#this ended up

[schrodingersregret]

Is Frank Langdon your favorite character? If so, why? I’m genuinely curious (:

Langdon and Mohan are my favorites! This is such a fun question, actually, because it honestly wasn't until recently that I started considering Langdon one of my favorite characters from the show. I always encourage curiosity, so I will absolutely explain why.

I have a preference, in a lot of the shows that I consume or enjoy, for characters that fuck up, recognize that, and change. Characters who have their personal code and learn when to change and when to put their foot down. Also, extreme competency and intelligence tend to play roles in that.

Langdon's story in The Pitt is one of the ones that interests me the most because he screwed up so damn bad. He was a gigantic asshole to Santos. He was terrible to Robby. He committed felonies. He hurt people.

We also get told through other people that he's kind of weird today. We see that he's friendly with a lot of the staff, that he's got a good relationship with his coworkers. He's damn good at his job, he was Robby's star resident, he has a wife, two kids, he's hopeful for a fellowship where he gets to teach, and he fucks it.

We know he's better than the way he behaved in September, but that doesn't change what he did. So now we're ten months down the line after he's gone off, after he's worked to heal from why he acted the way he did, from his substance use, had space away from the external pressures we know he was dealing with from his job, and he's put back into this space where he has to apologize because he fucked up and show that he's changed.

The psychological aspects of him are very intriguing to me. I find it interesting that for someone that could very easily be a stereotype of an unchanging stubborn hot headed person, he isn't. We know he was stumbling under the weight of a lot of expectations. We see him unsure quite a few times, deferring praise. He gets nervous, he listens, he checks.

I find that all incredibly compelling in a character. We will never know who Langdon was before he developed an SUD, so we keep getting these clips of the guy that became buddies with Collins and Dana and Princess and Robby. All we know is him on unsteady ground, from active addiction to still in his first year of recovery, trying to reconcile "I was an asshole" with his own views on himself. I like that.

There's also the bonus of the chronic pain aspect of him, which I personally relate to and will usually get a good pull from me. And like I said, I'm a sucker for a very competent character that's cocky about it and has the skills to back it up, much to the annoyance of everyone around.

[strapons-and-sunshine]

Subs are lovely and cute and all but do you ever find that they rely emotionally on you too much?? also curious about the little things that subs have done for you that make you really appreciate them.

I wouldn’t say I’ve ever had a sub rely on me too much emotionally personally, but there is a risk of that in any relationship D/s or vanilla on either side. I think it’s important for any partner, but Dommes/Doms especially, to support their significant other/sub emotionally but also draw clear boundaries and help them learn ways to cope independently if that’s something they struggle with. As intoxicating as the idea of being someone’s whole world and holding them up can be, it’s not healthy long term and if you’re in that position both parties should be asking themselves what needs to happen to make the emotional labor equal. Sometimes someone will be in a low and need a lot of support! And that is okay! But personal growth independent of the relationship is always worth pushing for.

As for little things subs have done for me that make me really appreciate them I’d say just letting themselves be vulnerable is one of the things I appreciate most, but my bf/sub definitely does things all the time. He’s just an amazing person and very thoughtful. Bringing me/making me food is probably his most common move and it’s an absolute favorite. Recently he took my dog to a couple vet appointments so I didn’t have to take off from work/stay super late. Granted these are more bf things than sub things but honestly there’s no reason they can’t be one in the same 🥰

[lovelyblupjeans]

Okay but Rainer sending invitations to Fitzroy via skeleton becomes like a normal occurrence and Fitzroy becomes used to it and actually grows kind of fond of the little messages and such from the villain. He begins sending back pieces of candy or even his own messages. One day he opens the door to find Rainer herself there in place of one of her pets. He figures it must be important, "Is something wrong?"

"no, why do you ask?" She tilts her head.

"no reason," he says, "it's just- you usually just send your,uh, skeletons."

"this was a little to important to just be sent in a letter," She said, nervously fidgeting, "I- Fitz- Will you go out with me?"

Fitzroy goes to correct her on his name, but for some reason he doesn't feel the need to. Then the question catches up to him and his moth opens and closes, no noise coming out for several moments.

Rainer backtracks, "You don't have to- sorry-"

"no, no," Fitzroy finally finds his voice again and cuts off her anxious rambling, "That would actually be quite nice."

[angelfccdie]

@vitiicsus replied to your post “[[MOR] you know, personally i kinda feel like maybe whis is actually...”

honestly super overestimates vegeta's ability to give a shit about certain life aspects. they treat him like he's always been a normal person underneath being violent when he wasnt and never will be. so maybe take it with a grain of salt in regards to bra.

i have to admit i’d kinda wondered about that. it is quite a. 180 from what i remember of him in z. i also have to confess i’m a little shaky on vegeta’s character in general, and that held true even before super and its. dubious characterizations, so i’m really not the best at analyzing him ehe ;; 

honestly that probably fits in better with my headcanon/analysis thing here. i think whis probably guesses that goku isn’t going to change his mind, but vegeta is quite a bit different than him, and doesn’t hold the same... ideals about what’s important to him

[elxfi-archived]

Send ❣️ for a kiss that conveys an emotion

Send to get a kiss from my muse!

(Emotion- Relief)   

   A tightening on her throat, constricting and painful. She feels it in this black space. Chiyo can’t see a face, but the sensation is so familiar and haunting. Everything hurts, just like it did back then. Flesh that had healed years ago burns as if fresh wounds have been inflicted.     Then she hears his voice, one she hasn’t heard in so long, whispering vulgarities at her, saying hideous things that always linger in the back of her mind. And just as hands tighten around her neck…     Chiyo jolts awake, eyes wide and teary, breathing heavily in hysterics. Her surroundings aren’t immediately familiar with blurred vision. They’re desolate and dark, but the presence next to her has an aura that’s recognizable to her.     Starrk stares at her, confusion and concern both present on his normally nonchalant features. Despite her better judgement, Chiyo quickly clings to him, shaky arms hooking around his neck. He’s a beacon of security in her fragile state. Relief quickly washes over her the longer she holds onto him.      ❝Thank goodness it’s you and not….❞ she trails off, unable to finish. But her hands move to hold either side of his face, as if this contact is what she needs to validate that he’s really here. Without realizing it, Chiyo’s face is moving closer to his own, only halting when her lips are pressed against his. Her kiss is soft, nothing more than full lips brushing lightly over his own.      He hasn’t pushed her away, but Chiyo quickly jolts back, the magnitude of what she’s just done consuming her. Her eyes are downcast, unable to look at the arrancar.                               ❝I-I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I did that…❞

[bodiedhorror]

man I just..... cannot bring myself to care about doyle? like as a character he's just. there. the only good thing he did was die. and then there's a billion people constantly on my dash just screaming about defending him from the mean fans but like.... who cares. he's done nothing. he has the personality of a saltine.

[magictavern]

But can you imagine Wendy, the girl who lived and breathed the stories of heroes-but only ever met them and once, finally deciding what she was going to do. She herself can be a hero, just like she wrote about in her stories.

She goes about it round about of course. First she applies for colleges, basing her choices around location. And then one day it arrives; an acceptance letter for a college in New York City. When she gets it she is giddy for over an hour, knowing that her brush with the stars can continue. She hugs her pillow (a limited edition one that was some promo for an movie based on the life of an Avenger), and begins to plan even further.

It is fall when she arrives in NYC. At first she merely struggles to fit into the flow of day to day life. She is a creative writing major and while she can write, her deadlines are often thrown out the window as she trains for becoming a superhero. The small rock climbing gym around the corner becomes her second home and she tries to know every customer or employee there, slowly branching out from her previously sheltered nature.

She wishes she had excelled more in gym in high school. Her hands were meant to scribble out notes or type up epics on her computer, not scramble up and down the walls of the gym or slowly-steadily lift weights. But both her hands and herself work on, until she can do things that she didn’t think she could. And yet she still lacks a certain self discipline, a certain way of forcing herself to go out. If she does not want to she does not.

Around her, the whole world happens. Over her head are heroes and apocalypses (she does live in NYC after all), and surrounding her on the street are ordinary people, whose hustle and bustle is just as intriguing as fights in the sky. Wendy passes her classes, not excelling, but not failing either, falling in a comfortable middle ground that allows her to do as she pleases. And she still writes her stories, deeply personal ones-where she is the hero that saves the day, and then even silly ones, based off of things she hears as she wanders the streets, trying to learn the city like the palm of her hand. And some of the stories she does share, some of the stories people like. In fact, people REALLY like her stories and in her online community she meets Kamala, someone who shares her passion and ideals and the two occasionally talk, although mostly just to swap gossip and rumors about their faves.

When the Terrigen Mists descend, Wendy is unaffected. She shrugs and continues on, training for the day she will deem herself ready. Kamala talks to her less and less, due to some unknown responsibility. Wendy doesn’t mind. Much.

And finally that day comes, when she decides to go out and do something. She isn’t sure how to do what she wants to do, but her roommate showed her how to use a police scanner and where to buy portable ones and Wendy does that. She wishes she could show her parents that she was actually doing something-but she knows what a mistake that would be.

So that night she climbs to the roof of her apartment, in a imperfect costume she made on her own, equipped with only her boots, the portable radio, and her bike (which sits on the pavement bellow) and she looks at the city. She had wanted to be a hero so much. She had never thought about why, she just wanted to be. And on that rooftop, with the lights glittering far above, and the smell of pizza from the shop across the street wafting up, she knew why.

She wanted to inspire. She wanted to help a kid through their darkest days as her heroes had helped her. She knew it was a long way till there, and that she needed to start something, and keep going and then maybe she could. So when the scanner finally went off (“Minor villian threatening dog walker on Park Ave”) she scrambled down the ladder on the side of her building, and hopped on her bike. She rode into the orange tinted night and dreamed of creating dreams.