I still can’t get over the parallels between Whizzer and Trina. God, between the outfit changes whenever they become more like each other, the few yet powerful lines that they sing together and the way their personalities flip; Trina becoming more strong willed and Whizzer becoming more sweet and demure. It amazes me still.
It’s who you are, baby girl. You see the beauty in everything and everyone, no matter where you go. That part of you is never gonna change. And I won’t let it. I don’t need you to protect me. Tough. I think I’m gonna stay on the job a little while longer. Yeah? Mm-hmm. How much longer?Every day of my life.
also in the ds9 with the imagination aliens, jadzia is like “wow, ur fantasy version of me is rlly submissive jullybean is that what ur into?” and he’s like “what?! no way lol hahaha maybe a little”…….that’s what i’ve been saying ALL ALONG we all wish lieutenant julian subatoi bashir md would have had the good sense at the tender age of 26 to be a doe-eyed ingenue but unfortunately for all of us he’s just ur typical tumblr dom taking vids of himself whippin his bed w a belt while wearing another belt posting it 2 his real-ass public insta w his face in the pic tagged like
like I WISH IT WEREN’T SO but its so, so. what can you do. this is best ive felt since my “bashir likes feet” headcanon turned out to actually have been written into the show. god bless star trek deep space nine.
Prompt: *Aaron on the phone* "I know this is out of t-the blue b-but I think something bad has happened to me and I don't want to go before letting you know how much I love you.
“What are you…Aaron?” For a minute he expects him to laugh and tell him it’s a wind up but then he hears a horrific wet coughing sound over the phone and he’s on his feet and running out of the pub before he can think. “Where are you?”
“I’m on my way right? Two minutes, Aaron!” He should hang up, call an ambulance or something because he knows, Aaron’s in trouble, but he can’t because he can’t leave him. He spots Kerry outside the salon. “Kerry! Call an ambulance. It’s Aaron. Scrapyard. Hurry! You hear that, Aaron. Help’s coming.”
“I-I love you. Jus’ wan’ you to know.”
“I know, of course I know.” He’s running as fast as he can, legs burning. “Aaron! Stay with me.”
Deep in the wintry parts of our minds, we know that there is no such thing as a work-free transformation. We know that we will have to burn to the ground in one way or another, and then sit right in the ashes of who we once thought we were and go on from there.