phone vibrates on the table, the sudden motion startling me. I glance at the screen, my father's name flashing. My heart lifts instantly, a genuine smile spreading across my face.

"Speak of the devil." I pick up the call, anticipation bubbling in my chest. "Hi, Dad!"

"Sweetheart!" His voice booms with warmth and affection, instantly making me feel lighter. "How's my girl doing today?"

"I'm good. Just catching up with Nejire in Aichi. What's up?"

"I'm sending a car to pick you up," he states, a hint of excitement in his tone. "I have a surprise for you at the office. Think you can make it?"

"Of course!" I hear the joy in my own voice, my mind racing with possibilities.

"Great! See you soon, sweetheart. Love you."

"Love you too, Dad." I end the call and turn back to Nejire. "Looks like I have to cut this short. My dad's sending a car to pick me up."

Nejire's eyes widen with curiosity. "A surprise, huh? Sounds exciting! You have to tell me all about it later."

We talk a little longer about work and mutual friends. For a moment, I feel normal again, like I never came home that night. Would he have told me?

Just as Nejire finishes speaking, a tall figure approaches our table. I look up to see one of my dad's bodyguards, Taro. He stands a few steps away, waiting patiently for me to acknowledge him. His presence is a stark contrast to the cozy atmosphere, his formal attire and stoic expression reminding me of my reality.

"Excuse me, miss," his voice is low and rich, a touch of formality in his tone. Nejire raises an eyebrow at me after ogling him, her smile hidden behind a raised cup. "The car is ready whenever you are."

I smile at him, appreciating his professionalism. "Thank you. I'll be out in just a moment."

Turning back to Nejire, I give her a quick hug. "Looks like it's time for me to go. Thanks for everything, Nejire. Maybe our paths will cross at work sometime soon."

"It was so much fun last time," she says, returning the hug. "I hope he's your surprise," Hado winks, causing my cheeks to flush.

With one last smile, I gather my things and follow the guard out of the café. A sleek black car is waiting at the curb, its polished surface gleaming in the sunlight.

As I slide into the back seat, Taro waits patiently, then once I’m seated, he softly closes the door.

The car glides smoothly through the bustling city streets, the hum of the engine a soothing background noise. I sit back, fingers tapping lightly against the cool leather of the seat. The cityscape blurs past, tall buildings casting long shadows in the afternoon light. The faint scent of Taro's cologne mixes with the car's pristine interior, creating an oddly calming atmosphere.

I glance out the window, watching people go about their day. My mind drifts to my dad and the surprise he mentioned. He always has a way of making even the smallest gestures feel grand. A smile tugs at my lips, remembering the birthday party he threw for me 3 years ago—the night I meet Mr. and Mrs. Bakugo for the first time.

The car comes to a gentle stop in front of the skyscrapers. Their sleek, modern design looms over the surrounding buildings, a testament to success. Taro steps out first, moving with practiced efficiency as he opens my door. He extends his hand, his expression still.

"Miss," he says, his voice as steady as ever.

I take his hand, a shiver running down my spine at the surprising cold temperature. "Thanks, Taro." His grip is firm yet gentle, helping me rise from the car with ease.

We head into the lobby, and through security with ease. Before stepping into the elevator, the doors closing with a soft whoosh. The ride up is silent, except for the gentle hum of hold music. Taro stands beside me, his eyes forward. I steal a glance at him, wondering what goes on in his mind during this job.

The elevator dings softly as we reach our floor. The doors slide open, revealing a spacious lobby lined with modern art. Taro gestures for me to lead the way, and I do so, my heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

The receptionist quickly picks up her phone announcing my presence to him as I pass. Taro steps forward, opening the office door allowing me to step inside.

My dad's office is as grand as ever, a blend of luxury and power. The walls are adorned with articles and photographs, each telling a story of his success. He stands by the window, hands clasped behind his back, looking out over the city.

"Papa," I call softly, stepping further inside. The faint scent of cologne mingles with the rich aroma of leather and wood.

He turns, a broad smile lighting up his face. "Sweetheart," he says warmly, opening his arms. I move into his embrace, feeling the familiar strength and reassurance in his hug.

"It's good to see you," I say, pulling back to look at him. "You mentioned a surprise?"

He chuckles. "You’re quick with it. Come, sit." Dad gestures to the chair opposite to his desk. As I settle, I notice the subtle signs of wear on his eyes.

"You've done a lot of work for our company, and I wanted to show you how much I appreciate your sacrifices."

"You didn't have to, Dad. You paid for my law school, I can read over files every once and awhile."

"Nonsense," he says, waving away my words. "You deserve the world, my dear." Papa reaches into a drawer, pulling out a sleek black box. He hands it to me, his eyes glinting with something I can't quite place.

I open the box, revealing a stunning necklace, the gems catching the light in a dazzling display. "Oh, Dad, it's beautiful," I breathe, touched by the gesture.

He smiles, but there's something in his eyes—something fleeting. "Only the best for my girl."

I reach out, giving his hand a squeeze. " thank you. It’s breathtaking."

"Anything for you," he says, his voice smooth and reassuring. "Now, tell me all about your day."

As I recount my time at the café with Nejire, he listens intently, his expression a blend of warmth and pride. But then he shifts in his seat, his tone becoming casual—too casual.

"So, how's Katsuki doing?" he questions, his tone playful.

My heart skips a beat, and I force a neutral expression. "We broke up," I reply, trying to keep my tone steady. "It just didn't work out."

He raises an eyebrow, surprised. "Really? What happened?"

I hesitate, feeling a strange tension in the air. "We just grew apart. Our priorities were different."

He nods slowly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Well, sometimes these things happen for a reason. You deserve someone who truly appreciates you."

Something about his reaction feels off, but I can't put my finger on it. "Yeah, I guess so."

He leans back, eyes never leaving mine. "Did he give you any trouble? You know I can handle it if he did."

"No, Dad. It was mutual. We're both adults."

"Of course, of course," he says smoothly, but there's an edge to his voice. "Just looking out for you."

I force a smile, but the nagging feeling in the back of my mind won't go away. "You always do."

"Now, let's focus on the positive. How about dinner tonight?"

"Sure," I agree, my mind is still spinning. Am I overanalyzing or is this… weird.

Part 4:

[formulaarchive]

The Jaguar inflatable donkey saga.

During Jaguar Racing's final F1 season in 2004, one of the team's mechanics took an inflatable of Donkey from Shrek they won as part of a contest held by Ribena to F1 events. From the Belgian Grand Prix to the season finale at the Brazilian Grand Prix, the inflatable was present in the F1 paddock, with A. LOT. of photos.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaguar Racing competed in Formula One from 2000 to 2004. After underachieving in the sport, Ford lowered the team's budget for its last season, before the team was sold and became Red Bull Racing from 2005 onwards. In an attempt to gain positive PR, Jaguar would engage in a variety of stunts throughout the season, including promoting the film Ocean's Twelve at the Monaco Grand Prix by inserting two $300,000 diamonds on the nosecones of each car, driven by Mark Webber and Christian Klien. After Klien crashed out on the opening lap, the diamond on his car went missing and was never recovered.

Later that season, a team member entered a competition held by Ribena, which was giving away thousands of prizes related to the upcoming animated film Shrek 2. They won an inflatable of the character Donkey. In an attempt to boost morale and distract themselves from the very possibility they would be made redundant following the season's conclusion, a mechanic took or according to Tim Malyon, stole the inflatable, with it travelling from the team's headquarters in Milton Keynes to Spa-Francorchamps.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Initially, the inflatable was to have been exclusively present at the Belgian Grand Prix for a single photoshoot. However, it became a symbol of resistance for the team, who were progressively discouraged with the running of the team, which reached a boiling point when Ford announced on 17th September that it would put Jaguar up for sale, potentially risking over 300 jobs. While Jaguar's PR team banned the inflatable from appearing at any subsequent races for fear it would damage the team's reputation, Donkey would travel to the remaining races for more photoshoots. This included photos of it being within the cockpits of each constructor's car, as well as light-hearted and occasionally risqué interactions with other team members.

pictures below

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[rene-spade]

have y’all ever seen that movie the roommate where this girl becomes super obsessed with her roommate and gets the girl’s dead sisters name tattooed 💀💀 that’s super invasive but imagine the grid guys doing something like that

the scummier examples:

or you have the date of an old pet’s passing and lando gets it tatted out of “empathy” for you he’s shameless and immediately shows you

like in growing up räikkönen contest, you have your fathers racing number (7) tattooed and max gets it tattooed as well

carlos having an abundance of your personal important dates tatted on him, hiding under his clothes and he only shows you when he eventually has to

some cuter thoughts:

kimi gets your name tatted in a very obvious place and very early on in your relationship, esp mclaren era kimi

daniel is the type to get a little animated portrait of you tatted on his thigh (or your lipstick prints)

[swarm-of-polls-in-a-trench-coat]

Welcome to the 2024 Horned Animal Race! Animals with horns or antlers are racing! Our 7 contestants are: unicorn, deer, bull, cow, ram, goat, and yak!

[snapghoul]

Head-canons 3

Growing up + Mr. & Mrs. Seresin and Sophia

Note: I’ve hit a block with mini fics and I need requests to help the brain rot flow because I’ve been staring at a blank doc for a while.

Warning: mention of child loss.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

JAKE

★ Jake was the kid who had to get a matchbox car or tiny plane from the store every time they went.

★ He helped his dad cut the lawn as a kid. By help meaning he sat on his dad’s knee and “drove” the mower.

★ Can draw fairly well, won his second grade class art contest by of drawing the Blue Angels squad. His mother had it framed in her office.

★ Used most of his allowance on Galicia at the arcade in town. Held the highest score for a year.

★ Did the water bottle muffler on his bike.

★ Knows how to sew his own clothes, his mother taught him how after she got tired to mending the tears in his pants.

★ As a baby when he was done napping he would shake the crib bars until someone came to get him.

★ All his favorite matchbox cars are still lined up on a windowsill at his parents house.

★ Had the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling.

★ Had a favorite chicken, her name was Candy.

★ Had beef with a lot of teachers in school, he wasn’t a quiet kid.

★ Competed in the rodeo with Tyler, he did barrel racing and roping with their mom’s horse Storm Warning. He won a few times.

★ Touched the electric cattle fence because older sis Sophia told him it was off. It wasn’t.

★ Sucked at hangman in school (still does)

TYLER

ᯤ Excellent at math, was in honors and AP all though high school.

ᯤ Flipped his first truck doing donuts in a field, it was fine aside from a few dents.

ᯤ Liked to garden with his mom, he had a ljttle kiddy gardening set. He liked to dig the holes for the seeds and flowers.

ᯤ Had multiple concussions from the rodeo. Only had one 3d grade concussion and it was his last.

ᯤ Almost got struck by lighting when he was ten trying to get a look at the storm.

ᯤ Got stood up on prom night and ended up not going. Jake bailed on his date so Ty wasn’t alone.

ᯤ Released crickets into the school hallway.

ᯤ Climbed out of his crib when he was done with nap time.

ᯤ Spray painted his bike red (it got everywhere)

ᯤ Was the bottom bunk when he shared a room with Jake.

ᯤ Was a stuffed animal kid, his parents have totes of them still.

ᯤ Liked to set his marshmallows on fire.

ᯤ Sophia locked him in the chicken coop more than once.

ᯤ Won the science fair two years in a row, he build a mini version of Dorothy and a tornado.

THE SERESIN FAM

✿ Brisket.

✿ Sophia is four years older than the twins. She is a veterinarian in Austin, she’s been married for two years.

✿ She originally did not like her brothers, she didn’t want anything to do with them when they were infants.

✿ There was supposed to be a another sibling, a girl, before the twins were born. Her name was Dana.

✿ Mrs. Seresin’s name is Rosalie. Her maiden name was Hayes.

✿ Mr. Seresin’s name is Cole.

✿ Mrs. Seresin has a small business, she crochets many different things. She sells a lot at craft fairs.

✿ Mr. Seresin regularly mixed up the twins as babies, hence the color coding.

✿ They have one goat named Guy. Guy will stand on the porch and bleat until he gets his daily apple slice.

✿ All three siblings have a strong and loving relationship with their parents. Both mom and dad support them in everything.

(Please tell me yall get the crickets in the hallway reference)

[hpmort]

This a race of nonbinary rock people. Yes, like Steven Universe, no this is not a rip-off, no did I not create it, that was Haruko Ichikawa in 2012, which was one year before Steven Universe’s pilot was produced, and no, I am not saying that Steven Universe stole from them.

They all have the exact same bodies, reproduce asexually, have not made contact with any contact with gonochoric sentients, and all use they/them in the official translations.

They sometimes have been known to engage in romantic relationships, and there’s also that general homoerotic/Soft Yuri dynamic going on to an extent, like one of a sfw fan-service anime that doesn’t want to alienate any potential viewers that aren’t fujoshi and himedanshi.

If you know what, if any, gender is associated with their first person pronouns in Japanese, do not take that into account.

(Yes this is to prove a point which wasn’t even contested)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i cosplayed a character that is darker skinned than me?

i (23m, white-passing, nonblack) wanted to cosplay a character because i really like his design, and my friend was going to cosplay a matching character. problem is, i forgot until i already got excited about the cosplay that the character is brown (unspecified race, but like a medium tan-light brown) and i am not. i would never ever ever do brownface or anything like that, if i cosplayed the character i'd just be a... whiter version of him. idk if that counts as whitewashing the character, because im not intentionally drawing him as paler than he is, im just existing as me, but it feels kinda scummy regardless and id like some more opinions on if this would be a fucked up thing to do or not.

some notes:

-the character has many other design elements that would make him recognizable aside from his skin tone, he has a very specific outfit and hairstyle, which is why (without looking at references) i kinda forgot about his skin tone.

-his skin tone is not at all relevant to his character/storyline, and where he/his family is from is never mentioned. its just part of his design.

-whether i cosplay this character or not has no bearing on if my friend cosplays their character (which coincides with their race). their cosplay is the more intricate/cooler one anyway so i would just be there to support that lol.

-there are other paler-skinned characters i could cosplay with them to go with their character too, but none of them are my style/body type/would really match or be fun to cosplay. if i didnt do this one, i probably wouldnt cosplay anyone from this series at all.

-ive cosplayed many asian characters before despite not being asian, because im in a lot of anime and manga fandoms where the majority of characters are japanese, and being to many cons there have been hundreds of non-asian anime cosplayers too and no one seems to mind at all, even and especially asian fans ive met. but it feels different when its something like skin tone, and the series isn't from a country where everyone is that race, like anime and manga.

-i know logically im not "taking away" from anyone else's ability to cosplay the character, and i know i wont be the best cosplayer either since im fat lol. im not gonna enter in any contests or pretend like im the most accurate, i just wanna have some fun and highlight my friend's cosplay.

-since i know everyone's gonna ask, the character in question is thistle from dungeon meshi. i wouldn't cosplay a character like kabru, but it feels different because of the design that thistle has? idk.

PLEASE tell me if im out of line or said smth rank, i honestly just want opinions on this.

[tylermileslockett]

Theseus #7 (the Black Sail) Theseus, still heartsick from the loss of his new love, journeys back to Athens to reunite with his father. But in his grief, Theseus forgets his father’s order; to change the black sail of his ship to white, signaling that he has survived. King Aegeus, seeing the black sail and becoming overwhelmed with despair at the death of his son, leaps from a cliff to his death into the sea. And forever after, in honor of the king, the sea there has been known as the Aegean Sea. Theseus, being the heir, is crowned King of Athens, and his reign ushers in a period of prosperity, political unification, and the creation of the Panathenaea Festival and Ismeian Games. Theseus is credited with implementing Synoecism; political unification of the surrounding twelve Poleis (city-states) of Attica (region of surrounding peninsula countryside towns) to the centrally unified city-state of Athens. This unification paved the way for the seeds of political democracy. During this time the Athens became more diverse with the acceptance of foreigners and strengthening of the maritime trading port.

         The Panathenaea was an annual festival to honor Athena; patron goddess of Athens. There was a large procession through the city, cutting through the Agora (central public square for markets and assembly) ending at the top of the Acropolis (elevated hill citadel) where animals would be sacrificed and a lavish embroidered robe offered to Athena in the Parthenon (temple for Athena). We can still see the festival figures of the procession carved upon the frieze of the Parthenon. The festival also included competition games, horse races, epic poetry, and musical contests performed in the Odeon (small, roofed theatre with acoustics.) The Ismeian Games were athletic games and musical contests held in Corinth every two years, in honor of Poseidon.

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[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

What native Gallifreyan species are there?

Gallifrey has a diverse range of fauna, both native and introduced. Despite claims of minimal ecological impact, the installation of the Eye of Harmony and millions of years of Time Lord civilisation have significantly altered Gallifrey's original biosphere.

🦋 Invertebrates

Beatitude Flies: Begin as maggots and pupate into golden-winged nocturnal insects. They use nectar to create helium in their bellies and are attracted to light and decay.

Butterflies: Various species flutter across Gallifrey.

Bees: Essential for pollination.

Gullet Grubs: Likely to live in digestive tracts of larger mammals, or similar environments.

Blossom Thieves: Possibly insects that steal nectar or pollen.

Scrubblers: Likely small, cleaning insects.

Neversuch Beetles, Sandbeetles, Waspbeetles: Various beetles.

Dustworms: Likely live in dry, dusty environments.

Scissors Bugs: Possibly predatory insects with sharp mandibles.

Flutterwings: Gigantic insects (3 meters by 25 meters) that never land. Five races include Wild Endeavor, Mandrigal, Silver-Band, Blue Crystal, and Perdition.

Snails

Water-Sligs: Likely aquatic or semi-aquatic molluscs.

Web-Spinning Insects: Including spiders about an inch long.

Other dangerous invertebrates: There are also nasty creatures that live beneath big stones.

🐟 Marine Life

Singing Yaddlefish: Notable for their song, and they can be eaten.

Kittensharks: Hatch from eggs and presumably grow into Catsharks.

Axolotl Salamanders: Amphibious creatures with regenerative abilities.

🐍 Elapids

Taipan: A venomous snake, 10 metres long.

Venal Snakes: Possibly nest-stealers or highly venomous.

Bat-Snakes: Presumably flying snakes.

Dinosauria: 20-meter-long reptiles resembling brontosaurs with thick chitinous scales and serrated teeth.

🦅 Avians

Owls: Symbol of Rassilon.

Flurry Birds: Likely small, fast-moving birds.

Trunkikes: Game birds whose eggs are often eaten.

Air Diamonds: Fly in the upper atmosphere, possibly crystalline or bioluminescent.

Song Birds: Various species.

Gargantosaurs: Dinosaur-like creatures, twice the size of a hab-bloc, with two legs, vestigial wings (with purple and white feathers), and four eyes.

🦣 Mammals

Plungbolls: Thumbnail-sized furry creatures living in mountains, attach en masse to warm objects.

Taffelshrews: Edible rodent-like mammals.

Fledershrews: Bat-like, mushroom eaters, nearly extinct.

Cobblemice: Mice that sprout wings.

Rovie Mice: Field-dwelling, long-lived if kept safe, sometimes pets. They have short memories.

Moss-Rats: Possibly rodents that live in marshes with moss-like camouflage.

Vex: Burrowing animals.

Gallifreyan Womprats: 1-metre-long rats with fifteen legs.

Pig-Rats: Inhabit the Drylands, presumably combining porcine and rodent traits.

Rabbits

Flubbles: Small six-legged koalas.

Unnamed rounder rabbit-like creatures

Ounce-Apes: Might be tiny monkeys that are particularly agile.

Sealak: Perhaps a kind of seal, often eaten.

Bear-Ass: A donkey-like animal with bear-like qualities.

Horse-Cats: Probably a horse/cat hybrid-like species.

Sagittary: Horse-like creatures.

Elephants

Pig-Bears: Can be trained as pets.

Wolf-like Creatures: With long snouts and black-and-white striped fur, almost as big as adult humanoids.

Broakir: Live in foothills, often hunted for food.

Baanjxx: Arboreal browsers that like to eat hallucinogenic cerub nuts. As a child, the Doctor was kicked by one in the head, apparently.

Cows

Walrus

Gallifreyan Marlot: Purple and unique in all of time and space. Probably a bit cat-like.

House Cats: Revered as symbols of intelligence. Traditionally, Presidents kept them as pets.

🐱 Killer Cats (C.A.T.S)

Killer C.A.T.S: These sapient creatures possess instinctive precognitive powers and cat-like physiology. Known for their lethal gladiatorial contests, they despise Time Lord traditions and live in the Gin-Seng Sector of Southern Gallifrey. Their culture includes mercenaries and oracles; they are telepathic.

🏞️ Ecosystem Preservation

Though Gallifrey's outer ecology has suffered, the Time Lords have used technology to preserve many species. Extinct species have been collected, ensuring none become completely extinct. The more fearsome creatures are contained in the Death Zone, while xeno-zoos hold alien species from other worlds.

🏫 So ...

So there's your whistlestop tour of the species on Gallifrey. One day, I'll try to put these onto a species distribution map. Oh, by Rassilon's Beard, I just gave myself more work.

Related:

How is Gallifreyan geography different to Earth?: The landscape of Gallifrey.

Factoid: The Fruits of Gallifrey

What could be some biological traits of Gin-Seng cats?: Looking at who the Gin-Seng cats are, their biology, and their place on Gallifrey and in society.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired😴

[coopigeoncoo]

The Space Between Stars

Pairing: Bubaigawara Jin x Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Tags: Smoking, Burglary, Home Invasion, First Meetings, Meet Ugly, Domestic Fluff

Written as part of @shibaraki's KOMOREBI Milestone Collab!

---

You thought your terrible day couldn't get any worse, but then you come home and accidentally interrupt a burglary in progress.

What follows is a series of questionable decisions you probably should have thought Twice about.

---

"Uh- hello!" The man greeted with a nervous laugh, tugging the mask that was scrunched up on the top half of his face a little further down his nose, fumbling the corner of the TV slightly as he did so. "Don't freak out.  I can explain."

"Yeah?" You murmured distantly, thoughts frantically racing as you tried to process the entire scene playing out before you. 

Something in the man seemed to suddenly shift; his jaw clenching tightly and his shoulders pulling taut in a way that made your focus instantly sharpen- the same way all the animals in nature documentaries did when they finally realized a predator was in their midst.

"I'm stealing your TV."

---

Continue reading below or follow the link to Ao3!

Today has been an awful day.

Not because any single, overwhelmingly bad thing had happened; you had just been worn down by a never ending gauntlet of unfortunate events.

Sometime during the night your phone cord had come unplugged and fully drained your phone battery, which meant that you woke up long after you had set your original and backup alarms to sound.  As a result, you didn't have time for breakfast and ended up just using mouthwash instead of stopping to fully brush your teeth, but even that time save wasn't enough to keep you from missing your usual train.  

You'd tripped on an uneven patch of sidewalk heading out to lunch and irreparably scuffed up the toes of your favorite dress shoes, and the presentation you had been working for the past two weeks to put together was somehow missing the last; and most integral, set of slides.  

The subsequent verbal lashing that your boss and, more embarrassingly, your boss's boss, had given you lasted so long you'd ended up missing the train.

Again.

And as you sought to pass the time waiting for the next train to arrive by messing around on your phone, you discovered that the person you'd been seriously flirting with on the online dating site had suddenly blocked you without notice.  

So when the skies opened up on your walk home, pouring down buckets of rain with such force that your skin stung from the impact, you comforted yourself with the knowledge that you could spend the rest of the day holed up in your apartment.  You'd slip into some pajamas, snuggle up on the couch with your favorite blanket, and veg out in front of the TV you had scrimped and saved to buy; doing your best to forget that today even happened while you yelled at quiz show contestants for chiming in with incorrect answers.  Perhaps you'd even go a step further and spend the commercial breaks on your phone, making wish lists full of products you'd never actually buy- letting yourself indulge in the fantasy of filling your overpriced and miniscule apartment with whatever gadgets and bits of decor that caught your interest.  

It wouldn't completely erase your misery, but it was the best you could do on a limited budget and exactly enough energy to shuffle from your bedroom to the living room after you peeled off your drenched work clothes.  

But your plans of relaxation were immediately foiled when you opened the door of your first floor apartment and were greeted by the sight of a man in a skintight black and white body suit trying to shove your brand new TV through your living room window; the bottom pane filled with with a spider web of cracks that spread even further with every heaving attempt to shove the flat-screen through the too small opening.  He froze when he noticed you, a cigarette dangling from his bottom lip as his scruffy jaw dropped open in surprise from your sudden appearance.  

"Uh- hello!" The man greeted with a nervous laugh, tugging the mask that was scrunched up on the top half of his face a little further down his nose, fumbling the corner of the TV slightly as he did so. "Don't freak out.  I can explain."

"Yeah?" You murmured distantly, thoughts frantically racing as you tried to process the entire scene playing out before you. 

Something in the man seemed to suddenly shift; his jaw clenching tightly and his shoulders pulling taut in a way that made your focus instantly sharpen- the same way all the animals in nature documentaries did when they finally realized a predator was in their midst.

"I'm stealing your TV."

And with that proclamation, your last frayed thread of patience snapped.

"Of course you are!" You laugh, frustrated tears welling up quickly and blurring your vision. "Why wouldn't you be?  It's not like my day could get any worse !"

"Hey, now- don't cry!" The man pleaded, thoughtlessly reaching out towards you with shaking hands, the TV nearly crashing to the floor as he released his hold on it; barely managing to catch the corner with a sharp curse and lower it gently to the floor.  "I'm not gonna hurt you or nothing- I'm just going to rob you a little !"

"A little? A little?" You shriek, wiping at your wet cheeks in frustration. "You're taking the most expensive thing I own!  That feels like an awful lot of robbing to me!"

"That's- that's a fair point," the man conceded, scratching at his exposed chin nervously as he looked around your bare bones apartment with a critical eye; taking note of your collection of second hand furniture and threadbare curtains your old roommate's cat had delighted in shredding.  

"I'm too tired to deal with this right now," you whimper as you take a step backwards into the breezeway, exhaustion winning out over more situationally appropriate emotions like absolute panic.  "Take whatever you want, but I would really appreciate it if you could leave the urn on the bookcase alone.  My Grandma is in there."

"I'd never-!" The man gasped, affronted by the implication he'd be despicable enough to make off with a jar full of Grandma dust.

"You're literally in the process of robbing me!" You laugh wetly, wiping your running nose onto your soaking wet sleeve.  "I don't think you're allowed to be offended by my assumptions about the quality of your character right now."

"I'm sorry. This isn't- this isn't the kind of person I want to be," the man whispered, his nervously wringing hands tightening into shaking fists. "This is who I have to be."

"Whatever," you huff dismissively.  "It doesn't really matter.  Close the window on your way out so the rain doesn't soak down to the floorboards."

"You gonna call the cops on me?" The man asked, nervously puffing on the cigarette in his mouth, the pungent clove smoke pulled towards you by the cross breeze; drifting straight into your face and making you recoil.  

"I don't live on the right side of the city for the police to care about a stolen TV," you inform him, grimacing at the tinkling sound of the buffeting rain upgrading into hailstones.  "I'm just going to duck into a store or something.  I'll be back in like, an hour, so it would be great if you could wrap up taking my stuff and be gone by then.  It's getting late and I still need to cook dinner."

And with those parting words you gently pulled the door closed behind you and, recognizing the futility of locking a door during an active home invasion; stepped back out into the freezing rain without looking back.

The only store on your block that had bothered to stay open in such terrible weather was a tiny holistic store crammed in between a pawn shop and a seafood market.  The shop owner, a serious faced woman with her hair slicked back into a painfully tight looking bun, did her best to cover up the pervasive fish odor that seeped in from the neighboring business by having three oil diffusers running all at once; but the only thing it really accomplished was adding nauseating strong floral notes to the briny air.  

You felt bad lingering in her store for so long without buying anything, so after a drawn out production of pretending to consider buying crystals in a variety of cuts and sizes while internally balking at the price tags, you settled on purchasing a mood ring from one of the clearance displays.  It had a large band size, too large for your fingers for sure, but it was the only thing that you could afford to purchase now that you'd have to start saving for a replacement TV. 

The woman behind the counter was obviously disappointed with your thriftiness, but you pretended to ignore her sourly pursed lips as she thanked you for your business and recommended you return at a later date to have your aura cleansed.

"It's all muddy, you know," she informed you with a disapproving huff, tugging firmly on the stiff collar of her dress shirt to shift it back into place.  "An aura that messy will only invite trouble and stress."

In your experience, trouble and stress never needed an invitation, but instead of voicing your thoughts you held your tongue, jammed the mood ring onto your thumb, and thanked her for the concern; snagging a business card in a show of false interest before bracing yourself for yet another slog through the rain.  

It wasn't coming down quite so hard anymore, but you were already so thoroughly drenched that the waning storm felt like a meaningless show of mercy from the universe at large; a waste of whatever finite karma you'd accrued during your life thus far.  

You'd boldly assumed that coming home to some guy stealing your TV would be the most surprising thing you'd walk in on today, but nothing could match the absolute astonishment you felt when you entered back into your apartment for the second time that evening.   

It had been easy to imagine that your place would be a ransacked disaster at this point, electronics long gone and your personal effects scattered around haphazardly as the intruder fruitlessly searched for valuables.  Instead, everything was in the same, or better, condition than you'd left it in.  

The TV had been returned to its proper place on your third-hand entertainment stand, a large scratch on the side of the frame but seemingly no worse for the wear as the weatherman on screen droned on about the unprecedentedly large storm rolling through the city.  The cracked window had been covered In layers of carefully placed packing tape to keep it from shattering completely; a towel spread out on the carpet beneath it to soak up the rainwater that had collected inside during the thief's botched getaway.

All the shoes in your entryway, the ones you normally kicked off and left where they landed, had been lined up in neat pairs next to the coat closet.  The blanket you'd left crumpled on your lumpy couch after a quick nap yesterday had been neatly draped over the back of the sofa.

And the thief, who you thought would be long gone by now, had made himself at home in your kitchenette.  With a set of mismatched hot pads on his hands he pulled a half sheet pan out of the countertop oven, the telltale aroma of baking bread filling every corner of your small apartment and driving out the lingering stench of cigarette smoke.  Desperately, you wondered if he'd noticed your arrival; cautiously rocking back onto your rear foot in preparation for making a quick escape when he called out to you from across the apartment.  

"Don't just stand in the doorway," the man chastised as he slid the hot tray down onto the stovetop, a small saucepan set to simmer on the next burner over.  "You'll let all the warm air out."

"Uh- yeah.  Of course.  Sorry," you apologized reflexively, wildly unsure about what to do but deciding that the best course of action is to likely play along and keep the burglar-turned-baker calm.  Pushing the door closed with a shaking hand, you did your best to keep your breathing calm and level despite the dread violently roiling in your belly; your sense of self preservation blaring in the back of your mind like a siren.  

"Welcome home.  Again," the thief greeted pleasantly, the toothpick in his mouth straining under the force of his clenched teeth. "You said you'd be gone for an hour."

"I- I ran out of stuff to do and figured you'd be gone by now.  And not, you know- staying to clean up my apartment."

"Yeah," the man laughed, rubbing at the back of his half-masked head nervously; hand still shoved into one of your plaid oven mitts.  "This isn't how these sorts of things usually go down."

"Then why did you do it?" You ask with a nervous swallow, the domestic setting making you bolder than the situation would typically dictate. "Stay, I mean?"

"It just- it seemed like you were having a really bad day," the man murmured sheepishly, pulling off the oven mitts one at a time and tossing them down onto a clear swath of counter next to the stove. "And I didn't want to make it any worse."

"Oh."

"This is- so awkward.  I'm sorry," he muttered, scrubbing a hand across the stubble on his chin in frustration.  "I wanted to be gone by the time you got back to avoid all of this."

"It's okay," you say, unsure as to how sincere you actually were.

"It's not okay," the man laughed dryly.  "I was going to rob you- picking up your living room doesn't make it okay!  It doesn't make me okay!"

"You could have done worse."

"I could have," the man nodded solemnly, the action switching to a frantic shaking a moment later. "I wouldn't have."

A realization struck you abruptly.  "Tell me a lie," you demanded.

"What?"

You wrench open the coat closet door and reach inside, pulling out a chunky blue scarf; a gift from a close friend during their brief but prolific crocheting phase. 

"Say this is red," you said, holding the scarf aloft for him to see.  He froze, every one of his muscles set on edge as he stared at the length of knotted yarn in your grasp. 

"I don't know what you're trying to prove here.  You already know that I can't."

"I just- I want to make sure," you insisted, holding the scarf up a fraction higher. "Please."

"Okay," the man said, deflating as he exhaled in defeat.  "The scarf is red.  It's obviously blue."

Emboldened by the first successful test of your hypothesis, you stepped further into the apartment, snagging a purple tissue box off of the coffee table with your free hand and holding it up for the man to see.

"And this?"

"Green.  It's purple."

Gliding further into your apartment, you deposited the scarf and the tissue box onto the card table you ate your meals at, and grabbed an overripe banana from the bowl of half-rotten fruit you kept replenishing each week; ever hopeful that you'd wake up one day with the self restraint necessary to reach for an apple instead of a bag of chips when you felt snacky. 

"This banana?"

"Teal.  Black- that's one nasty looking banana!"

"It is, isn't it?  I should probably just throw it out," you say with a grimace as your finger hits a soft spot on the peel and sinks down into the goey inner banana flesh. 

"Here, catch!" the man called out, tossing a slightly damp dish rag towards you, which you miraculously managed to snatch out of the air.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

It was quiet for a moment while you wiped the mealy banana goo from your finger, digging under your nail with the stiff corner of the towel.  "So you can't lie," you mused. "Is that a Quirk thing?"

"May as well be, I guess," the man sighed, turning to examine the squat loaf of bread cooling on your stove top.  "I want to go ahead and slice this.  You won't freak out if I grab a knife, will you?"

"Depends," you reply evasively with narrowed eyes as he pulled a knife half way out of the knife block, examining the edge with a frown before sliding it back into place.  "Do you plan on slicing me up, too?"

"These knives are so dull I don't think I could even if I wanted to," he groused, pulling another knife out for inspection with a dissatisfied frown. "And I don't want to."

Eyes locked on the intruder's back; you lowered yourself down carefully into the closest dining chair; knees weak and mind reeling from the surreal turn your evening had taken.  "So you don't want my stuff, and you don't want to hurt me- what exactly do you want?"

"What I want-," the man paused, a triumphant fist pump accompanying his discovery of a serrated blade.  "Is for you to try this bread that I made."

"And then you'll leave?"

"I'll leave right now if that's what you want," the man offered, running the scalloped edge across the craggy top crust of the bread and laughing delightedly at the scraping sound it made.  "Do you hear that?  That's one crispy crust!  This loaf is gonna be goooood."

"How did you even make bread, anyway?  I know for a fact that I don't have any yeast."

"You don't really have much of anything.  Believe me, I checked," the man grinned cheekily over his shoulder at you, as though he thought his confession about rifling through your apartment was  charming and not a blatant invasion of privacy.  "But lucky for you, I'm well versed in poverty meals.  Mix up a basic bread dough, add in a beer where the yeast should be, shove that baby into the oven and you're ready to go!  There's a bit more to it than that."

"Well, it smells wonderful.  This is probably the best this apartment has ever smelled."

"No kidding!  You get a discount for having the unit right above the dumpster?"

"I wish," You sighed forlornly, taking a moment to imagine how much easier your life would be with even a slightly lower cost of living.  "But taking out the trash is pretty convenient, I can just drop it in from the fire escape."

"Bowls?" He inquired as he shut the heat off under the saucepan, giving it one final stir.  

"Oh- I only have a couple.  They're probably on the drying rack."

He salutes you sharply before shuffling off to follow your instructions, carefully selecting and stacking the dishes into his arms like they were valuable pieces of china and not the very worst a home store clearance rack had to offer.  You twisted your too-big mood ring anxiously around your thumb, reminding yourself with every turn that the man in front of you, despite his seemingly affable nature, wasn't a guest.  He was an intruder in your home, no better than the mice that darted behind your fridge when you turned the kitchen light on in the middle of the night.

Although the mice had never cooked you dinner before, so you suppose that was a point in his favor.  

"Careful- careful," the man whispered quietly to himself, inching across the floor towards you with two bowls of soup balanced on his forearm; bracing the overhanging rims with a plate stacked lopsidedly with still steaming bread slices.  He gingerly deposited the bowls onto the table, sliding yours to a stop directly in front of you without any of the broth sloshing over the edge; an impressive feat considering that he'd filled it up to the brim. 

"Nailed it!" He crowed in pride, tossing the plate full of bread down onto the table unceremoniously, the thick slices nearly bouncing off the plate from his rough handling.  Collapsing into the folding chair opposite if you in what could only be described as a sprawl, you watch with thinly veiled interest as he pushes his mask up over the bridge of his nose.  Nostrils fully uncovered, he hunches over the bowl of soup and inhales deeply, flapping his hands to fan the aromatic vapors directly towards his face.

"Not too shabby for a can of soup and leftover veggies!"

"Is that what this is?" You ask curiously, giving the soup a small stir, trudging up a floret of seared broccoli that definitely came from takeout earlier in the week.  

"Don't be shy now.  Dig in!" The man encouraged, placing a large chunk of soup-drenched bread into his mouth with a happy sigh.  The soup was perfectly edible, nothing to write home about but still a notable effort considering the meager ingredients your kitchen had to offer.  But the bread was a different story entirely.

"This crust is incredible!" You gasp, the dry crumbs sticking to your lips.  

"A good dinner for a rainy night," the man stated, holding his half devoted bread slice out towards yours.  "Cheers?"

"Cheers!" You laugh, pushing your slice of bread against his; the crusts impacting and sending a dusting of flaky bread crumbs tumbling onto the surface of the table.

"Whoopsy-daisy!  I'll get that, don't worry," the man reassured you, licking his finger and tapping it across the table, picking up crumbs as he went.  

"'Whoopsy-daisy', huh?" You muse, sipping at a spoonful of soup thoughtfully. "How many kids do you have?"

"Kids? Oh, no- I don't- I don't have any of those," he stammered, shoving his crumb covered finger into his mouth and removing it with a comical pop.  "Her name's Himiko."

"That's…quite the discrepancy between those two answers."

"Himiko isn't- she's not mine, mine.   But she's mine, you know?  In all the ways that should matter."

"So you love her then?"

"Of course I do.  She's a great kid."

"That's all that matters then, isn't it?" You smiled sincerely, the first grin of the evening not strained through a filter of worry.  The man seemed to notice the subtle shift in your demeanor, the tension in his posture softening ever so slightly as he somehow managed to slouch even farther down in his seat.

It had been a long time since you'd eaten alone with someone.  You went out after work with colleagues sometimes, but the places that you always ended up were crowded and noisy; tables and booths crammed to near bursting to accommodate the ravenous waves of dinner rush patrons.  The last meal you'd eaten at home with someone was likely before you moved into this apartment, when you still lived off-campus with a couple of roommates you liked progressively less with each passing week.  

You'd been beyond thrilled to land a job that paid enough to allow you to live alone, even though affording to do so meant relocating across town to a less desirable zip code.  But a slight downgrade in living conditions was well worth the benefit of knowing you'd never again have to live through the experience of walking in on your roommate and their booty call having sex on your bed because it was 'more comfortable' than theirs. 

While you would never miss the stacks of unwashed dishes left to putrefy in the sink or having to wipe urine splatters off of the toilet seat before you could relieve yourself, it was hard to deal with the constant quiet sometimes.  The drone of the TV couldn't replace someone asking about your day or replicate the joy of shared laughter.  

And you couldn't help but wonder if it was a similar situation for the man across from you.  

"Is it okay for me to ask your name?" You murmur quietly, eyes locked on your own hands as you push a tomato chunk around your bowl with the back of your spoon.  "I understand if you don't want me to know.  The less I probably know about you the better, huh?  I'm sorry, that was stupid of me.  Forget I said anything-"

"Twice.  You should call me Twice," the man interrupted; letting out an irritated grunt before opening his mouth once more.  "I want you to call me Jin."

Thrown off balance once again by his contradictory requests, your brain races frantically to find some sort of middle ground between the two.

"Do you want me to call you Jin…twice?  Like, JinJin?"

"That's a little ah- intimate , dontcha' think?" Jin said, a nervous cough punctuating his sentence sharply.  He pulled the bottom edge of his mask down further, trying to cover up the tell-tale embarrassed burn of his cheeks without compromising his ability to eat.  "Just Jin is fine."

"Alright.  Thank you for the meal, Jin.  This is a much nicer dinner than I would have put together for myself, even if I hadn't been delayed by some guy breaking into my apartment," you joked, sending a pointed look Jin's way; politely averting your eyes and pretending not to notice his splotchy blush creeping even further down his cheeks.

"A burglar, huh?  Sounds like a real heel."

"Maybe," you murmured thoughtfully as you watched Jin try and cram an entire slice of bread into his mouth at once.  "But I don't think he's all that bad."

Jin, having gone back for a second serving of soup, was the last to finish eating.  You swooped in and grabbed his bowl before he could object, placing it on the counter as you waited for the sink to finish filling so you could begin washing the dishes. 

"You don't have to do that," Jin grumbled from his position behind you, standing close enough for you to feel him nervously shuffling from foot to foot.  "I can clean up after myself. "

"Nope, sorry.  It's the house rules," you sighed forlornly, acting as though you weren't the sole person responsible for making those rules.  "If you cook, you don't clean up."

"Is there anything else I could do?  Help you out a little more?"

"I guess you could help me dry?" You offer, scooting over slightly to make room for him in your tiny kitchen area. 

"Aye-aye, Captain!" Jin saluted as he slotted into place next to you, grabbing the dripping wet cup you offered out to him with one hand and picking up a dry dishrag with the other.  

The sounds of clinking cutlery and the slow but steady dripping of your faucet worked together with the rumbling storm outside to craft a peaceful atmosphere; one that helped soften the sharp edges of reality and allowed you to gloss over the fact that you were having a very pleasant time with the man who had started out the evening with the intention of robbing you blind.  

It was reckless and stupid, but you couldn't help but worry a little about what would happen to Jin once he left your apartment.  If he was desperate enough to resort to theft for some quick cash, you couldn't help but wonder and worry about what sort of life awaited him outside of the cramped comfort of your home.  

"Are you going to be okay?  Once you leave?" You ask, prying up a stubborn piece of dried food from the tines of a fork with your fingernail.  

"That's one heck of a loaded question!" Jin laughed sharply.  "The world is an absolute mess right now, society is on the brink of collapsing in on itself- I don't think anyone is going to be okay for a long, long time."

"Yeah, but- there's nothing I can do about any of that stuff," you sigh quietly, watching the small bubbles on the surface of the water swirl around your wrists.  "But I can help you, if you need it.  I probably have enough money to put you up at a hotel for the night.  Keep you out of the storm."

"You're too kind," Jin murmured quietly, his voice heavy with appreciation.  "But I don't want you to worry about me, okay?  Things are…difficult right now.  But it won't last forever."

"I wish I had your optimism."

"It's not optimism," Jin said, placing the last plate into the drying rack next to the sink and passing you the dish towel to wipe your hands on. 

"What is it then?" You asked, unable to fully dry your hands on the wet cloth, so you settled for simply wiping off the lingering film of bubbles from the back of your hands.  

"Experience,” he said, scratching thoughtlessly at the scruff growing unevenly across his exposed jaw.  “My life has always been- well, bad.  Mostly.  I used to really hate that.  Thought it wasn't fair.  But now I don't mind so much."

"Why not?"

"Well, eventually I realized that the bad times I went through made all the good things in my life seem even better," he said, turning his head to gaze out of your taped up window, as though he would be able to see the sky and not the moldering plaster exterior of the apartment complex next to yours. "Stars wouldn't be anything special if it wasn't for all that dark space between em', you know?"

You thought back on your day, on the series of disastrous events that had weighed you down soured your disposition, and how now; with the passage of time and the balm of Jin's companionship, the day didn't feel quite so dreadful in retrospect.

"I hope you saved room for dessert," you smiled, turning to riffle through a cabinet for the small package of cookies you kept tucked away for emergencies.

"Thanks, but I'm still full from dinner.  There's always room for a treat or two!"

The bag of cookies, already half empty from propping you up emotionally during the dramatic season finale of the show you'd binged last weekend, didn't last long.  But you and Jin did your best to stretch out the warm comfort of the evening as long as you could; chatting over the commercials as the emergency weather broadcast came to a conclusion.  

"Welcome back, viewers!" A man with slicked back hair and an unfortunate mustard colored blazer greeted as the title card for the incoming show disappeared from the screen.  "You're tuned in to 'Top 10 at 10', the show where we look back at the week's top moments from the Top Ranked Heroes!  Next up is the Winged Hero: Hawks, swooping in for a rescue-!"

"Ugh," you groan, patting the couch cushions around you in search of the remote.  "Is the controller over by you?  I want to change the channel."

"Nope, no controller," Jin said, his focus solely on the TV as the Number Two Hero crashed through a window on the top most floor of a burning apartment building. "So, you're not a Hawks fan I take it?"

"Hawks gives me weird vibes," you admit, lifting up a throw pillow to peer down into the space next to the arm of the sofa as Hawks waved casually on the screen, a shaking Pomeranian tucked securely under his arm as he floated to the ground.  "I don't trust people who always smile.  It feels like they're trying to hide something."

"You're a good judge of character, aren't you?" Had you been less focused on your frantic search for the remote you would have noticed Jin's uncomfortable fidgeting and repeatedly clenching fists, but you'd missed those telltale signs that preceded a shift in his personality.  So the sudden appearance of that voice, the brash one you'd grown accustomed to hear chiding and correcting Jin's half-truths, was unnerving.  You wondered how loud his unspoken thoughts must be for that second voice to feel the need to comment on Jin's internal dialogue.  

"I used to think so," you laugh dryly, the hand you'd been using to fish around in the couch coming up with a fistful of crumbs and an old tin of forgotten breath mints.  "But recent events definitely have me reevaluating that assumption about myself."

"You shouldn't-," Jin swallowed thickly, carefully considering his words; weighting them for sincerity lest he stray too far off the line of authenticity and unwittingly reveal too much.  "Don't make me be the reason you doubt yourself.  I'll take the blame for all sorts of stuff, but I don't want that to be on me, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, once again fumbling to regain your emotional footing.  Talking with Jin was like walking across a messy room with your eyes closed, constantly tripping up and unsure of what caused you to even stumble in the first place. 

"I mean, if you can't trust yourself, then who can you trust?" Jin asked, his voice only just beneath a bellow and pulled thin at the edges; a manic sort of cry that poorly covered his underlying distress.  "I can't trust myself anymore!"

"You can’t?"

"No.  I- I broke that trust.  I broke myself."

Carefully, you lower yourself down on the cushion next to him; a vulnerable place for an unguarded moment.  "I know that it probably doesn't mean much of anything coming from me- we're pretty much strangers," you admit with a helpless sort of shrug, extending a hand out towards him like you would a cowering animal; slowly, carefully, like you half expected to be bitten for your trouble.  "But I trust you."

"You don't know me.  I don't even know if I'm me," he admits with a watery sniff, accepting your outstretched hand with his shaking fingers.

"This Jin, this you- ," you emphasize with a tight squeeze of your hand. "-is the only one I know.  And I happen to think he's pretty alright."

"Even for a bad guy?"

"You're the best bad guy I know," you assure him readily, the words somehow playful despite their sincerity.  But it seems like Jin was looking for a way out of the mire of introspection he'd waded into and quickly took the metaphorical hand you'd extended; lifting himself out of his head with a breathy chuckle.  

"I am pretty great, aren't I?"

"A terrible thief, but an excellent chef."

"Guess I missed my calling in life!" He grinned brightly, sucking up the bead of snot dripping from his nose.  

"It's never too late to change."

"It is for me."

You waited anxiously, almost desperately for that second voice to cry out in objection, but the room remained silent except for the canned laughter piping in through the TV speakers.  Whatever path Jin was on offered him no alternative, no deviation from the bumpy road beneath his feet.  

"Earlier, you told me that this isn't who you want to be.  That this is who you have to be."

"Who I need to be.  Who they need me to be."

"Will you do something for me?" You asked, easily sliding the mood ring off of your thumb and spinning it between the fingers of your free hand.  "One last favor and we'll call it even?"

"Of course," Jin nodded solemnly as his chest puffed up; proud to be entrusted with carrying out a task for you.

"When you have the chance, I want you to make the choice you want.  Be the Jin you want to be," you pleaded, sliding the mood ring easily onto his much larger pointer finger.  

"This like a promise ring or something?"

"I suppose," you hum thoughtfully. "But only if you promise."

He held the ring up in front of his face, watching the colors swirl and shift rapidly across the gleaming black stone; far more active than it had been on your own hand.  Jin clenched his fist, locking the ring onto his finger like he was scared it might tumble from his grasp and disappear into the unknown abyss alongside your remote, never to be seen again.  You couldn't see his eyes, only the expressive patterning on his mask that managed to contort with his fluctuating disposition, but there was a sudden weight upon your shoulders that let you know that you were the sole object of his intense focus.  

Jin lifted his ringed hand into the air between you, splaying his fingers wide in front of your face.  The dark, swirling gem of his ring glimmering merrily from the vicinity of your forehead, a third eye for Jin to take with him; an eye that would see him in the way he craved- as the Jin that existed solely in your gaze.  

"I promise."

The night, as all things, could not last forever.  But you were unprepared for the abrupt way that Jin threw himself up from the couch when the late night News broadcast cut to live coverage of a crime in progress; a patch-skinned man cackling in delight as he threw bright blue flames from the back of a speeding van at pursuing police vehicles.  

"That idiot, " he hissed, patting his sides and butt like he was checking for keys or a phone that were very obviously not tucked into his spandex suit.  "I have to go."

"Oh ,"  you manage to say through the clenching knot of dismay that had tied itself up in your chest.  “Will you come back?"

"I- I shouldn't," he whispered, regret palpable in every syllable.  "I want to."

Hastily, you stumbled to your feet and strode across the living room, grabbing the ceramic urn you had on prominent display before circling back and stopping directly in front of Jin. 

"Here,” you said, pushing the vase firmly into Jin's arms.  “Take this.”  

"For the last time, I'm not going to take your Grandma!" Jin cried in exasperation, pushing the floral patterned urn back into your arms. 

"Please," you snorted, lifting off the lid and pulling out a small plastic bag of gray ashes, shaking it back and forth in the air. "This isn't actual people powder.  It's a bunch of charcoal ash I grabbed from my neighbor's grill."

"Then why do you-?"

"I'm not totally naive," you said, hooking your hand on the rim of the urn and gently jostling it, the tell tale clinking of coins echoing from inside.  "Every burglar grabs a piggy bank, but very few think to check a jar of apparent human remains."

"I can't take your savings," Jin protested weakly, staring down longingly at the handfuls of bills scattered amongst the change.  "I'm not gonna steal from you."

"Of course you're not.  First of all, this is a gift ," you emphasize, pushing the urn more firmly against his chest.  "And second, this isn't for you."

"It's not?" Jin asked bewilderedly, twisting his head around to check if a second criminal had snuck into the apartment while he was distracted.

"Nope.  This is for Himiko," you explained, letting go of the vase and stepping back so Jin had no choice but to tighten his grip on the money jar or let it crash to the ground.  "Buy her something nice, okay?  And treat yourself while you’re at it."

"I- I will," he promised, unable to refuse your gesture if it meant securing some measure of comfort for Himiko.  Tucking the urn safely into the crook of his arm, Jin tugged his mask down; obscuring his face fully for the first time.  It was impressive how much that narrow swath of exposed skin had been carved into your memory in such a short span of time.  Even now, through the cover of a mask, you could still make out the small hints of Jin that lay beneath; the jut of his chin, the set of his jaw, the jittery way he clicked his teeth together.  

With a grace you wouldn't expect of a man his size, he slipped towards the patched up window, prying up the frame and squeezing an entire leg out onto your fire escape before he noticed your bewildered expression.

"What is it?  What's wrong?"

"You- you don't have to sneak out the window," you explained, pivoting your body to point towards the entryway.  "You can just use the door."

"Right!  The door!  Of course!" Jin laughed, smacking himself in the forehead as he pulled his leg back into your apartment, hopping clumsily on one foot until his appendage was fully free.  "Forgot that you had one of those."

"Well, I hope you don't forget again," you chastise playfully, guiding him out of your front door and into your apartment breezeway.  "Because I sure would appreciate it if you'd knock next time."

"Next time?" Jin asked, voice hitching hopefully at the invitation.

"Bye, Jin," you smiled, giving him a small wave as you slowly closed the door.  "See you later!"

"Right," he murmured, staring down at his fluctuating mood ring, a smile creeping along his face as white specks scattered across the dark blue stone; like stars glimmering brilliantly in the dark night sky. "Later."