#( HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO TALK TO EVERYONE ELSE )

[rcmclachlan]

8x06 fix-it fic: Amnion

Buck doesn't bounce back from Tommy the way he did with all his other breakups for reasons he can't articulate or even look at. He thinks of how long it took him to recover from Abby, but even that felt different, because he'd had hope carrying him through most of it. He doesn't have that now.

The worst part is it's bringing everyone else down. It's starting to affect the job, and he can't take any more of Bobby's pity dinner invites or the kid gloves Eddie handles him with. Then one day, Chimney (in an attempt to lighten the mood) asks Buck if he's pregnant, and it awakens some primordial rage in Buck that he never knew he possessed and damn near rips off Chimney's head about it.

But once the blood levels in his adrenaline start rising and he calms down, he starts thinking about it. Before he knows it he's thinking about it day and night, and now that's starting to affect the job more than his heartbreak had been.

Then one night Maddie invites him over to watch trash TV and eat junk food until they can't feel feelings anymore, but instead of the patented Maddie Hug he's expecting, she hands him a First Response test stick the second he walks in the door.

Five minutes later, he comes out of the bathroom pale-faced and dripping tears because there are two lines in the test result window, and Maddie leads him over to the couch where they curl up and cry together. Just like the old days.

Maddie asks if he's going to tell Tommy, but there's no judgment in her voice, like she's behind him no matter what he decides, and Buck tries to make her laugh when he says, "How do you know it's his? I could've been living it up for the last month. New person almost every night. Exploring myself."

She just gives him a Look. Also patented.

Under the weight of her scrutiny, Buck thinks about Tommy's face before he left the loft that night and how ''Buck'' looked and sounded so wrong coming from him. Like the shape of it was so painful he could barely move his mouth around it.

Finally, he shakes his head. His eyes well up with more tears, which feels impossible, because the human body can't possibly produce this much liquid. He's going to drown them both. "I thought... I thought we had a future, Maddie. I really did. I guess I still get one... but only with part of him."

A couple of months pass and Buck's entire world shifts. The 118 have rallied around him in a way that almost feels like they're closing ranks to every other firehouse. Eddie becomes especially protective and devises a 5000-point care plan that makes him twitch if Buck so much as thinks about deviating from it, but he also keeps telling Buck that he needs to tell Tommy about the pregnancy.

"If only to get his family history," Eddie says reasonably, but there's something pleading in his voice every time, like there's so much more under the surface that he's trying to keep under wraps. Like there's more about this that he thinks Tommy should know.

Chimney's in the middle of explaining why he's stealing the cool uncle crown from Buck and sitting pretty on the throne when Buck asks him about it.

"Is there something about Tommy that no one's telling me?"

It trips Chimney up. Literally. He just barely catches himself from going headfirst into the kitchen counter.

Buck's heart starts pounding. "Chim, does he know?"

"No," Chimney says, firm and almost a little offended. "We promised you we wouldn't say anything. But Buck... you should tell him. You should talk to him."

Part of him wants to whip his phone out right then and there and dial Tommy's number. He could do what he did the first time: ask to meet somewhere and laugh about bad coffee and plead his case for a second chance. He could reach across the table for his hand, but this time, he'd stand up and walk over to Tommy and place it on his belly. "I don't care about firsts or lasts," he'd say. "I care about only's. And you're the only one I want."

But the other part of him, still licking its wounds, hormones in flux and forcing organs to shift and bend as it makes room for the thing he and Tommy made together, bares its teeth and snaps, "He made it very clear that he had no interest in hearing what I had to say."

Chimney never brings it up again.

Meanwhile, Hen goes a little overboard with forcing him to undergo random physicals—she pops out of the shadows twice a day to ambush him with the blood pressure machine, and he keeps threatening to avoid rooms that have doors—but he loves it. His body is a complete stranger to him for the first time in a long time, but the changes he's experiencing are interesting and he's having a blast cataloging every new one. He and Hen have a spreadsheet with like fifty tabs, and she helps him navigate every test his actual OBGYN sets him up for.

He's over her house at least once a week, although pregnancy talk at the dinner table is verboten.

"If one of you says the word 'amniocentesis' one more time, I will start a food fight," Karen had said, finally putting her foot down. Across the table, Denny perked up.

As much as he hesitates to even think the Q-word, it's a pretty quiet pregnancy. The cravings are kind of wild, though, and he goes most of his first trimester feeling like he's going to die if he can't eat rice krispie treats with cottage cheese. Every time Bobby sees him cracking open another container of Hood, it looks like he's seriously reconsidering sobriety.

But as incredible as they are about the pregnancy, they're all tiptoeing around the other elephant in the room: when Buck is going to stop working scenes. He and Bobby have a series of discussions that satisfies neither of them and resolves nothing, and it builds to a big blow-out that ends when Bobby tearfully begs Buck to stop risking his own life and the life of Bobby's grandkid.

After that, it's like some stone thing in him dissolves into sand and he finally eases back a bit in his fifth month. He doesn't put up a fight when Bobby orders him to only handle the winch or stick with hose duty, and if he stays a little closer to the engine because he gets winded so easily these days, no one comments on it.

In his sixth month, the inevitable happens: there's a call out at Palos Verdes and it's all hands on deck, which means the 217 is there too. At first he thinks he might make it through without running into Tommy at all, but he turns a corner and—there he is. Smudged with mud and looking like a drowned rat because of the downpours, but in his turnouts he's big and capable and, for a second, he's walking into First Presbyterian and apologizing for missing the ceremony.

But the memory is easily wrestled back into the past the second Tommy's gaze fixes on Buck's belly.

Buck wants to stage a retreat that would make the Allies at Dunkirk stand up and applaud. He wants to throw his arms open so Tommy can get a better look at it, say something cool and mean, like, "Did you know that INNOTEX makes turnouts for carriers these days? Pretty progressive of them, if you ask me."

He wants to be weak and ask if Tommy will spare him a hug. Just one. Nothing greedy. Just—a moment to soak in his warmth, to inhale the smell of his skin. Enough to carry him through the rest of it.

But he does none of that. He inhales through his nose, lifts his chin, and says, "Firefighter Kinard."

At that, Tommy smiles, and it's completely awful. There's no joy in it. Not even amusement. He looks like he wants to be sick, and Buck feels like a monster.

But Tommy swallows and says, earnest as anything, "Congratulations. I-I knew you'd find it. I never doubted for a second that you'd find the person who'd be your last."

Even as he says it, Tommy's face does something indescribable, but it rips through Buck's chest and shatters his ribs, tearing through pericardial layers until it scores the vulnerable muscle of his heart. It's so shocking that it almost knocks the truth right out of Buck's mouth.

Someone comes over the radio and requests all available first responders with flight experience to report to the B-zone, and Tommy straightens up and locks whatever it was away.

With an unsteady hand, he tips an invisible hat to Buck and says wryly, "Firefighter Buckley," before jogging away.

And Buck stands there like an idiot watching him go. It's that night all over again. It's Buck instead of Evan.

"See you around," he whispers, and then runs back to his post in the A-zone.

+

Tommy gets the call when he's halfway through a burrito foisted upon him by Dana, who had taken one look at him and said, "You look like a flood victim. Eat something before I get HR involved."

He'd taken a mutinous bite and couldn't argue with her. Months later and it still felt like he'd watched everything he loved wash away with a tide he couldn't fight. Except he'd sent the tide himself. He had no business feeling like this.

But they send him to the site of a car accident where a pregnant driver had been T-boned by some asshole who ran the red light, and the RA unit called to the scene didn't have the right equipment to assess the fetus. But the victim's belly was hard enough to warrant a med evac.

By the time Dana gets the victim loaded on the backboard and inside, Tommy's already on with both First Presbyterian and LA General to see whose neonatal surgery team is available.

The door on Tommy's side slides open and Tommy turns in his seat to ask what the hell Dana's doing over there, but it's Hen who's pulling herself inside.

His stomach clenches with dread. "Hen?"

"I'm riding with you," she shouts, taking the headset that Dana gives her.

He looks just beyond her and wishes he'd had the presence of mind to listen to the manifest when Dana had read it aloud to him, because Evan Buckley is strapped to the gurney and looks like he's on a completely different planet.

"Hen." Tommy can't hear him say her name, but he sees Evan's mouth shape the word. Evan reaches clumsily out for her with one hand while pressing the other to his belly.

Hen murmurs something to him that the comms can't pick up, and Tommy wonders if they've notified Maddie, if they've notified the father, whoever they are. If they're already at the hospital waiting for them. If Tommy will have to see them, talk to them face to face.

Tommy bites the inside of his cheek until he feels the hot wash of blood over his tongue, then forces everything down to join the burrito from earlier that really wants to make a reappearance. It isn't his right to know any of it. That went out with the tide, too.

He locks it down tight enough that he gets them into the air so easily they might be a feather on the wind, then he heads in the direction of First Presbyterian. The real start of it all.

They're maybe halfway across the city when Evan shouts, desperation and fear carrying his voice over the rotors, the words sliding together, "Hen, check Nora! Y-Y'need to ch—"

"Nora's fine, Buck," Hen says, her voice clear as a bell in Tommy's ear.

Staring at a skyline he can't see, Tommy says, "'Nora'? Was someone else in the car with him?"

When Hen comes over the comm, her voice is as inescapable as a flood. "Nora's what he decided on for the baby. It's her name."

Tommy's hand tightens on the cyclic so the way it starts shaking won't be so obvious. "Nora was my grandmother's name."

He'd told Buck about the woman who was basically the only family he could stand, who was responsible for not letting him become his piece of shit father, who accepted him when no one else would. She'd meant the world to him. She'd been the world to him. And for Evan to give his kid her name—

Realization hits like a levy breaking, and he turns to look wide-eyed over his shoulder at Hen, because it can't—he couldn't be—

"Patient, male, 33, prenatal course complicated at 8 months gestation," Dispatch had said.

The timeline is right.

Hen stares right back, as good of a confirmation that he could get outside of a DNA test.

Without breaking her gaze, Tommy tells Dana to take over. She gives him an unreadable look but says nothing except, "Copy that," and smoothly resumes their journey while he squeezes into the back. There's hardly any room next to the gurney and his knees are compressing his lungs, but he takes Evan's' hand and stares blankly at the shiner forming around his right eye until Hen breaks the silence.

Why didn't you tell me, he wants to demand, but he knows that if he so much as opens his mouth, he's going to start screaming until someone sedates him.

"For the record," she says, "I hate what you did. I hate what you took from him. But I understand why you did it."

Tommy rolls his lips inward and wants to suffocate himself to death. She understands? Does she? Does she know a life can be obliterated in the span of a minute? Does she know what it is to live a half life, to walk through the world like a five-year old drew a scribble on a blank sheet of paper that was supposed to be a person?

Does she know what Evan looks like when his joy is sucked away? Because Tommy does. She hates what he did? No one hates what he did more than him. No one hates him more than him.

Shakily, he lifts his other hand and touches the tips of his fingers to Evan's birthmark, which used to know the touch of his lips so well that Evan would joke that it was actually in the shape of Tommy's mouth print. Like a brand.

He forces himself to inhale. It seems impossible that Evan's here, carrying their child, their Nora. Evan used to say the lightning strike gave him super powers, made him invincible, and Tommy's ashamed to admit that he almost believed him. It seemed like nothing could ever bring Evan Buckley down, but here he is in Tommy's sky, halfway to Heaven already.

He glances at the LifePAK—where Evan's life has been concentrated into a series of lines and numbers, the reading strong despite everything—and then looks back at Evan, who is still the most beautiful man Tommy has ever seen even now.

"Evan," he chokes out.

There's no answer. At least not from Evan.

Across from him, Hen breathes through her nose and then quietly says, "I'm only going to say this once, Tommy, so I hope you're listening. If you can't trust him to know what his own heart wants, then this flight will never have happened. When he wakes up, you will not have been here. I'll change the manifest myself."

Tommy closes his eyes. Something hot spills down his cheeks.

"I know things haven't been all sunshine and roses for you. Lucy's said you've basically shut down since it ended. I know you're hurting just as much as Buck is... which is why I'm telling you: be sure. He's going to have enough on his plate without worrying about whether or not you're going to swan out of his life again. You need to be sure, Tommy."

Tommy doesn't say anything, but he opens his eyes and holds her gaze without flinching, and he tightens his hold on Evan's hand.

The rest of the flight passes in the kind of silence that feels like a cyst was lanced. Or maybe a boil, as it were.

+

Buck wakes up in stages to find he's in a hospital bed, and when he puts a hand on his belly it's smaller and almost deflated beneath his palm. He is just starting to hyperventilate when suddenly Tommy's there, murmuring to him, "You're okay. Everything's okay, I promise, she's fine. She's fine. Look."

And Buck, heart racing, forces himself to breathe slowly while he follows Tommy's gaze down to the bundle in Tommy's arms. Then he stops breathing altogether.

"She's fine," Tommy says. "A little early, according to the doctor, but absolutely fine."

Buck collapses back to the bed and weeps in relief, because she's fine. She's here and she's fine and she's perfect. Tommy gently places her in Buck's arms before retreating to the chair next to the bed which has a dent in the vinyl in the shape of his ass.

But Buck is enraptured with Nora, who smacks her lips in her sleep, and he marvels aloud, "She has my mouth."

"Thank God for that," Tommy says with a laugh. "It'll help take the focus off my nose. Poor kid."

It hits Buck like lightning that Tommy is here. He's in this room and talking about Nora like—like he knows. And there are things Buck should probably be saying, like apologizing for not telling Tommy about her as soon as he found out, or asking why he's there at all, but the words are crowding in his mouth and he can't figure out which ones should go first.

Tommy's lips twitch in a smile that is awful to look at, like he completely understand Buck's struggle, but his voice is soft and even when he says, "I need you to know that it wasn't about you. Not you personally. It never was."

Buck stops trying to speak and just stares at him, because that is bullshit, and oh, he knows which words should come first, and he opens his mouth to release them into the wild but Tommy holds up a hand.

"I know," he says. "I was a coward and an asshole, and I'm more sorry than I can possibly say. I won't ever be able to make up for what I did. But I need you to know why I did it."

And, in fits and starts before he finally finds the thread, Tommy tells him about Jeremy.

After Tommy ended things with Abby and then finally came out, he dated around for a long time before he met Jeremy, who was brilliant and fun and new. Tommy was the first man Jeremy had ever been with, and Jeremy was the first person Tommy saw a future with. He'd been so sure about Jeremy. He'd believed that Jeremy was it.

Until, almost two years in, Jeremy ended it. He'd sat Tommy down and said kindly, cruelly, "You're amazing, Tom, but you're just the first. You can't be my last." And then he'd left Tommy completely shattered in the rearview.

"That night, when you asked me to move in... it was like I was watching him put on his coat all over again," Tommy says shakily. "But what I felt for you was lightyears beyond anything I felt for him. I'd fallen so hard for you that I knew if I had to watch you walk away I'd never get up again."

Buck stares at Tommy, eyes rimmed red, and says, "So instead you made me watch you walk away."

It must land like a fist because Tommy exhales sharply and hangs his head, bowing around the pain. He sits like that for a moment, absorbing it, before he lifts his head and nods. "Yeah. That's exactly what I did."

There are deep, dark circles under Tommy's eyes that speak of a hundred sleepless nights, and his body is sharper, leaner, trimmed entirely of anything soft. He's made entirely of angles. He's so unfairly hot. He's miserable to look at.

Buck swallows and murmurs, "You look like there's no love in your life, Tommy."

Sucking in a trembling breath, Tommy smiles weakly and sketches a shrug. It looks like the fatigued steel of his edges are starting to crack.

"I left all my love with you that night." His gaze darts down. "Among other things."

Buck looks down at Nora, who's sleeping the sleep of someone already exhausted by existence, or maybe just by her fathers' drama, and thinks that maybe he really has been carrying all his love plus Tommy's around. Because otherwise he has no idea how he's so full of it.

"She's absolutely perfect," Buck says, smiling dopily.

"She's... more than anything I could've ever dreamed of."

He looks up in time to see Tommy drop his gaze to the floor at the same time his shoulders lift and lock like they're bracing for a blow. And in a voice so thin it's barely a sound, Tommy says, "I know I don't have... any right to ask, but is there any... any chance I could be part of her life?"

The tears that have been languishing at the edges of Buck's eyes finally see an opportunity. He doesn't think he could've held them back any longer if he tried.

Mouth trembling, he whispers, "Just hers?"

At that, Tommy looks up, eyes wide, disbelief and hope chasing each other across his face like dogs. He jerks a little in his chair but he doesn't move. He doesn't move.

Buck stares at him, a tsunami pulling everything back from his shoreline, and bites out, "Thomas James Kinard, if you don't get over here and kiss me, I swear to Christ—"

But Tommy's out of the chair and at his bedside, cupping Buck's face and tenderly smearing a kiss over his open mouth, licking the relieved gasp right off Buck's tongue.

Between them, Nora makes a tiny noise, and Tommy startles away just enough that he can press the side of his head to Buck's and gaze down at her with a tremulous smile.

"She really is something, huh? Sorry about the nose, kiddo," he says softly.

Buck knocks their heads together and says, "I happen to love that nose, thanks. And like you said, my lips will help balance it out."

Huffing a laugh, Tommy kisses Buck's lips. And the side of his nose and the bolt of his jaw. Then he leans down and presses a kiss to Nora's little pink and blue hat.

"I'm sure if you are," Tommy murmurs, tilting his chin up so he can flash a brave smile up at Buck, who smiles back.

"I was always sure."

[bogleech]

(Editing because it got even sillier once I realized who this last guy is)

I like how you take "eliminate" to immediately mean I wanna shoot people. They're called harsh words, and here they're leveled at people who DO want to go out and shoot whoever they don't like. You are being little baby language police. Put maga fash in a big meat grinder. Hold them down and cut their livers out. Force feed them roundup through a garden hose. See? You can type any letters in any order. It doesn't do anything to anyone. Not like, say, running over peaceful protesters with a truck. Who was it who (repeatedly) did that again?

Anyway, @captainsquare , the only thing I know about you is that you were pals with this guy who once ranted at me for hours and hours, thousands of more words than I ever wrote back, because he said on someone else's post that all "commies" should be tortured or killed like the bugs in Starship Troopers and I told him that was a fucked up crazy thing to say.

Sure everyone hates pedophiles but this is also the type of guy who thinks every trans or nonbinary schoolteacher must secretly be one. And to him a "communist" is anyone who believes climate change is a problem or that billionaires should be taxed more. So how come this dude you admire can talk explicitly about killing whomever he defines as undesirables with phrases as unambiguous as "they deserve death," but you're trying to get on me for throwing a whole lot less back at these types?

We’re going to hear a lot of stupid bullshit over the next few days/months/years about how Harris/the Democrats failed to win over men, or young people, or uneducated voters, or those worried about the economy, or whatever….but the truth is this: this country hates women and minorities; its citizens understand fuck all about the economy; and the people are incredibly susceptible to outright lies, scams and fascist values

[auclairedetoru]

More of this.

"y/n ?”

Sukuna calls out for his roommate. They're currently lounging in the living room, each one doing their own thing. This is typical for them, especially after dinner since they both eat earlier than most people. One would be watching something on TV and the other would be reading or on their phone, occasionally talking but for the most part they sit in comfortable silence.

“Yes, Kuna?”

He holds back from grinning at the new nickname she gave him. Surprisingly, no one in Sukuna's life has ever called him that, but he quite likes it, especially since it came from her.

“Gojo's hosting a party at his and Suguru's place and they're inviting you. Do you wanna go together?”

She didn't hesitate to agree but warned him that it's her first time going to a college party and she might cling to him the whole time they're there because she's probably not going to know a lot of people. He promises her that he will not separate from her and that she'll have a great time, and he offers her solutions for when she gets overwhelmed, which she appreciates greatly.

Sukuna's excited for her to be at the party. He'll get to show her off, have fun with her and his friends, and most importantly, protect her from any unwanted attention. He wants to show that he's strong and capable of protecting her when needed. For what reason? Well, he hasn't figured that part out yet, but he knows for sure that he wants to do that.

Yeah... He definitely doesn't know the reason.

Things are not going as planned for Sukuna... For the most part anyways.

His roommate is having a blast. Satoru and Suguru are amazing hosts because they provided everything for her to be comfortable. Satoru offered her his room in case it all got too much for her and she needs a break, Suguru went out and got her non-alcoholic drinks in the middle of the party because she told him she doesn't drink. All three of them are trying their best to include her in conversations and games so she wouldn't feel pushed aside.

Thankfully, all their efforts are working. She has told them she's having a lot of fun multiple times. No one has bothered her yet, something Sukuna didn't expect because she gets hit on every time they're out together, and don't get him started on the amount of men that approach her at the gym asking for her number.

What he also didn't expect was for him to be hit on. It never usually happens, people are way too intimidated by him. The only time he gets flirted with is at a bar when they're both drunk. But this time, it's different.

If he's honest, he's getting quite annoyed. This girl wouldn't leave him alone. He's been trying to reject her gently all night long, but she seems to not understand what he's trying to say.

At first, she sent her friend who asked him if he was single, he gave them a simple "yes and not looking." answer before going back to playing beer pong.

Then, she approached him herself, talking about "sorry about my friend haha, they're crazy!". He knows that it's all bullshit, he saw them talking to each other in the corner of the room before each one talked to him. He sent her a forced smile and didn't say a word to her but she still wouldn't leave him alone.

And even now, as he sits in a circle with some of the people at the party playing an intense game of Uno, in which she is not participating, she's still trying to squeeze between him and the person to his right, telling him what cards to play and acting like they're a team against everyone else.

He doesn't want to be mean or rude and snap at her, people are just figuring out that he's not an asshole like his looks might give off, but god is it hard to hold back. He wants to tell her to fuck off and that he's not - and will not be - interested in her, but he can't and it's making him even more annoyed.

Y/n on his left has started noticing his annoyed huffs and how he's scooting closer and closer to her every time she hears that girl talk. One quick glance at his face and body language told her everything she needs to know.

Oh how the turn tables... Or whatever the saying is, because Sukuna's plans are about to flip around.

“hey, girl in the sequin top,” y/n calls out just as her turn started, making everyone look at her and the girl breathing down his neck, “can't you get a hint? You're clearly making him uncomfortable.”

The girl huffs and looks y/n up and down, as if she's trying to intimidate her but clearly it didn't work, “who are you to say whether he's uncomfortable or not? He can speak for himself, right Suki?” her voice becomes sickly sweet at the end, almost squeaking in his ear. He wants to vomit at that ugly nickname coming out of her mouth. He doesn't like it, in fact, it's the worst thing he has ever been called, and people have called him way worse offensive things.

He's about to speak up, but y/n quickly (and without realising) interprets him, “Are you dumb on purpose? He's about to sit on my lap trying to get away from you,” she mentions to the nonexisting empty space between them, “you're annoying everyone, leave before you embarrass yourself further.”

The girl scoffs and rises to her feet, her gaze sharpens with a glare as she places a hand on her hip, “if you're looking for a fight then bring it on now!” she declares, her voice laced with almost too much confidence.

Without any hesitation, y/n shrugs off her jacket and rises to her full height. It's clear as day who would win if things got physical. Sequin top girl is shorter than her, even in heels, and it’s obvious that y/n has spent far more time with a punching bag than she ever has.

Y/n raises an eyebrow as the girl swallows hard, her eyes flickering up to meet hers. The shift in her demeanor is unmistakable, her confidence replaced with intimidation. “you're gonna leave now or what?” y/n asks, her tone steady and unbothered.

With a huff, sequin top girl grabs her friend and disappears between the crowd of people, hopefully leaving the house entirely. Y/n sits back down and puts on her jacket, ignoring how everyone is staring at her so her cheeks wouldn't burn any further. Her heart is hammering against her chest, not being used to confrontation, but she is proud to stand up for her roommate.

She quickly plays her turn and thankfully everyone in the circle understood that she doesn't want to keep the attention on what happened and continued the game. She can feel Sukuna staring at her, so she turns to him, hoping he won't notice how flustered she feels, “what are you staring at?”

Sukuna knows that she's not the type to do what she did, she doesn't even like correcting the servers when they get her order wrong, but she stepped out of her comfort zone to defend him when he couldn't do it for himself. He's feeling something in his heart, something he can't describe, but he doesn't hate the feeling, it's nice actually, like a warm blanket wrapped around him on a cold night.

He planned on protecting her, on turning away anyone who would ruin her night, but instead she protected him and stood up for him. If he was lying down his feet would be kicking.

“that was kinda hot.”

“shut up,” she mumbles and looks away from him and towards the ongoing game, clearly too shy to accept his teasing compliment. He chuckles and does the same, not wanting to fluster her more than she's clearly feeling.

One day, he'll return the favour.

Something quick for roomie!sukuna 🤭

[raysrambles]

on the day the election results got announced, one of my friends wasn't at school. she was the friend that I had the most classes with, and I remember as the hours ticked by the painful knowledge that she wasn't sick, not physically, but that she just couldn't bear to be there that day.

i overheard classmates talking. "how are you?" asked one; in a broken voice, another: "I don't know".

"I'm scared," was the most common sentence I heard that day. "i can't live like this," said someone in the hallway; "we've still got each other," said another in what I desperately wanted to believe was hope.

"I prayed last night for the first time since I was five," said a friend of a friend; I looked out the classroom window at the cloudy sky and wondered if there was a god, and if he had heard them.

I watched people break down crying in the middle of class. by the end of the day, several kids had left school early.

"I need to get out of here," I said to my friends at lunch. "we're not going to make it another four years," said one of them grimly. how dystopian, how orwellian was it that a group of seventeen year olds were so casually discussing their escape from the country they had grown up in, the country that had raised them only to throw them to the dirt before they were even able to vote?

after school i drove to another school for a debate tournament. one of the judges who I hadn't seen in a year and with whom I'd only had one or two conversations came up to me and asked "how are you doing?"

"could be better," I admitted, "but I'm surviving." that was a bit of an understatement; there were tears in my eyes even as I spoke.

"I'm here," she told me, this woman who I hardly knew, and I realized that she was asking because she remembered one of our only interactions, a year ago, where I had casually mentioned being trans--

--and her gaze flitted down to my shoes, where back then I had had beads in the colors of the trans flag, beads that weren't there anymore, not because of any change in myself but that of the world around me.

"I'm here," she said again, and we stared at each other for a few seconds. I managed a "thanks", not trusting myself to say anything else.

that night I went onto Instagram. someone I hadn't spoken to since we fell out over a year ago had texted me a simple "I love you and am with you" type of message. all of my friends and even people I hardly knew were posting about the election, and I remembered

back when Biden was elected, the Republicans I saw online reacted with hatred, disgust, doubt for his abilities

but now all I saw from the ones who had lost this battle was fear

when the other side lost, they had the privilege of hatred

now that we've lost, all we can do is fear.

terrified sixteen, seventeen, eighteen year olds, in flurries of messages to long-gone friends and frantic posts. I had never felt more united, and yet I could not relish in our closeness because I knew it was not the closeness of friends but the closeness of soldiers too young for war, huddling close as their imminent death rained down from the sky, searching for some last comfort at the end of their too-short stories.

"I won't pretend this isn't as bad as it is," I typed out, "honestly I'm freaking scared. But we owe it to ourselves not to let this be the end of our beliefs.

"We still know we're right, even if the government doesn't agree. We're still all in this together.

"Love to everyone who's affected by this. I'm right here with you. Stay safe everyone."

I posted the Instagram story, praying to a god I didn't know that the words were true.

the next night when the house and senate election results came in, I cried, and it was not pretty crying, it was a child wracked with sobs in the dark on the floor of their room because they were only seventeen and terrified for their future.

I spent a long time writing that night, something I do to process my thoughts when everything is too much. I will simply offer this passage, which I think speaks for itself.

"Shall I tell them I am afraid because of the election? Shall I tell them that all day I have felt like a child masquerading as a man, scared of the boogeyman as i am scared of the fascist-like creature whose grasp is tightening and whose claws never cease, closing in on lives like a predator its prey? That I am a child scared of insignificance, of a fate I did not choose, of becoming a meaningless name among many, not of democracy falling but of not being the one who felled it?"

So to everyone celebrating the election, I'm glad that you're happy, truly I am. But I ask you to think of me and my friends, still children, most of us not quite old enough to even have our say in this country, as you laugh and rejoice and mock all of us who you defeated.

How many times must we cry, must we fall, must we watch each other die before enough will be enough?

Will it ever be enough?

[jieas]

—JUST A LITTLE BIT OF TIME TO HEAL THE ACHE!

what wind breaker boys— sakura, suo, kiryu, hiragi, umemiya, togame, endo, takiishi— do when you're sore

content: fluff, all probably occ, rdr is implied to be an athlete + had [unspecified] practice, slightly suggestive? (endo), minor blood mention (takiishi) total wc: 1234, each scenario is 100-200

a/n. wrote this since winter season = sports for me and i'm too sore to live (after only two days help me)

sakura haruka doesn't do anything to help alleviate your pain. at first, he just assumes you're being dramatic. you've done it before, complaining about something and then saying it's all fine within the hour.

but when he noticed the way you slightly winced each and every time you moved around, he realized this wasn't like those other times. though he had no clue what to do to help you, was there a right or wrong to it? he could only think of one thing that may help soothe you, food.

was there anything else that could help? probably, but he was already bickering with kotoha. and after tons, and tons, of back and forth with her, he'd somehow managed to convince her to let him take home some omurice.

he's silent as he hands you the bag, one hand jutting it closer to you while the other is clenched in his pocket. his face was beet red as he handed it to you, not admitting the lengths he had to go through to get it. since then, he always got something to eat after your grueling day at practice. even if it didn't relieve the ache you felt, it still made you feel better. just not in the areas that hurt.

suo hayato briefs you on types of anti-inflammatory teas when your muscles sting. there are slices of castella cake for you to enjoy while you try to ignore the constant throb of your thighs from the way you're seated. 

as he lists off various styles of pekoe, already beginning to brew another kind, he watches for any more signs of your discomfort. his glances are short, barely noticeable behind the steam that caresses his features. he's quick to direct his attention back to the small cups in front of him, watching the orange that blooms across the surface of the hot water. 

the rest of the time is spent with you talking about everything you did during practice, taking sips of the infusion every now and then. suo nods along, listening to every word with that familiar smile on his face though there's a flash of something else in his unhidden eye. 

however, it's quickly masked as he pours you more tea, knowing he'll make you as much tea as you need if there's a chance your muscles will ache less.

kiryu mitsuki makes sure to distract you from the discomfort you're experiencing. he teaches you how to play the latest game he has, watching your brows furrow in concentration. 

if you're busy trying to win, you can't focus on the dull throb of your shoulders or neck. and while you're occupied with the game, kiryu has a hot pack held against your nape. he has one hand rubbing the hot pack against your soreness while the other works into your shoulder. 

and if you win, he'll move behind you to give you a proper massage. if you lose, well better luck next time because the hot pack is the best you're gonna get.

hiragi toma and you are both swallowing a stomach tablet or two after you told him your abdomen felt strained. of course it was, your coaches had everyone focus a little too much on working their core that day. 

and though you informed him it would be fine in just a few days, he wasn't buying it. especially not when he could see the discomfort on your face whenever you simply laughed. 

so what if gas-kun 10's weren't for soreness? it was stomach medication and your stomach ached, what else was he supposed to give you? plus, he was already taking some when he found you were overworking your body so he might as well hand you one too, right? 

he'll always end up scolding you later but makes sure you're resting while he does.

umemiya hajime is practically at your beck and call when you say you're sore. especially if your legs are hurting. 

when he finds out you have any kind of pain in your thighs, he's making sure you won't be able to feel it. he's not allowing you to even think about going anywhere by yourself. 

umemiya makes sure to carry you everywhere, and if you need anything, he's bringing it right to you. why wouldn't he? it's not like he wants you to feel the way your legs wobble when you try to stand. 

just know that if your legs ache near umemiya, he's never letting you out of his sight. you won't even be allowed to stand without him right there, either holding you or supporting your weight. he just can't stand to see you struggling to do so.

togame jo doesn't let you lift a finger when you mention you're sore. he doesn't even let you move.

instead, he has you lying on top of him, your face resting by the crook of his neck. his large hands move across your skin, gently massaging any areas you complained about earlier. 

togame focuses on tenderly pawing at your aching back, light enough not to hurt more but just enough pressure that you can feel it. by the time he's done giving you cuddles and a message, you've managed to fall asleep. 

maybe it was the exhaustion from practice or he was just that good of a masseuse, but you refuse to tell him the reason. 

endo yamato runs you a warm bath whenever your muscles ache. but he can never leave it at just a bath. 

the moment you mention the stinging pain throughout your body, he's scooping you up and leading you elsewhere. it would be a sweet gesture if the wasn't lit with candles, a trail of rose petals on the floor, all while he jokes about how you should let him join you. though you're not sure if he really is joking. 

he's careful as he helps you into the tub, his touch tender as he washes your hair for you. of course, you could do it by yourself but why would he let you go through the trouble? just relax in the warm bubbly water and let him do it for you. 

after, he'll dry you off, wrap you up in a fluffy robe, and massage your arms as you lounge in the comfort of a soft bed.

takiishi chika doesn't say a word when you quietly groan as you sit down beside him to watch a movie. he simply glances at you for a moment before his attention is directed back to the actors on screen. 

though when he notices the way your knees tremble the moment you try to stand up, he's deft in pulling you back down. your hiss of pain is met with a hushed mumble from him, unclear if it was an apology or a low-pitched scolding. 

takiishi is quick to drag your legs into his lap, cold hands kneading your slightly swollen knees. you hear him grumbling about how you land on your knees too much during practice. 

you watched the way he squinted when he saw the small crimson splotches from when you accidentally broke the thin skin. there's a noiseless click of his tongue before he focuses back on the movie, hands still rubbing your raw knees. 

the night continues with you both still on the couch, takiishis cold soda cup held on your broken skin in a means to soothe it.

note. going through everything i wrote about all at once, i'm done

[thezombieprostitute]

What's Mine

Summary: Bucky pushes you too far and decides to explain how your situation works. Or doesn't.

Word Count: ~2.3 k

Warnings: Dark Fic, Implied dub/non con, Power imbalance. Please let me know if I missed any.

Previous Part

It's been a few months since Bucky "claimed" you. He followed up on his promises of taking care of you. You frequently woke up to some surprise gift or another. One day it was a fully stocked kitchen. Another day it was the leak in the bathroom sink getting fixed. More than a few times it's been jewelry with his initials on it.

And all it cost was letting him use you. You swear a piece of your soul dies every time he makes you cum. Every time he coats you in his semen. Every time you match his fervor. It might not be so bad if he didn't gloat every time. That damn smirk haunted your dreams. Or was it nightmares? What was the difference anymore?

It had definitely affected your standing in the community. People were scared to interact with you. Fewer parents brought their kids to the library when you were there. Ruth and her friends had no problems calling you all sorts of degrading things under their breath. You definitely caught them giving you the evil eye more than a few times.

Part of you suspected that if you'd quit trying to fight him he'd lose interest. He liked when you were in a fiery mood. If you could just give in, give up, he'd likely stop using you. But you couldn't help yourself. You hated him. You hated yourself for enjoying the pleasure he gave. That hate needed an outlet.

You pull into your driveway, no longer surprised to see Bucky's bike there as well. You sigh, wondering if you can talk him into to leaving. You're exhausted. Walking into the house you don't even have a chance to take your jacket off before Bucky is on you.

"Bucky, please no. I'm just too tired."

He chuckles, "don't worry. I'm just really happy to see you. We're going out tonight."

You sigh, "I'd rather stay in."

"Then that means you have the energy for me all night."

"Ugh, fine. Where are we going?"

"I've got you an appointment at the tattoo parlor."

"WHAT?! I hate tattoos! I can't get any!"

He smiles as he growls at you, "you're going to get a tattoo just for me. No one else is going to be able to see it, but we'll know it's there."

"Isn't the jewelry enough of your 'ownership'? You even got me a brooch for my cardigans with your initials!"

Bucky licks his lips, "it was just the beginning, Doll. So far everything I've done to mark you are things that can wash away or heal up. This is the next step."

"I refuse," you declare, crossing your arms.

"Fuck, Doll, you're getting me riled up." He puts his arms on each side of your head, boxing you in against the wall. "And you're getting that damn tattoo. We can either go now, while you're still cleaned up, or after I've fucked your brains out and you're a cum covered mess."

"Fine," you drop your head. "Let's go to the tattoo parlor."

"Not yet." He grabs you chin and makes your look at him. "You need to thank me, first, Doll."

Bile rises at the back of your throat. "Thank you for letting me preserve my dignity."

He laughs. "Give me another," he taunts, using the same voice as when he's telling you to give him another orgasm. You hate yourself for the involuntarily clench your pussy does.

"Thank you, Bucky, for...for introducing me to Bunny. It is nice to have a friend." A friend who understands how fucked you both are, you think.

That gets a more sincere smile on his face. "It is important to me that you know my best friend and his girl. I'm glad you're good to them. Bunny is gonna need you when she's pregnant."

"What are friends for," you dryly reply.

"That's my good girl, Doll."

The tattoo is pretty much what you expected. His initials, right over your heart. If you wore anything low cut, it would be obvious. You were sure that was the point: can't even show a hint of skin without reminding everyone who it actually belongs to. At least it wouldn't be a problem at work, given you always dress conservatively.

By the time you're home Bucky is practically salivating at the memory of the tattoo on your chest. He might be eager to see this permanent mark of his claim on you but at least he's willing to follow instructions for proper care so it doesn't scar or make you sick. You made sure to thank him for that, knowing he likes to hear it, and he reiterates, "I take care of what's mine."

"Any chance I can just get some sleep tonight? I wasn't lying when I said I was tired."

"I'm all worked up, Doll."

"I thought you take care of what's yours," you snap back. "How is keeping me awake, not letting get good sleep, taking care of me?"

He grips your chin and gives you a thoughtful look. "I suppose you're right," he admits. "Even a vibrator's batteries gotta recharge every so often, right?" You roll your eyes and he grins. "But I'm going to hold you all night and when you wake up, it's on. I know you don't work tomorrow."

"Is that why you helped with my budget? So I'd have more free time to be your personal toy?" You can't fight the fire in your voice. You're tired, yes. Tired of being so angry all the time.

"Aww, you admit you're mine," he teases.

Unable to hold back any longer you smack his face. "I have never been so angry or tired as I have been since you showed up. You want to take care of me? You want me to be yours? Treat me like a fucking person!" Tears are pouring out of your eyes, the stress and frustration of the months finally finding a kind of release.

Bucky glowers at you and grabs your throat with his metal arm. "You shouldn't have done that, Doll."

"I don't care anymore," you croak.

That seems to catch him off guard as his hand loosens and his face softens.

"Oh, Doll," he shakes his head. "You really should've said something sooner." You squeeze your eyes shut as more tears start falling. He removes his hand from your throat and brings you in for a hug, causing you to cry even more. He pats your hair and coos, "there, there," until you can't cry any more.

"Let's get you to bed," he says quietly.

"I...I don't...I don't understand."

He gently lifts your chin, "you know, before Bunny ran, I tried to warn Steve he was being too controlling. That she was going to bolt. He didn't listen and, sure enough, she escaped. Wouldn't surprise me if she continued to try because he hasn't learned to loosen his grip. I don't plan on repeating his mistakes. Yes, you're mine and you'll never be rid of me. But that doesn't mean I can't be benevolent."

You sniffle as your brain tries to comprehend the sudden change in his demeanor.

"Now lets make sure that tattoo is properly cared for," he says with a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I...I hit you," you stammer.

"You're over-stressed and tired," he shrugs. "If I thought you were doing it just because you wanted to hurt me, yes, there would be repercussions. But I've apparently been overworking my poor Doll, so I'll forgive that one smack." His tone at that last part implies any more attempts to lash out at him will be punished.

"Thank you, Bucky," you murmur as you hang your head.

"Mmmm. That's more like it. Now let's get you to bed and tomorrow we'll work on your communication skills."

You wake up feeling like you're hungover without having had any alcohol. The delicious smells of breakfast lure you out of the bed, even though you dread meeting the cook.

Bucky's shirtless and smiling as he works. If you were in anything close to a healthy relationship you'd smile at how happy he is. Instead you keep your head down, trying not to think about that metal hand wrapped around your neck. About how those muscles feel pressed against your back, or on top of you.

He sees you and gestures for you to sit at the table. He brings you a plate of breakfast, a mug of coffee and kisses the top of your head before sitting across from you. You don't eat right away like he does, lost in your confusion about this change in behavior.

"Eat, Doll," he orders. "I didn't stock your kitchen and cook this up just for you to let it go cold."

"What is going on?" your voice is barely above a whisper.

"I'm taking care of my girl," he answers, nonchalantly. You look at him like you've never seen him before and he sighs. "Eat, or I will force it down your throat."

You grab a slice of the toast and start chewing. "Thank you, Bucky," you grumble and he nods in his approval.

"One of the differences between me and Cap is that I know I'm a monster," he tells you between bites. "He likes to think we've done all of this to keep his girl safe and give her the life she always wanted. I know better. But we've been best friends since we were kids. Ride or die, you know? So I'm always going to have his back. I've just made peace with the fact that it means ruining lives."

"You never tried to talk him out of it? Out of taking over an entire town?"

He shakes his head. "Steve's the kind of guy who can never be talked or distracted from his goal. One of the things I find endearing about him."

"So, he gets you all to take over everything here and you, what? Enjoy the spoils?" Feeling the bile rise at the back of your throat, you go for another slice of toast to try to settle your stomach while keeping Bucky happy.

"It's a balance," he grins. "We take over and just start doing whatever the hell we want, a lot of people are going to die trying to get rid of us. So we set up some rules for our men. People will remain upset, of course, but they're less likely to 'rise up' so long as we have a level of restraint. It's, honestly, the biggest part of my job as Cap's second."

You think on this for a minute, mindlessly eating. "I get why the town, but why me?"

He shrugs, "I needed the stress relief. It ain't easy keeping a crew in line and I was initially just hoping for a quiet spot to read to calm down. Then I started watching you. Saw you expertly handle all kinds of difficulties. When you snapped at me, I figured, like me, you could use some stress relief."

"Stress relief?!" He gives you a look that has you clamming up.

"And fuck you were so good," he muses. "That first photo is still the background on my phone." Heat rushes to your face. "I decided to go ahead and keep you as mine. You're not only a good fuck, but you were quick to befriend Bunny. Everyone else who sees her with Cap has decided to avoid her. Something I know you've been experiencing, even though you haven't told me." You look down, unable to say anything. "I honestly thought you liked the rough treatment and was happy to give it, but I'm guessing we hit a limit for you."

"You branded me," you snarl.

"No, I got you a tattoo. Branding is something else and would've hurt you a lot more." His tone is stern and you return your attention to your food. "You've played a critical role in helping me keep things under control. Plus, since you're my girl, you get some privileges and protections. You think Steve would've beaten up Walker for some random librarian? No. But for his best friend's girl? That's another story."

"So, you're just going to keep using me?"

"Yes," he nods. "And now that I know more about your limits, I'm less likely to get stabbed in my sleep."

You look at him, aghast, "that's why you never stayed the night before?"

Bucky chuckles, "so smart. I love it. And now that you have more information, hopefully you're smart enough to put the rest of the pieces together."

"If I hurt you, Steve drops everything to find and kill me. Probably painfully." He nods. "If I make you angry, you're likely to take it out on someone who doesn't deserve it or you lose control of your men for long enough that they hurt someone who doesn't deserve it." He nods again, smiling at you. "And if I stop playing along like everything is okay, it's another sign to the townsfolk that might set them over the edge and have them shooting, getting hurt, or worse."

Bucky finishes his breakfast, nodding at your conclusions. "God, I love that you're so smart. Makes a lot of this so much easier." You start sniffling and he reaches across the table to gently grip your chin. "I get that this is a lot to take in, Doll. But I know you'll make the right decision. If you really didn't care about this town, you'd have left when you only had a skeleton budget. You're willing to work yourself to the bone to take care of these people, you're willing to be mine to keep them safe."

"I can't say 'no'," you whimper.

"But it doesn't have to be all bad. Remember, I take care of what's mine."

Previous Part

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[glitter-hound]

saw this post and now i can't stop thinking about how will never talks casually around hannibal despite us knowing he is fully capable of doing so.

that scene with molly on the phone demonstrates this so well- will is fully capable of chatting and joking around and not talking through indirect gestures nearing the realm of poetry, but he never does that with hannibal.

with hannibal he speaks like a poet. not to say he's rambunctious around everyone else, of course he's a quiet and blunt person. but as their connection continues on, will seems to pick up hannibal's artsy, aesthetic, scholarly way of speaking. mirroring the one person who makes him feel safe.

it seems like anything other than poetry doesn't feel adequate for them, the way they make each other feel isn't done justice by anything casual. it'd be like calling the sistine chapel "cool". when they speak to each other, all the words that leave their mouths are always completely intentional. they treat conversation like a flirty game of chess.

i love hannibal because its a love story told through the lens of violence and murder and pain and torture, but its all about something as soft and sweet as two people not knowing how to speak to each other.

i think that's a large part of why their love feels so warm despite everything. it's earnest, it's juvenile, and it's beauty is most often manifested through carefully thought out words, and the occasional indirect confession of how much they matter to the other. they don't need touch, they just want to make poetry out of one another ˊᵕˋ

[jello-library]

hey so you’re the only person I can find who talked about Euclidean!reader and the original poster disappeared. Do you know anything else because the concept was soooo good but I js cannot find it anymore!

And Now There Just Two

Bill Cipher x Euclidean!GN!Reader

Aww! Thank you! This ask been sitting here for awhile and I do feel bad what happen to the original poster.

I hope I didn’t scare them off or anything 😭 But here some headcanons let me know if y’all want a part 2 out of this!

This brought a bit of comfort after everything that is going on. I hope everyone who’s been affected is safe and I wish everyone the best.💛

TW: Fluff, Angst. Toxic Relationships (Platonic and a bit romantic(?) you’ll see, Bill Cipher he’s a warning on his own. Cussing.

If they’re anything else please let me know so I can tag properly! Thank you!

GIVE IT UP FOR SEPARATION ANXIETY!

Yeah, from both sides but Bill is more secretive about it. He does not want you to be aware of him being vulnerable. But sometimes, he does come to search for you to merely sit in silence and exist. 

It's comforting for him…

It doesn't matter how many times you ask why he does this he either avoids it or says that you're just thinking too deeply into it and you should be happy that he's giving you the time of day. 

He's a very busy guy you know! 

He can be turning someone's skin into sandpaper and their organs into rubber! But instead, he is with you. So be happy!

You two are the only ones left and Euclidea probably had their language. Most conversations are spoken in your mother tongue. 

Lots of cultural aspects of Euclidea have been lost to time but there are some things you may still partake in. This is rare because it can get quite depressing for both of you. Bill won't recognize what you're doing at first but, when he does. 

It's not pretty…

And we know how Bill copes with things so it's best if you give him some time alone. He will come back when ready and pretend that never happens.

I think anything that has to do with home is bittersweet to him and if this is under the notion that you are not aware of him being the reason that it is gone. 

That is a whole new layer of issues to get into. 

In this Au, I would like the idea of the reader discovering Ford before Bill and then becoming good friends with him. Promising him knowledge about the multiverses and different realms that exist. They have been alive just as long as Bill so they pick up a thing or two. 

The reader and Ford's friendship is genuine. The reader gifts him many different types of moths to Ford, introducing them to anything earth-related. 

Ford does well fall for the reader but they have no clue about it. They never allow themselves to experience a relationship or either too shy to enter one. 

I mean, have you seen Bill's track record? That man is not a good partner at all! And if I wanted to add more salt to the wound. 

Bill having feelings for the reader can be included in this but it would take him so long to want to pursue it because he associates the reader with Euclidea. He wants to leave that in the past but, we know he keeps his home close to his heart. 

So when he's accepting his long-term feelings for the reader here's the reader and Ford slowly learning how to love themselves and each other—from late-night talks to the reader telling Ford what happened to their homeworld and why they want him to contact Stanly because you may never know when you're going to lose the people that you love. 

And let's just say the reader was making good progress with Ford! Helping him interact with others and trying to get out of his comfort zone bit by bit. 

Their relationship was sweet it was kind and gentle. Then Bill came in and ruined all of it. 

The moment he did that it made the reader's perception of Bill change for the worst. The reader probably doesn't have a lot of friends outside of him and sticks close to him because of grief and familiarity. The reader most likely looks at Bill with rose-tinted glasses and tries to justify his actions in their head. 

So when they meet Ford, they likely want to keep it private and separate from their other life.

So when Bill finds out about Ford and his intelligence, he swoops his right under the reader's nose with an excuse. 

"ANY FRIEND OF YOURS IS A FRIEND OF MINE. PLUS I CAN'T HAVE SOME RANDO TAKE MY BEST FRIEND NOW, CAN'T I?"  

This leads to them reader and Ford hanging out less and less to the point the reader feels like Ford forgot they exist. Ah, the angst and self-realization around this time for them was like watching a train wreck.

And we know how Bill and Ford's relationship turns out. Let's talk about the reader and fords around his paranoid era. 

Ford probably thinks that they are with Bill and this whole taking over the world plan. So when the reader comes to check up on him after the whole O'Sadley incident.

The interaction that happened between them was heartbreaking. They got their answers on what happened between him and Bill and felt like it was their fault this even happening. The reader is desperate to try to fix it so they won't lose Ford but it is too late. 

"I-I promise! I didn't mean for this to happen! Ford, please tell me what I need to do to fix this! To Fix us!" It's funny you were holding onto him as much as your little frame could. You gasp and whimper out promises hoping for some forgiveness. Ford can feel himself falter for a moment.  He did miss you.  He misses the moments you two had shared. He misses your laugh.  You were so strange to him before, only to now become someone so comforting to him.  Can he trust you again? No. No. No. No. No. No. No! Ford, are you stupid!? Trust them the same person who is friends with him! They probably plan this together! Get you to trust them again then the next thing you know the end of the world is here! And they made you look like an idiot in the process!  Ford felt his jaw clench. Looking down at you hugging his chest, he thinks you look utterly ridiculous. You two must need him much if you resort to begging.  Pathetic.   "You know what I want you to do?" "Yes, please, anything!" You floated away looking at him with hope in your eye(s). Maybe the world not ending after all! "Get away from me and never come back.." and then, your world shatters.

When Bill found you after, you made hell look like a nice family vacation. You barely acknowledge him floating past him toward your room and gently shutting the door. 

This type of pain was familiar to you. It felt like you lost your home and your family all over again. 

What did you do wrong this time? 

Did you not pay enough attention to him? Maybe you should've brought flowers or maybe you should held his hand more. He did like it when you two did that…

You felt like hours so many ifs, so many mistakes, so many should haves. Maybe it is best if you stay away from him. Maybe it was always the best if you stayed away from him. He can't get hurt if you weren't there to ruin his life anymore. 

Yeah, that's what you did you ruined his life.

Bill tried cheering you up saying, that Fordsy hurt both of you and how you two should show him what is missing out. Like no one understood him as you two did. Then the camera pans over to the side to see the reader glaring at him like, "Are you serious?"

The urge to wrap their hands around Bill's non-existent neck was strong that day but, they surprised themselves by not doing it as soon as he entered the room. 

When Ford fell through the portal and started his journey through the realms the moment the reader found out they were fast to start helping him behind the scenes. From secretly placed supplies to oddly convent weapons or aid whenever they saw he needed it. 

When he found out, they bumped into each other in a random dimension. From their appearance alone he could tell they were going through some things. Bangs under their eye(s) and a hoodie that seems to fit their shapely body. 

The colors on their body were so dim like life was suck of them. They floated close to the ground to appear smaller than they were. No direct eye contact either. 

Ford can feel his finger twitch wanting to reach towards his laser gun. But with that look in their eye(s) he feels like he might not need it. But hey, it isn't bad to be safe right?  "Look, I'm not here to cause any trouble. Just came to drop off this and I'll be on my way…" You snap your fingers and an oddly placed item fell in his hands.  Wait this is.."How did you know I need this? And most importantly, aren't you supposed to be with Bill!?" He snarls.  "One, it may not look like it but I have friends in weird places too you know, and Two no, we're not friends anymore. We never were friends.." He saw how your body color changed to red and your eye(s) seemed to try and imitate a frown. "He lied to me…He lied to me this whole time and I…I just..!"  Breath In and Out Breath In…. And Breath Out… You relax the feeling in your hands and sigh. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you seeing me this way or at all, to be honest.." You made more space between you and Ford seeing him tense at your sudden outburst. By the stars! You already messed this up aren't you reader… "I know you have no reason to trust me and I get that! But we now have the same common enemy and I feel like we should work together.." Ford blink and you then blink again.  Are you joking with him right now? "No." "Come on just listen to me-" "You think I'm going to listen to you after everything that happened? What do you want me to make a deal with you too so you can use my body as a puppet in your stage play?!"  "No! For Fucks sake look at what he did to me!"  With that said the hoodie disappears and reveals cracks. He can see them up and down your 'chest'.  It reminds him of a cracked windshield one small tap and you just shatter right there.  "You think after this and all the other shit he put me through that it was still sunshine and rainbows between us! I'll give you a award for being my wake-up call, Ford. He never cared about me and now I have the proof to show it." Ford saw how you tried to quickly collect yourself again. Hugging your form and rubbing your arms. Another deep breath in…and another one out. "Now how about I say this again? Since I have your attention now. Do you want to work together to kill Bill?" 

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 047 - Sung Jinwoo Assassin Au Part 2 ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[tw: gore, extreme violence, sadistic Jinwoo]‼️

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 1 || Part 2♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Behold, The Emperor of the Dark Hours Returns] ¡! ❞

His name is like a prayer to the devil, a single whisper of his title and everyone would pale upon the mention.

He was the faceless monster of the underground, the lord who rules in the shadows.

Stand in his way and you are guaranteed a spot six feet under.

It's mercy if your death is but a single bullet to your head. Jinwoo's sadism is, after all, ruthless. Corpses of his victims were usually mangled or their heads bashed to the point of unrecognition.

A skull crushed into smithereens, brain juices oozing out of the deformed head— Sung Jinwoo was ruthless beyond human sense.

The Association doesn't know who this little serial killer is running ammock. Even their efforts to work with the police isn't working.

In the end, they had no choice to give up.

While Jinwoo? Jinwoo himself is having a field day on his end.

How long has it been since his blood had been pumping? He can't really recall himself.

Murdering monsters seemed to make him feel alive again, as debauched as it is— He honestly loved it.

He still accepts some assassination jobs on the side, but mostly he's just going into gates.

Jinwoo had long mastered the system, he's maybe an S-ranker now for the first few months he had gotten into this world.

Since he's just an E-ranked, he had lots of restraints on him. But did it matter? No.

Being able to face beings twice, thrice, quadruple of his size— It caused a thrill in his body that he cant really describe.

It's addictive, the rush of adrenaline into his blood felt gratifying.

Jinwoo knew it himself that he is a monster, but can he do anything about it? He's over 80 now atleast, all his life he's been fighting and killing.

The art of war is his true calling, as twisted that is— It's true.

But unlike then he now has his family. His mother may be in deep sleep but he also has his adorable baby sister that he missed dearly.

And now that he has them back Jinwoo isn't one bit hesitant to protect his lifelines.

But now it seems that a little bastard has decided to ogle over his precious little sister.

Jinwoo is no fool when it comes to people stalking around him and his home. It's one of the most important things he needed to hone in order to be an effective assassin.

So when he knew something up, he isn't going to let it slide any second further.

{....}

Crawling into the alleyway, the man heard that if he finds a certain door he can get into the apartment building. He already knew Jinah's apartment number.

He just wanted to say hi, nothing else.

Just a simple hello, he only wants to say hello. That's all there is to it really.

As he fumbled around on the doorknob next to the trash bins— He suddenly feels something yank his hair back.

He curses, groaning as the back of his head hits the wall.

"You motherfucker" He snarls, his eyes glaring up at the sight of a hooded figure lighting a cigarette. "You son of a bit— Ack!"

"Did I tell you to talk? Can't you see I'm lighting my cigarette?" Jinwoo asks, pressing his heel on the bastard's shoulder.

"What the hell did I even do to you, huh? You fucking jackass?" The man curses, attempting to move away but failed as Jinwoo remained unmoving while blowing out a coud of smoke.

"I've seen a lot of fuckers like you in my youth" He says boredly, "Of the thousand of heads I've embedded a bullet on, 80% of the targets are sick perverts ogling over things they shouldn't be drooling over."

He continues, playing a dagger with his hand before promptly stabbing it on the man's thigh. Jinwoo covers his mouth with his gloved palm to muffle the cry, unamused as he started started sweating and sobbing.

"Should've known that perverts like you still exist even here, I guess I became too happy go lucky huh?" Jinwoo scoffs, as he pulls his fist back. "Don't worry, I'll make sure my kids gobble your corpse up the moment I'm done with you.

{....}

"Oppa, welcome home!" Jinah beams as she sees her brother come in late while she was snacking on a shortcake her brother bought yesterday. "You out late again, were you seeing a girl?"

At her teasing, Jinwoo only shakes his head and smiles, he approaches his little sister and ruffles her hair up— Causing a whine to come out of her lips.

"No, just went out for a walk," He says gently as if he didn't pummel someone to death just minutes earlier and fed his corpse to his shadows. "Don't stay up too late, you have school tomorrow."

"I'm not a little kid!" Jinah playfully swats his hand away and stomps to her bedroom with his shortcake before stopping midway. "Oppa? Can you get more shortcakes tomorrow, please?"

"Pfft," Jinwoo shakes his head, smiling as he did so. "Alright, off you go"

He watches his baby sister's eyes glimmer sweetly before hiding back into her room.

Jinwoo's heart felt... Tingly. In a gentle and sweet way. The feeling of having someone greet him when he arrives home, the feeling where he knows someone is waiting for him to come back— It felt nice.

He'll protect this peace.

Until he can figure out a way to wake his mother up.

Jinwoo will continue to protect this home, and even after she wakes up— He'll make sure this home of his will be safe and sound.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: I just want this out of my hands please, I'm sorry that the plot is sloppy and rushed fjsglm,rlwef. I just genuinely want this out of my hands. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[vidavalor]

@tawnyontumblr I'm sure the scrappy Whickber Street residents will have some kind of role to play! And this is an example of how The Finale doesn't need to do any set up of new characters. We already have all we'll ever need in place.

@ao3cassandraic I was being more facetious than literal in the original post as I actually think "Go Team!" and helping Adam see what was coming at him is arguably the most important role on the tarmac in Tadfield but my point is that it takes a slew of characters to stop Armageddon with the supporting ones doing most of the heavy lifting when it comes to action, while Crowley & Aziraphale have less direct action but more symbolic weight to the actions that they do have.

I'm not sure that I agree with your idea that it was Crowley & Aziraphale who stopped a war between Heaven & Hell in S1. Beez and Gabriel aren't in charge of that war-- The Metatron and Satan were. It was a war that couldn't be had without Adam beginning it so it was really Adam who stopped the war by his refusal to start it, imho. It got delayed while they regrouped but it was mainly delayed because they had to figure out how it was supposed to go in the wake of Adam saying nah to Armageddon. We could maybe argue that Crowley & Aziraphale helping Adam against Satan helped Adam to see that he had the power to refuse? I tend to think that's a bit more Adam's innate personality, though. He didn't need them to be able to say that he has all the world that he wants.

In the bit you're talking about in your post, I think Crowley & Aziraphale basically find out from Gabriel & Beez that none of the four of them have any clue about The Ineffable Plan/Divine Plan/Great Plan. It's a shocking moment to Crowley and Aziraphale because, until this point, they had thought that Gabriel and Beez (or at least Gabriel) knew more than they did. I think that scene is more the start of the four main characters beginning to get closer to being on the same side than anything else. The war wasn't really stopped so much as delayed and Adam is responsible for that because Gabriel & Beez have to go back and figure out a new plan since the antichrist isn't playing ball. Crowley & Aziraphale indirectly helped Adam with Satan but I really think it's just Adam who stopped the war.

I think that "omg no one knows what The Ineffable Plan is" scene might also be likely to have a parallel scene coming back around pretty quickly because the fastest way for everyone to realize that The Metatron is a fraud is for them to collectively demand to speak to God. They're only going to think to to do this, though, once they've first asked Gabriel if he knows how to speak to God, thinking that The Supreme Archangel must, right? When Gabriel tells them he's never spoken to God and he doesn't know how to do so, they're all going to demand together that The Metatron go get God and, when he can't, rebel against him.

If you're talking S2, though? Crowley & Aziraphale could be said to have helped delay Armageddon: Round Two, though, because they are partially what inspires Gabriel and Beez to get together, which leads to Gabriel mutinying, which delayed Armageddon: Round Two long enough to bring us to the plot we're sitting in ahead of The Finale.

I find it really funny that people think that Crowley and Aziraphale have to personally stop Armageddon: Round Two in The Finale and have this really long and involved plot to do so. Armageddon: Round One was stopped in about eight minutes by a quartet of eleven year olds. Crowley and Aziraphale were also there, I suppose...

Crowley and Aziraphale's entire contribution was to roll in out of nowhere with four seconds to spare and be like "You, Antichrist Kid! Your bio-dad is literally The Devil and he's coming soon so think quick!" and then cheer Adam on. They both made it to Tadfield separately on a wing and a prayer at the last possible minute and their role was basically GO TEAM!!! while The Them actually saved the day. Newt did more to stop Armageddon: Round One than Crowley and Aziraphale did.

Yeah, that could be different in The Finale but I'd still wager that it's more likely that Crowley and Aziraphale are more the motivation that inspires the supporting characters to take more direct action than that they're the ones who take out Satan and The Metatron and save the world directly themselves. Their role is inspiring the other characters to see that a different world is possible and supporting them as they do. They've actually done a lot of that work already.

S2 seemed like it was setting up for this a bit. Uriel's refusal to kill Maggie and Nina and support of Gabriel in 2.06 indicates she's on our main characters' sides now. Jim + Team vs. Satan seems likely after the suggestion in S2 that Gabriel is the only one who Satan is afraid of, since they have equal power. And you know who I bet is going be the one who deals some extreme sanctions to The Metatron? Michael. I don't think she's going to take finding out that it's all been a sham very well. Plus? She is the duty officer. 😂

There's going to be plenty of time for Crowley and Aziraphale to reunite because the story really works out in spite of--and kind of because of-- the stuff they've fucked up, not because of the stuff they do particularly well. I think this will be true in The Finale, too:

[dunmeshistash]

Re: How Dungeons Work

While scolding Laios and Marcille, Flamela mentions that the Canaries would need to prepare a replacement Lord if Marcille wanted to step down. The Lion also mentions falling into the Canaries' hands, and after it is defeated the Queen seems to lament that the Magic/Spell That Grants Any Wish has been lost.

Maybe the Elves were using Dungeons to do something after all?

I find it interesting that the Queen's remark can be read as referring to the Demon itself as a kind of spell, almost like a construct or AI. Thoughts on that?

Lastly, the Ancients built the Dungeons as a counter to the demon's consumption of desires. Do you think they succeeded? Is there a way to use them safely? After all, the Ancients were destroyed by a wish/their own will, not by the demon's agency. Maybe they and maybe even modern Elves know how to act as Lord without getting eaten at all? It seems technically feasible from what we see, Thistle just sealed it away too late.

Hello!

Going by each question

I think they would need a replacement specifically in Marcille's case since she wants to step down, they cant move her to the surface because the dungeon is already spilling out. I imagine the subistitute lord is a temporary solution to remove Marcille from the Dungeon (someone with less destructive wishes)

I don't think the elves are doing anything with the dungeon from their track record, since they collapse dungeons, what Kabru dislikes is how they go about it (with no regard for other's), Utaya is an example of just how destructive Dungeons can be. (The canary plans are always to collapse dungeons and there's no hint about it being anything else is there?)

The queen is a weirdo, but to me the way she talks about it sounds more like a relief "'The spell that grants any wish' has been lost. there is time" as in that is no longer an impending danger for their world? EHScans even translates it as "we have the luxury of time"

In the world there's also no difference between the demon and magic itself, as we learn in chapter 87 the demon is magic given personality so she's not wrong to call him that.

I think the ancients succeeded in the sense that they managed to seal the demon inside dungeons, but they had the plot lost from the start, having all you wish for granted goes against being a living being, craving and wishing is part of living so it was doomed to fail as it did. The demon also doesn't understand ofc

As I said it goes against being human so I don't think it's possible at all to use the demon, you would end up just like the ancients wishing for everyone to die, the best example of why this would never work Kui gives us is the tale Laios tells in the nightmare monster tidbits

"One tires of happiness quickly, but tragedy is bottomless. Seeking further stimulation, it must be that the human heart compels the nightmares to create bad dreams"

The future the Demon wanted granting everyone's wishes would have probably also ended up in a living hell for them.

Also I don't think Thistle 'sealed him away too late', he kept deteriorating even after locking up the demon it seems. Marcille suffers from it too even after sealing him.

hope these answers helped!

[im-just-a-br0adway-baby]

Hazbin Hotel Headcanons

I thought I'd do a couple of my own Hazbin Hotel headcanons that have been stirring in my brain for the last few months. Some of these may have made an appearance in some of my previous fanfictions.

Charlie and Angel Dust both have the biggest stuffed animal collections at the hotel. They like to get into friendly, sibling-like competitions to see who has the bigger stuffed animal collection.

Building onto that, KeeKee and Fat Nuggets love to bury themselves in their respective owner's stuffed animal pile to see if they notice.

Alastor's favorite part of the nighttime routine is telling the everyone else stories about his childhood and when he was alive. Everyone else love his stories.

THIS ONE'S A BIT ON THE DARK SIDE, FAIR WARNING: Vaggie was a victim of the 27 Club

Angel's biggest turn-on is someone who is super passionate. The first time Husk kissed his neck, Angel got an instant nut.

Speaking of, the only reason Angel was acting so sexual around Husk during the first half of the season was because he didn't know how to flirt (or even talk to his crushes) properly. Since he's been working for Valentino for a while, all he knew was over-the-top sexual innuendos.

Charlie and Vaggie love to spend time alone in the lobby when everyone else is asleep watching some of Vaggie's favorite telenovelas that she used to watch with her abuela when she was a kid. Vaggie would translate for Charlie so she would understand what was going on.

This version of Heaven and Hell have all the same stores, restaurants, business, etc. that we do here on Earth, however, it can differ quite a bit. For example, there's not a single Chick-Fil-A in Hell, but Heaven has a Chick-Fil-A on every other block.

Lilith, Rosie, and Carmilla all have the stereotypical "mom cackle." They're already super loud apart, but if they were ever together, it would be OVER for Charlie and Vaggie and they would want to hide in a hole forever.

Lilith is just as silly as Lucifer and Charlie, she just doesn't show that side of her in public

Charlie, Lucifer, Niffty, and Sir Pentious are all autistic, however, in the case of Niffty and Sir Pentious, they were never diagnosed when they were alive given the time periods they lived in

The girls and Angel love to do sleepover nights in the lobby every month. Their sleepovers are filled with the most unhinged stuff you can imagine

The sleepover nights were Angel and Cherri Bomb's idea and Charlie loved it so much she followed through

Speaking of bonding, the crew's favorite bonding exercise? Improv nights! Everyone loves to play improv games, and it gets the energy up and everyone is super hilarious!

Although Vaggie is the one that volunteers to host because she's the only one that's not super big on being funny on the spot

[dark-dragon-8]

I want to write a supernatural fic where Sam still hunts while in college.

Like, hunting has always been such a big part of his life that he just can't live without it, especially when he knows other people are going to die and/or suffer if he doesn't help them.

I want Sam to be one of those students that you know never goes to any of the classes but almost always gets an A (or at the very least a passing grade) on all the exams/assignments (he both knows from experience and studies in his free time while on the road).

I want Sam to be the weird/cool guy at school that everyone theorizes about ["Do you think he has a girlfriend?" "He must be rich or something, how else can he afford to travel so much while still attending school" (he's not BTW) "I wonder who that guy that always drives him to and from classes/exams is" (that's Dean) "So he's a passenger princess" (they've never seen him drive), etc].

Everything about the show is the same (I might keep Jess alive though, IDK, like that girl who ends up having a crush on him so she's looking into him and finds out some stuff) except he's still in school and he & Dean always cover their faces/only Dean impersonates people (that work with the state/law & stuff) so that the authorities won't be able to connect things too quickly and ambush them while there's a test or something.

Sam is literally the cryptid of the school after getting his powers, like people literally see him get visions/mumble about future events in the middle of those rare lessons he comes to/exams/assignments.

After Dean becomes a demon, people start thinking he's his drug dealer and that they're a part of some Mafia group that needs a new lawyer/future new lawyer (hence why Sam is learning law) after they keep hearing hushed conversations where Sam practically begs this Dean guy to "Just please give it to me, please Dean I don't think I can take it much longer" (assuming "it" probably means like heroin or some other type of drug. Also how they finally found out Dean's name) and Dean begrudgingly handing him a small red vial and telling him he'll give him more, sometimes directly from the source (his wrist), later. Sam also starts bringing a second, smaller, steel water bottle to school after those interactions start but almost nobody notices (or they do and there are a thousand and one new conspiracies about it and what it means, after all, it could just be coffee for all they know, they can't be sure though, and they're too scared to ask whenever they do see him and he actually stays in school for a little longer instead of instantly leaving to go somewhere. So they don't really get the chance to ask him even if they want to).

They see him "give a random girl hickeys" in the alley right beside the school (he's actually drinking Ruby's blood after she got her throat slashed/slashed her own throat just a little bit so that they won't look too suspicious) and they think that's his GF. And then some other students see him doing the same to his drug dealer's (Dean's) wrist a few days later and they don't know what to think anymore [he was desperate (read; needed a boost before a stressful exam/lesson/finals week), okay? He wasn't thinking straight and all three thought it was at least somewhat okay as long as they were being careful].

One day, during a lesson because the others know he won't answer during an exam, Bobby (because he still isn't talking to John, fuck you John) is calling him, saying it's an emergency and that they need him there ASAP. He doesn't remember to control his reaction in front of the class and now everyone further believes that he's in the Mafia and that was his boss talking to him [they vaguely remember hearing him, quietly whisper, if they need him to bring his extra guns at the start of the conversation/if he needs to kill someone/if anybody died towards the end of it (all said somewhat casually, considering the situation, mind you)].

I imagine Gabriel coming over to fuck with him one day at the school and people thinking he's part of a rival group/family (that may or may not have joined Sam's own after betraying said family, depending on the timeline) based on their interactions. On that same note, I want Castiel to be like the boss's right hand/messenger and that their boss's name/title is God/the lord (if I was in that situation, I would think their boss is very narcissistic, but I won't say anything about it because crime and I don't want to die yet). And then when Godstiel comes around, Dean, who at this point knows way more than Sam about these rumors (because unlike Sam he's actually been around), makes him seem like their new boss (he might just use it to help him get laid, like in that one episode, but IDK).

I really want to write it, and I might just do it, I just need to finish the series first so that I'll be characterizing them correctly (these are all characters I already somewhat know about/saw) so we'll see if I remember it by then.

Feel free to use this idea but also I want credit/link to the story (mainly a link) if you do use it, since I want to read it regardless of whether or not I actually write this (knowing myself, I probably will. Like 78% will).

[inawickedlittletown]

Sooo I started to read other articles. I didn't after reading the ones that came out right after the episode that justifiably got everyone upset.

This one from tv insider had Tim saying this:

Moving on to Buck and Tommy’s breakup, talk about your approach to it. Why was Tommy sure that Buck would break his heart?

Tommy’s older and Buck is very new to this, and whether Tommy was correct or not, I think what he felt like was exactly what he said: I’m not your last, I’m your first, which is a special thing to be, but as Tommy says, it doesn’t usually end up being the same thing. And I think based on what we know of Buck, he’s maybe not wrong. Buck’s a little impulsive when he’s feeling a certain kind of way. He’s like, move on in, bring your couch. So I just think because Tommy’s a little older and wiser or maybe at some level he feels like he doesn’t deserve Buck, I don’t know. But I think he accurately diagnosed Buck. Buck’s still figuring himself out, and boy, that would be quite risky to move in with that guy as much as you would love to.

That does seem to be Buck’s go-to, which isn’t the best.

Exactly.

Are we going to see Buck single for a significant period of time now? Is he trying to figure out what he wants really out of a relationship?

Yeah, I think that’s right. As Tommy said, you’re still figuring yourself out, and his options have increased by 50 percent of the population. So knowing Buck, that’s going to be choice overload. He’s got to navigate that with a little self-awareness.

--

So they definitely planned for this. That's what this reads like...they wanted to break them up so that they could send Buck through a period of exploration. Tim says everything Oliver said here in much nicer terms. His view of Buck is so...Idk, it's like he sees Buck as a kid that still doesn't know what he wants. And he decided to put that view right into Tommy's head too. It's a little jarring I guess but this show...has it ever been consistent?

What sucks is that 8x05 was written like they were doing so well. And then right off the back with 8x06 we have warning signs in the date scene with the girl that approaches Buck and how Tommy sort of shrugs off Buck checking her out. I really do wonder where hot waiter fit into this and I'm so glad we didn't see Tommy like checking hot waiter out or something. But I guess that scene was there to sow the seeds. We have Buck spiraling because of the Abby thing and we have Tommy maybe not realizing but reinforcing for himself that he's a stepping stone for Buck and being okay with it in the status quo.

The way that Tim speaks about Buck asking Tommy to move in, he makes it seem like Buck is just barreling in without thought...like if they went through with it Tommy might be proven right. But then what is the point of the scene with Josh where Buck is right on the cusp of an "I love you" just to then be like no actually Tommy knows how this ends and he can read Buck and knows they're not forever. But Tommy is not a mind reader.

Where there is hope is in that Tim doesn't outwardly say anything about Tommy being gone for good. As someone else pointed out the Lou interviews were done by buddie journalists with a bias so there is a question to how much that colored what we got and why they were so determined to close the door fully. Also...why did we get exit interviews in the first place for a character that only had three episodes...it's so odd.

The writers made a point of leaving this open. Do I think we'll get Tommy back any time soon. No. But after the doom and gloom and the time to mourn this a bit I want to be positive and there is really no knowing. Tim says he thinks Buck will be single for a while...okay fine...picture that being the rest of this season.

Buck won't just jump into another relationship...and Oliver gets his Buck slut era 2.0...what if S9 brings back Tommy? What if this is the long game...or at least the thing they can have in their back pocket if Lou is available later on to come back. But that's not something they can promise or that they can commit to and Lou isn't on contract clearly and Oliver wouldn't know if that's the plan...hell even Tim probably doesn't know if they'll do that. Or I'm giving him too much credit because as we've seen this season storylines have been rushed to close up at breakneck speeds so it would be an anomaly for him to prolong something like this.

All this to say, showing the network and Tim that bucktommy matters to a lot of people and that Tommy matters...it may just make a difference.

[pomefioredove]

um um. the nbc boys with a reader thats smart and learns easily but has trouble keeping up with the school system(? for lack of better words). they get distracted and bored easily, forget about homework, doodle on their papers and stare out the window, etc. they get great test scores and do exceptionally well when they are interested in what they’re learning, but otherwise get burned out really quick. i don’t know much about your nbc but it seems like the system is pretty fast paced and doesn’t really leave room for mistakes! 🫶🫶 i love your designs for nbc so far. can already tell the readers gonna have a blast (and a migraine)

my first ever noble bell oc request... rubs my hands together evilly

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ no room for mistakes (noble bell college)

inspired by my AU

type of post: headcanons characters: rollo, original characters; pierrot, bou, phoenix, clodio additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

Rollo Flamme will arrange a precise time to study with you every day, whether you ask him or not. it's within his best interest that you succeed at Noble Bell (heavens forbid you're shipped off to a lesser, simpler arcane academy like that terrible Night Raven College), and so there will be no room for mistakes. this isn't something you should take for granted, either; Rollo is a very busy man, and to have an hour of his time for him to tutor you is a privilege. at least, that's what everyone else will tell you

to Rollo, this is nothing. he would make his whole weekend for you, if you asked. perhaps his whole life

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Pierrot Gregoire is probably the last person you should be going to for help. yes, he's exceptionally intelligent in the ways of history and literature, and yes, he could lecture you for hours longer than your actual professor does, but I doubt you would actually get anything but a headache out of it. he's a poet, not a tutor, and he has a tendency to talk himself in circles, go on tangents, anecdote about his personal life... yeah. it would take a special sort of mind to keep up with him, otherwise, you're probably better off trying to make sense of his unorganized class notes... which are just as full of doodles and daydreams as yours

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Bou de Neige is known for making harsh judgments about his peers... which are often accurate. and so he can tell, by the way you talk and articulate and express, that you're not a blithering idiot. you only lack the discipline that the typical Noble Bell College student has. and if it weren't for Rollo's faith in you, and his own damned pity, Bou would have been happy to let you fail...

...but he doesn't. he sits next to you in classes and pinches your arm when you're dozing off, or not paying attention to something important. he leers over you and corrects the mistakes on your homework before you turn it in. he begins carrying clean paper for you to doodle on, and insists it's nothing (it's so over for him)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Phoenix Bussiere is not what I would call a trustworthy tutor. he's not even a trustworthy student. oh, but don't think he wouldn't love to waste a few hours every week "helping you study" while he vandalizes 500 year old wood desks and falls asleep in the library. he's way too eager to volunteer. and how can you say no? his attention is highly valuable; the jealous glares of other students make that obvious. and perhaps you wouldn't have minded working alone, without anyone breathing down your neck... except he doesn't let you. he couldn't care less about the homework, but he'll ask you a thousand questions about yourself

...you can never quite tell if he actually cares, or if he's just passing the time

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

if you think Clodio LeFou would be the worst of the group, you'd be very wrong. is it chaotic? yes. but he'll teach you Latin while hanging upside down (and he's really quite good at it). he's managed to get by at Noble Bell without raising any eyebrows, after all, and his grades certainly reflect that. he'll act out your history lessons and critique your writing assignments like a professional. he'll make a puppet just to teach you math. it's unconventional, especially for Noble Bell, but it's much better than the dry lectures from your professors. you'll take what you can get

[leletha-jann]

This might not be an original observation, but I'm looking at Agatha's inner circle - her immediate family - and you know what all of them have in common?

Every single one of them has been so, so lonely.

Agatha, who grew up knowing she was broken, that she was fundamentally wrong in the very core of herself. And everyone else knew it too, and she was a pariah and an object of pity because of it. That she had been left behind like a burden, something useless, and been forgotten.

Krosp, who was a fugitive under a death sentence for being a "failed experiment". The King of All Cats - and the cats didn't care. Who had no one he could talk to or ask to care about him, no one he could trust without risking execution just for existing, and nowhere to go.

Gil, who thought he was no one, that no one wanted him - and who traded the first person who chose him for a name and a Spark that he then wasn't even allowed to have. That he had to keep lying to everyone about. Who wasn't allowed to be fully himself with anyone, ever. (And look at Agatha as she slides in and out of fugue state font, a difference people can hear, and think about how much control Gil had to exert, every single moment.)

Zeetha, who was a castaway in a place that didn't even believe her home existed, who couldn't prove anything except that she existed, and who was coming to believe that maybe she had made it all up. That she wasn't a warrior princess and a beloved daughter, and never had been. Just a stray with a story she'd made up, and all her legacy and skill good for little more than stage clowning.

Tarvek, who had no one he could trust, ever; who was trapped with a serial killer and a monster, lying for his life with every breath, with no way to escape a conspiracy that would spend him as a pawn or a corpse or breeding stock without a second thought, and call that family.

Violetta, who no one believed in, who was overlooked and dismissed and sent away; Tarvek counts her as the one person he did manage to protect, but Violetta knew that she'd been set aside and abandoned. Violetta doesn't even want Violetta, because what good has she ever been to anyone? Who's ever wanted her?

.

So goddamned lonely, every one of them.

.

...so yeah, I really enjoy watching Gil and Tarvek being referred to as Agatha's, as belonging to her, and watching them be content and confident in that.

But also seeing Zeetha find her joy and home and family in her exile, and Violetta flourish and be valued and happy (and tell the so-called family she's left behind to go to hell), and Krosp become a respected power in the world in his own right.

And Agatha, the last of the Heterodynes, surrounded by the family she's brought together.