#so i need to know how they calculate this

[ectocreature]

watching identity crisis since it's the anniversary of its airing and. um. i couldn't help but notice jack effortlessly pushing a bunch of roller coaster cars with one hand.

looking it up, the best answer I could get was here, which said that cars with two rows weigh about 1,600 pounds each. i know this is speaking in past tense but also trying to find an answer to this question sucks because the weights vary based on the year the cars are from so figure 2006 + past tense is good enough for something set in 2004.

which, this is already a lot. in fact, the most that any human being has ever deadlifted was 1,104.5 pounds, done by the strongman Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson. but how many cars are there here?

using an earlier scene, i count five.

putting 1,600 times 5 into a calculator...

Thats eight thousand pounds. This isn't even considering the weight of the people sitting in the cars.

if we were to take the average weights of teenaged boys/girls around the age of 14 and multiply them by... let's say four each (this count is excluding Fun Danny since Jack grabs him) then we'll get...

That's 868 more pounds to add to the load. (Granted, this is assuming everybody on the cars weighs the same (unlikely), that this measure is even indicative of how much they would even weigh, especially back in 2004 (unlikely), and that everybody on the roller coaster is 14 years old. (again. Unlikely.) However, this is the best estimate we can get.)

In total, that is 8,868 pounds that Jack is pushing. Granted, this is not considering the force that he needs to push out, but we'd need acceleration to to calculate the force since the formula is Force = Mass x Acceleration. We don't have the acceleration and I'm not dealing with that right now.

But still.

Jack is pushing 8,868 pounds with one hand. Whilst inside of an object that is floating in mid air and probably doesn't have too much leverage for him to atay steady on. Good god

[merthosus]

Bloody braiding

Summary: Fives comes in after a mission late at night. You were getting ready for bed but your hair wasn't braided yet, so you kindly ask him to do it.

This got into my mind right before sleeping hope you enjoy it!

"I am full of blood and you are asking me, if I could braid your hair?"

You were sitting on the floor at your room in the umbrella academy. Outside, it's slowly becoming fall and wet leaves are collecting on the windowsill. The walk to the bathroom was clearly too far for you, so you sat cross-legged in front of your large body mirror and embalmed your lips. It was already dark and you were getting ready for bed. Your skin had already been washed, your teeth brushed and you had changed into your best pajamas.

“You scared me, you tramp!” you say angrily as you pick up the balm again and screw it shut. As you look up at Five, your eyes widen a little when you see his bloodstained shirt. “Can you braid my hair?” you ask. Five puts his head to one side as he closes the door behind him. “I am full of blood and you are asking me, if I could braid your hair?” he asks you incredulously.

“Is that your blood?” you ask, pointing to his shirt. He just shakes his head and sits down on your bed. “Well then,” you say as you slide backwards between his legs.

Five sighs heavily as he looks down at you, still in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous,” he mutters under his breath, but his hands are already reaching for the hair tie that’s resting on your wrist.

You lean back slightly, enjoying the feeling of someone else taking over for a change. Five’s hands, though still smeared with dried blood, are surprisingly gentle as he starts dividing your hair into two sections. “You’re going to ruin my pajamas, you know,” you say softly, your eyes fluttering shut. The warmth of his presence feels oddly comforting, despite the unsettling state he’s in.

“I’ve been through worse,” he replies, his voice gruff but less sharp than usual. His fingers move deftly, and you realize he must have done this before. It strikes you, briefly, that Five’s life has been so much more complicated than any of yours.

“So… who’s blood is that?” you ask casually, not quite ready to face the full weight of the situation. It’s easier to talk while his hands are braiding your hair. There’s a lull in the air, as if the night itself is holding its breath.

“Do you really want to know?” he says, finishing the first braid with a quiet snap of the hair tie. You feel his fingers move to the next section of hair, his touch steady, unfazed by the topic. “Maybe not,” you admit, shivering slightly as the cool night air filters in through the window. Fives knee shivers a little bit as you let your head roll back on his thigh to look up at him.

Fives eyes do a little wider, as your head touched his inner thigh. "What?", you ask him confused ´, tilting your head a little bit. "N...nothing..", he shudders. You look deep into his eyes, trim to find an explanation for his odd behavior. "I know you had a bad day, can I help you in any way?", you ask him, laying your hand onto his thigh.

Five's gaze flickers as your hand rests gently on his thigh. He swallows hard, clearly not used to this kind of tenderness. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, soften for a brief moment before he quickly masks it behind his usual stoic demeanor.

"You don't need to worry about me," he mutters, his voice a little gruffer than before. "I've been through worse." His hands, which were so deft and confident when braiding your hair, now fidget slightly, unsure what to do.

You can sense that there's more going on than he’s letting on, but pressing him might push him away. Five is used to carrying his burdens alone, and you're not sure how much he’ll let you in. But you're here now, and you want to help.

“You’re always saying that,” you reply softly, your thumb unconsciously tracing a small circle on his thigh. “But you don’t have to deal with everything by yourself.”

Five glances down at your hand on his leg, as if contemplating whether to pull away or allow it. There’s a long pause, the room growing still as the air between you feels heavy with unspoken words. He closes his eyes briefly, as if waging some internal battle.

"Maybe not," he finally admits, his voice almost too quiet to hear. It’s the closest he’s ever come to admitting vulnerability. He looks away, his jaw tightening as if the admission alone was too much.

You nod, understanding the gravity of his words. You shift slightly so you’re sitting closer to him, the warmth of your presence offering him comfort, even if he won’t say it out loud.

"Let me help, just this once," you say gently. "You don’t have to say anything. Just let me be here."

Five doesn’t respond immediately, but his shoulders seem to relax, if only a little. His hand moves hesitantly, hovering over yours for a moment before resting on top of it. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes.

reveal. The vulnerability in his touch is a stark contrast to the bloodstained chaos he’s been through. It’s quiet, the room filled with the soft rustling of leaves outside and the steady beat of your heart against the tension in the air.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The weight of unspoken words lingers, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Instead, it feels like a kind of peace—fragile and rare, but present nonetheless.

"You don't have to fix everything, you know," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. Your thumb continues its soft pattern on his thigh, grounding both of you in the simplicity of the moment.

Five lets out a small huff of laughter, but there's no humor in it—more like disbelief. "It's not that simple," he mutters, eyes still avoiding yours as if he's afraid to be seen.

"I know," you reply softly, leaning back slightly against him, feeling the warmth of his body behind you. "But you're not alone, Five. Not tonight."

His grip tightens briefly, and his fingers twitch as if he’s fighting the urge to pull away again. But instead, he stays still, his jaw clenched as if holding back something he can’t quite articulate.

The silence stretches once more before Five lets out a shaky breath. His eyes finally meet yours, a storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface—frustration, weariness, and something else, something softer.

Without saying a word, he leans forward, his forehead pressing gently against yours. The world around you seems to fade, the night drawing closer as you’re wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Then, with a tenderness that surprises both of you, Five dips his head slightly, brushing his lips softly against yours. The kiss is slow, tentative, as if he’s testing the waters of something unfamiliar. You return the kiss just as gently, your hands moving to the back of his neck, fingers slipping through his hair as you pull him a little closer.

It’s not rushed or desperate, but rather a quiet understanding—a shared moment between two people who have seen too much of the world but have found solace, if only for tonight, in each other.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes stay on yours, softer now, but still guarded. He rests his forehead against yours again, his breath steady but slightly unsteady, as if letting go of this much was harder than he expected.

"Thank you," he whispers, so softly you almost don’t catch it. But the weight of those two words hangs in the air, and you know it’s more than just gratitude—it’s trust.

Hope you guys liked it!

[daisyofwaterdeep]

i have a NSFW Gale/Reader thought

hear me out on this one:

You have trouble falling asleep and tend to pick up potions of sleep when you can. A few sips around bedtime knocks you out and helps you be well rested in the morning. You recently finished off a bottle so when you and the gang are looting some crates, you pocket a fresh potion of the creamy lilac concoction.

Fast forward to that night. You stayed up a bit later than you intended, looking over some new scrolls and books you'd picked up that day, and decide you need a little sleep aid. You take a swig of your new potion and settle down in your tent for bed. But sleep doesn't take you. Instead, your breasts start aching. For a few moments you think that maybe your period is coming earlier than thought, but the ache keeps growing deeper, and when you go to feel your tits, you notice that they feel uncomfortably tight...full. And as you squeeze them, you feel dampness against your palms.

Confused, scared, and fighting the first inklings of panic, you grab the potion and stumble out of your tent. Luckily, you're not the only night owl and can see the warm glow of a candle from Gale's tent.

You announce your presence and he welcomes you inside, closing a book of his own and sitting up as you duck into his tent and close the flap for privacy. His pleasant smile immedately falls as he sees your worried face.

You quickly explain about the potion, how it might have been contaminated or perhaps spoiled. Gale takes the bottle and swirls the contents before uncorking it and giving it a sniff. He frowns.

"It uses some similar ingredients to a potion of sleep, so it's viscosity and smell are quite similar...but I believe I know what this is." He looks at you evenly before asking, "Did you take it?"

You nod, and Gale sighs from his nose.

"What sort of symptoms are you experiencing?"

It's a bit embarassing to admit, but you tell him, and he sighs again. You can see that he's not happy with the development and you quickly apologize for the hassle. His face changes then and he waves his hands in front of himself.

"No, no, it's not you, dear. It was an easy mistake to make. It's just that...How do I put this."

He takes in a deep breath and motions for you to sit next to him. You do, and he continues speaking, his voice slow and careful.

"That potion is used for mothers who are having troubles... shall we say, producing. It stimulates the breast tissue and...well, I'm sure you've realized."

Oh gods. You look down at your night shirt, seeing the small wet spots around your nipples. You look back at Gale (just as he looks away--it seems he was staring at your chest as well) and you ask what you should do.

Gale clears his throat. "Massaging the area will help, but to extract everything...you wouldn't happen to know a hungry baby, would you?"

You know he's trying to crack a silly joke, but it only makes tears spring to your eyes. Gale flounders, his hands fluttering around like scared birds before one lands on your thigh.

"Don't despair, dear. I'll...I know it may be a tad unorthodox, but if you'll let me..."

You tell him you don't care what he does, as long as it fixes your problem. You see Gale's jaw flex. He seems to be calculating something in his head before he nods curtly.

"I'll take care of it, don't you worry. Here, lay down for me."

He quickly grabs some pillows and arranges them comfortably on the ground and you lean back, the pillows propping you up in a half-lounging position.

He scoots close to you, his hands going to the buttons of your shirt before he looks up at you with those big brown eyes, silently asking your permission. You can feel your cheeks flush as you nod. He begins unfastening the buttons from the bottom, and with shaking hands, you start from the top, meeting him in the middle. Your shirt falls open, and your breasts are on full display in the candlelight, visibly tight and full, your nipples hard and wet with smeared milk.

"Do they hurt?" He asks, voice a hush in the night air.

You nod, fighting the urge to close your shirt as Gale stares.

"I won't massage them just yet, then. We need to extract some of the, erm, fluid first." He wettens his bottom lip and scoots a bit closer to you. "Do you understand what I need to do?"

It seems that he's just as nervous about this as you are-- you know what he's getting at, but neither of you seem brave enough to say it out loud. Instead, you nod your head and tell him to do whatever he needs to.

He nods and starts lowering his head hesitantly. "I know it's going to feel odd, but it's necessary."

You return the nod and fight back a shiver as you feel the warmth of his breath against your nipple. You look away just as his lips meet the swollen bud and bite your lip to stop any involuntary noises from leaving you. The feeling of his hot lips closing around your nipple and then the velvet wetness of his tongue cupping around it has heat flooding your stomach and cheeks.

He starts with a light suction, your nipple gently pulled into his mouth. You can feel the milk leaving you as he begins suckling, hot spurts that provide an almost instant relief in your aching breast.

You let out a soft sigh and Gale releases your nipple and looks up at you, his cheeks rosy and eyes darker than usual.

"You alright?"

You apologize and ensure him it's fine, telling him that it feels surprisingly good before realizing what you said and stumbling over your words. You flounder and clarify that the relief of the pressure feels good, and he nods his head quickly.

"I knew exactly what you meant." He adjusts himself on the ground, "I'm relieved to hear that it's working...we'll keep going then."

But before he dips back down, you stop him. You realize that he hasn't spat out what he's sucked from you and ask if you all should grab a bowl or something so that he doesn't have to swallow.

"I don't mind," He says, "It's less cumbersome this way." He stutters for a moment before adding, "U-unless it makes you uncomfortable, of course. I'd be happy to--"

You cut him off and tell him it's fine like this. And then, shyly, you ask him what it tastes like.

"It's...sweet. But not overly so." He gestures to your breast, where a pearly drop dangles from the tip of your nipple. "Try it for yourself."

So you do. You swipe the drop onto your finger and suck it into your mouth, surprised at the sweetness, even if that's how Gale had described it. When you look back at Gale, you see a curious heat in his eyes that he quickly masks before bringing his head down once more.

This time, you watch as he latches onto your nipple. The peek of his tongue as he takes it into his mouth makes you clench involuntarily. And then comes that relief again, that lessening of pressure that has you sighing and leaning your head back.

It's almost hypnotic. The feeling of his lips suckling at you, the press of his tongue against your sore nipple, the pain that slowly ebbs away and is quickly being replaced by guilty arousal. You close your eyes and sigh again, hand coming to the back of his head without thinking.

Your eyes fly open and you quickly apologize again. Gale pulls off of your nipple but doesn't lean up, his words breathed hotly against your sensitive breast.

"No need to apologize...please, get comfortable."

You tell him that he should get comfortable too-- you don't know how long this is going to take, and seeing him leaning forward on his knees is making your own want to ache in sympathy. He laughs softly, sheepishly.

"I do admit, it's not entirely comfortable. In that case..."

He moves slowly, carefully between your legs, looking up at you for permission that you grant with an encouraging nod.

Gale lays himself gingerly on top of you, his face level with your breasts. It's how lovers would cuddle, and it brings your heart to your throat.

"There, that's much better," Gale's voice has a slight tremble as he hovers over your untouched breast, "Is it comfortable for you as well?"

You tell him it is.

"Alright..." He takes his hand and gently cups the weight of your breast, "Let's work on this one a bit, shall we?"

He begins sucking at your other nipple, just as tender as the first one. But this time, with him laying against you and your hand returning to his hair, you find yourself letting out a moan despite yourself.

And this time, he doesn't pull away to ask if you're okay--The sound was purely from pleasure, and he seems to know it. Instead, he responds with a slightly stronger suck, his eyes closed and his long lashes on his cheeks. You try not to squirm, the heat between your legs growing to a point that you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy. You wonder if he can feel the thump of it against his stomach.

You don't know how long it goes on. The gentle pull of his mouth on you, the feeling of his warm breaths against your skin, his soft hair beneath your fingers...it's all so decadently pleasurable and you lose yourself in the feeling.

He swaps between your breasts, his tongue laving at your nipple before taking it into his mouth. The feeling of it makes you jolt and shudder and moan. His hand continues cupping your other breast, gently kneading it in time with each suckle. You feel a warm trickle of milk from your free nipple and watch as it rolls down the swell of your tit before meeting his hand. He unlatches himself and goes to that breast instead, licking the cooling trail up your skin before taking your nipple once again.

His tongue is becoming greedier with each of your noises, licking your areola, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin and his nose pressing into the plushness of your breast. You hold his head firmer against you, legs closing around his body as you fight to not grind against him.

He's fully groping you now, both hands gently squeezing your breasts as his hungry mouth takes turns lavishing both nipples with his attention. His eyes are still closed and his brow is furrowed as he works, panting for air between each switch but never allowing himself to fully catch his breath.

You can feel the flow of your milk drying up. The ache in your breasts has mercifully subsided, leaving them feeling tender and sensitive. But Gale doesn't seem ready to stop-- he sucks harder at them, coaxing out each drop against his tongue.

So you don't stop him. You lean back against the pillows and run your hand over his back, through his hair, letting him nurse from you to his content. And as you watch him, you realize with a cold jolt that he's rutting himself against the ground. It's subtle, almost completely missable, but you can see the way his ass flexes as his toes dig into the ground for purchase.

The revelation finally breaks your control. You moan his name and raise your hips against him, spreading your legs as his teeth dig into your skin.

It's as if he had been waiting for this moment. He's sliding up your body immediately, his hot, panted breaths against your face sweet with your milk.

"Gods, I'm--"

Whatever he's going to say is lost as he takes your mouth, that skilled tongue that has been teasing your nipples all this time now pushing past your lips, that sweetness intensified as he kisses you desperately. His body slots perfectly against yours, his hard cock pressing against your pussy and grinding into it, starved for friction. Even through both sets of your clothes you can feel his member pulsing, and as he dry fucks you he groans into your mouth, his hands hungrily feeling over your body, your face, your breasts.

You cry out as the orgasm that has been building all this time finally breaks within you, and you cling to him as you rut madly against him. Your own passionate ministrations make Gale still, and it isn't until you hear his own throaty groan that you understand why.

Your arched back deflates back into the pillows, and Gale's body follows, as if not wanting to be apart from you. You can feel the twitching of his cock still buried between your legs, uneven jumps and shudders that have him gasping and pulling out of the kiss.

"Gods, I'm...I'm so sorry..." He pants, eyes fluttering open and worry knitting his brow. "That was...inappropriate, to say the least."

You hold the side of his face and reassure him that it's alright. And, you add with a smile, his unorthodox methods have managed to do what you sought to accomplish in the first place.

"I must say, I'm rather tired myself." Gale shares your smile, "Why don't you spend the night, in that case? Besides, it's best for me to be nearby, in case you need more...extracting."

You happily oblige.

[matcha3mochi]

fast lane

gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru

🪼⋆｡𖦹°🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The racetrack was buzzing with excitement, the roar of engines deafening as the crowd cheered for their favorite racers. Among the contenders, two stood out: Suguru Geto, known for his smooth, calculated style, and Satoru Gojo, the reckless daredevil who raced as if the rules didn’t apply to him. Both were legends in their own right, but for you, they were more than just racers—they were your best friends, and lately, something more.

You had been part of their team for years now, working as an engineer and mechanic. The three of you were inseparable, with a history that stretched back to when Geto and Gojo were still rookies. The camaraderie between them had always been competitive, and that competitive edge often spilled over into your dynamic with them. Flirtations, teasing remarks, and the occasional glimmer of something unspoken had always danced between you, Geto, and Gojo. And now, it felt like things were on the verge of tipping over.

Standing in the pit, you watched them prepare for their next race. Gojo’s white and blue car gleamed under the sun, while Geto’s black and purple machine had an almost intimidating aura about it. Both were polar opposites in style, just like their drivers.

“You look nervous,” a familiar voice said from behind you.

You turned to find Gojo sauntering up, his racing suit half-zipped down to reveal a white undershirt clinging to his toned chest. His trademark grin was plastered on his face, hidden slightly behind his racing helmet that dangled from his fingers. The white hair falling messily around his head didn’t help your already weak composure.

“Why would I be nervous?” you shot back, trying to keep your cool as you fiddled with the tool in your hand. Gojo always had a way of getting under your skin—playful, cocky, but also so damn irresistible.

“You’re always nervous before our races,” Gojo teased, stepping closer until he was invading your personal space. His icy blue eyes flickered with amusement as he tilted his head. “Or is it because you’re worried I’ll leave Geto in the dust again?”

“Please,” Geto’s voice cut in smoothly from behind, his tone calm but edged with a bit of playful sarcasm. “You’ve been eating my dust since last season, Gojo.”

Geto approached, his dark hair neatly tied back, though a few strands had escaped, framing his face in a way that made him look effortlessly handsome. He was the opposite of Gojo in every way—quiet, reserved, and dangerously focused. The two of them, standing so close, with you caught in the middle, felt like being between fire and ice.

You let out a sigh, feeling the familiar tug of their banter. “You two never stop, do you?”

Geto gave you one of his rare, subtle smiles. “Can’t help it. I know how much you enjoy watching me win.”

Gojo leaned in closer to your other side, his breath brushing your ear. “Or maybe you just like seeing me push the limits,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. “It’s more fun when there’s a bit of danger involved, isn’t it?”

Your heart stuttered at the attention. You had long since accepted the fact that you were caught between two forces of nature, each pulling you in different directions. And while the rivalry between them was playful on the surface, there had always been an undercurrent of something deeper, especially when it came to you.

“Well,” you said, trying to shake off the sudden heat crawling up your neck. “I just hope both of you make it to the finish line in one piece.”

Gojo laughed, standing up straight and running a hand through his hair. “Oh, I’ll finish alright. And when I do, maybe we can celebrate, just the three of us.”

Geto raised an eyebrow, the smallest of smirks tugging at his lips. “Only if you can keep up, Gojo. Wouldn’t want you to be too tired after losing again.”

You rolled your eyes at their bickering. “Alright, enough. Both of you need to focus on the race. Save the trash talk for afterward.”

Gojo winked at you before walking back to his car. “You’ve got it, boss. But I’ll be expecting a kiss for good luck before I start.”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief, but before you could retort, Geto leaned in close, his voice low and smooth. “You should give me one too,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “You know I race better when you’re thinking of me.”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by the intensity in his voice. He was always quieter, more restrained, but moments like this? Moments where he turned his full attention on you felt like the world around you was narrowing to just the two of you.

You cleared your throat, trying to maintain your composure. “I’m not giving anyone anything until one of you wins.”

“Then we’ll both win,” Gojo called out, sliding into his car with a grin that could light up the entire track.

Geto’s smirk deepened as he straightened up, his dark eyes locking with yours before he finally turned to walk away. “You’d better keep your word.”

As the race began, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Engines roared to life, and the crowd erupted into cheers. You took your position at the pit, your heart racing as the cars sped off into the distance.

From the sidelines, you could feel the tension and excitement in the air. Gojo took the lead almost immediately, his car weaving through the competition with an exhilarating ease. You watched as he pushed his limits, taking risky turns that had you gasping in anticipation. He loved the thrill of the race, and you could see the joy written all over his face.

Meanwhile, Geto was playing the long game, maintaining his position a few cars behind. His eyes were sharp and focused, assessing every move of his competitors. It was mesmerizing to watch him strategize, calculating when to push forward and when to hold back.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, the thrill of their rivalry igniting something deep within you. This wasn’t just another race. It felt personal. The way both of them had looked at you before they started, the challenge in their eyes—it was as if this race had become about more than just who would cross the finish line first. It was about who would win... you. Each time Gojo took a daring risk, you felt yourself hold your breath, and every time Geto executed a perfect turn, you couldn’t help but cheer internally for him.

As they approached the final lap, the tension reached a fever pitch. Gojo and Geto were neck and neck, both pushing their cars to the limit. Gojo took a sharp turn, the tires screeching as he maneuvered dangerously close to the edge, while Geto followed, expertly handling his own car as he slipped into position beside him.

You could hardly breathe as they sped down the final stretch, engines roaring and tires squealing. The finish line was in sight, and the crowd was on their feet, screaming for their favorites. You stood at the edge of the pit, heart racing, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

As they crossed the finish line, the world seemed to hold its breath. In an instant, both cars shot past the checkered flag, and it was impossible to tell who had won. The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps, and you found yourself rushing toward the pit. The officials were already debating the results, but it didn’t matter. For you, the race had been a tie from the start.

Both drivers pulled into the pit, their cars screeching to a halt. Gojo was the first to step out, pulling off his helmet and shaking his hair loose. He looked exhilarated, eyes bright as he jogged over to you.

“Told you I’d win,” he said with a cocky grin, but before you could reply, Geto stepped out of his car, calm as ever.

“Technically, it’s a tie,” Geto pointed out, but there was no irritation in his voice. In fact, there was something almost satisfied in his expression, as if he knew that neither of them could truly lose today.

You crossed your arms, trying to look stern, but the smile on your face gave you away. “You guys are impossible, you know that?”

Gojo stepped closer, his grin widening. “So, about that celebration…?”

Geto’s gaze darkened with a quiet intensity, and he stepped forward as well. “You made a promise, didn’t you?”

Caught between them again, you felt the familiar pull—the heat of their rivalry and the way they both looked at you, like you were the real prize they had been fighting for all along.

Maybe you were.

“Well,” you said with a teasing smile, “I guess I owe you both.”

Gojo chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as Geto stood close on your other side, his hand brushing yours. “I think we can work something out.”

And in that moment, with both of them beside you, it felt like maybe, just maybe, they both had won.

[m1ngkis]

Hongjoong spending that song writing money on you

A/N: cute lil fluff that's all also I need somebody to spoil me REAL BAD

It starts with you making your monthly budget on his computer and leaving the file open while you go to make a cup of tea. Now, Hongjoong isn't usually a snooper but when it concerns you, he finds it in his impulses to be a tad bit nosy.

A glance turns into him stealing your seat and scrolling through your expenses as he calculates the numbers. When you return, you find him with a confused expression as the computer screen glows against his skin. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out why you don't spend any money." Hongjoong spares you a glance before scowling at the numbers again. "What's going on?"

"Hongjoong, that's really all I've got to spend." You chuckle at him and seat yourself on his lap, setting your mug down beside the keyboard.

"You know you can always use my cards right? For anything, seriously." He tilts his head up to meet your eyes as your finger work through his hair

"I know, baby." Your lips peck his forehead and he drops the subject (for the time being)

It isn't until you find yourself eyeing a 10,000 dollar bag with so much need it makes him a little jealous, only to pout and start to walk away from the store window, pulling at his hand to go somewhere else.

Suddenly, Hongjoong is tugging you back and into the store, kindly asking the staff to ring up the bag in the window.

"Hongjoong, I can't" You are quick to tell the staff to return the bag and forget about the whole thing but Hongjoong is faster, swiping his card and stuffing it into your purse without a word.

As he waits for the staff to package your new bag, he plants a kiss to your cheek and wraps his arm around your waist.

"I never want to see you pout like that again. I don't care how much money you spend. I've written plenty of hits for it not to matter. Got it?"

[illegalpaladin]

Thanks to @spirkme915 for the prompt Touch-Starved Bones!

.

.

.

“Spock, have you noticed anything strange about the doctor?”

Spock kept his gaze firmly on the chess board. He didn't speak for a long moment as he considered his next move. Finally, he picked up his knight. “I have noticed many strange things about the doctor, Captain. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Jim frowned, his thoughts drifting to McCoy and away from their game. He moved a piece absently. “I've noticed he has this… habit. If he's distracted, and I touch him, he–” Spock moved another piece and claimed another of Jim's. “Well, he leans into it.”

“Physical contact is important for humans,” Spock said coolly. He watched Jim move a rook, then immediately claimed it with his own. “Perhaps he is deprived of it.”

“Mm. Yes.” Jim picked up his bishop and then turned his gaze upwards. “Perhaps.”

“Checkmate.”

Jim looked back at the board to find his king cornered. His frown deepened.

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Your game is off today, Captain.”

“Yes,” Jim mumbled, “It would seem I am… distracted.”

–

Usually, Jim left the experiments up to his Science Officer. But this one was personal to him, and so he decided to pursue it himself.

It started out simple enough. A hand on McCoy's shoulder as they talked. Brushing a little too close when he walked by. Innocent but intentional touches.

If McCoy was expecting it, he'd have no reaction.

But if he wasn't, if he were too engrossed in what he was doing or their conversation– without fail, McCoy would lean into the point of contact.

–

“Jim, what the hell are you doing?”

McCoy had been showing Jim something on his PADD, and Jim had placed a hand on the small of his back as he leaned over to look. But almost as soon as he had brushed the fabric of McCoy's shirt, McCoy had straightened up.

Jim looked back innocently. “You were trying to show me something. I was trying to see it.”

“Cut the crap, Jim.” McCoy crossed his arms, the PADD held loosely in one hand. “You know what I'm talking about.”

Jim offered a slight frown as he shook his head.

McCoy narrowed his eyes. “The touching, Jim. What's with all the touching?”

“Ah,” Jim said, as if he'd been caught. “So you've noticed.”

“Of course I noticed.” McCoy sighed and leaned against the nearest biobed. “You've been doing it an awful lot.”

Jim nodded. He shifted his weight. “I got to thinking, Bones. You're a doctor. You touch people all the time. You take care of them.”

McCoy uncrossed an arm to wave Jim onward, telling him to get on with it.

“And I realized– who’s taking care of the doctor?”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “I take care of myself.”

“Yes, but that's exactly my point–” Jim put his hand on McCoy's shoulder. “Spock pointed out to me that humans need physical contact.”

McCoy scoffed. “You said it yourself, Jim. I touch people all the time.”

“Yes, but who's touching you?”

McCoy hesitated.

Jim examined him closely. “Would you like me to stop? Say the word and I will.”

McCoy sighed. Jim could see the internal calculation as he decided how much he was willing to admit. “No. It's fine.”

Jim smiled. That told him enough. His hand drifted along McCoy's arm and back to the small of his back. “Now, what were you trying to show me?”

[mllemaenad]

It always strikes me as weird that there’s no point at which the Brotherhood and Minutemen automatically come into conflict that I can find. One would think that the Brotherhood’s methods of gathering supplies (basically racketeering) would automatically lead to issues with the Minutemen, whose job is to defend against such raiders. I know the game mechanics reason for this, but can you think of anything in-universe to explain it?

I think there are a few things going on here – some gameplay related, some thematically related. But to be honest I don't think it's always easy to separate those two things.

Point one - who's in charge?

If you follow Fallout 4's opening quests then you are the General of the Minutemen. That means that your Sole Survivor gets to make big important decisions like "do we go to war with this new group?" You do not lead the Brotherhood, Railroad or Institute (you may, of course, inherit control of the Institute at the end of the game, but that's after all these decisions take place) and consequently decisions about who your enemies are take place over your head. You can pick a side if two factions you belong to come into conflict ... but you can't ultimately change their politics.

There is no point in the story where you are forced to go to war with the Brotherhood as the General of the Minutemen ... but you absolutely can go to war with the Brotherhood as the General of the Minutemen.

So this is both a gameplay and narrative point: what does your Sole Survivor think of the Brotherhood of Steel? Maybe they are also a dedicated member of the Brotherhood, and have no problem with them "commandeering" supplies. Maybe you work with the Railroad, and their attitudes frighten you. Maybe you're a pure Minuteman character and just resent another group of raiders causing problems for your settlements.

Every other faction makes the decision of when to invoke "War never changes" for you. This one's on you.

Point two – who shot first?

Obviously, the Brotherhood of Steel does end up in forced conflict with the Railroad as part of the main quest. There's no way to make peace between them, no matter how many quests you've done for either faction.

But. Well. I mean – there's an obvious aggressor in this one. It's not like Desdemona wakes up one morning, finishes her Sugar Bombs and coffee and says "Hey, guys, given that we've just barely clawed our way back from extinction, doesn't picking a fight with a group of heavily armed thugs sound like a great idea?"

There are no Railroad quests that require you to directly attack the Brotherhood until after the Brotherhood tries to murder them. While Brotherhood and Railroad ideals are pretty clearly in conflict, the Railroad absolutely does not want to start another war. They're up to their eyeballs dealing with the Institute. The Brotherhood impose that conflict on them.

Why? Well, they tell you. The first reason is that the Brotherhood are intent on committing genocide, and they are aware that the Railroad's mission would require them to rescue and protect synths.

Even with their relatively small numbers, the Railroad is a constant threat to our operations. They've already proven to be resilient against superior forces, with a knack for disappearing when cornered. Worse still, they possess the capability to help synths flee the Institute. If we intend to end the synth menace, we need to plug the leaks. – Lancer Captain Kells Dialogue, Fallout 4

The other reason is because the Railroad has PAM, and the Brotherhood wants to steal her.

Our sources tell us that the Railroad has some sort of experimental or prototype robot in their headquarters. They're calling the "Predictive Analytic Machine," or "P.A.M." for short. Cute, huh? They use the robot for complex strategic calculations that are much more efficient than anything we can generate here. If you could use this holotape to decrypt the security on P.A.M.'s terminal, it will force the unit to return to the Prydwen. I'm certain we could put P.A.M.'s computing power to good use. Otherwise, destroy it. We wouldn't want it to fall into the Institute's hands. – Proctor Ingram Dialogue, Fallout 4

The conflict between the Brotherhood and Railroad occurs purely at the Brotherhood's instigation. While the Railroad doesn't like the Brotherhood they don't want to fight them unless they have to.

Which brings me back to the Minutemen. As an organisation, the Minutemen are pretty well indifferent to synths. Oh, they're one hundred percent opposed to the Institute sacking settlements with Gen 2s, or people being replaced by synths, or any other scenario where the people they've pledged to protect get hurt ... but there's no official policy on synths themselves.

Preston is broadly pro-freeing the synths because he's a good guy:

I never really thought about synths that way before, but it's hard to argue that they don't deserve freedom like everyone else. – Preston Garvey Dialogue, Fallout 4

But nothing about being involved with the Minutemen actually forces you to help a synth. So they are not on the Brotherhood's radar the way the Railroad are.

The Minutemen is also a pretty low tech organisation. Their signature weapon is the laser musket. Their big rebuilding quest, Old Guns, is about setting up some very old-school artillery. Nothing about that is going to make the Brotherhood start salivating and plotting to steal their stuff. Now, obviously that artillery can turn out to be very effective at dealing with the Prydwen if it comes to that, but that's a very Brotherhood mistake: they think shiny tech will protect them from superior numbers and rational tactics. They made the same error at HELIOS ONE.

So unlike the Railroad, the Minutemen are unlikely targets for Brotherhood aggression at this stage. They aren't forcing a conflict. But like the Railroad, the Minutemen start the game a hair's breadth from annihilation. Most of the game is spent rebuilding both their forces and their credibility. They clear raider strongholds and nests of feral ghouls. They're not much more likely to be actively pushing for an all-out-war than the Railroad.

Point Three - who the hell are these guys, anyway?

After all of that, I recognise there's still a problem, though. Because Feeding the Troops is still a pretty obnoxious quest and it does feel like a thing that would cause issues.

Fallout 4 does a lot with misinformation; appearance versus reality; what someone says and then what they do. I know I've brought it up before, but a big one is the difference between Diamond City and Goodneighbor. And one of the key points about that is that things change: Diamond City wasn't always run by the Institute; Goodneighbor wasn't always setting itself up as a haven for the lost. Things change. Bad things can improve, and good things can slip into evil.

Earlier games had a karma system associated with them: this is good, this is bad. Fallout 4 replaces this with companion opinions, which fits pretty well with its themes and ideas. It's not going to tell you which one is the good karma option. You've got to play the game and figure it out. And yes, sometimes the answer is "there's no good answer".

Two things about the Brotherhood: they arrive relatively late in the game, at the start of Act 2 ... and they were the good guys in Fallout 3. They were very explicitly the good karma option in Fallout 3. While, obviously, each game is going to pick up a bunch of new players who haven't played the older ones, it's also important to recognise that Fallout is a series, and the narrative continues from one game to the next.

By the time Fallout 4 starts all the various factions in the Commonwealth have been locked in conflict with the Institute for decades. Asking them to pivot and immediately start fighting these guys who turned up last Tuesday is a lot. While the Sole Survivor could never have heard of the Brotherhood of Steel, there's a really solid chance that you, the player, have heard of them. And you might make some assumptions, based on that.

They were the good guys, right? Okay, yes, kind of arseholes and a bit of a problem if you were from Underworld but ... they fought the Enclave! They defended Project Purity! They protected people from super mutants! It's a whole thing!

But. Well, there's clearly been a change in leadership since then. And they've specifically reintegrated the Outcasts, i.e. the anti-helping people Brotherhood faction.

Also, the Commonwealth is not the Capital Wasteland. The conflict there was Brotherhood-versus-Enclave and the Enclave was so very bad that virtually anyone could look heroic opposing them. The super mutants never coalesced into a coherent faction who wanted anything; they operated more like a plague. Simpler times. In the Commonwealth there are more factions, more differing ideals. The water needs purifying, sure, but if we could solve the political problems farming wouldn't be a major issue.

You see all this difficulty and ambivalence in the game's characters, too:

The Brotherhood. In Capital Wasteland, they really weren't bad. But now. – Deacon Dialogue, Fallout 4 Those Super Mutants are a threat to everyone in the whole Commonwealth. I'm glad to have the Brotherhood's help to take them out. – Preston Garvey Dialogue, Fallout 4 Long as the Brotherhood of Steel keeps the heavy artillery out of the city limits, they're welcome here. – Diamond City Security Dialogue, Fallout 4 Flying that ship into the heart of the Commonwealth. Mark my words, the Brotherhood's here to start a war. – Nick Valentine Dialogue, Fallout 4

Characters are aware that the Brotherhood did good in the past. They're concerned about the giant airship in their space. They're grateful when the Brotherhood does something that happens to be helpful, even if their reasons were selfish. The decision about what do about them is floating in the air, from the day they turn up.

So now I'm back to my first point. You're the General of the Minutemen. Odds are, defending the Commonwealth as a Minuteman was one of the very first pledges you made at the start of the game. And sure, you're visiting all the factions and doing their quests, because that's how these games work.

Cool. So – I mean, they've asked you to bully and steal from the farmers you swore to protect. If you take your non-human companions to the Prydwen they will say the most horrible things about them. They've sent you to murder your friend Danse, even though he hasn't done anything and it's not like he can choose to not be a synth. They're powering up this really scary robot they can use to terrorise people. They're sending you to slaughter the Railroad, unprovoked, because they want their robot. At what point have you had enough? At what point do you go "Ohhhhh. This is the bad karma faction"?

There's a warning, right at the beginning of their quest line, from Haylen:

Field Scribe Haylen, personal log entry 324A. I'm starting to wonder if joining the Brotherhood of Steel was a good choice. I originally signed up seeking protection and comradeship but I'm worried that I've traded away a bit of my humanity in the process. The Brotherhood's message of hope for the future is idealistic and noble but their methods leave a lot to be desired. The leadership seems especially misguided. Instead of diplomacy, they wield violent confrontation to exert control. Despite all that, I've been successfully avoiding the fighting by following the career path of a field scribe. I suppose only time will tell how long I can stand the sight of spilled blood over my own moral fiber. – Scribe Haylen's Personal Log, Fallout 4

If you can recognise some foreshadowing, you can see where this is going.

I think the game doesn't force you to fight the Brotherhood with the Minutemen because you are the General of the Minutemen. It doesn't have karma options, it asks you to review the situation and make a decision what to do. You can fight the Brotherhood, if you choose to. In fact, you kind of swore that you would.

Yeah, they're running a protection racket. What are you going to do about it?

And I think that's very in line with the sort of story Fallout 4 wants to tell.

[bucklway]

how mello & near fail as proper antagonists from the perspective of a mello & near fan

the most interesting thing a character can do in a story is surprise you. to be caught off guard by a character, you need to already have an idea of who they might be.

for example, if a character is introduced to an audience as the greatest detective the world has ever known, someone who’s intelligent & calculated, the viewer might be shocked when that character makes many wild & risky decisions. it might catch someone off guard to hear that character say something like “i had to test this just in case, i never thought it would actually work..”

it’s such a small piece of information but it tells us SO much about the mystery of L Lawliet. L is known by many as the greatest detective, but his first true introduction to us, the audience, is his boldness, his capacity to take risks. his genius is so great that a shot in the dark for him results in a bullseye.

to introduce a character through other characters’ opinions of them is my favourite way to challenge the viewer’s expectations in a story. i think to be curious is to be engaged, a story should be setting you up with a million questions that are compelling enough to keep you interested bc you know they will be answered eventually.

it’s not very interesting when you know everything about the series’ antagonist right off the bat.

L as an antagonist is so compelling bc he’s shrouded in mystery, not only is light desperate to know his true identity & true feelings, but we are as well. this is where near & mello fundamentally fail as proper antagonists, every part of their characters work for me aside from the way in which information is learned about them. it’s such a harsh contrast from the genius that is L, it’s insulting to the viewers who are reading/watching bc they actually care about this story & its characters.

so why is mello and nears introduction so bad? simple, we receive too much information.

the scene in which they appear for the first time is literally set in the place where they live, talking to the man who is raising them, it’s insanely personal. compare it to how we meet L for the first time: through a computer screen, held by a man who’s identity is hidden by a mask & all we see on that computer is the letter L. sorichiro tells us he’s the greatest detective but no one knows his true identity. it tells you all you need to know about him at that point in the story, L is a smart detective who is overly cautious about revealing his identity. we aren’t told why he’s overly cautious or who the man is holding the computer but it’s enough to get us thinking.

this is the amount of information we get through mello & near’s introduction: their caretaker is named roger, he works at wammys house (the orphanage watari founded, which is also information that was revealed in the last episode) where mello & near live. roger reveals that L is dead, meaning that mello & near have some kind of connection to L. mello is devastated at the news but it’s quickly revealed that this devastation is most likely the cause of frustration that L can’t “pick one of them” what does that mean? don’t worry, this scene makes it very clear. mello & near were raised to be great detectives, one of them was meant to be picked so they could carry on his legacy but he hadn’t chosen one yet. near is cold, seemingly emotionless & fixated on solving puzzles. mello is loud, aggressive & overly emotional. roger suggests that they could work together on the kira case, near seems up for it but mello is enraged. he tells roger “you know i don’t get along with near.” which is such a funny way to establish something about a character, having them explain a fact about themselves to someone who already knows it. mello reveals some deeper insecurities about not being better than near & he runs away from home. near is officially the new L, working to defeat kira.

..so that’s way too much information, right?

that scene is like.. if in episode 11, when misa is being introduced thru the sakura TV tapes, we were also seeing misa’s perspective, watching her every move & hearing all of her opinions. the introduction of misa is interesting because the audience isn’t given the information that there are 2 notebooks yet, we are meant to assume that light is the one doing all of this even if it doesn’t seem like something he’d do.

mello & near fail as proper antagonists bc the narrative doesn’t take them seriously & doesn’t give them the time they need to establish themselves as threats.

i truly do think near & mello could have been amazing, i have my own ideas for how i would’ve personally taken the story after L’s death but this post is already too long lol!

[lxmelle]

The hidden sides to Gojo & Geto.

The impression I get is that, more than any other character in the series (next to Geto maybe), Gojo had a hidden side to him that he never showed anyone.

And that Geto came the closest to knowing this side to him, just as how Gojo knew a part of Geto that others didn’t.

I personally think that this was why Gojo’s complete and unconditional acceptance of Geto at the point of his death was so moving to Geto. Just as Geto’s complete and unwavering trust in his humanity and monstrosity was precious to Gojo.

They both didn’t need anyone else to understand them. Or at least resigned themselves to that isolated fate a long time ago - for a while, also from each other. Geto said: I’m not a child, I don’t need everyone to understand. And Gojo said: You can’t ask flowers to understand me.

They were so similar in a sense. And I think as time passed and certainly at the end of their lives, they fully realised that the other person was “their special person”. It was finally clear and communicated.

Geto was someone who just didn’t realise how important he was to anyone. He hid his own desires and perhaps had long denied the need for Gojo Satoru in his life. He wore the kesa out of his loneliness and the desire to manifest the power how best friend had - taking him with him (in a safe way without compromising Gojo himself) on his path... his “family” didn’t know the side to him that he only showed Gojo. Including his selfishness and possessiveness. The only person he ever forced his will upon by leaving him behind. The person he could rely on actually rely on as a partner and counterpart. As an equal. They were the strongest even if they were apart.

I’ve thought long and hard about what would make someone so moved… and it dawned on me that Geto never really opened his complete self to anyone but Gojo. He thought they fought and he resigned himself to his own death at the end of his road. So when Gojo showed him acceptance at that very end, and showed him that he was needed at the end of Gojo’s own - that evoked that very response we saw. Hearing again that Geto had a truly special presence in Gojo, brought him to tears.

So I guess this was why they could understand each other. Both knowing what strength and responsibility were, understanding grief, sacrifice and the solitude/loneliness it brought. I think it was their VAs who commented on this too, that they just could communicate with each other in ways that others couldn’t.

Further, Gojo was a person who wielded such strength & weight of responsibility that others were like mere flowers to him. This was how he conceptualised it and it made the gap bigger when he ascended / awakened / “enlightened”.

This was the distance “between him & others” described by Gege. With the ability to make huge waves, he was simply on a different level to everyone.

His human (heart) had a guide & the torch was held by Geto. It kept him warm even when he could have gotten colder & colder with power.

His warmth complemented his colder side & just like his personality was his strength & weakness: he could ardently persevere with his dream that was an extension of his 親友 friend & love everyone… not let others be lonely, etc. but also be objective & calculating as needed.

The secret side of him was also what led him to “humanly” remain so lovingly & desperately attached, that kept Geto’s body all to himself, and “inhumanely” not cremate him because he was selfish.

Just like how love was a curse...

Geto (love) was his only weakness.

And for Geto, his love for everyone was his weakness too. His love for Gojo led him down that self-sacrificing path too.

[cels-not-so-secret-love-affair]

trading voices (remus & regulus - muggle au)

a/n: i like to think regulus and remus would get on. this is an exploration of how that might look! i, unfortunately, do not know much bsl (although i should probably get on it, it would be useful). so if you have experience signing, i welcome any and all comments you might have on my presentation of it here!

You can sign?

Regulus’ pale hands move quickly, imbued with curiosity. His eyes are bright and calculating, turning his attention to his brother’s new boyfriend properly for the first time and dissecting him with his gaze.

Yes. Sirius didn’t tell you?

No, never. Are you deaf?

Sort of. Not completely. It’s called sensorineural hearing loss.

Remus finger spells the name, long, scarred fingers settling into each letter with careful and deliberate intention. He makes a face as he does so, and then smiles. Regulus watches his eyes crease up and notes his crooked teeth and decides he quite likes this smile. He’s smiling because he means it.

Long name! I had an accident, when I was younger. It damaged part of my ear. I wear hearing aids because of it, and I also learnt to sign. I don’t get to use it very much though. Only with my mum.

Wow. I had no idea.

Sirius told me you about you. I was pleased when he said you used BSL. Needed another conversation partner - was worried I was getting a bit rusty.

This, to Regulus, is a ludicrous idea. Watching Remus, the way he moves, the fluidity of his gestures and the expressions he makes alongside them - Regulus would have thought communicating like this came about as naturally as breathing. It’s like he walked out of the womb with all this language, all this life to him. It’s sort of magnetic, in a quiet, subtle type of way.

Did my brother tell you about why I sign?

A little. I don’t think he did a very good job explaining it, but he tried.

Right. Sometimes, the words just won’t form in my mouth. They get stuck. I can’t explain it very well myself. Speaking is too much a lot of the time. And then I met this kid, called Evan, and he had a sister, called Pandora, and she taught me how to sign. I found my voice like that.

I’m glad. From what I’ve seen, you have a lot to say.

What do you mean?

Remus grins at him a second time, eyes alight with mischief.

When you were with Sirius. I don’t know what he said, but it must have been stupid. You swore at him when he turned his back. Motherfucker!

He imitates Regulus’ expression, rolling his eyes and gritting his teeth in annoyance as he signs the insult. Then, the act dissolves, and he breaks back into that well-worn smile of his, evidently very much amused. Regulus shrugs matter-of-factly.

It was the only good description I could think of.

I like you.

Insulting your boyfriend is what gets me into your good graces? Strange.

I love him, but he really can be a wanker sometimes.

[mirpkechi]

hai chat >< here's the finished thingy <3

yes i still need to lacquer . . . shhh that's not important ><

rambles under the cut !!

i think this was really fun ngl . . . the only thing is that i need to seal it [i'll get some spray can lids and paint / seal them with the various things,, so lacquer and varnish just to test how the colours are affected], which i'll do on friday because it needs a few days to cure . . . ><

very very fun lil mini project !!

notes for people who wanna do this ?!

☆ i did this on a calculator case,, but you can do these steps on pretty much any plastic surface

☆ sand down imperfections and rough up the surface with about 120 grit sandpaper

☆ prime using spray primer [ideally 2 - 3 coats]

☆ sand using 400 grit paper to remove any imperfections

☆ you can skip this if you want,, but spraying a base coat of white does help when painting [you can also use normal acrylic paints as a base but they kinda fuck it up]

☆ avoid Shitty Kids Paints. buy shitty /acrylic/ paints, not ready mix, because they will make your life much easier [you do NOT wanna be painting 20 layers of one colour, it Sucks]

☆ seal it !! make sure you do this so that the paint doesnt chip [you can use stuff like mod podge, etc etc, but test it out on a separate non-porous surface + paint using the same paints and seal so you know what happens [best case it turns out fine, worst case Everything fucks up]

uh ramble over. reblog pls. have a lovely day :3

[missmagooglie]

So I just reblogged a very thoughtful Hen and Karen character meta. And it got me thinking about Hen's arc this season. And the teasers have all kind of stressed Gerrard as being a central plot focus for Buck, stressing that Hen has bigger concerns at home and she has to toe the line with Gerrard so she doesn't lose Mara for good, but here's the thing. Here's the thing. I think THAT is the point of Gerrard. Hen has to find a way to serve under this odious man in a way that will prove she can handle the political pressures of leadership after failing to do so during her last stint as interim captain of the 118.

This got long, so under a cut it goes.

If you look at Hen across the past few seasons, and in particular if you look at last season, one of Hen's character traits that tends to cause her the most friction is that she does not compromise when she thinks (or knows) she's right. And this has historically been a huge source of strength for her. It's what allowed her to withstand Gerrard's captaincy the first time around. It's a huge part of what makes her an exemplary firefighter and paramedic.

It has also, in season 7 especially, been a huge hurdle for her when it comes to leadership. Hen is smart, she is driven, she is confident in herself and her decisions, and she absolutely does not know how to take "no" for an answer. And not once but TWICE in season 7, we saw Hen's conviction in her own assessment get her into trouble. The first was with Councilwoman Ortiz' son. As a paramedic, she absolutely made the right call. She correctly identified his inebriated state, and reallocated on site resources when he was belligerent toward Chimney and offered clear refusal of care. What Hen didn't do was think beyond the immediate facts of the scene and consider ways to limit liability if her assessment was wrong or there were facts she was unaware of (which, spoiler alert, there were. Of both the medical and political variety).

When Hen was being investigated, she did not respond the way an LAFD captain should have. She reacted personally, defensively. She correctly identified that the source of her trouble was political rather than personal, but she still defended herself on a personal basis rather than working with Chief Simpson to find a way to appease the grieving Councilwoman. She reacted as an individual facing a personal attack rather than a leader navigating a sticky political situation, and in the process made the investigation about her (lack of) wrongdoing. She thought that being vindicated would mark the end of her troubles, but instead she ended up making herself a target for a woman looking to blame someone for her grief. A savvy captain would have found a way to deflect attention and smooth things over with the Councilwoman to avoid long term repercussions with a powerful member of the city government, even if that meant accepting a carefully calculated token acknowledgement of blame (perhaps a vague and unspecified blame of the department overall rather than a specific individual, to reduce opportunities for reprisal) to appease the Councilwoman's pride.

Then, even after she was cleared of wrongdoing and reinstated within the span of a single shift, Hen was motivated BOTH by her love and loyalty to Bobby and Athena, but ALSO her own need to prove herself and her own instincts correct when she decides that instead of reporting back to the station to resume her post she was instead going to go against orders to comandeer a helicopter and fly into a hurricane well out of LAFD jurisdiction to try and rescue a cruise ship of unconfirmed status. And she did this with three of her direct reports in tow. Did she ask them to be there? Did she order them to follow her into that helicopter? No. But given that she was technically their commanding officer at the time, their actions were technically her responsibility.

Now again, Hen felt vindicated by the fact that she was RIGHT, the Uno was in dire distress, her blatant insubordination did save lives. But while her actions showed extraordinary individual heroism, they did NOT show the sort of steady, level-headed leadership Hen would need to earn a permanent promotion to Captain. She showed a willingness to do whatever needed to be done to solve the problem in front of her, but not an ability to think beyond the current problem and consider how to best serve the LAFD beyond the current emergency.

So how does all that relate to Gerrard? Well, first of all Hen made herself all but unpromotable in the eyes of Chief Simpson and undoubtedly the rest of the LADF brass, creating a leadership vacuum when Bobby retired unexpectedly. That gives the OPPORTUNITY for Gerrard to step in. But why Gerrard, specifically? Why not some new jackass to terrorize the 118?

Because everything Hen did to survive the first time she served under Gerrard leaned on her value as an individual. In order to grow into the leader the 118 needs, she'll have to survive Gerrard this go-round using completely different methods. And to make absolutely sure she experiences that growth, the show has conveniently given Hen PERSONAL STAKES that render her old methods of survival unusable. Everything Hen did to prove herself in the past involved bucking Gerrard's leadership, showing how capable she was even if it meant undermining him. Now, with Mara on the line, Hen has no choice but to toe the line and keep her nose clean. So how is she going to change tactics and work WITHIN the system? How is she going to show that she can follow regulations and orders she disagrees with, without sacrificing her dedication to doing her job to the utmost of her ability? How is Hen going to prove that she can make decisions that benefit the station and the department long-term while still giving the problem in front of her everything she's got? How can she balance the right thing to do RIGHT NOW with doing what's needed to serve the bigger picture?

If Hen meets Gerrard head-on with defiance and disdain, it will be proof that she has not grown in the intervening years any more than he has. Instead, Gerrard is going to be a test of Hen's ability to show genuine and meaningful leadership without recklessly flouting orders she may not agree with in favor of her own priorities.

Or at least, that's my hope.

[bubble-popping]

day 39 with more (but not as much) of the recent drunz au. i jumped around a lot with what I wrote for the au so expect continuity to fall off pretty soon XD

Two days would pass before Punz decided to find out exactly that. Luckily, no one interrupted their travels during that time, and at the end of the day they uncovered a well-hidden cave to spend the night. Dream made a fire for warmth and to heat some of the meat he'd 'borrowed' in a village they passed through. (Punz tried to reason they could just pay for it, that stealing would cause unwanted attention, but Dream was insistent on it. Some excuse of 'not owing Punz anything' as he discretely sneaked a cut from the stall while the butcher was distracted with a customer.)

The flames flickered, casting long shadows on the stone wall and dancing across Dream's high cheekbones, catching in the golden waves of his hair.

"I want to renegotiate the terms," Punz said over the sizzle of cooking meat. They watched Dream pause, green eyes flicking to meet theirs. Bright and pinning like the glint of a dagger.

"What terms? You have a very simple job."

"But for how long? Do you expect me to just follow you around forever?"

"For as long as I pay you, yes."

Now came the part where Dream's lack of blinking really unnerved them. Devoid of emotion, cold and calculating. Daring Punz to argue, and already forming rebuttals to anything they could possibly say.

"Where are we headed, Dream?"

"North, I told you that."

"Towards what?"

"That doesn't matter. I'll no longer need your services once we get close."

"And how long is that gonna take?"

"I dunno. Could take weeks, could take months." Finally, Dream looked away to tend to the steak. Punz closed their eyes, felt them sting as the tears ducts struggled to moisten them.

"If you're having second thoughts, you're more than welcome to leave. I'm sure I could find someone else."

And ruin their carefully constructed reputation? Not a chance. Punz had never failed a mission. Giving up was just as bad, worse even.

"Would you offer them the same kind of payment?"

"Naturally. Why do you think I steal?"

The image of Dream giving himself away to another was... it had something akin to jealousy flaring in their chest, like a needle worming around in their heart. They thought they'd gotten control over these basic canine tendencies...

"Why are you being hunted?" They asked to change the topic.

"Why do you care all of the sudden? You take any client, regardless of their background. Why does it matter now?"

"Call me curious." Punz shrugged.

Dream smirked with a bit of a laugh, tilting his head lazily to the side. "I know you're a wolf and all, but curiosity does kill. Especially in your line of work."

"Fair," Punz chuckled humorlessly, "that's fair."

"Now, if you're done with your interrogation, the food is done." Dream handed them a plate. Fresh steam wafted off the meat and made their stomach growl.

Soon enough, both plates were empty, the fire was extinguished, and the pair settled into their unspoken sleeping arrangement. Since the night of the payment, and Punz saw how Dream shivered on his own, they mutually decided cuddling was the best position, specifically with Dream's back to their chest and their arms around his torso. Or at least, Punz decided it and Dream didn't complain or push them away, which was about as good they supposed.

[icryyoumercy]

called two different hospitals about a bill that really shouldn't have ended up with me, emailed disability services to ask about the current state of my case, and in the process of sorting out paperwork for taxes also ended up emailing my employer about the level of my retirement fund

many things have been done and i am proud of myself

[ghost-of-you]

Happy 11 years, 5 Seconds of Summer!

[nobodysdaydreams]

Giving a complicated tragic childhood backstory to your favorite character is all fun and games, until you realize you need to account for how old all the other adult characters would have been at the time and realize that scenes that would work perfectly if one character was twenty three and the other was fourteen stop working when you need other characters who are played by adult actors clearly younger than they are to be in college at the same time so your story beats line up thematically.