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theonottsbxtch · 16 hours ago

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I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43

an: guys i’m so sorry for the atrocities i’m about to cause by posting this, i’m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they don’t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this

summary: for as long as she’s remembered she’s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesn’t know.

wc: 4.4k

She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fast—kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didn’t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.

She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself that’s just what friends did—waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. She’d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasn’t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.

Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what she’d always known—that Franco was going somewhere.

Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldn’t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasn’t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream he’d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Franco saw everything she wasn’t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies he’d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didn’t even seem real.

It was this girl—her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let it—who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that he’d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasn’t, but what good would it do?

It was easy to tell herself she was Franco’s friend. His best friend. The one who’d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. She’d learned to wear it like armour—the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.

No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.

The nights she couldn’t sleep, she’d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film she’d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person she’d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t hers. Not really.

Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and she’d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadn’t seen since they were kids. He’d been invited to join a Formula 1 team—a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.

And she’d been the first person he told. “I’m in,” Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “I’m actually in.”

He’d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her too—that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.

And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road they’d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.

“So… this is it, huh?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything she’d left unsaid.

Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin she’d fallen in love with a thousand times. “Yeah. This is it.”

There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didn’t, couldn’t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And that’s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.

“You’ll be amazing out there,” she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.

“Thanks,” Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didn’t see her watching him, didn’t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Because that’s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.

His first race was in Monza.

And Franco had made sure she’d be there.

The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Franco’s first Formula 1 race, the one he’d been chasing since the days they’d spent on that dusty street back home. He’d called her a week ago, saying he’d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldn’t feel right without her.

She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if she’d see him. But instead, she saw her—Franco’s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.

She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as she’d always done. But then Franco’s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.

“Hi! You’re Franco’s best friend, no?” she said brightly, as if she’d been waiting for this meeting. “Franco’s told me all about you.”

She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfect—too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girl’s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasn’t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.

“You know,” she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. “Franco always talks about how you’ve been there from the start. He says he wouldn’t be here without you.”

It was a sentiment she’d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. “He’s worked so hard for this. I just… wanted to support him however I could.”

The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. “That’s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone who’s known him for so long.” She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. “I think he’s planning to introduce me to his family soon.”

A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. “That’s great,” she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. “That sounds really important to him.”

The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. “Yeah… he said he wanted to wait until we’d been together for a year. He’s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.” She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. “I think he got that from you—from seeing how much his family means to you.”

It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldn’t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was just… nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.

“Well, his family will love you,” she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. “He deserves to be happy.”

The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knew—if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.

As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “For being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell he’s lucky to have you in his life.”

She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was true—but not in the way she’d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.

And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stood—at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.

The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. She’d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.

The evening had been a whirlwind—Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way she’d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. She’d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.

A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping you’d still be up.”

“Yeah, just… packing,” she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. “I’ve got an early flight back.”

He frowned, like he hadn’t expected her to be leaving so soon. “I thought you’d stay a bit longer,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”

She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. “I’m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.”

He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. “It’s crazy, right? Like, it still doesn’t feel real.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Oh—and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, I’m planning to bring my girlfriend—” he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared room—“back to Argentina. She’s going to meet my family. I think they’ll love her.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Why her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“Why her, Franco?” She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. “Why not me? What is it about me that you don’t find appealing? Am I too loud? Too… different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. “What is it about me that you don’t love, that you love about her?”

For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.

“Wait—” he started, his voice halting, uncertain. “I… I didn’t know you felt—”

She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. “I loved you first, Franco.”

He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.

“What?” he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.

“I loved you first,” she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didn’t want to cry, not now, not here. “Since we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. I’ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.”

She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love she’d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.

He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. “But… I love her.”

The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope she’d held on to.

She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.” She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldn’t contain. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could say—nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasn’t her.

“I never meant to… I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.

“It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. “I… I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that I’ve always been here. But now…” She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words she’d held for so long finally running dry.

She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.

When she noticed he still hadn’t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. “I hope she makes you happy, Franco,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Really. I hope she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

She looked back down not wanting to catch Franco’s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.

Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.

It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I almost forgot to mention,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, “Franco’s coming back to town soon. Said he’ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.”

She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since she’d finally let herself say all the things she’d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like she’d left a part of herself behind.

“Oh,” she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. “That’s… that’s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.”

Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughter’s casual words. “I thought maybe you’d be excited too,” her mother ventured, her voice gentle. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”

She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. “Actually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with Tía Blanca. I’ve been meaning to go see her.”

Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “You can’t keep running from this, mi amor,” she said, her voice tender but firm.

Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything she’d been trying so hard to let go of.

“I know I can’t keep running,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “But I can now. And I can cope with that.”

Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. “Mi amor, one day, you’re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. It’s the only way to truly move forward.”

She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Franco’s words—But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.

“Maybe one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to be—far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.

Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. “Then go,” she said, with a small, knowing smile. “But you’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldn’t say, she only hoped her mother was right.

A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her aunt’s place.

She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted it—Franco’s car, parked at the edge of the drive.

Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no… please, not now.” She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.

“Oye, there you are!” he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadn’t heard from him in years. “I was hoping I’d run into you before you left. It’s been too long.”

She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasks—closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.

He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his tone softening. “You… you didn’t answer my calls after Monza. I didn’t know if… I just wanted to see you.”

She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. “That’s great, Franco,” she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. “But I really should get going.”

“Wait—” He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. “Can we talk? Please?”

But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldn’t bear to stay, couldn’t bear to let him see her break again. “Take care, Franco,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.

Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.

But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of him—their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.

Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images she’d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams they’d both carried.

She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where they’d been inseparable, a past where she hadn’t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy she’d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.

By the time she reached her aunt’s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the city’s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.

Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.

“¡Mira! Is that really you?”

She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she remembered—warm and solid.

“Angelo!” She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.

He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. “Let me help. You’re here for a visit?”

“Just two weeks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain she’d left behind.

“Well, then,” he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, “we’ve got time to catch up.” His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.

She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her aunt’s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.

The door opened before they could knock, her aunt’s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. “There you are, mi niña!” She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. “And look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, you’re a sweetheart.”

He grinned, shrugging. “Anything for your family, señora.”

They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if she’d left more than just a town behind—she’d left the weight of everything she’d been carrying.

As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.

Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.

to be continued…?

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wasyago · 2 days ago

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Please more Trail's gone cold au I'm begging you I need it just pour out every thought in your brain I want to hear it

hgdhhfbd i mean, sure why not

everything plot related is in the main post, there's nothing else really to tell. but i could share random details that didn't really fit into the lore drop. again tho, it's a small au and mostly an exploration of the concept, so there's not a lot.

❄️ gem and etho are siblings, i don't think it was mentioned anywhere? blood related and all that, they both have black hair, gem just dyes hers.

❄️ behind the scenes reasons for the order of deaths. generally i picked these three to be the main cast because i suddenly realized pet crew were just dungeon master and his two winners, and that was too crazy of a concept to not do anything with? so, tango as the main guy and actual master of the dungeon had to die first, seeing how he's the cave's favorite. pearl as the main explorer and as the one to unlock all the secrets had to die second, because she had to return to the dungeon / the cave to find out the truth, and she conquered it but never actually got out. and etho had to survive, because he's the "proper" winner and the one who actually escaped the dungeon with treasures.

❄️ lore reasons for the order of infection. tango you already know, but pearl and etho went in at the same time so in theory they had to start experiencing the effects together. but because etho was wearing a mask it did lessen the amount of sculk he inhaled, slowing down the process. wear masks kids!

and, well, you did say you wanted to hear every thought so. i really like the plot point of them leaving tango to die, so im gonna ramble a little about it. even just, the difference in their views on the situation is so satisfying to me. because tango had no idea something scary was happening to him! and for pearl and etho it was a life or death situation. and just-- they were talking about leaving tango and tango obviously, obviously, protested, because what the actual hell??? yes okay he's ill and a burden, but don't leave an ill guy to freeze to death in a cave, what is wrong with them????? or, okay, what is wrong with etho, pearl was against the idea. but, straight up tango did not plan for it to end this way, he had his whole life ahead of him and so many things ha still wanted to do! of course he cried when they left, what else was he supposed to do? thank etho for his awesome decision? be all cool and stoic and sacrifice himself? hell no, he didn't want to die, he never asked for this.

he did die tho, so. whomp whomp 🎺... i imagine he passed before pearl and etho even reached the stairs, so at least he didn't suffer for long. if he had a breakdown about being left alone he probably hyperventilated and inhaled like a ton more sculk, so that killed him even faster. must've sucked tho...

and then pearl, god, pearl.... she didn't encounter any dangers on the way back, since she wasn't trying to escape and the cave had no reason to be hostile towards her. but seeing how she was at the last stage before turning... she probably didn't get to tango before collapsing... not dying just yet, but too feverish and too weak to walk. but if tango was already back, he could very much go and find her. can you imagine the pure horror of drowning in your regrets as you slowly die and then having your supposedly already dead friend appear in front of you all cheery and oh so wrong. i dont know how much of tango is left in that thing, but the image of him sitting by pearl and holding her until she dies is so-- its haunting but it's sweet. and then there's still enough time to catch up with etho.

actually, gahhhh, all three pet povs are their own unique horror story and it's so good.

the horror of having to go through this terrifying experience, and then being the only survivor, knowing full well that the only reason you lived is because you left your friends to die, and there's no way of fixing it now.

the horror of everything falling apart around you because of miscommunication, and then the one time you decide to do it right you end up regretting every single decision and witnessing the direct result of your mistakes come for you.

the horror of being stupid... the horror of losing all control over your life and being betrayed in the moment of your most vulnerability, dying fully and utterly helpless.

this au is so sad but i love it so much...

okay wow that's enough for one post, ask more if you want tho!

#trail's gone cold au #yagotalk

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hercarisntyours · 2 days ago

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pain

#this scene #it's the bullet to my heart #my getting shot in the shoulder and falling into the insides of my planet if you will #why is b127 piss yellow #yeah this scene destroyed me #actually US it destroyed us the oplita community is in shambles at this scene #SHE WENT. AFTER HIM. WHAT THE FUCK.#sometimes I think what would happen if b didn't stop her and then I remember the amazing Jade at @jadeandroses wrote an absolutely gorgeous #and heart breaking fic about it that I will threaten you to read “the only way to bring me down” NOW GO READ IT NOW 🗣🤬🤬🗣🗣#HOW DARE SHE GO AFTER HIM LIKE ELITA WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT ARE YOU INSANE WHAT THE HELL #LIKE GIRL DO YOU KNOW YOU'D DIE? RIGHT?? girl... WHY elita wtf do you WANT to break my heart into a million pieces #and make me spend hours analysing 5 seconds of a movie scene because if so mission accomplished #I have to point it out again BUT CAT!!! THE FIRST PICTURE!!! CATLITA!!!!!!!#elita one #elita 1 #transformers #transformers one #tf one #tf one elita #orion pax #tf one orion pax #B 127 #bumblebee #tf one b 127 #tf one bumblebee #also the guy behind do you think he was like #“oh FUCK oh shit is she going after oh well okay sucks for her.man today is a weird day for the high guard”

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zyafics-recs · 3 days ago

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reblogging comment review by @zyafics

i’m alive i’m here (i’m fulfilling my duties bc damn a bitch went offline for 9 days and is behind on everything 😭) ⬇️

You drifted to your room, collapsing onto the small bed. The familiar scent of home did little to soothe the ache in your chest. It didn’t feel right. It never did, only when your brother was around, but now, not even that thought gave you faith as you closed your eyes, picturing Rafe’s face. His smile, his touch, his voice – they were all painfully vivid.

ugh i miss ur writing sm i love how this scene felt “slow” like u were navigating this lagged moment with her because nothing felt real

As you both settled in, the familiar warmth of his presence was a small comfort, a reminder that despite everything, you were still here together.

i don’t give a shit the one thing i love more than romance stories is sibling relationships 😭 they’re my heart n soul

"He’s facing several charges, but the severity of his sentence could depend on his cooperation. If he agrees to testify against his father, the authorities might offer him a deal."

i fear he won’t do it 😭😃

“You’re too good, y’know that? Personally, I don’t give a fuck if he dies.”

jj 😭😭😭 leave her alone 😭😭😭

"Complicated? Complicated is being stuck on an island, wondering if your sister is alive or dead. Complicated is dealing with the fact that the guy who put us through hell gets to play hero for a day and suddenly he's got your sympathy."

screaming into my pillow ur dialogues r too good

A carbon copy of your mother, your punishment.

okay pause ✋🏼 not the thematic parallel to abusive and neglectful parental figures i cannot handle this

You were just trying to find a shred of humanity in someone who had shown you a glimpse of it.

THIS LINE EATS SO HARD 😭😭😭

“Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better?”

my jj would swing at ur jj for the way ur talking to ur sister

“Because I want to!” You screamed even though you hadn’t meant to. Tears of frustration fell as you raised your head, “And as far as I’m concerned, I’m still my own person and I can make my own decisions.”

PERIOD!!!!

“He was good to me.”

girl *I* held my breath

Sarah never pushed you to talk, never demanded explanations. Instead, she just sat with you, shared a laugh or two, and let the silence speak for itself. It was a strange comfort; one you hadn’t realized you needed until it was there.

i love ur sarah sm mines a bitchhh 🙂‍��️✋🏼

“No. Uh, a friend, I guess—” You were about to ramble, not too certain of what to say, but settled for, “Can you tell him Maybank’s calling?”

WHY DO I FEEL LIKE HIS PUNK ASS IS GONNA BE LIKE “i don’t know a maybank”

"I’m sorry. Mr. Cameron has requested not to speak with you," she said. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

YOU PUNK ASS BITCH

You screamed until your throat was raw, until you had nothing left to give.

no i didn’t (personally cannot scream LOL)

Six months had passed since that day

what the actual fuck

You had spent the afternoon alone, lounging in the living room with a half-read book and a broken fan that did little to ease the stifling heat.

such good imagery god i love this

Your words caught in your throat as you saw him standing there.

my heart is pounding omg

“You had six months.”

YIKES 😬

You looked at him, searching for any sign of deceit. His eyes were clear, more focused than you had ever seen them. “Why should I believe you?”

i’m shaking rn pls give a girl some respite

Rafe looked offended, eyes zeroing in on your lips before his gaze met yours. That's when you felt it again, “I never lied to you.”

i’m throwing punches into my pillow rn biting my teeth ohmygod

Rafe’s expression softened, and he reached out tentatively, his hand stopping inches from your arm. “I’m sorry, baby.”

go away demon 👹 @ gigi

It’s only then, when your brain cleared slightly that you noticed he looked different. His hair had been buzzed, his skin looked tanner than the last time you’d seen him, he looked healthier.

oh we’re in season 3 now ok

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

i’m literally scraping my fingernails against chalkboards rn pls stop this madness 🛑🛑🛑

Rafe paused in the doorway, his back to you. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried clearly through the thick air. "I don’t regret it," he repeated, his shoulders tensing as he spoke.

gonna die ok 🪦

You had tried so hard to suppress your feelings, to deny the depth of your connection with him. But this…wasn’t something that could be easily forgotten or ignored. You had been so afraid to admit it, fearing that acknowledging would destroy you.

You were in love with Rafe Cameron.

oh my fucking god u did it again

final thoughts — ohmygod. i dont know why i kept putting off reading this? i think a part of me was scared because the literal content warning was “aka angst” and i said no. anyways, first and foremost u done it again gigi. what i was so impressed about this chapter was ur ability to create such flowing, strong and long dialogues. the one between jj and reader i read twice because i can’t believe how naturally-paced this story goes through that u don’t even realized it’s chunks on chunks of dialogues. that’s such an incredible feat and knowing now that ur from europe and english is probably a second language? the way u select the right words at the right time is an talent i strive to have. i’m like re-editing in my head being like “would i come up with that?” and being like “yeah i would’ve ended it there (bc i don’t know how to elongate a scene) but gigi knew how to keep it going.” gigi, when i tell u that’s one of the most impressive skills i’ve ever seen in my life i’m so serious. also, the way you structure and keep a consistent flow of emotions. the beginning of the story is stretched out in a way that i cinematically imagined a lagged moment. yk how in euphoria where it drags a scene from one part to the next? like that. and then the ending, when i said i was shaking, i was truly shaking. u had my heart clutched in ur hand and u just SQUEEZED IT 😭 💔 the way i felt everything and was so scared and panicking and my eyes wanted to read ahead because i wanted to know what happens but i also wanted to enjoy the writing 😭 u got me doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out how to read 😃 i thoroughly enjoyed this to the very end and ngl, i am so scared to read the next chapter i think imma hold off for a min…

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - five

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

warnings: angst <3333333 for everyone <33; might need some editing bc im too tired to check everything but yeah

word count: 7.7k

The ride back to home was a blur. The plane ride, the ferry.

Everything.

Every mile that took you further from Rafe felt like a wound being reopened. The police officers tried to engage you in conversation, but your responses were monosyllabic at best. They eventually gave up, letting you stare out the window in silence.

When you finally arrived, the sight of the familiar streets of The Cut did little to comfort you. Your house felt alien, a place you barely recognized. The officers escorted you inside, their presence a reminder of the reality you were returning to.

“Your brother and your friends were rescued from a remote island a while ago. He was informed of your whereabouts an hour ago, he’ll be here soon.”

Their words barely registered.

You nodded numbly; your mind still stuck between the events that had unfolded just two days ago.

What kind of sister had you turned into? Barely phased over the fact your little brother was thankfully alive and well? You were supposed to protect him.

Sensing your detachment, they exchanged a look before retreating to the porch, giving you some semblance of privacy.

You wandered through the house, your steps heavy. Each room felt like a snapshot from another life. The couch where you and your brother used to bicker over TV shows when Luke spent days doing God knows what, the kitchen table where meals were shared and stories were told, only between you two– they all seemed like relics of a past you could no longer touch.

Things would never be the same, you knew that.

That must be your punishment.

A soft knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. You sat up, heart racing. Your body was still on high alert, every little noise sent shivers down your skin. The blasting of the gunshots was still deeply rooted in your brain. It hadn’t even been three days.

The old wooden door creaked open, and your brother's face appeared, bright blue eyes wide with concern. He rushed to your side, pulling you into a tight embrace nearly knocking the air out of your lungs.

"Holy shit,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “Holy shit.”

You clung to him, the dam breaking as tears streamed down your face. The sobs wracked your body as JJ held you like you used to hold him. It devastated you. It felt so disappointing. He was never supposed to be the one carrying the family burden, you were. After what felt like an eternity, you pulled back, wiping your tears. Your brother sat beside you, his eyes searching your face.

“You’re not hurt?”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words, but all you managed to blurt out was a small “No. You?”

“No,” JJ nodded, lips pursed into a tight line as if he was figuring out what to say next, “They told me about the shooting.”

Your heart sank further at his words. You had hoped to avoid talking about it, at least for a little while. But he was watching you like he used to when you would act as a human shield for him, you couldn't brush it aside.

“I’m fine, I promise.” You reached out and squeezed his hand. "What about you? How did you get off that island?"

JJ let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“It was a mess. We were stuck there for weeks, trying to find a way out. Pope and Kie kept us sane, but it was rough. We finally managed to signal a passing boat, and they rescued us. But the whole time, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

You squeezed his hand tighter, guilt and gratitude warring within you.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm so sorry, JJ."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, don't apologize. None of this is your fault. I—I should’ve saved you on that ship, okay? It’s on me, not you.”

You’d cry again if you didn’t feel like your body was about to collapse, “You did everything you could. We both did. It's not your fault."

“The one time we changed places, and I couldn’t do it.”

"Jay—"

"I should have been there for you," He insisted, "I hated it."

It was your fault, not his. You pulled him into another hug, trying to convey with your touch what words couldn't express. The weight of your shared guilt and pain was almost suffocating, but at least you were together. You felt his body shaking, whether, from exhaustion or emotion, you couldn't tell.

When you finally let go, you took a deep breath, hoping to find some semblance of strength.

"We’re gonna be okay.”

JJ nodded, though you could see the doubt lingering in his eyes. "I know. It's just... hard."

"I get it. But we're both here, we're alive.”

A small, sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

The two of you sat in silence for a while, it was a fragile peace, but it was something. The familiar sound of the waves crashing against the shore outside the window was a reminder that life continued, even when it felt like your world had stopped.

"Do you think things will ever go back to normal?" JJ's voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

If he only knew. The one time you managed to close your eyes and sleep you were plagued by nightmares of JJ finding out what you’d done. About you and Rafe. It made you want to scratch your skin raw.

“Yeah.”

You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, a mirror of your own fatigue. You knew you both needed rest, but the thought of sleep was daunting. The nightmares felt too close, the darkness too suffocating.

"Let's try to get some sleep," You suggested softly, though you weren't sure you could follow your own advice. "We both need it, ‘kay?”

JJ nodded, but you could see the wariness in his eyes. He laid down next to you, the bed barely accommodating the both of you.

As you both settled in, the familiar warmth of his presence was a small comfort, a reminder that despite everything, you were still here together.

The minutes ticked by in silence, the only sound being the rhythmic crashing of the waves outside. You focused on that, letting it be your anchor. Slowly, the tension in your body started to ease, the weight of the day’s events beginning to lift, even if just a little.

"Do you remember the first time we went out on the boat alone?" JJ's voice was a whisper in the darkness, a fragile thread connecting the past to the present.

A small smile tugged at your lips. "Yeah. You insisted you knew how to steer, and we almost ended up crashing into that sandbank."

He chuckled softly. "We were so scared. But you figured it out. You always did."

The memory was a bittersweet reminder of simpler times, a time when your biggest worry was navigating the boat, not navigating the chaos your lives had become. When you weren’t a complete fuck up.

Exhaustion finally began to overtake you, your eyes growing heavy. JJ's breathing evened out beside you, a comforting rhythm that lulled you closer to sleep. You wanted to tell him everything, but you couldn’t. Not without losing him in the process.

Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it was deep and dreamless. Completely void, much like yourself these days.

Morning came too soon, sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow over the room.

You blinked awake, disoriented for a moment before the events of the past days came rushing back. JJ was still asleep beside you, his face peaceful in repose.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake him. The officer who comforted you after the shooting promised to call as soon as he got an update on Rafe’s condition. And so far? No call.

You wondered if the hospital or the police had contacted Sarah. She was Rafe’s closest family, aside from Wheezie who was still a kid, and Ward who was a sought-out criminal. It made sense that they would reach out to her.

If you rang the hospital, they wouldn’t disclose a thing, you weren’t family, and it wasn’t like you could ask Sarah. She would know something was wrong the moment you asked about Rafe. It was risky.

The kitchen felt eerily quiet, the early morning light casting long shadows on the walls. You made yourself a cup of coffee, the warmth a small comfort against the chill that had settled in your bones.

Sitting at the table, you sipped slowly, trying to come up with some sort of tangible plan. You wanted to know if he was okay, needed to know, but every option seemed fraught with risk.

Your new phone buzzed on the table, jolting you from your thoughts.

You picked it up, heart pounding as you saw an unknown number flashing on the screen. You hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Hello?”

“This is Officer Thompson. I promised I’d keep you updated on Rafe Cameron’s condition.”

You closed your eyes, thanking God for finally giving you some piece of mind, “Yes, thank you.”

“He’s stable,” Officer Thompson continued. “The surgery went well, and he’s in recovery. It’ll be a while before he’s fully back on his feet, but he’s out of immediate danger.”

The knot in your stomach loosened slightly. “Thank you for letting me know.”

There was a pause on the other end.

“I know this is difficult, but you should focus on your own recovery too. There’s a chance the feds will contact you, they’re building their case on Ward. What happened to you is, unfortunately, considered a minor crime compared to everything he’s done, so maybe you’ll get some peace. If not, you might have to testify against him.”

The idea of having to testify against Ward made you uncomfortable to no end. Reliving those moments in front of a courtroom full of strangers seemed unbearable.

“And Rafe? What are his charges?”

"He’s facing several charges, but the severity of his sentence could depend on his cooperation. If he agrees to testify against his father, the authorities might offer him a deal."

A deal. It was a slim chance, but it was something. You hated yourself for the weight that left your shoulders. He should be locked up, you knew that, back then you prayed for the day he paid for what he did and yet here you were, holding on to any possibility of freedom.

You thanked Officer Thompson again and ended the call, setting your phone down with a shaky hand. The coffee had grown cold, but you didn't have the energy to make another cup. You sat there for a long moment, staring into space, trying to gather your thoughts.

The sound of footsteps drew your attention, and you turned to see JJ standing in the doorway, his hair tousled and eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Who was that?” He asked, his voice still groggy.

“Uh—Officer Thompson. He was at the scene the other day and told me he’d keep me updated.”

JJ tilted his head, his messy bed hair following suit, “Updated on what?”

“Rafe’s condition,” You replied, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. It was a half-lie. At least you were giving him something.

JJ stopped in his tracks, “And you care because…?”

“For closure, I guess.”

JJ’s gaze softened slightly as he walked over to the table, pulling out a chair and sitting across from you.

“You’re too good, y’know that? Personally, I don’t give a fuck if he dies.”

You winced inwardly. "JJ, you can't just say stuff like that.”

He leaned back in his chair, brows furrowed. "Why not? After everything he’s done, he deserves whatever he gets."

You couldn't argue with that, but part of you still felt the need to defend Rafe. He saved your life.

“He’s still a human being, okay?”

JJ scoffed, shaking his head. "Barely.”

You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so angry, so defensive. But it made its way up your body until your lips were moving again, practically spitting the words out.

“He saved my life.”

Your brother stared at you like you were speaking another language, “Saved your life? Are you serious? It’s his fault you were there in the first place!”

“He chose to help me. And I can't just forget that."

JJ ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated.

"This is insane. One good deed doesn't erase all the bad he's done."

You reached for his back, “I know that.”

He pulled away from your touch, your fingers only brushing against his shirt, “Do you?”

His retreat felt like a knife to your heart. JJ had always been your rock, the one person you could count on. Seeing him look at you with such disbelief and anger made you feel more isolated than ever. He looked at you like you’d imagined in your nightmares, but the real thing felt ten times worse.

"I’m not saying he’s a good person. I’m just saying… it’s complicated."

He paced around the kitchen table.

"It's not sympathy," You insisted, your voice rising despite your best efforts to stay collected. You never raised your voice at him. "It's just... I don't know. I saw a different side of him. Maybe he can change. Or at least help put Ward away."

JJ stopped and spun around to face you, his eyes blazing. "And what if he doesn't? What if this is all part of some twisted game for him? People like Rafe don't just change, okay? They manipulate, they hurt, they destroy."

“JJ—"

“You sound exactly like her.”

You didn’t have to ask to know what he meant. Suddenly your entire soul felt like it was being drained out and slashed into pieces.

You spent a lifetime hearing it, from Luke.

A carbon copy of your mother, your punishment.

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s exactly the type of bullshit she would spit out about dad, wasn’t it? And look where it got her.”

Memories of your mother flooded back. The excuses, the false hope, and the endless cycle of pain and disappointment. You weren’t her, were you? Holding out for a man who was never going to change, who would only inflict pain upon your life? It couldn’t be. You spent your entire life making sure you were nothing like her.

It wasn’t fair.

You weren’t making excuses for Rafe as your mother did for Luke. You were just trying to find a shred of humanity in someone who had shown you a glimpse of it. You stood there, feeling the weight of his accusation like a leaden cloak.

How could he think you were blind to Rafe’s faults? You knew them all too well. Standing there in the kitchen, under the harsh morning light, you felt exposed, vulnerable, and fiercely defensive.

“I’m not her,” You finally managed to say, your voice cracking, “I’m not defending him like she did.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better?”

Your eyes narrow into slits, “I’m not doing this with you, not right now.”

You turned away, your fists clenched at your sides as you fought to regain your composure.

He followed you hot on your trail, "Don't walk away from me.”

"I'm not defending him," You insisted, your back still to him, “I’m just trying to understand, okay?”

“Understand what? Jesus, Rafe is who he is.”

"And maybe he can change," You shot back, the words spilling out despite the tightening knot in your chest. "Maybe he saved my life because he wants to change."

"He's manipulating you," JJ retorted, his jaw clenched. "Just like he always does. You went through some traumatic shit together, but that doesn't mean you owe him anything."

You stopped dead in your tracks, turning to face him again. Your head was tingling, the headache already forming itself, and you felt hot all-over.

“Some traumatic shit?” You repeated, “Are you fucking serious?”

JJ raised both his hands, tangling them in his hair in frustration, “You almost died, and now you're here defending the guy who put you in that position?"

The accusation stung. You felt the heat rise in your chest. You hated fighting with your brother. You were letting your feelings for Rafe get between the two of you.

He shook his head, disappointment oozing from him in waves, "Good luck with that. Just don't expect me to sit here and act like everything's okay."

You blinked away the dryness in your eyes, "I'm not asking you to. Can't you see that maybe things aren't as black and white as they seem?"

“All I know is what he's done to us, to you."

"And what about what he did for me?" You shot back, the words bitter on your tongue.

“And what did he do exactly?" Your lips parted to speak, but words continued to spill from his mouth, “What did you do?”

You gave no reply, unblinking, short breaths escaping you. His accusation lingered in the air, challenging you to defend the indefensible. The truth was there, clawing at your mind, but you couldn't bring yourself to voice it.

Not to JJ, not yet.

"I don't expect you to understand," You finally said, voice strained, "But I’m not turning my back on him.”

JJ's eyes narrowed; frustration etched on his face. "Why?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to evaporate. For a moment, the kitchen was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing and the instant regret that filled your bones.

Finally, JJ spoke, his voice low and strained. "Fine. Do what you want."

You watched as he turned away, his shoulders tense with anger or disappointment – perhaps both. His footsteps echoed loudly in the quiet kitchen as he stormed out, leaving you standing there, feeling raw and exposed. It was the first time you had ever raised your voice at him, and the aftermath left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Alone in the kitchen, you sank into your chair again, your energy completely drained. Part of you wanted to run after him, to explain, to make him understand. But he never would. None of them would.

Because unlike you, they weren’t stupid enough to sympathize with Rafe Cameron.

Sitting there, you couldn't shake the feeling that you'd crossed a line, one you might not be able to uncross. You stared at your hands, still trembling from the argument, and let out a long, shaky breath. What was it about Rafe that had such a grip on you?

You heard the front door open and close, a clear sign that JJ had left the house. Maybe it was for the best, giving you both time to cool down. You got up to pour the coffee down the sink, the sound of the liquid swirling away a tiny comfort.

You spent the entire day locked away in your room, avoiding any kind of social interaction, or the sun. Your phone buzzed again, and for a moment, you considered ignoring it.

You picked it up, expecting another call from Officer Thompson, but the name on the screen made your heart skip a beat.

Sarah.

With a deep breath, you answered. “Hey sweets.”

“Hi,” Sarah’s voice was almost unsure. “JJ and the police called earlier, told us what happened. Are you okay? I’m on the mainland with John B, we’re taking the next ferry back home.”

You closed your eyes, somewhat relieved that you wouldn’t have to face them yet.

“Yeah, I’m…Managing. I'm okay.”

“Good, that’s good,” There was a pause, and then she asked, “Have you heard anything about...Rafe?”

Had the hospital not called her? The question hung in the air. You had, but you didn’t know how much to share.

“He’s stable. The surgery went well.”

Sarah sighed, “Good. That’s good to hear I guess.”

“Sarah,” You began, hesitating. “Did the hospital call you?”

There was a long silence on the other end before she replied, “Yeah. But I…I don’t know. I just couldn’t bring myself to answer. I knew it was coming after the police called. But—Yeah, it’s just, it’s really hard.”

You didn’t know what to say, “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re the only one not giving me shit about still…caring? I guess. He’s my brother, you know? And I want to hate him, so bad, but I can’t.”

"I get it, Sarah. He's your brother. It's okay to feel conflicted."

"Yeah," She exhaled heavily, "But I don't know how to deal with it. He's done so much harm, and yet. I keep hoping there's still some good left in him. I know there's no hope for my dad, but Rafe..."

She had seen him before Ward turned him into this. She still carried the guilt of reveling in their father’s approval, the clear favoritism that she never stood against for her brother, even though she could see her father’s fingers printed on Rafe’s cheeks.

Her words echoed your inner struggle. You understood her—how love and hate could coexist in such a tangled mess when it came to family.

“He was good to me.”

There was a long pause.

You expected her to hang up on you, to call you a list of degrading names, all of which you felt you deserved. She had suffered deeply at the hands of her brother— the same brother you had come to care for, despite knowing the full extent of what he’d done.

But you underestimated her.

Caught between your own anxiety and the dread of truth being exposed, you momentarily forgot just how compassionate and noble Sarah was. She possessed a goodness that mirrored your own—loyal, forgiving, and endlessly understanding.

Both lovers and fighters.

"I know, the feds told me about the shooting," Sarah finally said, "And I think that's what makes it so hard. Picturing him as the same monster from before was a lot easier.”

You nodded even though she couldn't see you, feeling a deep ache in your chest. "Yeah."

"I don't know what to do," She confessed, her vulnerability cutting through the distance between you. "Part of me wants to see him, to talk to him. And part of me wants to never look at him again."

"I think... whatever you decide, it's okay," You offered tentatively, not entirely sure if your words were comforting or just empty platitudes.

“John B disagrees.”

“Yeah, so does JJ.”

"I appreciate you telling me about Rafe," Sarah continued, her voice softer now, more vulnerable. "I... I don't think I could have handled hearing it from anyone else."

You felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry you had to hear it like this, sweetheart. I wish things were different."

"We all do," she replied softly. "Thank you.”

“Of course," You said, "Take care of yourself.”

"You too. We'll see you soon, okay?"

"Yeah. See you soon."

The call ended, and you stared at your phone for a long moment, the screen dark and lifeless, much like yourself lately.

You spent the next few days in a haze, avoiding JJ and the rest of your friends as much as possible. You’d only seen Sarah. Somehow her presence didn’t make you feel as nervous as you thought. It weirdly calmed you down. You’d always been close, ever since she joined the group, but now you felt like she was the only one who understood your point of view.

You knew Pope and Kie wouldn’t, and you couldn’t blame them.

The small house felt like a prison. It wasn’t until a week later, as you sat on the beach watching the waves crash against the shore, that your phone buzzed with a message. It was the officer: "Rafe’s awake."

Your heart leaped into your throat. You still hadn’t told anyone the full extent of what had happened between you and him, and you weren’t sure you ever could. They knew he was in the hospital, that you two had gotten caught in a shooting, that he’d somehow saved your life. That was it. But now, with him awake…You didn’t know what to do.

With trembling hands, you dialed the number the officer had provided. After a few rings, someone answered.

"Hello, this is St. Michael Hospital. How can I help you?"

You snap out of your daze, "Hi, I'm calling to check on a patient, Rafe Cameron. I was told he’s awake."

There was a pause, the sound of keyboard keys clicking. "Yes, Mr. Cameron is awake. Are you a family member?"

“No. Uh, a friend, I guess—” You were about to ramble, not too certain of what to say, but settled for, “Can you tell him Maybank’s calling?”

“Okay, just a minute please.”

The hold music was the only thing keeping you centered on the moment, each note heightening your anxiety. When the nurse returned, her tone was pitiful, and you knew then that you weren’t going to like her answer.

"I’m sorry. Mr. Cameron has requested not to speak with you," she said. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

You wanted to hurl the phone into the ocean, plunge your head underwater, and only resurface when the ringing in your ears ceased.

What the hell?

You had spent weeks on edge, consumed by thoughts of him, hoping he would survive, praying for him despite not believing in that sort of thing. You didn't have it in you to put up a fight.

"No, that's all. Thank you." You ended the call and stared at your phone.

Rafe didn’t want to speak with you.

You felt foolish, as if you were just now glimpsing the bigger picture and recognizing that maybe he didn’t care after all. Perhaps, on the island, you were the one thing keeping him grounded, but now? Now you were back to being a nobody, just a pogue.

It felt like everything you had shared was for nothing.

Had you imagined it? No, you knew you hadn’t.

Rafe had kissed you and touched you with the tenderness of a lover, as if you were precious and any rough movement might break you.

The moments you had shared, the way he had saved your life—maybe they didn’t mean as much to him as they did to you. The bond you thought you had formed with Rafe was, perhaps, a desperate attempt to find something good in the chaos.

The waves crashed against the shore, the sound a distant roar as you sat on the sand, a storm brewing inside. You tried to hold it together, to keep the facade of normalcy for a little longer, but it was getting harder with each passing day. This felt like it was the final straw.

Without warning, a scream ripped from your throat, raw and unfiltered. It echoed across the empty beach, a primal release of everything you had been bottling up.

The anger, the confusion, the hurt—it all came pouring out in that one moment. Tears streamed down your face, mixing with the salty sea breeze.

You hadn’t cried properly in weeks.

You screamed until your throat was raw, until you had nothing left to give. The sun cast long shadows on the sand, the beach deserted except for you. Collapsing back onto the sand, you let the tears flow freely.

There was no one to judge you, no one to see you fall apart. You’d spent a lifetime pulling yourself together, it was only fair you finally got to breathe properly. When the tears subsided, you wiped your face with the back of your hand and took a shuddering breath. The tightness in your chest began to ease, replaced by a hollow ache.

You were many things, but none of them were weak and yet...It was almost unbearable, the way your mind replayed every interaction, every look, every word, searching for signs you might have missed, clues that would have warned you not to get attached.

The sound of footsteps in the sand pulled you from your thoughts.

You turned to see JJ approaching. Your heart sank; you weren’t ready to face him after the argument. He sat down next to you, silent for a moment as he followed your gaze out to the horizon.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you expected.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry for what I said about Mom,” he continued, his tone filled with regret. “I shouldn’t have compared you to her. That wasn’t fair.”

You swallowed hard, the tension easing slightly from your shoulders. “It’s okay, JJ. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I did, and I didn’t,” he admitted. “I just... I don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t trust him, and I hate that you’ve been caught up in all this.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

He glanced at you, eyebrow raised. “What do you mean?”

“I called the hospital. They said he’s awake, but he doesn’t want to speak with me.”

Your brother frowned, his protective instincts flaring up. “That fucking asshole. After everything—”

You shook your head, cutting him off gently. “Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe he’s right.”

JJ’s expression softened, and he reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. You did nothing wrong.”

A lump formed in your throat, but you nodded, trying to believe his words. “I just... I thought there was more to it. That maybe he could change.”

“People like Rafe... it’s hard to change.”

“Yeah.”

“But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong for wanting to see the good in him.”

He spoke with such gentleness and wisdom. You forgot he wasn’t a kid anymore. That he’d also done his fair share of growing up way too fast.

You leaned into his touch, “I know.”

“We’ll get through this,” JJ said firmly. “Together. You and me, like always.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the beach, you and JJ sat there in silence. The waves continued to crash against the shore, a reminder that life moved forward, even when it felt like everything was falling apart.

Maybe things would never go back to the way they were, but you had your brother, your friends, and a resilience you hadn’t known you possessed.

⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Six months had passed since that day.

Life had settled into a fragile semblance of normalcy. The days were longer now, summer heat pressing down on The Cut, making the air thick and heavy. You had spent the afternoon alone, lounging in the living room with a half-read book and a broken fan that did little to ease the stifling heat.

You were lost in your book when a loud, insistent banging on the door jolted you from your reverie. Few people would knock with such urgency.

The forceful banging on the door didn’t stop and you jolted upright.

Without thinking, you got up and flung the door open, irritation flaring. "What the f—"

Your words caught in your throat as you saw him standing there.

"Rafe?" You blurted out. You immediately tried to close the door in his face, but he was quick. His hand shot out, holding it open, "Are you kidding me?" You hissed, pushing harder against the door.

"Maybank—"

"If you don't get off my property, I swear to fucking God—"

"Wait!" Rafe's voice was strained, his hand trembling as he held the door open. "Just listen for a second."

You glared at him, every instinct telling you to push harder, to shut him out. But something in his eyes—fear, desperation, a flicker of the Rafe you once knew—gave you pause.

The last time you saw him, he was bleeding out and terrifyingly pale.

The last update you had on him was from Sarah, months ago. He had left the hospital and kept sporadic contact, reaching out to her only every few weeks.

You never asked her about his well-being or what he was doing; despite guessing that he was cooperating with the police. At least you hoped he was.

You were determined not to care anymore.

He leaned his weight against the doorframe, “You look good.”

You were going to slap the lack of common sense out of him.

You scoffed, not letting your guard down. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down, struggling to find the words as he scratched the back of his head, “I... I needed to see you. To talk.”

“And I need you to crawl back to whatever hole you just creeped out of, have a good day.”

You tried to push the door shut again, but his grip tightened. “Please, just give me a minute.”

“You had six months.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I was— It’s messed up, okay? I’m still working with the feds. I was losing it. Still am, probably. But I need to explain. Please, Maybank, just a minute.”

You hesitated the anger and hurt battling against the small, lingering part of you that still cared.

Finally, you stepped back, letting the door open just enough for him to enter.

“Talk,” you said, your voice icy.

Rafe stepped inside, looking around your small living room as if seeing it for the first time, which you now realized he'd never been in your house.

He turned to face you, his expression earnest. “I didn’t know what to say. I felt—“, He took a deep breath, cheeks puffing, “Ashamed. I don’t know.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, keeping a safe distance between you.

“Ashamed? You’ve done a lot of things to be ashamed of. You can’t just show up after six months and expect everything to be fine.”

“I know,” He admitted, taking a deliberate small step closer to you, “I wasn’t expecting that. I just... I wanted to tell you that I’m trying. I’m in therapy and rehab, trying to get clean. I’ve been going to meetings. It’s been hell, but I’m trying.”

You looked at him, searching for any sign of deceit. His eyes were clear, more focused than you had ever seen them. “Why should I believe you?”

He took a deep breath, visibly struggling to find the right words.

“Because you’re the only person who ever saw anything good in me. And I can’t forget that. I don’t deserve it, but I need you to know that your faith in me wasn’t for nothing.”

The vulnerability in his voice took you by surprise. You had expected anger, arrogance, manipulation—but this was different. Genuine. It felt like you were back in that motel room, in his arms.

You let out a scoff, focusing your gaze on the couch you were just resting on, as you shifted your weight on your feet. “Is that all?”

Rafe's eyes darted to the floor, “No, it’s not all. I just—Shit. I need to make things right. With you. I don’t know how, but I need to try.”

You took a deep breath.

Part of you wanted to believe him, to give him another chance, but the other part of you—the part that had been hurt and abandoned—was screaming not to fall for it again.

“You didn’t even want to talk to me when you woke up.”

He looked up, guilt etched across his features. “I didn’t know how to face you after everything that happened. I was a mess.”

“So you shut me out?” You snapped, “You made me feel like I meant nothing.”

“That’s not true,” He snapped back, head whipping up, then immediately softened his tone, taking another step closer. “That’s not true. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I was getting better for you."

“Don’t lie to me.”

Rafe looked offended, eyes zeroing in on your lips before his gaze met yours. That's when you felt it again, “I never lied to you.”

“Cameron.”

Another step closer. His eyes pleading with you to understand.

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

"I never lied to you," He repeated, his voice shaking slightly. "I was scared and confused, but I never lied.”

You felt your anger rising again, every muscle in your body tensing as you tried to keep control. “Scared and confused? That’s your excuse?”

Rafe flinched at your words, but he didn't back down. “I know how it sounds. I handled it all wrong. I’m trying to fix it.”

“You think saying sorry and showing up out of the blue makes it better? It doesn't erase the months of silence.”

His hands reached out, his palms open as if he was dealing with a wounded animal. “I’m not asking for forgiveness right away. I just want a chance to make things right.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You spat, your voice trembling with emotion, “How it felt, watching you almost die. I spent days wondering if you were going to be—”

You stopped yourself, knowing that if you continued your voice would crack and the tears would start pouring down your cheeks.

You already cried enough for him.

Rafe’s expression softened, and he reached out tentatively, his hand stopping inches from your arm. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You took a step back, putting more distance between you, needing the space to think clearly. “I needed you to be sorry six months ago.”

It’s only then, when your brain cleared slightly that you noticed he looked different. His hair had been buzzed, his skin looked tanner than the last time you’d seen him, he looked healthier.

Rafe noticed your eyes wandering to his head and ran a hand through his short hair, a hint of a self-conscious smile flickering across his lips. “Yeah, I uh, made some changes. Trying to start over, I guess.”

You nodded slightly, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Finally, you broke the silence, your voice steadier now.

“I’m happy for you, but I can’t do this.”

“Pretty—"

You sighed, rubbing your temples as you cut him off, “I feel guilty enough as it is around everyone else.”

“I told Sarah.”

His words hit you like a punch to your gut.

“What?”

“About us.”

You felt your stomach drop and your vision narrow, the world tilting sideways as the reality of what he just said sank in. “You what?”

“I told her.”

“You absolute fucking—” You hissed, your voice rising without warning, “Are you serious?!”

“I thought it was the right thing to do,” His tone faltered to one that could’ve fallen on deaf ears if not attentive enough. “I needed someone to talk to, and she’s…my sister.”

“You thought it was the right thing to do?” You were shouting now, unable to contain your anger. “You think spilling everything to Sarah was the right thing to do? Did you ever consider how that might affect me? Or her?”

Rafe flinched, taking a step back. “I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“Of course you didn’t,” You nearly growled, pacing the small living room. “You never think about anyone but yourself, do you?”

“Listen— “ He opened his mouth undoubtedly to fire back with another half-assed apology - but you barreled forward, letting the months of bottled resentment continue to burst open.

“You’re so selfish.”

“She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone,” His throat bobbed in an audible gulp, “It’s okay.”

“You really believe that?” You stopped pacing and turned to face him, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “This is too much for her to keep to herself. It’ll eat away at her until she tells someone. And when that happens, my life here is over.”

Rafe looked stricken, his face pale. “I just—I needed someone to understand what I’m going through.”

For the first time, he took the time to explain what was going on in his head instead of letting his frustrations take over and kissing you.

“And what about what I’m going through?” You demanded. “Did you ever stop to think about that? I’ve been trying to move on, to rebuild my life, and you just waltz back in and blow everything up.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

You spotted his sun-kissed freckles. They wouldn’t be noticeable if you hadn’t looked at him so closely before.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” Bitterness began to overpower the pit of your heaving chest, “Sorry doesn’t make it go away. You can’t just undo what you’ve done.”

“I know,” One shaky hand scrubbed over his face, refusing to meet your wide-eyed stare., “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I swear.”

“Make it right? You can’t make this right, Rafe.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m trying, pretty. I really am.”

You felt a smidge of sympathy despite your anger. You could see the pain and desperation in his eyes, the same pain and desperation you had felt for the past six months. But that didn’t change the fact that he left you hanging for so long.

“I need you to leave,” you said finally, your voice cold and distant.

You expected him to put up a fight, to lash out, hide his emotions with empty threats and petty names. But he didn’t.

Instead, he nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he turned to leave. You watched him go in silence.

Part of you wanted to run after him, to give him another chance, to believe that he could change. But another part—the part that had been wounded and left to heal on its own—knew that it wasn’t that simple.

You had to protect yourself, even if it meant shutting him out for good.

Rafe paused in the doorway, his back to you. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried clearly through the thick air. "I don’t regret it," he repeated, his shoulders tensing as he spoke.

You blinked, taken aback. "What?"

He turned slightly, just enough for you to see the raw honesty in his eyes. "I don’t regret what happened. Between us. I regret how I handled it, how I hurt you, but I don’t regret feeling something real for once."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the suffocating heat seemed to dissipate, replaced by a cold clarity. You crossed your arms tighter around yourself, trying to hold onto your anger, your resolve. But his words had hit a nerve, bringing back memories you’d tried so hard to bury.

You looked away, unable to look at him, "It doesn’t change anything."

"I know.”

With that, he turned and walked out the door, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving you standing there. The room felt emptier than it hand in months as you leaned your forehead against the cool wood over the door.

You pushed away from the door, needing something to distract yourself.

You picked up your book, but the words blurred on the page. You tossed it aside, your thoughts too chaotic to focus. Instead, you paced the small living room, replaying the conversation in your mind.

You eventually collapsed onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. You did the right thing, so why did it hurt so bad?

You felt like a wound had been reopened, and you hated him for it.

But you hated yourself more for letting him get to you. The hours dragged on, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting long shadows through the windows. You tried to lose yourself in anything—TV, reading, cleaning—but nothing could shake the gnawing feeling of unresolved problems that clung to you.

You only saw Rafe's face, his desperate eyes, his trembling hands.

You remembered the feel of his skin, the sound of his voice when he was vulnerable. The memories were too real, too persistent. You couldn't bring yourself to explain it to yourself. Your eyes begin to itch, warning you to think of something else.

Anything else but Rafe.

Was this heartbreak? No—it couldn't be.

You weren't in love with Rafe Cameron.

At least, you didn't think you were.

You had never allowed yourself to consider it, to dwell on what you felt for him. But now, in the stillness of your small living room…it was different. You never had a good parental figure to teach you these things.

All you knew was destruction, violence, and heartbreak. And although you’d done pretty well for yourself, all things considered, this was new to you.

The thought hit you like a tidal wave, overwhelming and inescapable.

You were in love with Rafe Cameron.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron (by @itneverendshere)

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fancyfeathers · 2 days ago

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With the bat family daughter darling, did she already go to the same Gotham rich kid academy or did Bruce have her transfer there?

Referencing this post

Nope, her mom left Gotham before she was born traveled for work so she went with her so essentially she grew up around the world with maybe one or two homes in some place like New York or Singapore where they would stay for longer periods (1-3 months) when not traveling, with a tutor/governess teaching her. Like when her mother was originally engaged to Bruce he was more wealthy than her but she certainly has quite a bit of money to her name, like think Astrid Leong from Crazy Rich Asians, like the the first scene we see her in she buys earrings in Shanghai that cost 1.2 million (at cost), she has money.

Now I think Bruce would want her to attend a private academy, especially with Damian (despite the fact that she is terrified of him, it’s good sibling bonding). Now this could go one of two ways, she wants to go or she does not.

The first of two is if she might not be the best behaved and school would be her only way of socializing with other people her age, she is in a different class than Damian since he’d probably be older than her so he is not there to watch her every move throughout the day despite how much he would try to.

The other way is that she would not want to go to school there, like I mentioned earlier her and her mom had houses in New York and Singapore and while NYC isn’t too far away from Gotham, Singapore is and she has friends in both places and if she went to regular school it would be harder for her to see them when their own families were in town for business or if some good grace allowed it, being able to go back to see them.

Now the second option is very much less unlikely unless there is some serious good behavior from both of the darlings, mother and daughter. Bruce could certainly be convinced, especially after seeing his little girl’s wide smile when she finally gets to see her friends at the wedding of her parents.

Now her brothers certainly would not be happy, namely, and in order of how upset they would be, Damian, Dick, and Tim (Jason would not care enough that it would be a major issue for him).

Damian is very much that scary big brother that scares everyone away, there is no way he can look after her if she is with a bunch of people he’s never met besides maybe once or twice tops.

Dick is clingy, he doesn’t think his baby sister old enough to have friends outside of her family (ignoring the fact that she was raised by her mom and these are the kids she grew up with), he knows she doesn’t like his company much but to see her actually enjoy herself around people he does not know, it gets under his skin.

Then Tim, he has looked into everything about both of their darlings, he knows all about her friends, he knows those friends’ parents are friends of her mother, he knows of those parents and their sketchy business deals that come with most other socialite circles, and Tim certainly does not approve of them because children could turn into into their parents, he just doesn’t like the way it sits with him.

So while Mother!Darling tries to convince Bruce of allowing her to homeschool Daughter!Darling, the little girl is in the other room playing, pretending her old friends are with her.

#yandere dc x reader #yandere dc #yandere justice league x reader #yandere justice league #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere batman #yandere batman x reader #yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere batfamily #platonic yandere batfamily #platonic yandere dc #platonic yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake

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chrissv4mp · 9 hours ago

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𐙚 ᯓ stupid crush — ᡣ𐭩

she didn't understand why she felt like this, why she felt so... warm. especially when you were around. any time you even came within a 5 feet radius of her, she'd feel like she was going to explode. her cheeks would heat up, and she wouldn't know how to act, what to say—she didn't even know how to breathe when you were around her. which reminded her... you were lying right on her chest, and that only made the struggle to breathe worse. she hopes you didn't notice, but with the way your hand ran across her stomach so often, she was sure you might've caught on earlier than she expected. billie had been the one to invite you over after you got off your shift, and you happily accepted her invitation because she was never really the one to ask.

so, here you were, your bodies laying on her bed as a song from your shared playlist plays at a low volume from the speaker on her nightstand. the rain from outside hit her window, the quiet pitter-patter noises making the whole scene complete. it was something straight out of some classic friends-to-lovers film. her bedside lamp was on, lighting the room up just enough so that you could see her face and she could see yours. she was counting each of the little freckles on your face as you shut your eyes, relaxing into her. she ran a hand through your hair, her fingers scratching your scalp so softly, so carefully as she lulled you even further into a sleepy state of mind. she was praying you didn't hear the fast beating of her heart as she held you, not moving too much because she was scared that she'd do something wrong and you'd leave.

she grabbed her phone from her pocket, careful not to make too much noise as she unlocked her phone and went into her voice notes. she was sure you were asleep by now, your gentle breathing and quiet demeanor, a crystal clear sign. but, as she played the most recent one, titled 'stupid crush,' she regretted not making sure that you were actually asleep. her voice erupted from the speaker on her nightstand, and the first words that were heard were, "this is fucking stupid. i... love y/n. there was that—?" until billie finally came to her senses and paused it, the music resuming almost immediately. if her heart wasn't racing, it sure as hell was now. you stirred in your... sleep?—daze?—she didn't know, but now you were looking directly into her eyes with the... softest expression on your face. your eyes spoke for you, but billie was sure she was misreading the smile that began to creep onto your face. you were going to laugh. make fun of her—

"what's so 'fucking stupid' about that?" you giggle softly, voice slightly raspy and eyes glossed over with multiple emotions. all of which were for billie to decipher because she knew damn well she wasn't gonna get any answers from between your pretty pink lips until she finally admitted her feelings. but she didn't know what to say, and not even the music playing softly in the background calmed her anymore. she shut off her phone, tossing it to the empty side of the bed as she gulped quietly, "tell me, i'm quite interested." you sat up, sitting on her lap as you always did because you could never not be at least somewhat in her personal space. maybe that's part of what helped develop her crush on you. her stupid crush. on you. her best friend, of all people. she cleared her throat of the suffocating feeling as she sat up straighter, body tensing as she hopelessly murmured, "because you're my best friend. we're—y/n, we can't be—"

"who says we can't be together?" you scoff, a half-amused, half-annoyed look on your face. when she blinked, it was like you were a million miles closer to her, your lips inches apart, breath fanning over her face. she gulped again, eyes scurrying over to the empty side of the bed, biting on her lip nervously as she tried to think about what to say. it wasn't like she didn't want you to be her girlfriend, she was just... scared of messing it all up. when you cupped her cheek and turned her head back towards you, her eyes widened, "gimme one reason." you whisper, eyes darting down to her plump lips as you scoot closer to her body, shorts riding up your thighs. she doesn't respond, feeling frozen in the same song that just ended began to play again through the speaker, "billie," you murmur, lips only inches away from hers, almost brushing against each other as your hand travels down and wraps around the back of her neck, pulling her in closer. when your other hand comes up to her shoulder, she only then decides to speak, "because it'll be ten times harder to let you go."

"then you better hold me tight so that won't happen." you whisper before your lips crash softly against hers, pulling her closer by her neck. she doesn't pull away, your words slowly processing in her head as her own hands cautiously grab a hold of your waist, almost pulling you onto her lower abdomen in an attempt to get you closer. she wanted you two to be whole, even after all the doubt she spat out before. your words sunk deep into her heart, and now she didn't have a worry in the world. as long as you were with her, everything would be fine. she'd just have to hold you. close. tight. secure. as long as possible... and maybe even forever. she smirks against your mouth as she feels your tongue run across her lower lip, pulling away only a few inches as she opens her eyes, staring deeply into yours and never looking away, "so... i guess i should rename the voice note 'stupid girlfriend,' now?" she giggles as you roll your eyes, pushing her shoulder softly, "i think you're the stupid one."

𐙚 amiyaps : guys the landing of my flight scared the absolute SHIT out of me... cus tell me why we were dropping so fast bro 🙁

𐙚 tags : @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @cannibalsclass @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @meliciousmel13 @zayluvss @hrtsdollie

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getsuuna · 2 days ago

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KNY Fandom so fucking insufferable I'm gonna start behaving like those GiyuShino and SaneKana shippers and go around spreading misinformation and say "no you don't get it SaneGiyuu was implied!!!" /j

because I'd actually have more content to mention without even mischaracterizing them

wanna talk about how they're a two-faced mirror? almost as if they were written to parallel each other and there's so much to talk about on this matter

or, since not everyone in this Fandom can dive into analysis, wanna mention how Shinobu figured Sanemi could've made Giyuu smile by inviting him to eat his fav dish with him? why not ask him directly instead? why Sanemi out of all people?

wanna mention Sanemi's pseudo-obsession on that man? he disliked his ass, but if we go back to analysis, his intolerance to someone feeling superior can be tied to a multitude of factors and one of which is being low-key reminded of himself, and he loathes himself while at the same time he puts on that strong façade. he can't face it though. and he wanted to understand why Giyuu felt that way SO BADLY he went to him for training and tried to speak with him, he wanted a contact, he wanted to understand, he needed Giyuu to speak up but he didn't.

on the other hand don't we wanna talk about Giyuu's perspective? Giyuu never hated him nor did he really feel sad knowing he disliked him, contrary to how he felt towards Obanai. not to mention he even got to be sarcastic towards Sanemi's dumb ass at least twice.

and the iconic ohagi scene? idk about y'all but between the hashira I think that's THE iconic scene, alongside Giyuu and Shinobu beefing and Shinobu almost stabbing him (don't get me wrong platonic GiyuShino has my whole heart)

the first time we saw Giyuu smile in the series is while imagining to befriend Sanemi??? and out of everyone he chose Sanemi? the hashira who is canonically the most difficult to talk with?😭 he only ever smiled either for food, for Sanemi or Tanjiro

oh and let's not talk about how Tanjiro, after getting knocked up, wakes up and the first thing Giyuu says is "yeah Shinazugawa left" ..? or the whole novel chapter in which they end up talking about him (supposedly right after that scene in the manga) and Giyuu cheered up. what

anyways, likewise, the first time Sanemi was seen smiling genuinely outside of his family was with Giyuu. Obanai and especially Masachika were both closer to him, not to mention the most important person in his life, Genya...yet here we are ig?? (after Giyuu he also smiled more in general, the scene of him smiling at Nezuko was one of my fav panels ever so keep in mind I'm taking in consideration the chronological events and not the impact of the scenes per se)

or let's talk about the most important part in their development which is when they fought together.

Sanemi saving him, telling him not to zone out while throwing the sword at him, it made Giyuu realize he's the water hashira, it was the first time Giyuu acknowledged it. Sanemi influenced Giyuu's character positively, and so far Tanjiro was the only other one who managed to. Sanemi saw him as his ally (rightfully so), and hopefully seeing him fight also made him realize he wasn't that much of a conceited guy, he was just like him, as he initially wanted Giyuu to understand (despite the fact it was a miscommunication)

Sanemi teaming up with Giyuu out of everyone, in such an impactful panel.... idk, if it was a straight ship that would've felt like a confession for the Fandom 💀

they impacted each other's character, they were the only two hashira surviving after facing the same war, they faced similar struggles during their lives (but let's not get into analysis, once again...), they could've understood each other better than anyone else would ever have, and they ended up bonding and eating together

that panel was there, in the middle of other panels all portraying important bonds, whether canon romantic bonds or platonic and sibling-like ones (Tanjiro and Nezuko, the Kamaboko squad, the swordsmiths etc.)

if it wasn't important it wouldn't have been there, but the funniest thing is that if either of them was a woman it would've been considered canon since it also included TanKana, ZenNezu and InoAoi🙏🏻

but oh, if we try to name either of these things and more, people will rightfully say "can't they be friends anymore?", which is valid, but I wonder why this doesn't apply to equally fanon straight ships.

a show so peak has so many fans that are so dense😭😭😭

#kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanegiyuu #giyuusane #sanemi x giyuu #kny ships #sanemi #giyuu #sanemi shinazugawa #giyuu tomioka #toxic shippers #i hate y'all sm #platonic sanekana #platonic giyushino #they're just so peak #am i talking about sanegiyuu or about platonic giyushino and platonic sanekana?#the answer is both #I need more m/f friendships in media bc I can't take this shit anymore

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blues-valentine · 2 days ago

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This is my last post about it. OBX 4 wasn’t just bad in terms of JJ but all characters in general.

The writers, knowing they’d kill JJ off, started a character assassination train on him perhaps expecting us to feel like he deserved to die? But we know JJ. We all know JJ’s reckless but not to this level of detachment. He was acting like an entirely different person. JJ would’ve never treated Kiara, John B or any of his friends like that. Ever. Not matter how bad life turned out. Even with the whole “JJ blew all of our money!” it’s like they wanted us to hate him so badly.

Don’t even get me started on how bad that JJ plot twist was and since Part 1 I said it. Trying to erase his entire life like that even when it didn’t make sense was lazy writing. And all for what? To have his biological father be the one to kill him at the end? Because that’s the only possibly cruel explanation for that plot twist.

Killing JJ in such a way when this character spent his entire life suffering physical and emotional abuse from his adoptive father is cruel and it sends such a sad messaging.

OBX has always been bad at giving the girls good story lines and that aren’t always about their boyfriends. Kiara’s relationship with her parents was totally ignored. We got from them cutting her off at 401 to them clapping for her at the ceremony and we never got to know how they reached that place. Did they go to family therapy in those 18 months? Did they talk and came to an agreement together? But nothing.

Cleo didn’t get to have a story line that wasn’t mostly adjacent to Pope. And for a character that’s been here for 3 seasons we only know she worked for Terrance and it’s good with knifes. We don’t know her actual surname. And I was expecting more from her revenge plot and I feel silly for expecting that from those writers.

Sarah’s PTSD regarding Ward was never further explored. The writers also forgot about Wheezie and Rose. Sarah wouldn’t have continued on without trying to reach out to her. It’s like they just didn’t want to deal with it. And the worst one is them making Sarah say she didn’t feel ready for a family at her age for them to forget about it and have her pregnant. Despite how silly it is considering the circumstances of their life and how much trauma she has to heal from.

Don’t even get me started on the way the writers never explored the girls relationship. The only bonding scene between the girls we got was Sarah telling Kiara she’s pregnant and Cleo wasn’t even there. We never saw them just existing as young girls just joking around. Hell; even a whole boys conversation would feel somehow natural and we didn’t even got that.

Pope is a killer now? And by the influence of Cleo not less. Did the writers forgot about Season 3? And how she was the one that stopped him from killing Rafe. So, now you’re telling me she was the one egging him on to become a killer. Make it make sense please.

And the pogues dynamic was so bad. God, it was so out of character for them all. Firstly, John B would’ve never allowed JJ to walk into that self destructive path especially after learning about Chandler. And then, the way JJ confessed to Pope he was sucidical and he just didn’t say anything about it? Kiara was also incredible out of character. And that death scene was particularly dumb in so many levels, because it could’ve been preventable and it was pointless. But the thing that pisses me off the most is that the pogues stood there watching. In a scene that felt perhaps a bit anticlimactic. “Not pogue gets left behind” but they buried him on a desert in Morocco and had Rafe be the one to dig the hole too. Those are not my pogues and this wasn’t the dynamic I feel in love with. OBX went from being a comfort show to give me so much unnecessary frustrations.

#outer banks #outer banks season 4 #this is for real THE LAST thing I’ll say #good riddance #i won’t watch season 5 #obx #obx season 4 #obx s4 #jj maybank #jiara #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #john b routledge #cleo obx #pope heyward #jarah #cleopope #text post

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girlwithadragonheart · 1 day ago

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I need to yap desperately about one single gripe I have with this game. MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD read at your own discretion

The first half is me ranting about how much certain things mean to me and how impacted I was, and the actual gripe comes closer to the end.

I'll preface this by saying this post is about Varric's death and my rage and despair regarding it, but more so about my Rook's.

I've seen people who said they picked up on the hints about whatnot, who knew before the Fade Prison. I was not one of those people. I was so relieved when I saw him after the Prologue that I didn't think twice, because I knew that it would destroy me the second shit started going wrong.

I was already not having a good time when I started the game simply because Varric was getting older. I don't handle aging well or death, and his design showing his age, and the comments he would make about "getting too old for this" just made my heart break.

And then shit got worse. I sobbed disgustingly when that knife went into Varric's chest.

After Rook woke up from talking to Solas and she heard Varric, I was so gods damned relieved. And my Rook was better taken care of by Varric in that year she spent with him than she was in the rest of her entire life.

I cried from the end of Ghilan'nain's fight until the romance scene and on and off after that. I got so used to visiting Varric just to be comforted by his presence. Inquisition was the biggest part of my life for a year and a half when I was just a kid.

I did really bad middle school age writing for it but regardless of the quality, those characters were built up in my head becoming even more than they were in the game. Varric was my biggest support character through everything I was going through at the time.

I don't talk about it much, but I didn't have a great childhood, and I know a lot of people didn't, but I coped with it through writing and video games. Varric was the one supporting me through the abuse I suffered and writing was the way I processed how bad things really were.

When Rook was in the prison she said "What am I going to find here?" And Varric said "I think you already know, kid." I DIDN'T until he said that. The second he said that my entire chest tightened and I just said "No" out loud as I watched Rook find his body.

Now for my real complaint!!!

Rook never gets the chance to grieve Varric. They go from talking to him every day to finding out he's dead and it was all a lie. I have personally never been more fucking pissed at Solas than I am now. But Rook comes back and they have that kind of "closing off" scene with Varric's empty bed (which was so hard to go through btw). And then they fuck their pookie LIKE I CANNOT BE THE ONLY ONE UPSET ABT THAT

FYM I gotta find out my dad is dead and then Rook is up for boning like there's no fucking way unless it's to cope. And at least pertaining to the Lucanis romance, Rook is processing everything that happened and they can say "So much has happened, I just don't know how to feel."

And rather than getting to process that in some kind of way, the devs said nah this scene serves one singular purpose, and Lucanis says "I do" and then dicks them down.

Personally, I felt very dismissed despite being overjoyed about finally having the romance scene, I couldn't even enjoy it with everything that happened prior.

Rook deserved the chance to completely break down after everything they went through. Tbh i don't know how they kept it together. Varric said "don't get all misty eyed" and i thought to myself that's way too delicate a term for what's happening here, I was fully ugly crying.

Fuck your "I had a good run" I still need you bitch.

All this to say I'm very upset, and I'm running my second playthrough and every time I look at, hear, or talk to Varric I tear up again. Wtf Bioware.

Rook should've gotten the chance to actually talk about what Solas did to them, especially in the sense that he made them believe Varric was still there. Or at least get to properly grieve the person who was their closest friend for a long time.

I have very strong feelings about this obviously

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realchemistry · 3 days ago

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Breaking down all the Buddie from "Confessions"

Did I write a photo review with over 5000 words dissecting the episode? Yeah, I did... Hope y'all enjoy!

Gonna ignore the first call because other than the bad mustache CGI/shots where it's not even there, there wasn't anything of substance. I wonder if they used that old call cause they had to fill up time, were short on budget, something else fell through or what happened.

So let's move to Eddie going to church. After 23 or so years he felt the need to confess his sins. But after an explanation of the crazy stuff that went down with Kim, including mentioning how Eddie lied to his son, his best friend and his girlfriend, he concluded he's not deserving of forgiveness and fled. The priest looked conflicted and that's supposed to be that.

Eddie, catholic guilt and all, went to church to confess. It's like the most desperate measure, I imagine, but desperate times... He gave the priest his name. Interesting. I got so emotional when he described Chris and talked about his optimism. Lying to Buck was pretty much at the top of the list, huh? Like, Eddie knew how bad he was behaving because their relationship's made up of truths. His talk in the kitchen with Buck was actually instrumental to him seeing how wrong all of it was. They need to be married immediately. The fact that one of the prayers (?) Eddie was meant to repent with was called "Our Fathers" was also interesting because it's coming from a priest or father but also, more obviously, Eddie's got a million daddy issues. Ramón traumatized him and Eddie said he traumatized Chris and Chris ended up going to Texas to live with Eddie's father.

The Buck and T date scene was super interesting for many, many reasons:

Buck thought he had the upper hand, saying he'd pay for dinner and trying to get T to guess the reason behind it.

T already knew it's their anniversary, which Buck clearly didn't expect.

T didn't just know, he actually brought Buck a gift for the occasion.

Interestingly enough, last season we learned that Buck didn't like basketball in the episode in which his jealousy and Eddie and T and him being bisexual happened.

T, after SIX months of dating the man, somehow didn't know that and gifted Buck tickets to see the Lakers.

For some odd reasons, T told Buck he didn't even have to take him to the game, "Take Eddie if you want," he suggested.

Buck looked confused but not exactly averse to that idea and asked, "really?"

And then T went, "and die" and then Buck replied, "okay, that sounds right."

Now, let's go through all that. It's their anniversary, they're out for dinner, and they apparently had a good time and then it's like they're completely out of sync. Buck wanted to pay for dinner to commemorate their anniversary, thinking T had missed it, whereas not only did T not miss it but he also bought him a present. Problem was said present wasn't something Buck actually cared for, which T seemed unaware of. The joke about taking Eddie... Why even suggest that? Was that a test? Did Buck fail it by wondering if that was really a possibility?

Then the woman interrupted the date and asked for a picture, with some unnecessary touching involved. I truly didn't get why Buck grabbed his own phone to take the pics... Was this second nature to him? A practical way to have an excuse to ask for the woman's phone number to send the pics? She wondered this and Buck denied it but there's literally no other reason to do that. T looked at the whole thing amusedly. Buck took the pics and went back to the table, expressing how weird that was.

Was that weird? I'm honestly so confused by that scene, like... people ask strangers to take their pics all the time. Yes, some of those might be an excuse to flirt but they're at a restaurant, which isn't exactly the greatest place to be trying to pick up someone. Also, Buck made it weird with the whole using his phone thing. Even if the woman was flirting, which she seemed to be, it didn't have to be made into anything. We can assume from this that Buck is uncomfortable being flirted at in front of T but he might also not feel great about feeling attracted to somebody other than his boyfriend who's right there to see it all.

Here's where it actually got weirder. T acknowledged the fact that it's okay to look and then Buck remarked that T didn't do that. T explained he's gay by saying he's a Kinsey 6. Buck, for some reasons, didn't pick on the meaning of that so T had to explain it. That's just... I call bullshit on that. Buck, recently bisexual, lover of research and internet deep dives would know ALL about it. This scene, I gotta say, felt super wonky. At points it was meant to but at others, like this one, it just... felt off. There's also the fact that Oliver and L have zero chemistry...

Anyway, back to the date. So T didn't know that Buck disliked basketball and Buck didn't know that T was gay? After SIX months of being together? What in the hell? Why were they only talking about that at this point? I don't think full disclosure or knowing your partner's history is a must at all, but considering Buck's curiosity and the fact that he was newly out, I figured all these subjects would've part of the first conversations between them. I'm not sure what to think. Was the writing completely off? Were they unable to come up with a better excuse to bring about the past partners talk and resorted to this? It's baffling. And since it's canon, whatever the reason, I found that the whole date showcased how little they actually knew about each other, which could only be a bad sign of the things to come for their relationship.

Of course, after that comment, T revealed he was engaged to a woman and called it off. Once again, the dialogue... T saying the woman went "nuts" after their break up, taking up some "himbo" half her age... Buck figured she was just trying to get over T, and then he mentioned the name of the woman. Of course it was Abby. Of course. Buck was literally having a crisis there, but the waiter showed up and asked how everything was. T, completely out of tune with what Buck was clearly trying to process, said it was "perfect." The waiter asked if he could get them anything else and T said "no, I think we're good." Buck looked so the opposite of good. Then the waiter wondered "who gets the damage" and, at last, a flawless piece of dialogue with T pointing at Buck and saying "That would be him." Buck was handed the check and the waiter told him, "whenever you're ready, no rush" and left while Buck looked like he was having a heart attack.

So, yeah, the date was a complete disaster. It's a mix between the actors not clicking, the dialogue serving the plot instead of Buck as a character (and Abby and even the show) and finally the actual plot dictating that it had to be a disaster. Honestly, the moment this bit ended, I knew they were going to be done.

Next, Buck went to dispatch to talk to Maddie. Why didn't he talk this through with Eddie, Hen and Chim? Curious... Maddie wondering how many men Abby had turned gay was hilarious. But I can't believe they didn't squeeze in the fact that Buck's bi there. They didn't do it during the date, though it was implicit, but here they had the perfect opportunity since they hadn't done it before. It would've taken a second for Buck to correct Maddie. Again, the writing this episode was all over the place, specially cause Buck looked at Maddie offended and Maddie clarified she was joking but then Buck sorta explained himself and T... anyways. Josh showed up then, and something was totally off with the actor's hair btw, I couldn't focus for a second there.

Josh eavesdropped and caught the kissing a boy part and eagerly asked if there was another boy... Buck was quick to deny that. Well, there's Eddie... Maddie and Buck explained the whole situation and Josh apparently knew her but they weren't close. And then, again, this whole thing just didn't make sense. Buck remarked that T led her on, said he loved her and then hurt her. Maddie thought Buck was afraid T would do that to Buck but Buck denied this and said, "I thought I knew him" and that he didn't think T would be capable of being dishonest and cruel.

Let me rewind for a second. Why was Buck under the impression that he knew T? Buck didn't even know T was gay... Also, didn't Buck know about T's past? He was worse than cruel to Hen and Chim... Truly, was he not told about all of that? I just, the use of the world cruel here... don't get me wrong, leading someone on is cruel but the whole being gay and repressing it part, while not excusing it, would at least explain T's actions. But the way he acted towards Chim and Hen... that had nothing to do with self-repression. It just didn't. I need someone to explain to me in detail how come Buck was deluded to think he knew T when at this point I'd be shocked to learn he knew T's last name.

Then the Josh speech happened. I wasn't happy with it at all. First of all, what's Buck loving him to do with any of it? If T was a cruel person, then Buck loving him wouldn't justify any of what he did to Abby. Buck looked super not in love as an answer, which was hilarious to me because of course he didn't love T, he didn't know the man!!! Josh backtracked from that word and asked a series of questions aimed at... gauging how much Buck cared for T? IDEK, it was all pretty ridiculous from the start. Also, first two questions made sense for Buck to answer affirmatively but T was literally such a plot device that there hadn't been a single instance in which Buck had shown that he was thinking about T or making T's concerns and happiness his own. These things, though, get positive answers in canon as far as Buddie is concerned. The future question was interesting because Buck's answer was "I could." It's never a definitive answer, it's another instance of "I guess" from the time T echoed "my attention?" when they first kissed. It's like Buck was convincing himself then. Josh took that to advice Buck to stop judging T because Buck didn't know what he was talking about.

The speech went into pre and post Glee world and all that nonsense. I truly hate a lot of things this episode chose to be. Was mentioning a Ryan Murphy show in a RM show a necessity? I don't wanna get into what Glee did or didn't do for the queer world, the point here is actually moot because T and Abby weren't a thing before Glee. Again, whatever experience with coming out T and Josh had, it had nothing to do with what Buck was asking. Buck was worried about the side of T he claimed not to know and how cruel he could be. I think the way T referred to her and the situation was also pretty awful, in the present tense. Even if one thought T was protecting himself by being with Abby, there is still room for judgement. We have Hen and Karen, in this same show, not being cruel to anyone, for one. Also, T didn't fight a single battle. He treated his coworker who was out like scum and was racist towards Chim. T wasn't an activist fighting for his life and his rights, he was just a bad person all around as far as we know. He had no scars to show. We can pretend he had an internal battle, maybe a family issue with his coming out but there's nothing to honor him for.

I cannot believe this show did that speech so awfully and pretended it was the greatest thing since Jack Shephard's "live together, die alone." Truly, they thought they had done a brilliant job and it's utter bullshit throughout.

Moving on, Eddie went to get juice... but then he changed his mind and got water instead. Who's there to witness that but Father Brian. Eddie's outside, drinking his water looking gloomy about it when Brian asked him of he could take a seat. Eddie allowed him to and for some reason, as Brian was sitting down, looked around. Brian told Eddie about being there for the first time, as if compelled, and then asked Eddie if he went there often. Eddie immediately assumed he was being hit on. Now, whether this is indicative of Eddie being hit on a lot or he just took those words as the line they sometimes can be and interpreted it that way, I hope we'll find out soon. Either way, Eddie told Brian "no offense, I'm straight." The lady doth protest... Hilariously enough, Brian's answer wasn't "me too" or "I'm not interested" but "I'm celibate". Eddie took that in and then Brian introduced himself and revealed that he knew Eddie. Eddie was processing that and the Father part, his hand still in the air.

Brian mentioned that he noticed that Eddie chose the juice initially and then got the water instead. He asked Eddie why he did that and Eddie kinda asked "decided I wanted water?" Brian posed that Eddie was punishing himself, denying himself because Eddie didn't feel worthy. Eddie sighed and, "I don't feel worty of juice?" Brian went straight (haha) to the point, "Of joy." Eddie chuckled and looked around and spoke in a low voice as he said he didn't have a lot to be joyful about because Brian was bringing up something Eddie had confessed to him in public. Eddie's well aware he's in public... Brian started listing the things that Eddie had, Chris, his parents, his job and his mustache. Eddie was kinda not happy but that last one got him laughing and blushing. He then confessed that he grew the mustache because he couldn't grow a full beard due to the LAFD. Brian concluded the mustache was a disguise and Eddie said it was something like that. Brian asked what Eddie's afraid of seeing in the mirror and Eddie said, "A failure. A man who doesn't deserve forgiveness. Or joy." Brian said that's now what go wanted for Eddie, that he'd already forgiven him. Eddie repeated that he doesn't deserve that and uncapped the bottle to take a sip of the water. Brian told him to earn it, and to stop punishing himself in the meantime. He remarked that Eddie spent his life in service and he understood that but they couldn't take care of others if they didn't take care of themselves. Eddie smiled and said he understood and Brian told him that after praying, he wanted Eddie to do something frivolous, something fun, something that expressed pure joy. Eddie told him he'd think about it.

The Eddie scenes were clearly written by someone else because they were all pretty on point. We had Eddie conflicted, and while it could just be him preferring water (the alternative is truly devastating to me so I want to believe Eddie isn't punishing himself through food), Brian decided to go with it to get Eddie to reflect about what he was doing to himself and it worked. Eddie didn't run away like he did in church but Eddie was shown to be aware of his surroundings, so the fact that he claimed to be straight with all of his chest... Why did he do that? Why did he think he was being hit on in the first place? Why was that moment necessary within this scene? Was juice really a representation of joy? Was joy a metaphor for something else? What were tptb trying to show or say here? Would a heterosexual character need to affirm himself as such? Would a repressed one? Thoughts, so many thoughts!!!!

The well emergency happened and it wasn't about Eddie, but it was interesting cause they seem to be doing Greatest Hits for some reason... Now I gotta ask, wouldn't Eddie, as a medic, know that getting the kid oxygen wouldn't work? Why was Hen explaining that to him? Honestly, the writing this episode... Buck's first idea was to dig... funny. Eddie said someone had to get down there and Bobby told him he wasn't gonna fit this time. Interesting. Bobby announced they would pull the big brother out after two minutes no matter what, specifically addressing Buck and Eddie. Interesting.

So it wasn't about Eddie because it wasn't the same Eddie. The pipe was smaller and Eddie didn't fit. But Eddie also didn't fit himself. He disguised himself with a mustache to avoid looking at his face in the mirror because he felt like a failure. He was shown in an episode entitled "Masks" at home taking down Halloween decorations all on his own. Bobby made sure that both Buck and Eddie knew the clock was ticking and they had to abide by it this time. Unlike Eddie's well, when Eddie cut the line and Hen refused to have Buck look for him because they'd end up with two cut lines. No more lines being cut? No more alternative ways to escape? Maybe I'm reading way too much but the camera did show Buck and Eddie's reaction as Bobby singled them out.

Back at the loft, T said he had a spot right out front and they should Uber to the movie so he didn't lose it. That phrasing... Buck agreed but asked to talk first. T replied positively, "we got time." Again, funny way to put it. They were both going to the movies so why was T the one who was going to lose it if they didn't get the Uber? You know who actually got an Uber with Buck recently, right? Also, "we got time".... famous last words. He'd just said they didn't have time but then said they did and, well, as it turned out, they didn't.

They sat down around the island and Buck brought up the story at the restaurant that T shared with him about how he "almost got engaged." This was odd and T corrected Buck, "I did get engaged. What I didn't do is get married." Buck said he appreciated T's honesty and that he wanted to be honest with him. T knew this spelled trouble and Buck denied it before taking out his phone and passing it over to show T pictures of Buck and Abby. T was surprised at first but then he scrolled to a pic of Buck and Abby kissing. Buck announced he was the himbo. T agreed it was crazy, after Buck put it like that, but added it was a little awkward. Buck decided to go closer and said it was like that for him as well at first, and that he should had been honest at dinner, but T asked or gathered that it had freaked him out a little. Buck said yes to this and T explained that if he had known, he wouldn't had used the word himbo because he didn't think Buck's one. Buck claimed that he was, at least before Abby, because what they had wasn't that, not for him. Buck said it was the most transformative relationship of his life until then. Buck said one of the reasons he's comfortable with T was that T's comfortable with himself. T said he wasn't always that way and Buck said he's aware and it made him admire T more. And then dropped the bomb, saying he wanted T to move in with him. WHAT?

No, really, WHAT? Buck really got deranged thoughts cause why on Earth would he ask T to move in? They clearly didn't know each other, they didn't love each other either, so explain how this made sense?? I'm hoping that it's a case of tptb purposefully having Buck spiral and go from zero to a hundred. There's also parallels between this and Eddie and Marisol, with Buck and Eddie asking their partners to move in when their relationships were clearly not at that stage.

T's reaction to Buck's words was crystal. While Buck said he was ready to take the next step and then, for entirely insane reasons, made it clear that he wasn't proposing marriage and or an engagement, though that'd be a possibility thanks to the brave people that came before like T. WHAT? Really, no, I'm so serious. I fucking cannot with this dialogue. Moving in, the suggestion, was bad enough, but bringing up marriage? Attributing the fact that they had that right thanks to people like T? SERIOUSLY? This was atrocious. I know Oliver was thinking of his bank account while delivering those lines because they were as non sensical as they could get.

"Why be apart when we can be together?" Buck finally asked. T said that's sweet but he couldn't move in. Buck wondered the why and T answered, "Because... I know how this ends." And my heart literally stopped or skipped a beat or something. I legit thought he was gonna bring up Eddie or a hint and, well, he kinda did, though not directly.

Buck asked what that meant and T explained. He mentioned Buck's qualities but then said that Buck's feelings were new and so it was all exciting and it felt like forever but he's still figuring himself out, which was good. Buck asked what he was saying and T said that no matter how bad he wanted to be, he wasn't his last but his first. Buck interjected that they could be the same but T said they usually weren't. If he were to move in, Buck wouldn't mean to but he'd end up breaking T's heart and he didn't think he could deal with that. He got up to leave, saying he should go and Buck told him to wait and asked him if he had just broken up with him, to which T replied, "yes, I guess I did. Believe me, I didn't see it coming either. Should've known that parking spot was too good to be true. I'll see you around, Buck."

At last, free! But while the beginning of the conversation was terrible, it ended on a high note. There's a lot of questions, like: according to what he said, T knew there wasn't a future between them. So I'm guessing here that after six months, they hadn't actually discussed that because Buck was clearly on a different page. T knew they weren't long term while Buck was thinking of moving together and being together for good. Make it make sense, how were these two dating not knowing anything about each other and not discussing basic relationship stuff??? T knew that Buck had to figure himself out yet he was still with him hoping it'd be casual without actually talking about it??? Yet he later claimed he didn't see a break up coming and he could see his heart being broken?

Now, my shipper heart wants to believe the between-the-lines reading of this scene had Eddie written all over. Eddie is how it'll end... And the fact that T's answer to Buck's question contained the "guess" this time around, mirroring Buck's response to "my attention"... INTERESTING. It was all a guessing game between BT, It's also the first time he called Buck by his name, which was the first and probably last because we're not gonna see him ever again. I was glad Buck asked if they were done because we all know he got confused about it with Abby... So long, T, you will not be missed. Buck's loft door opened and later on, another did...

Finally, we had Eddie. My boy. Looking at himself in the mirror and getting rid of his disguise.

And then... I literally felt so many things at once, y'all! The music, the shot... I couldn't believe it was about to happen. And then the mole made an appearance and Eddie was wearing pink and tighty whities and I swear I couldn't. I just, even rewatching to write this... I love him so much!!!!!!!!!! I was so happy to see Eddie letting go of his disguise and allowing himself to have that joy. The fact that Ryan looked like that... I was fighting for my life the whole time, NEGL.

I kept thinking Buck was going to show up midway. I was truly bracing myself for it. But the doorbell rang. Eddie looked through the peephole. Buck was there. Eddie opened the door, nodded at him and Buck gave him a beer as an answer to an unasked question and got in. Eddie closed the door and looked at the beer, at Buck and at the beer again. He made a face and then climbed the sofa. Buck was already drinking when the camera panned to him. Eddie opened his beer and drank from it. Scene.

LISTEN. I was unhinged already because they had Ryan dancing like that. But then the final scene happened and I just... I don't know how I'll survive what I hope it's to come.

Let's break that one down:

Eddie decided to follow Brian's words. Eddie didn't forgive himself but he decided to stop punishing and disguising himself in the meantime.

The way Eddie looked at himself in the mirror, both before and after he shaved off his mustache... My heart!!!

Eddie allowed himself to do something frivolous, something fun, something that expressed pure joy. The fact that he chose to dance half naked around his house... that's very babygirl of him, and I don't say this lightly.

The pink... the moves like the ones from the bachelor party... I felt crazy.

I kept waiting for Buck to show up, like my mind was half insane at what I was seeing and half insane at the possibility of Buck seeing it as well.

The doorbell rang instead.

Why didn't Buck use his keys?

It was the perfect opportunity for Eddie to put on some pants. Eddie didn't do that… Neither before or after looking who it was.

But, really, why didn't Buck use his keys? WHY????????

Was it to hammer the fact that Eddie was comfortable opening up his door to Buck while not wearing pants?

Was it so Eddie could see him standing on the other side of the door, mimicking Brian's view of Eddie in the confessionary? Will there be something for Buck to confess in the future? To Eddie specifically???

Buck wasn't looking at Eddie when Eddie saw him behind the door, btw...

Eddie opened his door and they looked at each other and said not a word but understood each other perfectly.

I truly hate the continuity error with the shirt collar. It's gonna hunt me forever.

Buck made himself at home while Eddie considered the beer.

Remember how Eddie's choices were water or juice? Well, what about a third secret option? BEER. Buck's beer, in fact. INTERESTING.

I went nuts and will continue to go nuts at Eddie climbing the sofa. Whose choice was that? I need to know. It was so freaking cute!!!

The camera went steady and Buck was already drinking from his bottle. Eddie, on the other hand, uncapped the bottle like he did with the water, and the shot ended as he drank the beer.

The contrast in the colors of their clothes… the fact that Eddie was looking to the side while Buck was looking ahead.

Was all of this symbolic of the fact that Buck already figured his sexuality out while Eddie's just starting? I'd like to think so.

Was it symbolic of Buck reaching conclusions he'd later have to confess to Eddie before Eddie arrives to those same conclusions himself? I'd also like this very much.

Now, the episode was called "Confessions" and Buck and Eddie didn't speak to each other. Not a single word. Even in that last scene, the only one in which they actually interacted, they didn't use words to communicate.

I see this lack of dialogue between Buck and Eddie in two ways:

First, it could show how good a relationship Buck and Eddie have in order to not utter a sound and still get each other completely. Regardless of all the issues I had with the writing, I can safely say that Buck and T were the complete opposite and lacked communication all around. The space and lack thereof reflected this too. Buck and Eddie know each other so well and Buck went directly to sit down on the couch, waiting for Eddie. Eddie followed right behind. BT, though... Buck stepped away from their table and the whole conflict with T's dating history started. Buck sat very far from T at the loft and only got close to be broken up with. Incredibly enough, that final shot with Buck and Eddie sitting together at Eddie's couch was the first that ever happened... Maybe that's foreshadowing something else, like couch theory related stuff? I never really spiraled about it before but I might soon.

Second, it could indicate there's something Buck and Eddie aren't saying to each other. They didn't speak to each other because they can't -- they're not ready or aware that there is something to confess. They remained silent because it isn't time yet but if they were to confess something, it would be impossible to take back. It would change everything. It will.

This is a legit insane post. When I say they're driving me nuts, I mean it and this is proof. Even though it's the longest ever, I probably forgot stuff that I might add tomorrow.

Now please share your thoughts on the episode and Buddie and everything so I don't feel alone in my madness. <3

#911 ABC #911 #Buddie #Buck and Eddie #Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #Buddie Meta #911 Meta #Ryan Guzman #Oliver Stark #realchemistry #this is actually crazy #Like I literally lost it #but I needed to say something or some things and so I did and now... here it is #I truly can't believe myself but after all this writing this is getting posted #The fact that I'm thinking I might make separate posts about certain things later just to expand...#send help

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