#saturday has become the highlight of my week

[cimeret]

I'm super late for this buuut I'm going to continue writing down some thoughts about Stampede. Haven't watched ep 9 yet, this will only be about 4 - 8.

So, I'm 8 episodes into Trigun Stampede, and my initial opinion of the series hasn't changed much. I'm still very much in love with the gorgeous visuals—there's more than one moment in every episode where I have to pick my jaw up off the floor! It's not just the action scenes with their creative camera movements, but also the pretty landscapes in the few quieter moments, or the way the series manages to portray horror and gore in a way that makes me physically cringe without going overboard. On the other hand, both pacing and characterization, while improving with each episode, are still a bit of a weak point for me in the new series.

The most beautiful thing about Stampede, though, is all the genuine enthusiasm and love I've seen for this series and the characters. I just love how positive the fanbase is. Reading the reactions or seeing people get creative after each new episode is almost the best part of watching! My dash is overflowing with love for these characters and their stories and I'm totally here for it! So I'm going to go along with that and will mostly just gush without restraint about all the things I love so far.

Obvious spoilers for Trigun Stampede (up to ep 8) under the cut (and also for the older series and the manga)

Is it just me or do the visuals get better every week? This series makes me want to run all the beautiful gifs and videos on an endless loop so I can just stare at them forever. I mean ... just look!

I go weak at all these long, long takes with their beautiful camera movements and Trigun Stampede definitely spoils me in that regard. And yet when the show's visuals most surprised me, it was in a totally different way. I wasn't prepared for the calm, contemplative scenes in the flashback with Livio and Wolfwood. Not only is their story itself heartbreaking and tragic—the soft 2D animation style, the silent film vibes, and music give these flashbacks a bittersweet yet eerie feel. They stand out from the rest of the series as if their story is part of a different, older universe. And how well that fits thematically with Wolfwood and Livio, whose entire lives have been revamped by the Eye of Michael. They have literally been forced into a new, more cruel story. Setting the flashbacks to the soft, lonely tones of a flute is ingenious; for me, this music captures the spirit and feel of the old series so well and triggers feelings of wistfulness and nostalgia, which made the flashback that much more emotionally effective. The soundtrack of the old series is iconic and I've tried not to make comparisons so far, because I feel like it sets up an impossible standard for any new adaptation. But again, this is where I'm starting to grow more and more fond of Stampede. I never skip the opening and I'm totally obsessed with the music video by Kvi Baba, which just bombards your brain with effects and colors and quick cuts until you become addicted. Studio Orange knows how to hook you with the visuals and they have proven that they can do not only loud and flashy scenes, but also quiet and soulful ones.

And I still wish we could have more of the latter. In my last review I said that I wanted this series to turn me into an emotional mess, and damn if Stampede didn't manage that more than once. It's the contrast between the quiet, sad and somber moments and the colorful, fast-paced, often gruesome action that draws me in the most. When Stampede finds that balance, the series is brilliant. And I could wax poetic again about Vash and how I think he's really the heart of this series because he embodies that contrast perfectly. I still miss his crazy antics from the old series and his funny and goofy personality, but I think there's also something to be said for this more repressed, softer Vash, for a much more open and direct portrayal of his issues like his depression, his eating disorder, his guilt and suicidal thoughts. Those things existed in the older series as well, but they were much more hidden under Vash's mask, often so well that they could even fool the viewer. And I don't mean to say that one approach is better than the other. Both have a lot to offer, and the more I think about it, the more I like that we now have two Vashs with similar problems and backgrounds, but with different personalities and ways of dealing with their struggles. I love haunted characters who are tortured by the narrative in increasingly cruel ways, beyond what any human should ever have to endure, and I love watching them getting back up and doing their best and smiling and fighting on and refusing to break down despite everything. Heroes are empowering. But there have to be moments when the mask comes off. There have to be moments when they're vulnerable and doubtful, moments when they lose their bravery and hope and either have to accept outside help or slowly pull themselves back together, because that's what ultimately makes them seem real and relatable and inspiring. I think this was done particularly well with ep 8. This is the lowest we've seen of Vash so far, and I hope that the flashback at this point wasn't just inserted to give viewers background on Vash and Knives and clear up some of the mysteries that have been building up over previous episodes. I hope that the issues raised by the flashback are also carried into the present timeline of the story, and that we get some strong character moments where Vash, for example, has to confront his past. A lot of things have been building up—Wolfwood and Livio and all the people trailing Vash, we have the tension between Wolfwood and Vash and their brief talks about ethics and morality, Meryl has the photo and so many questions, hints to Vash's identity as a plant have been revealed, Legato is hot on Vash's heels—at best, all of this should not merely serve as a setup for more brilliant action, but make for tense conversations between characters, drama and difficult decisions. I am more than curious where Stampede will take us! (And I really can't imagine how all this is going to be resolved in four episodes, so let's hope the rumors are true and we do indeed get more than 12 episodes.)

I could say so much more —about how the plants are portrayed in this series, about the atmosphere on the sand steamer, the awesome animation of the heavy machinery, the brief appearance of the Bad Lads Gang, about Brad and Luida.... But I want to talk very quickly about Meryl. I still think Stampede should take more time to develop her personality and her relationship with Roberto. By now I understand a little better the direction the show wants to go with the juxtaposition of the two: Roberto, the jaded superior who is trying to maintain a professional approach and would understandably rather stay out of trouble, and newbie Meryl, who is suddenly developing a personal interest in Vash and the events, and is tired of being a helpless and clueless bystander. So yes, I understand why they put her with Roberto instead of Milly. Roberto also gets a few moments where his character is more than a mere archetype or tool for exposition. And I hope they continue in that direction, because I think these two have a lot of potential.

The scene where Meryl stays in the control room of the sand steamer to trigger the cannon, and her speech to Roberto (and yay for the callback to Jeneora Rock and Tonis' injury!)—that scene had me crying and cheering for her. It was such an important moment. With all these superhuman men who are constantly getting riddled with bullets and losing so much blood that I feel sorry for their poor overworked kidneys and bone marrow that have to replace that amount ... yeah, it's easy to forget that Meryl is just a small human lady who has probably led a pretty sheltered life. (Not that life on Gunsmoke is easy for anyone, but it's different from the horrors that Vash, Wolfwood, Livio and co. have been through.) She doesn't have the physical strength of the other characters, and that makes her courage all the more remarkable and inspiring. The same goes for Roberto. In a way, these two are the characters that viewers can relate to the most, and I would love if Stampede didn't just use this fact to portray them as more or less passive agents who just uncover information and voice aloud all the questions that viewers are also wondering. Instead, I hope the series continues to show us what it does to ordinary human characters to witness these events, how it changes them psychologically, and how they begin to question themselves, their lives, and their values.

Because for me that's what Trigun is all about: what does it mean to be human, and how can we maintain our humanity despite this seemingly cruel and unjust life we're thrust into?

Anyway, I've been writing on this for so long that ep 9 should have dropped by now. So I'll dive right back in. It's actually quite nice to write these little reviews before watching the new episode, so that all the ideas and speculations are still fresh in the back of my mind. Since I'm expecting the new episode to be quite tense and heavy, with young Vash and Knives finally meeting each other, I'll probably be an emotional wreck for the rest of the day.

What a truly wonderful way to spend your Saturday!

[attapullman]

Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons

A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!

“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”

Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”

“So you admit I’m funny!”

The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.

The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.

“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.

As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.

That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?

As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head. 

Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action. 

Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.

"Is that Bob from Stats?" 

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester. 

“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"

You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?

He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.

“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”

The wink makes your mouth dry.

Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed. 

“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”

With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg. 

You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.

“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse. 

He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”

You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily. 

“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.

Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.

By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.

“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.

Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester. 

She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!” 

As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”

Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.

“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.

Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch. 

“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.

But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.

Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house. 

“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.

At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.

Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare? 

Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.

Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face. 

“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”

Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.

He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”

“And the hobby horse?”

He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”

There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest. 

The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”

In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe. 

His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?” 

It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.

An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.

His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.

Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.

The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.

Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.

The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them. 

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself. 

His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.

You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”

His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.

The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.

Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”

Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.

His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.

“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”

You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”

He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”

Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”

“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher. 

You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.

Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”

Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.

“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”

His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.

You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder. 

Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.” 

The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.

“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you. 

In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.

That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent. 

An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.

Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good. 

Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.

Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”

He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind. 

His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.

“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.

One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right. 

“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands. 

He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses. 

“O-oh!”

It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out. 

The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light. 

Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.

You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.

“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”

The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.

Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.

Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”

From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”

You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.

“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.

You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.

Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”

Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.

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[augustjustice]

Pretty in Pink

AO3 Link

I am still firmly on my Stevie Harrington agenda this week, so please enjoy below Eddie's thirsty-turned-sappy thoughts about his favorite girl, inspired by @getlost0p's absolutely delightful art as well @cherrycolasteve's very cute tags.

Eddie taps the pen against his front teeth absently, eyes flitting uncomprehendingly over the various multiple choice options of his practice test. With his brain already feeling fuzzy and unfocused, it’s easy to let his gaze drift away from the page over to the girl currently sprawled out beside him–Stevie Harrington, curled up reading the X-Men comic Dustin had strong-armed her into picking up. 

And, look–who could really blame him for getting a little distracted? There's a hot girl in his bed which is, admittedly, a rare enough occurrence–until shit went sideways last spring, at least–to still feel a little notable. Even if she is only there for moral support while he studies, his GED test date circling ever closer.

Stevie's wearing a striped white and pink polo with the buttons undone all the way to the bottom of the neckline and tight stonewash jeans. The absolute preppiest of prep attire, completed by the cherry-flavored chapstick shining red on her lips.

Eddie wants to kiss her stupid.

The jeans are high waisted, pulled up snug over the curve of her ass, and with Stevie rolled onto her stomach reading the comic, Eddie's getting quite the view.

Then she shifts, flopping over onto her back beside him, the movement followed by the sound of pages turning. The new position offers a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, a further hint of what her clingy polo is doing such a great job of highlighting. 

Eddie looks. Of course he looks.

Estrogen has taken to Stevie’s figure like a duck to water. In the plush spread of her hips, making her pert ass even rounder, which Eddie would have thought was damn near impossible. And in the plumpness steadily gathering at her chest, her once defined pecs softening, giving way to the gentle swell of her breasts, which grow fuller by the day. 

It’s become something of a problem for him lately–the staring. 

That was true, to some extent, even before she started to transition. Stevie's always been gorgeous, and Eddie's always been aware of that fact, harboring a hopeless, from afar crush on her since they landed in the same impossible English class his first senior year and Eddie had become painfully aware of what all the Hawkins High girls were on about. Not that he would have admitted that, at the time, not even under threat of painful, agonizing death–no, the coming terms with it came later, during his spring break from hell spent realizing that Stevie Harrington was not only surprisingly sweet but a totally badass, bonafide hero.

…The whole ripping that bat apart with her teeth thing certainly didn't hurt, either.

The point is, he's always looked at Stevie, flirted with her. Probably been too obvious about it, too. 

It's just that since she started to transition, it feels like he's gotten so much worse, like any subtlety he was holding on to by his fingernails has been ripped from his hands. Eddie can’t stop staring at her, the heat of embarrassment prickling his face, tongue-tied like a school boy with a crush each and every time he gets caught. 

And that's the worst part of it–he does get caught, far more often than he'd like.

It’d been months, now, since the first time Stevie explicitly called him out for it–a warm Saturday in the summer when they had dragged the kids down to the arcade, trying to beat the heat with the dark, air-conditioned interior of the local nerd haunt. 

Stevie had been watching Erica beat her own high score at Duck Hunt, leaned over the machine in her Daisy Duke cutoff shorts and a cropped pink jersey, ponytail swinging against her back and the scars littering her sides unashamedly on display. That’s something they had both been working themselves up to, together–not hiding their war wounds, fighting off the anxiety that came from people’s stares.

But Eddie had been staring for an entirely different reason when Stevie caught him. 

As Erica ran off to ‘pummel’ Dustin after his latest Dig Dug win, Stevie propped an elbow on the abandoned game, shooting Eddie a knowing look.

“Like what you see, Munson?” she asked coyly.

Eddie’s entire face flamed with heat. 

“I was just–your top!” he blurted. “I was just admiring your top, my lady. It’s…it’s cute. The pink–think that might be your color, Harrington.”

Stevie’s cheeks burned her own pretty pink to match it, then, which Eddie couldn’t help but preen about. 

And if he noticed she started wearing a lot more pink around him after that, well…he tried not to read too much into it.

Just like the pretty pale pink she’s wearing today, attracting his eye and forcing Eddie to hold back a twitterpated sigh as he watches her, wrapped up in the bright primary colored pages of the X-Men

…This bullshit of his is definitely gonna get his ass kicked by Robin or Nancy, one of these days, he’s sure of it. Possibly both of them at once–Buck may just hold him down while Wheeler does what she does best.

But the truth is, it's not just about how Stevie’s figure has steadily filled out. He's not gonna lie, that's definitely part of it–but also…she just has this glow about her, now, like she's settling so happily into herself. It’s like that contentment beams out of her, radiant, in every little gesture, every giddy smile. He's drawn in by it, like Icarus with the sun, like a moth to a flame–too entranced to turn away, even if it might end up burning him in the long run.

The thing is, Stevie's beautiful, and she takes his breath away.

She’s become such an intrinsic part of his life, since everything that happened, he’s not entirely sure what he would do without her. Hell, they still share a bed, some nights–fighting back the nightmares together is always easier. And in the intervening months since that started, she's grown steadily softer beside him, curves pressing against his body where there were once hard planes and sharper angles. Her presence is no less warm and comforting than it had been from the beginning, though, her weight and smell familiar, the steady rhythm of her breathing when it finally evens out the same.

Eddie wonders if they were supposed to have stopped doing that, somewhere along the way–the sleeping together part, even though they're only doing it in the most platonic, just-friends sort of way possible. Then again, he's never put all that much stock in it, what he is and isn't supposed to be doing. Besides, how much difference could stopping really have made? Not a whole hell of a lot, in his opinion, considering they've both been bi as fuck the whole damn time.

Sharing a bed all the time doesn't really help his other problem–the staring, the thinking about Stevie's plush curves and soft skin–but that's his own shit to deal with and work out. Stevie shouldn't have to suffer through the nights alone just because Eddie can't keep his hard on for her in check.

So, yeah. He thinks she’s a knockout–of course he does–but the truth is, that’s all secondary to the way he feels about her. She’s steadily grown into one of his best friends, in the time since he’s finally gotten to actually know her. And if all he ever gets to do is look–and better yet, talk to her, bicker and joke and tease, share popcorn at movie nights crammed too close together on the Harrington’s couch and laugh at all the same stupid inside jokes–well, he considers himself honored for the privilege of it. 

“What, Munson?” Stevie laughs suddenly, drawing him out of his reverie–during which he had, of course, still been staring–by smacking him lightly on the arm with her comic book. 

That had been another secret, shared between them–Stevie liked the X-Men, she’d confessed, even if she couldn’t resist pretending otherwise to Dustin. She said the Mutants made her feel…seen, in a way she really hadn’t ever before. 

"I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart," Eddie had agreed easily when she told him. 

"Kinda figured you might, Eds,” she had shot him a soft smile, which he returned in kind.

That feeling of being seen–understood–stretched out beyond the pages of the comic book to encompass them both, the way they just fundamentally got each other.

"Mystique's got nothing on you, though," he had added with a wink, falling back on his old routine of borderline flirtation just for the pleasure of seeing her blush yet again, ducking her head as she gave his shoulder an exasperated nudge.

He blinks back to reality, finds himself looking into those same mesmerizing eyes now, big and brown and staring back at him expectantly. A smile plays at the corners of Stevie’s mouth as she puts her comic aside. Scooting closer, she reaches to give one of his test booklet pages a quick shake. 

"You're supposed to be studying, you know. Believe me, I get how hard that can be, and I wasn't exactly the best in school…but I'm still like 99% sure you at least have to look at the page before you get it,” she teases. “And I haven’t got the answers to this question secretly penciled somewhere up my sleeve, promise. So, not really sure how staring at me is gonna help you here."

Eddie studies her face–the amused pink curve of her mouth, the cute little moles that dot her cheeks and throat. 

That wistful sigh finally escapes him.

“Shit, sorry,” he apologies on autopilot, and then, the confession rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, “you’re just so…fucking pretty.”

As soon as the words have left his mouth, he cringes, preparing to blurt out yet another apology–and then Stevie’s finger presses against his lips. When he glances at her, he finds that her whole face has lit up. 

Well, fuck. If she’s gonna look at him like that, he can’t even be sorry for his big mouth.

Then, surprise of all surprises–he feels a jolt as she leans in and pecks him once on the cheek, lips smooth from her cherry chapstick. 

“Thanks. You’re sweet, Eddie,” Stevie murmurs, quietly, as she pulls back. Then, her smile turns mischievous, pretty eyes giving one of her patented, exasperated eyerolls. “And good of you to finally say something about it.”

Eddie barks out a disbelieving laugh before he can help it, hiding his face for a moment between his fingers.

“Seriously, Harrington, you know you’re a total babe.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stevie agrees, a glimmer of that overconfidence she’d carried herself with in school shining out. Eddie can’t even lie–he loves it. “But a girl still likes to hear it, now and again.”

“Shit, Stevie.” Head still ducked, Eddie reaches out slowly and takes her hand, twiddling with her fingers as he looks up from beneath the fringe of his bangs. “Now that I know you want me, too–I’ll tell you anytime you want.”

Reaching forward, Stevie tucks a tuft of hair behind Eddie’s ear, not letting him hide behind the curtain of it. Then, she leans in, and this time she presses a soft kiss to his lips. 

Eddie sucks in another sharp, surprised breath, finally tasting that cherry flavor for himself. 

“I’m totally gonna hold you to that one, Eds,” she says, leaving their foreheads pressed gently together even once she pulls back, “so just get ready for it.”  

But, then, a mere moment later, Stevie is bouncing backwards on the bed, giggling when Eddie leans in, trying to chase after her lips again. He groans as she picks up his booklet and presses it against his chest. 

“You can check me out all you want later, stud,” Stevie shoots him a wink, flipping open to the page he had left off on. “But, for now…you’ve gotta get back to work.”

When she settles down beside him this time, though, she stays close, hooking her chin over his shoulder. 

“And, I’ve got an idea. A tried and true method for studying. Works every time.” 

“That right?” Eddie tilts his head to face her, cocking an eyebrow. “Well, lay it on me, then, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

He taps a finger lightly against her temple. The playful twinkle in Stevie’s eyes as she grins at him makes Eddie’s heart skip a bit.

“How about…I give you a kiss for every question you get right?” she murmurs, close enough her warm breath ghosts over his skin. 

Eddie lets his eyes drop down to the red shine of her lips, and feels giddy, for once, knowing he can look his fill. After a long, loaded pause, he gives a sharp nod, clapping his hands together.

“You know what, Stevie? Studying never sounded so good.” Snatching up his pen again, he settles back with the test now spread across both their laps. “I’m in.” 

And, this time, whenever Stevie distracts Eddie from his studies–well. At least he can tell himself it’s all in the name of a good cause.

[accirax]

initial thoughts on DCAS episode 11

oh my god

i had already guessed that Alec was lying (much like Jake did), but this was a really nice explanatory touch! Alec and Riya's friendship is, as usual, one of the season highlights for me.

would've been a lot more interesting if the campers could have chosen their own partners in one way or another, imo, but that would definitely eat up a lot of time in an already packed episode. plus, some pairings (like Connor and Riya) probably couldn't have happened this way, given how Riya wound up reacting to Connor.

"alright Fiore, here's how we prevent you from going home this week," one could say.

i was SO worried that Alec was going to have another confessional at some point being like "lol i was testing my acting skills on Fiore too" but he DIDN'T. which means this is CANON. THE ADOPTION IS BACK ON!!!!!!!!

okay, i actually love the decision to pair Hunter and Grett together here. both of them are the "very flawed but kinda mistreated partner of their appearances-obsessed date," so it makes sense that Hunter could give Grett a good perspective on this. also, is it just me, or did they rework Hunter's personality in this episode to be more like S2? i liked it.

i'm going to put every Fiore and Alec moment in this post and you can't stop me. i am initially thinking about them.

"joke's on you fucker i didn't teach her literally any of this. she's just built different."

as much as i enjoy Alec appreciating his daughter's sass, this does seem like a pretty radical heel turn from "i only voted Connor out of this game because it was what was best for him." i guess maybe spending time with Riya and the other villains has caused Alec to fall further off the deep end/forget about Connor's genuinely nice qualities...? or it's inconsistency between different writers, who knows.

i am 0% a jul(?) shipper, but, damn, the jul shippers were eating well this episode.

Yul is such an interesting little guy.

James flexing his character arc, we love to see it.

WHAT IS IT WITH THE CYAN WOMEN AND SECRETLY BEING JACKED????

society..... it's becoming more utopian........

see, this is why i didn't think Tess would be the one to return to the game.

Aiden is such a hater, i love him. but, overall, i agree with Lake. we're definitely sowing the seeds for a Jake redemption(/winner?) arc and a heroes' reunion.

Riya, finally finishing what she started in S2 of making the gays fall off cliffs.

villains are so fun. i love villains.

THE SOFT DAD SMILE IS BACK :D

ooh, nice callback.

this is an objectively funny screenshot. why does Alec yell like that

what a surprising outcome! (/s /lh)

:,) <3

i wish Aiden and James had more of an opportunity to talk during this episode :/ it's fine, though-- i think that James and Lake's characters were used more effectively this way.

they're getting back together after this trust me guys i'm disventure camp

YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY

they truly are family now. i love it.

"not that bad" is a weird way to describe your would-be crush.

this will be a fun scene! idk which episode "Saturday" will be, though. both because idk how many days will pass in any given episode and also bc i don't recall which day today is in canon.

i do wonder what evil Gabby is doing here. i guess maybe it'll just be the side of Gabby that wants to run with the villains alliance for power vs the side that wants to follow Ellie's advice? that seems kind of weird. maybe it'll be more like the side that wants to go mad with power on the revenge quest vs Gabby's more rational and strategic side? either way, strange cliffhanger.

can't we just have everyone here... always... all the time...? no? okay :( well, it was still really nice to get the whole gang back together for this episode. i'll look forward to seeing them again in the finale.

and, hey, Connor's back in the game now! and he can't be eliminated next episode, at least. are there going to be three players with immunity...? that could get spicy. we'll see how the heroes and villains smack down when the next real elimination rolls around. back up to ten to nine again... see you next time!

[leclerced]

FRAT BOY LANDO x ENGINEERING NERD OSCAR x LITERATURE NERD READER PLEASE OMG (i saw pics of oscar in a tux and lando with the backwards hat)

ummmm this was in drafts and it kinda goes w some other asks i got the other day ab frat boy lando and engineer oscar so im gonna go on ab oscar and reader meeting in the library.

oscar and reader meet in the library when all the other tables are full so he asks to sit with her, but she doesn’t hear him. she’s got like three books open along with her laptop and a ton of pens and highlighters, sticky notes and tabs all over the pages so she can add notes and save pages for later. it looks like a scattered mess to him, but she looks perfectly calm as she scrawls pretty cursive onto a sticky note and then carefully places it underneath a specific line. she looks up and jumps when she sees him waiting there, removes an airpod and apologizes for not noticing him. he would laugh it off and apologizes for standing there, then repeats himself. she agrees and pulls her books closer, reorganizes her pile of writing utensils and note pads so he'll have more room. he takes the invitation to set his stuff down and pulls out the seat across from her.

her airpod goes back in and he's relieved he didn't get stuck with w chatterbox because he really needs to work. the next few days follow that pattern, the library being full and him joining her at her table in the back corner after navigating his way through and not finding his own. after a week, he gets into the habit of going straight to her table and it becomes a kind of ritual. he doesn’t even ask anymore, she somehow sees him coming each time and shuffles her possessions around to make room for him and they study in silence until one of them leaves.

after a few impromptu silent study sessions he’s noticed she always carries snacks with her, and he’s buying himself a snack from the vending machine and sees the last of her favorites and buys it without thinking. when he gets to the table, pulls a candy bar from his backpack and slides it across the table, says it was the last one and he knows it’s her favorite. she’s like, “i’ve never told you that?” and he tells her she has one with her every time and he just saw it and got it for her. she’s trying not to swoon because they’ve hardly talked and he’s paying attention to her? knows what candy bar she eats mid study session?

then, he gets there after a month of perfect silent study sessions and there’s someone sitting next to her, clearly distracting her from her work. he stops in the aisle, a dozen paces from them and watches as he tucks her hair behind her ear and she bites her lip. it irritates him, watching the interaction. this is a library. meant for studying. not flirting. he suddenly steps forward, purposely slapping the sole of his shoe onto the ground so she’ll hear. like a dog hearing a whistle, her head jokes over and she grins, automatically rearranging the table for him. she speaks to him for the first time in weeks, “hey! i hope you don’t mind, we have a project together.”

oscar waits until lando leaves an hour later to ask if she wants to hang out some time, and she’d tease him about being jealous. he insists he was already going to ask her when he arrived but they’d been interrupted. she’d ask what he wants to do and he’d shrug and say, “i dunno, movies, dinner? a picnic? bowling? we can do whatever you want.” the hang out certainly sounds more like a date, so she teases him a little more, “are you asking me out on a date, oscar?” and he rolls his eyes and nudges her foot with his under the table and says, “yeah, yeah. whatever. friday?” and she kinda winces and says, “actually, i’m supposed to go to a party at lan’s on friday- you could come too though!”

oscar huffs out a laugh and says, “you’re inviting me to a party he invited you to? i don’t think he’d want me there. parties aren’t my scene. saturday?” she instantly nods and agrees, and they make plans to go see a movie and get dinner. oscar ends up going to the party even though he hates them, tells his friend logan about his date and logan drags him to the party because he’s convinced lando invited her to fuck and if he leaves her alone with him friday night there’s no way he’s getting his date. logan seems to be right because when he finds reader she’s with lando and he has his arm around her shoulders as he pours a drink into her cup. oscar interrupts by asking what she’s drinking and she’s on her third drink, hears his voice and gets too excited. she spins away from lando as he’s still pouring, the vodka spilling onto the tile as her cup moves with her and she wraps oscar in a hug. she’s telling him how happy she is he decided to come, lando's glaring at him and he's genuinely thankful his best friend dragged him to a party for once.

lando tries to steer her away from oscar numerous times, grabbing her wrist and pulling her with him, resting a possessive arm over her shoulder and walking away with her. each time she finds oscar again and they chat until lando finds her and grumbles that he thought she was getting a drink, or peeing. she's like "ohhh sorry, i saw oscar and got distracted!" oscar brimming with pride that she saw him and forgot what she was doing, forgot about lando. but then lando's steering her away again and he's watching them go, hoping she'll find him again soon.

she lets it slip where they're having dinner the next night, and lando conveniently shows up and joins them at their booth before either of them can stop him.. lando’s never felt better than when oscar’s jaw clenched as he slid into their booth, and dropped his arm over her shoulder like it belonged there, and asked it they mind him joining. oscar snaps that they do mind. but lando ignores him and asks her what they’re doing out together, like it isn’t painfully obvious they’re on a date. they’re both a little more dressed up than normal, wanting to impress the other, and he had seen the soft look she was giving oscar before lando appeared behind him and then sat next to her. it’s definitely awkward and lando is happy with the uncomfortable tension, smirking when the waitress comes over and says she didn’t know they had a third, and asks what he would like to drink and if they’re all ready to order.

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

So I found a book where danish kids has been asked their views about children and birth. Here’s some highlights

”Sometimes you’re yellow in the face when you’re newborn…” - Barbara, 6

”… it’s not the child that gets {yellow}, the dad is.” - Mohammed, 7

”It’s fun when mom gives birth, because then you get McDonalds with your dad.” - Rasmus, 6

”My little sister was born too early. So dad hadn’t been able to do the dishes.” - Rikke, 8

”Vera’s dad left when she was born. But I think they’re still looking for him.” - Christian, 7

”The dad is really nervous and sit and talk all the time. That’s why he can’t be at the birth.” - Kirstie, 8

”The dad can’t tickle the baby when it has just come out. Because it can happen it (the baby) is not used to it.”

”When you’re born, you come to a place where you can breathe. I haven’t gone there yet.” - Rebecca, 6

”I know twins that look alike. Only that the other one is 10 minutes bigger than the other.” - Emil, 8

”If the babies drink the same milk they become twins.” - Mathias, 8

”If they get two kids at once and mom can’t birth both, the dad can give birth to one.” - Rikke, 6

”If the mom doesn’t notice she got three kids then it’s just to remove two.” - Emil, 7

”It doesn’t matter if babies play on the road, because they’re so small cars can’t run over them.” - Alexander, 8

”When you have a little baby you need to make sure it doesn’t smell. Or else the dad will never want to kiss it” - Lotte, 8

”When the baby is born, the mom shouldn’t forget to buy a bra” - Katrine, 8

”You can’t forget to feed the baby, or else it becomes too thin and the intestinals won’t fit.” - Carl, 7

”If the baby has done something really good you need to complement it. Even if it smells.” - Lucas, 7

”Babies need pacificers, or else they’ll make a giant big hickey on the mom.” - Sofie, 8

”When the baby gets home you can’t forget to buy saturday candy* to them and put them in a lot of diapers.” - Maj Beate, 7

*I don’t know how many countries this is a thing in but in the Nordic countries, to make kids not eat too much candy all the time, it’s often common to only let them eat candy on saturday. This is not a rule like an american tiktoker once made it seem like it was, but rather just something parents tell their kids so they don’t eat too much sugar all the time. Every nordic kid has the experience of walking inside the room in the middle of the week and find your parents eating candy, and exclaim ”BUT IT’S NOT SATURDAY?!”

”When the baby is small you should buy a bed with tree trunks with holes in them, so they can look out” - Fadi, 8

”You can’t forget to buy a little hook so the baby can’t get out and make a mess everywhere.” - Bjørn, 6

”The baby can’t drink from a glass when it’s newborn. That’s why the mom pours it in her breast” - Philip, 6

”It doesn’t matter if the kids eat at Makke Donnas*. If you just take away the pickle it’s pretty healthy.” - Rebecca, 6

*I think she means McDonalds but this is how a danish child would pronounce it. My brother pronounced it similarly and we’re swedish. But Makke Donnas might be an actual place in Denmark what do I know

”It doesn’t matter if the child drinks coca cola - it helps when you’re hurt.” - Rasmus, 6

”A tree is called tree. A chair is called chair. Pregnant is called pregnant and that’s why my name is Laura.” - Laura, 7

”It’s only in Vietnam and in poor countries that children should work. In Denmark they shouldn’t, cause we’re millionaires.” - Maj Beate, 7

”I’m gonna go to the cinema and watch ’the ringer of Nutella’*. But I don’t know who to go with. Cause it’s forbidden.” - Nikolaj, 5

*I think he means the hunchback of notre dame, in some translations the title is ”the ringer of notre dame” instead.

”If I have kids I won’t give them a blue eye*. Cause that shows on you.” - Sofus, 7

*They mean it like they’re gonna punch them so their eye gets a bruise, not that their eye color would be blue

”I think it’s ok to get grounded if you have set fire on the pillows.” - Kim, 9

”You have to be nice to your child by asking them to take the trash out in a kind way.” - Maria, 6

[calmasyoghurt]

The joker out pride project.

On tumblr and on ao3.

June 9th, prompt 11. Genderfluid discussions.

Almost an entire month goes by before Kris decides she has to tell someone about all the transgender things she’s learnt. The warmth of early June has finally come to Ljubljana, and the guitar lessons that have become the highlights of Kris’ weeks are about to go on pause for the summer. Kris knows that if she wants to talk about what she’s learned anytime soon, then she has to do it with Jan, and she has to do it before he goes home after their last lesson of the spring together.

Luckily, Jan has no plan on leaving early after their lesson that week. When the teacher has thanked them for this term and wished them a happy summer, Jan simply looks at Kris and says “You have something you want to talk to me about, haven’t you?”. It’s a bit weird, how Jan always seems to know what someone else is thinking. But in this moment Kris is really thankful for that, she hadn’t known how to ask him to stay. Jan simply takes Kris with him, first to the store to get them each something to drink, and then to their usual spot on the grass near the bus station. When they sit down, Jan goes quiet, waiting for Kris to speak. It takes a moment for Kris to collect her thoughts, but eventually she thinks she knows what to say.

“I... I watched some videos on youtube. Did you know that it’s possible to change your gender? There’s surgeries and hormones and, I don’t know, people change their names and stuff”. Kris can hear the nervousness in her own voice. At first she doesn’t even dare to look at Jan, but when she does, he’s looking straight into her eyes.

“I think I’ve heard about that, yes. Is that- would you want any of that?”. It’s calming in a way, to see Jan so calm. He doesn’t seem to think it’s a weird thing to talk about. His question, however, is a difficult one to answer. Kris has asked herself the same thing so many times over the past month, and haven’t been able to come to a clear answer.

“Maybe? I don’t really know. Some of the videos I watched described things that felt like perfect descriptions of me, while I couldn’t relate at all to some of the other ones”.

“You don’t need to do everything though. It doesn’t matter if you want to change one thing or ten things or nothing about yourself. You’ll still be human. I’ll still be your friend”.

Kris’ heart feels like it’s about to explode from emotions. How does Jan always seem to know exactly what to say? Because yes, there might be a few things that Kris would like to change. There are also things that should stay the same. Her friendship with Jan, that’s a thing that shouldn’t change.

“Look, no matter what you do, you’re always my friend, okay? How about this, you’ll go think about if there are any small changes you want to do. Think about if you’d want a new name, or if you want to be called ‘he’, or get your hair cut. Anything like that. Then, on Saturday next week, you take the bus out to Vrhnika. If you want to change anything, we change it, if you don’t, then we jam instead. We’ll have to get that band started anyways. Okay?”.

And of course it’s okay. How could it not be when a plan is served to Kris such a simple way. Everything will be alright.

[incorrect-gunslingers]

This is not gonna be this blog’s usual content

But today is a very, very important anniversary

Four years ago today it was the Covid Lockdown, and I was unemployed, afraid to go outside, and lonely. I’d started this blog as a way to keep myself mentally afloat

And then I got a deeply ominous DM.

Little did I know that @mag7dumbies would become an integral part of my daily life.

In the years since they have become more than a mutual with a Mag 7 pfp sharing headcanons with me on tumblr

They’ve become my best friend. The first person I text in the morning and the last one I text at night, they’ve become the person who can make me laugh so hard I choke. The person who helped me get through my cat’s injury and leg amputation. The person who’s seen me through two jobs and a severe mental health crisis and who has never faltered in their support.

Our Saturday meet-ups are the highlight of my week. No matter how tired I am or how rough work has been or how stressed I am, I can look forward to a few hours where the only thing that matters is whether or not some guy in the 70’s will take his shirt off.

Long story (4 years in fact) -short, I don’t know where I’d be without them, and I’m happy I don’t have to ever find out.

Happy anniversary to the other half of my binary star, I love you pard, and I’ll see you this Saturday.

[eyesontheskyline]

💛and🧡

💛 Yellow: Do you ever alter, highlight, or de-emphasize certain canonical traits in a character? If so, why and describe how. This is such an interesting question and one I feel kind of unqualified to answer for my own writing... You need to, right? Like, to write fic in general, and I think to write anything other than a straight up casefic for CM, you need to tweak the characters and lean into some traits and away from others, because the characters were created to tell procedural crime stories and we're trying to tell romance stories.

I mean for one, I think neither Hotch nor Emily would start any kind of romantic thing with a coworker, but that's the disbelief we suspend when we click into any fanfiction I think - like, we're all just agreeing to go with that when we get into shipping.

In canon, we see that Hotch is soft with his romantic partners. I try and hit a middle ground with this, because he's so soft with them in canon that he feels like a completely different character around them, and that makes it (for me) really difficult to get from platonic to romantic without it just feeling like you've flipped a switch at some point. So that's something I'm aware of. He's tactile with them though, which I use. And Emily is tactile in general - so I write them both as physical touch people, who get a lot of comfort and reassurance and communicate a lot by touching.

I lean into Emily being someone with a strong fight-or-flight reflex, I guess. And I lean into Hotch being kind of a moderate crier - there's a lot of 'Hotch is super stoic' fanon, but we see him tear up actually quite a lot compared to other characters, and not always about the most personally devastating things. The man has perfectly functional tear ducts and a complex emotional life.

I'm not sure what else. . . I know I do it, I just don't know that I can explain how. I just hope I keep enough that they still feel like them.

🧡 Orange: When in the day do you typically write? If I was more in control of the shape of my days / weeks, I'd write between 11pm and 4am - that's when I always used to hit my rhythm, when I had some flexibility. But my life doesn't look like that right now because of Responsibilities (that's not what I call her to her face), so usually I get home from work at about 6.45pm on a Friday and I try and get a run at it then but often end up asleep by like 8pm... then I just write all day Saturday, forget to eat and drink, pee only when it becomes an emergency... repeat on Sunday for as long as possible, and at some point on Sunday my Responsibilities are back and I need to stop.

I also try and get little bits done during the week when kiddo is in bed, but routine is tricky and I'm often wiped out and end up just... also sleeping.

Absolutely nothing about this is healthy or recommended. Don't be me.

[lantur]

Thank you so much to @roseofbattles for the tag!

Ten good things in 2023,

Love. I felt so loved by my husband, my cat, my friends, and my in-laws. This was a year that I badly needed the love, the support, the encouragement, and the comfort they bought me, and they surrounded me with it. I felt so much compassion from my manager at work and the other two ladies in my department. I got so much compassion, care, and empathy from people who read and replied to my posts on tumblr, who sent me messages. Never doubt that your kindness to your friends and family, to your coworkers, to the people on your tumblr dashboard, makes a difference. Your kindness makes life worth living and it saves lives.

Writing. I wrote a novel! I am so proud of myself for starting and finishing this in 2023, and getting through painstaking rounds of edits. Writing and publishing a novel has been a lifelong dream, and I'm so happy I will be able to see that come true within the next several weeks.

Travel. Getting to experience Greece, Washington state, and Peru was healing in so many ways. I'm grateful for getting the opportunity to experience that and see such beautiful things.

Cooking. Cooking is one of my most beloved hobbies, and I got to try so many delicious recipes this year. It feels great to make restaurant-quality food at home. Shout out to recipetineats and Swasthi's Recipes for being the MVPs for helping make all these delicious meals happen!

Discovering new music. It is SO rare for me to listen to new music. Until fall of 2023, I listened to the same artists I have since high school and college. Friends were the gateway to helping me find inspiring new music - Logic, Joyner Lucas, and BTS, and BTS opened the door to me getting into kpop. BTS, Blackpink, (G)-IDLE, Hyuna, Mamamoo, Le Sserafim, Stray Kids, and Monsta X have fueled great workouts, alongside Nicki Minaj, Cardi B, and Megan Thee Stallion.

Fitness. I got back into weightlifting in late summer/early fall of 2023. It has helped me become stronger, feel more confident, and most importantly, run without pain! My endurance, strength, and cardiovascular fitness is so much better than it was this time last year.

Growth. I became more resilient in my professional and personal life, and I hope to reap the benefits of that resilience for years to come.

Medications. After years of trial and error, and inadequate symptom control, I finally got on the correct dose of antidepressants. The benefits have been tremendous.

Routines. My routines brought me great comfort in 2023. Tea in the mornings, walking Westin in the yard on summer mornings, morning workouts, Saturday or Sunday trips to the garden store and planting on summer afternoons, cooking dinner while listening to an audiobook, watching a show with Derek after dinner.

New hobbies. In the last 2 months of 2023, I got into learning Spanish and scrapbooking. I love both. My ~35 minutes of Spanish daily is a highlight of my day, and I had SO much fun spending hours scrapbooking over my winter break. I'm so happy that I am finally making progress on my scrapbooking project, which I started over a year and a half ago.

I would like to tag @wind-on-the-panes, @broomchickabroom, @northshoretragedyeagle, @disgruntledturtle, @lady-harrowhark, @taylor-renee, @candlemouse, and @chewytriforce, as well as anyone else who wants to do this. It was a fun and interesting challenge to think about what I appreciated most about 2023!

[ladystormcrow]

Crow Takes A Trip, Part 1

Hello followers!

If anyone has wondered why my blog has been quieter this past week, it's because Mr. Stormcrow and I are on vacation, taking a 2-week road trip down the West Coast from Seattle to San Diego. This is the trip we originally planned to be our honeymoon last year, but weren't able to take enough time off then -- it's very exciting to finally get to do it!

Under the cut are some pics and highlights from the first week :D I'm doing most of the driving, so husband is usually the designated photographer, and most of these are his work.

We flew into Seattle on Saturday, with a 4-hour layover in Kansas City on the way -- naturally, we had to have some barbecue for lunch. I had never heard of corn ribs before this, but they're really good!

After we landed in Seattle that evening, we pretty much went straight to the hotel. Husband went out to the corner grocery briefly, and had the bad luck to get caught in a downpour.

Sunday was super fun, because we got to meet up with @cayliana @wishuponastarion and @abalidoth and catch up! It's always wonderful to see you guys, and I'm sorry we forgot to take pictures while we were all together! Emma/Thorn, I hope you're feeling better! <3

After lunch, we drove around sightseeing. Some years ago, husband discovered this website, and it's become our go-to for finding weird, unique sites, statues, and other fun things to visit and photograph on road trips.

On Monday we got up early and drove 3 hours up from Seattle to visit Vancouver for the day. Neither of us had ever been to Canada before, so this was a lot of fun.

(Continued here)

[hydrus]

Version 578

windows

zip

exe

macOS

app

linux

tar.zst

I had a good week mostly doing some simple work. In a bonus, animated webps are now fully supported.

full changelog

highlights

Animated webp decoding is not widely supported, but we discovered a method this week and I plugged it into my old (slightly janky) native animation viewer. I have made it work just like the for gif and (a)png, where, within hydrus, images and animations will count as different filetypes. On update, all your existing webps will be queued for a rescan. If they are actually animated, they will become 'animated webp' and get num_frames and a duration, and they'll play animated in the media viewer. Let me know if you run into any trouble with it!

I added an 'eye' icon menu button to the top hover window in the media viewer. It has those five new checkboxes for 'draw stuff in the background' I added last week, and I expect to add 'always on top' and similar options to it in future.

The 'known urls' media menu has a couple changes. It is now just called 'urls'; it gets a 'manage' command, moved from the 'manage' menu; and you can now open an URL 'in a new page' (i.e. opening a new search page with 'system:known url=blah'), so if you need to find all the files that have a particular URL, this is now just one click.

next week

I am now on vacation for a week. As normal I'm just going to disappear to shitpost fake-E3 and otherwise try diligently to achieve nothing of any importance. I'll be back Saturday 15th, with v579 on Wednesday 19th. Thanks everyone, see you later!

[drfirefly08]

might as well send a snippet of the w.i.p. isosano fic (abir long sorry)

He walks to the cafe with a smile on his face, meeting up with Gakushuu has always been the biggest highlight of his week. It’s always a pleasure to see his friend being his true self without worrying about his school duties since his father has been less strict and he hasn’t been in the student council since junior high. Once he entered the cafe, he scanned his surroundings and found Gakushuu already eating a slice of cake in their regular seats. He laughs and walks over to his seat opposite where his friend is sitting. Gakushuu looks up and beams at him, “Yuuma, you’re here!” “Saturday’s always been something I look forward to.” He smiles, “Of course I’m here, I get to see you after all.” His friend slightly blushes at that, “Well, I look forward to this day too.” He quietly says, but not quiet enough for him not to hear. Yuuma chuckles and goes to sit down. “Is it because of the cake or me?” He looks down to the mostly eaten strawberry cake in front of him. “It’s difficult to tell, with your obsession with sweets and all that.” “Wha- Hey!” The other yelled at the accusation, “I’m not obsessed! I just like sweets at a normal level like everyone else.” “Kayano isn’t everyone else, Gakushu.” He teased, grinning. “I wasn’t talking about Yukimura, asshole!” His friend pouted. “Whatever you say, pretty boy.” That makes Gakushuu shut up and continue eating his cake. Yuuma chuckles once more and goes to order a cup of black coffee for himself and another strawberry cake for his friend, because he knows one won’t satisfy him. Eventually, they start talking about anything interesting that occurred this past week and he can’t help but think of how cute and pretty his friend is. He had never stopped wondering how he managed to befriend Gakushuu so quickly, surely treating him like a regular person wasn’t the only reason they started to grow close. “Gakushuu.” The other stopped chatting about something Karma did and looked at him, “Is.. everything alright?” He took a deep breath. “You… Why did you become friends with me?” He looked away, “All I did was act kind.” Gakushuu laughed softly at that, “That’s exactly why I wanted to be friends with you.” Yuuma looked back at him. “I couldn’t sense a hint of malice from you. I couldn’t sense that you wanted me for my money. I couldn’t sense fear.” His friend smiles, “But what I could sense… is genuine kindness and respect for me, not as the rich and smart son of the principal, but respect for me as a human being. There weren’t many like you, so kind and optimistic, so pretty…” Yuuma’s eyes widened at the last word, “You… what did you…” “Oh! I- well… Haha!” His friend laughs nervously. “I have soccer practice in ten minutes! Wow, time sure does fly, haha!” He quickly stood up and placed down some money. “You can keep the change! OKAY BYE!” Then he quickly exited the cafe. “You…” There are many things he wants to say. “You left the soccer team immediately after junior high…” He mumbled instead. ‘Fuck, what did that mean?’

i love writing cute moments between these two, first they get to hug and hold hands in the first fic, now they'll get to kiss in the sequel ;)

okay ik that gakushuu is like ooc but after junior high, he should get to explore and indulge in sweets and act a lil bit cute (yknow as a treat)

[omegaremix]

May 28, 2022.

The opportunity to attend Sacred Bones’ 15th anniversary presented itself pretty quickly. Tickets were released for sale four weeks before the show and I grabbed them right away. I missed out on both Sacred Bones’ 10th shows because of nine months of stay-at-home recovery and now their 15th was a chance to redeem myself.

The build-up was getting heavier as the show drew closer. I had anxiety like never before waiting to attend a New York City show. The 28th came and it started on a dim, greyscale note. Long Island had a string of wet days with Saturday no exception. Rain arrived at the Central Islip station before I had with no telling when it’d stop - if it did. Halfway from my home station to Woodside did the storm subside to nothing.

By the time I transferred from the 7 line to the Q39 bus had the clouds open up to welcome in the blinding basking sun and matching sweltering humidity. The Q39 raced, whipped, and turned wide all throughout Sunnyside and ultimately Maspeth to drop me off in a dense neighborhood of hazy, white 75*F temperatures. I’m in the middle of an unfamiliar yet dense neighborhood. I walk a few blocks into a suspiciously silent area of shackled-up factories, closed warehouses, and shipping centers closed for the weekend; all by myself not knowing or worrying about any rogues waiting in the wings to start trouble. I drew closer to the new activity of open businesses, moving vehicles, and the pedestrians walking through the gauntlet to the Knockdown Center.

Nothing that I could ever imagine would conjure up a would-be dream-state that would become a magical reality.

I was in New York City (Queens) associated with preferably some of the best people in attendance. Surreal dreams I’ve always had now become a reality. The way showgoers sat outside the Knockout Center felt like I was on another college campus. People sitting on the floor silently observing Constant Smiles play as the rays peeked through during sundown. A hypnotized crowd witnessing Anika and Spellling’s mesmerizing performances. A super-colorful closing set by Black Marble, and a sit-down lecture about time - at a music festival? Whether Sacred Bones gamed it themselves or by sheer coincidence, this event had some unusual moments that made for a truly unforgettable experience.

The next day’s opening shift was in the back of my mind; more apparent as midnight approached. Regrettably, I leave the Knockdown Center a little earlier than desired and hitched a ride to Woodmere’s train home and guarantee six hours of sleep. I’m stunned. Bedazzled. My mind is processing the last five hours of what just happened. I’m organizing and interpreting the swirl of feelings, the sights, the colors, the sounds, the crowd, and the happenstance of everything that unfolded as I wait for the rail’s arrival. I take a seat facing direction to the Jamaica stop where I had only one minute to race and take the double-decker train’s upper-lever seat for the rest of the way home.

Spring is over. Summer has officially started.

Offset, The: Spectacles: “Colour”

Smile, The: “You Will…”

Aeges: “Who Are You”

Black Dresses: “Angel Hair”

Iguana Moonlight: “V”

Antonio Sanchez feat. Nine Inch Nails: “I Think We’re Past That Now”

Better Living: “Kid”

Ritualz: “Reintegration”

Feels Fine: “Washed Out Blue”

Doc Hammer: “Commanche”

Kaputt!: “Highlight!”

Grimes: “Shimigami Eyes”

Muslimgauze: “Qom” (edit)

Jade Hairpins: “Mary Magazine”

Totally Unicorn: “Filmed Before A Dead Audience”

Dead When I Found Her: “Dry Bed”

Beauty Pill: “At A Loss”

Savak: No Blues…”

Kaputt!: “Parsonage Square”

JK Flesh: “Urge”

Luca: “Undertow…”

Pink Siifu: “Wayans Brothers”

Alchemist: “Broken Bottles”

Henry Mancini: “Men’s Room Rock”

Principe Valiente: …

Smirk: “Irrelevant Man”

A Number Of Names: “Sharevari”

Daniel Johnston: “In A Lifetime”

100 Proof: Aged In Soul…

Kaputt!: “Accordion”

Kae Tempest: “Salt…”

[medicallymercury]

I haven’t watched the full episode yet (I know what happened generally) because me and my mum watch it when my dad is at work and he isn’t tonight, but I have watched Teddy and Jan’s scenes, sooooo…

Teddy is, or least was, just a kid with a toy ambulance. And I mean that ‘was’ both literally when he was a kid, and in the very recent series 36 naivety-about-the-job sense. Which has survived a little bit up until this point but I think this episode might’ve killed it off. I actually like the idea of Teddy becoming very disillusioned with the job and still never leaving it. I don’t know if I’ve expressed this in a post before but Teddy has to be a paramedic - it’s the only thing he wants to do, it’s the thing he’s best at, it’s required to keep the tragedy of that family going - but it’s not really good for him. To give the writers far too much credit, he’s the heir to the throne in a Shakespearean tragedy, it’ll kill him and he has no choice but to keep going after it. Anyway, this a great episode for my Teddy Has To Be A Paramedic thoughts. All the horrible things that happened, the fact that he's clearly shaken up, and he's still trying to keep working. That is a kid with a toy ambulance standing too close to the road if I ever saw one.

Sometimes the spoilers focus on something largely irrelevant to what is actually happening in the episode, huh? I don’t really know what to say about Len beyond 'that’s gonna fuck Teddy up'. That’s horrifying. I am really looking forward to seeing how Teddy is doing in next week's episode cause that was……….......… There’s also kinda parallels between Jan (reasonably) telling Teddy he can’t stay with Len and Jan (justifiably) not telling Teddy about Gethin going to Switzerland if you're looking for them. Edit: they also highlighted (…I don’t like to assume the writers intended to anything they did well recently) the fact that Teddy and Jan have both been really alone for a long time, since before Gethin died they’ve only really had each other because Teddy stopped actually trusting Paige and Sah around the time that Jan and Ffion re-broke-up and since Gethin died they haven’t had each other, with that part where Len asks if he and Teddy can get a dog because Jan asked Ffion the same thing when they were planning their retirement-that-wasn’t.

Also, that’s another Jan and Teddy episode with a drugs based plot point (alongside literally everything they were called to in Is The Patient Breathing? and Kezzie, AJ and their mum in Break Your Heart). Probably unintentionally, Ross looms.

The scene where Teddy wants to go back to the explosion and Jan stops him is FUCKING GREAT. Another thing I think about a lot are the ways that their personal relationship inevitably bleeds into the professional. Jan as Teddy’s boss and Jan as Teddy’s aunt. That scene, first of all, has Teddy’s tendency to pretend he’s fine and deny that he needs help or to step back from work. An overlooked trait of his, if you’re asking me, but one that has been there a long time (and that we've also seen Jan sometimes has as well). Also, there is a clear moment where Jan switches from talking to Teddy as his boss to talking as his aunt and I love it. It’s from “I know how hard it is when…" to “I know how hard it is.” when her tone changes entirely and he turns to look at her after looking away. I appreciate that singular moment so much.

Generally? Di Botcher and Milo Clarke, you've done it again (made me feel physically ill about pretend paramedics).

Next week’s spoilers about them: how many times can I say that it’s not the storyline I dreamed of after Gethin, but that I am very excited for their stuff next week anyway? (Especially because “he’s got nobody to talk to about work” makes me foolishly hopeful for a Sah mention.)

I'm gonna go listen to Class of 2013 and Fireworks by Mitski and think things about Teddy until it's next Saturday.

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

House Republican Conference Chairwoman Elise Stefanik had a sharp response to the news that University of Pennsylvania President Liz Magill was stepping down from her position over the weekend: “One down. Two to go.”

It was Stefanik’s line of questioning at a hearing last week before the House Committee on Education and the Workforce that attracted the most attention from the roughly five hours of testimony. A series of exchanges went viral when Magill and other university presidents at Harvard and MIT failed to condemn calls for the genocide of Jews as explicitly against campus rules on harassment and bullying. The answers from such high-profile leaders in higher education sparked bipartisan backlash and condemnation, which led to Magill’s departure and increasing pressure to oust both Harvard’s President Claudine Gay and MIT President Sally Kornbluth.

Stefanik, a Harvard graduate herself, has been leading the charge since the hearing to highlight and investigate campus antisemitism, and her efforts have attracted supporters from across the aisle as well as former President Donald Trump.

In a new statement Monday, Stefanik again called out MIT and Harvard, saying, “The leadership at these universities is totally unfit and untenable.”

“As clear evidence of the vastness of the moral rot at every level of these schools, this earthquake has revealed that Harvard and MIT are totally unable to grasp this grave question of moral clarity at this historic moment as the world is watching in horror and disgust,” Stefanik said in the statement. “It is pathetic and abhorrent.”

Stefanik announced late last week the committee was launching an investigation into Harvard, MIT and the University of Pennsylvania. While the investigation became public before news of Magill’s resignation broke, the New York congresswoman’s statements since then have made clear she’s not finished with the issue.

“This forced resignation of the President of Penn is the bare minimum of what is required,” Stefanik said in a statement over the weekend. “These universities can anticipate a robust and comprehensive Congressional investigation of all facets of their institutions’ negligent perpetration of antisemitism including administrative, faculty, and overall leadership and governance.”

Former Penn board chair Scott Bok also resigned Saturday.

Trump praised Stefanik as “very smart” over the weekend.

“I guess they’re all gonna be losing their jobs within the next day or two, but one down, two to go,” Trump said in a speech hosted by the New York Young Republican Club late Saturday night – repeating Stefanik’s line hours after she put her statement out.

Stefanik has a polarizing reputation on Capitol Hill as a staunch supporter of Trump. But the congresswoman has managed to amass Democratic support for pushing for the ouster of university presidents. She co-wrote a letter dated Friday with Democratic Rep. Jared Moskowitz of Florida demanding those presidents’ removal. The letter was also signed by Democrats Josh Gottheimer of New Jersey and Joe Courtney of Connecticut.

“I am proud to lead a bipartisan letter with @RepMoskowitz and 72 of our colleagues to the members of the Governing Boards of @Harvard, @MIT, and @Penn demanding that their presidents be removed after this week’s @EdWorkforceCmte hearing,” Stefanik tweeted Friday.

Gay has since apologized for her remarks, in an interview with The Harvard Crimson on Thursday.

“I got caught up in what had become at that point, an extended, combative exchange about policies and procedures,” Gay told the student newspaper. “What I should have had the presence of mind to do in that moment was return to my guiding truth, which is that calls for violence against our Jewish community — threats to our Jewish students — have no place at Harvard, and will never go unchallenged.”

“I am sorry,” she said. “Words matter.”

The Executive Committee of the MIT Corporation, MIT’s governing board, issued a statement last week saying President Sally Kornbluth has their “full and unreserved support.”

Stefanik, who was first elected in 2014, replaced then-Rep. Liz Cheney as GOP conference chairwoman in May 2021. While she voted against one of Trump signature legislative victories – his 2017 tax plan – she attracted significant attention for her impassioned defense of Trump around the former president’s first impeachment investigation in 2019.

While she’s been one of the most visible messengers for the House GOP Conference, she was not one of the many Republicans to throw themselves in for nomination to be the next House Speaker, after Kevin McCarthy was ousted earlier this fall.

Since the October 7 Hamas terrorist attack on Israel, the Department of Education has opened an unprecedented number of investigations into alleged incidents of hate on college campuses.

Both Harvard and Penn, along with 11 other colleges and five K-12 school districts, have come under investigation since that time. The Department of Education has told CNN that the situation is becoming untenable for the Office for Civil Rights, and that it doesn’t have the investigative staff to match the influx of cases, shining a light on where the investigation Stefanik announced last week may be able to fill in those gaps.