#Marisol woods

[abwwia]

Marisol, Portrait of Georgia O'Keeffe with Dogs, 1977, graphite and oil on wood, Collection Buffalo AKG Art Museum, Bequest of Marisol, 2016 (2021:44a-i), Photo: Brenda Bieger, Buffalo AKG Art Museum

[viquipo]

Big ole reference sheet I made for myself that took way too long.. Istg I had the chnt wiki open on another tab the whole time but I probably missed at least something so I apologize in advance. Truly excruciating lineup right here

[daughter-of-melpomene]

OC HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE 2024 — Day Eight: Multiverse

Maybe you have multiple ocs with the same faceclaim, maybe you have a friend(s) who have ocs with the same faceclaim that you’ve wanted to do a crossover with, or maybe you want your oc to meet some of the actual characters their faceclaim has played. No matter what it is, it’s time for your ocs to meet their multiverse counterparts!

Featuring all of my OCs who share faceclaims!

Melly Lovelace (Ted Lasso) & Bellemoira Thornvale (Tolkienverse)

Hayashi Lark (One Piece) & Lucinda “Hale” (Teen Wolf)

Victoria “Ria” Santos (Friends) & Marisol Crúz (Sin City, original story)

Mariela Gomez (Wizarding World) & CeCe Gomez (Sin City, original story)

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom,

@auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs,

@reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations,

@stanshollaand, @ginnystilinski-reblogs,

@luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @oneirataxia-girl,

@arrthurpendragon, @surebrecs, @gabbysdawsons,

@dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @stelstellakidd,

@manyfandomocs, @lapinaquarelle, @partiallypearl, @welcometotheocverse,

@ocappreciationtag.

[chnt-silly-debates]

Hello there!

My name is Sydney, and I'd like to debate chnt theories and stuff with you guys! Now, before I finish introducing myself, I'm gonna say something

This is NOT chntangrytimes, I will not post asks that'll offend anyone and I won't debate topics outside the podcast (ie. The ballads-of-a-bluejay situation or the museofthepyre discourse) this is SOLEY for debates about chnt, stuff like Jedidiahs project, Lucille's stance on Sydney and much much more! I also won't be answering things about any of the people involved with the podcast, you can mention the writing (IN A RESPECTFUL MANNER!! DONT START DISSING BLUE MAYFIELD BECAUSE I WILL NOT SPEAK ON THAT). Anon asks will be turned off so people can think before they send things, if it's something that you wouldn't ask off anon it shouldn't be asked. All opinions are welcome n such. As for the people watching the debates, you HAVE to be respectful too. You can't reblog a post shitting on someone's stance, you have to be respectful about your disagreements.

Harassment won't be tolerated

[eucanthos]

Marisol (Venezuelan born in Paris, lived and worked in NY 1930 - 2016)

The Bicycle Race, 1962-63. Wood, two bicycles, sunglasses, paint, graphite, cast plaster, cast metal and plastic, in 2 parts [figure 1: 173 x 66 x 140 cm. figure 2: 168 by 61 by 140 cm]

thnx topcat77 and Georg Nickolaus [higher res found]

https://www.theartnewspaper.com/2024/08/27/noguchi-and-marisol-sculptures-sale-abrams-family-Sothebys

[wherearethecampers]

Currently: Cabin Dungbeetle is reenacting the battle of 1812.

If only horses were real, that would make this story much more believable.

[iamedie]

Marisol Escobar

[bottomvalerius]

I’m clearly in a mood i think LMAO trying to nail down some Damien-adjacent character designs, the courtiers will be really fun to tackle in their “we are totally a found family and not at ALL trying to use this child in our end-of-the-world revenge plot” lmfao Specifically thinking of Marisol & Damien (and Donna lmao) so i gotta nail her evil milf-ness LMAO

[jabronibaloney]

She's the one in the middle of the front row.

Marisol Escobar, with some of her carved wooden sculptures, New York, 1958.

[altierigore]

happy birthday to my boy ryan wolfe. <3

If I had the opportunity to talk to him, I would say:

my sweet boy, you mean so much to me, you make me so happy and, to be honest, I consider you someone special in my life. I think about you almost all the time, I'll go to sleep thinking about you and the fact that you are not real makes me so fucking sad. I wish you were real, I wish I could hug you, comfort you, praise you, or even kiss you if I had the chance. yes, I'm delusional and even a little mentally ill, but I am happy thinking about a life that I will never have: a life with you. I daydream about you, I cry in frustration, but that's okay. I have the freedom to think about you whenever and wherever I want. you'll live in my head until the day I die with the most beautiful thoughts.

you are loved. trust me. you are so amazing, so smart, so sweet. you have your flaws, of course, but who doesn't? you are a human. I wish I could have helped you when you needed it. I wish I could hug you with affection and lots of love, I wish I could whisper to you that everything is going to be fine. I am here. you can trust me, you can talk to me. I care about you. a lot. sometimes I feel like you keep things to yourself. and damn, you shouldn't do that. it’s not good for your body or mind. you are hurting yourself.

I have something to say and I don't know if this is just in my head, but anyway: I notice that, for example, when you are upset, you avoid talking to people about what is upseting you. you have Calleigh, you have Horatio, you have Alex and you know you can trust them, but it seems like you are afraid to tell them what's going on. it's almost like you don't think they love you. if that's the case: you are wrong. they love and appreciate you. and don't worry about not getting a girlfriend, sweety. you are such a good person, you care about others, you love your job, this is noticeable. you love helping people. as you said: you were born to be a cop.

my pretty boy, you are incredible. I don't know how you haven't found a girlfriend yet. any girl would be so lucky to have you. don't give up. plus, you have your family: csi. they love you so much. so, don't ever think that you are not loved. you are, bae, trust me. you deserve to be happy. I wish I could make you happy. I love you so much. I don't think I love anyone the same way I love you. you are special. thank you for making me capable of loving so intensely.

happy birthday, sweety. for the thousandth time: I love you. I love you with all my heart. you are my comfort character. thank you for making me so happy. I wish you were real. enjoy your 43rd birthday. with love, ray. 💌

03/07/81.

[viquipo]

Please someone tell me this podcast has a fandom I'm losing my mind all alone in the woods in a wet cardboard box

Edit:

Apparently I made a GRAVE mistake in this. Marisol is much taller than salem!!! I did not. Know that!!!! Sorry lesbians

[marywoodartdept]

Exhibition on Marisol

Summer time is the best time to travel and see art! Fortunately for us, McKenna, our panting blogger, has just returned from a visit to the Toledo Museum of Art in Ohio and shares her perspective on the 1960s works of Marisol. #MarywoodArt #Painting

[buddierecs]

vacation/trips buddie fics

this list has different rated fics, so please look at the rating make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

boys of summer by: woodchoc_magnum "in which buck takes eddie on a summer road trip through the sierra nevada mountains, and they fall head over heels in love with each other" word count: 47k rating: mature important tags: road trips, camping, falling in love, fluff, smut, team as family, there ain't no turning back by: 42hrb "the buddie healing road trip" word count: 28k rating: explicit important tags: road trips, future fics, getting together, post-canon, mutual pining, sharing a bed, flirting, soft!buddie, oral sex, anal sex we're falling like stars by: prettyboybuckley "buck wants to help christopher cross both camping and stargazing off his bucket list and eddie pretends to be more annoyed with the whole idea than he actually is (because let's be real, he'd do anything for his boys). their trip brings him more than just the stars." word count: 9.1k rating: general audience important tags: camping, stargazing, domestic fluff, friends to lovers, banter, pining

in the moonlight you look just like an angel in disguise by: smilingbuckley "while christopher is at camp, buck and eddie go on a vacation of their own to a small cabin in the woods... it goes as well as you'd expect." word count: 35k rating: mature important tags: cabins, vacation, getting together, fluff, pining, friends to lovers, sharing a bed, cuddling, eventual smut, soft!buddie i give my hand to you with all my heart by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "eddie and buck go on a trip to big sur that changes their lives for ever." word count: 16k rating: mature important tags: road trips, vacation, beaches, friends to lovers to husbands, secret relationship pack your bags, baby by: scarletmanuka "buck wins an all expenses paid cruise for two to the south pacific. there's no one else that he considers taking except of course for eddie. he can keep his crush under control while they're away. can't he?" word count: 44k rating: explicit important tags: cruising, vacation, pining, getting together, fluff august by: daisies_and_briar "buck, eddie, natalia, and marisol go on a beach vacation in august of 2023. It gets angsty and gay." word count: 40k important tags: beach vacation, eddie/mariol, buck/natalia, mariol/natalia, coming out, feelings confession, sexuality, everyone is queer winter prayer by: daisies_and_briars "when a work conflict prevents athena from accompanying bobby to minnesota for the ten year anniversary of his family dying, buck and may offer to go instead. over the course of the trip, they all learn more about each other, and bobby faces his grief." word count: 18k rating: general audiences important tags: road trip, family bonding, grief, healing, angst, bobby being a dad to may and buck, may and buck are siblings

^ this fic is very very minor buck/eddie but it is one of my favourites, the entire series is amazing!!!

[bluestarlett]

HOLY SHIT I NEVER POSTED THE NEW COSMIC DESIGNS

THIS IS AN ACTUAL CRIME WHAT.... ok cosmic fans hang onto your asses

Seraph (Heart)

This is my STINKY MAN SERAPH i love him sooo much... he's (technically) the youngest of the Starcatchers as he is only 20,000.

He's a mourning dove (and hes pigeon-toed because of this!! :D) and definitely the nicest of the Starcatchers. His VC is Sydney Sargent or just Blue Mayfield themself ^_^

Saturn (Mind)

Saturn!!! Sopping wet siren from the sea who is obsessed with the passage of time and equally terrified of it! They're the second oldest of the Starcatchers, being 23,000. They're a siren and an octopus... Obviously. (Their tentacles look like gummy sharks. I want to bite them.)

Their voice claim is WILL WOOD HIMSELF. i have so many drawings of sun as Will you bitches dont even KNOW.

Asteria (Soul)

Oh my Harmonia... it's everyone's favourite depressed lesbian!!! She's the second youngest Starcatcher, being 22,000. Shes VERY ill.

She's a human but technically she is supposed to be a goddess. It's really not working out for her though ^^"

She desperately needs therapy. Her voice claim is Marisol Yuchengco! ^^

Gaea (Whole)

I HATE THIS MOTHERFUCKER SO MUCH I NEED HIM TO DIE HES SO FUCKING TERRIBLE sorry.

Anyway, Gaea is the oldest of the Starcatchers, given he is 26,000,000,000. (the generational gap between siblings is insane. Its giving echo @morals-are-for-mortals) He's as old as the universe itself! In speculation, anyway.

He's a fucking asshole also.

He is a god (unfortunately). He does not have a voice claim! The way his voice works is more so the way you can visualize a sentence or thought in your head despite your thoughts not actually having sound. Like reading something, if that makes sense?

Anyway, those are my little losers <3

[eddiestightywhities]

if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, does it make a sound? | T | 2,860

[check the link above for tags]

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SUMMARY:

“So, you two were…”

“We were on a date. Yes.” Buck is smiling, and Eddie wants to hug him for how damn happy he looks about the whole thing, just as much as he wants to grab his friend's face in both hands and irrationally scream what is happening to us? until his voice is hoarse.

Whatever an out of body experience feels like, Eddie reckons it might be something akin to this. And he knows how dramatic he's being, he does, but he can't seem to stop—even if he is at a complete loss as to why.

OR

Buck's coming out scene from Eddie's POV, where Eddie realises it's not his girlfriend that he's in love with.

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read below the cut or on ao3 HERE

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Eddie can't tell himself he's never thought about it. He has, it's just he's never—weighed any of it up, exactly. Hasn't openly considered it, or let himself examine the idea there could've been anything else. That there could still be something else. There's only how things were, the way it'd gone a certain way for him when it came to romantic relationships.

Him and a girl. Him and a wife. Him and women. That's just the way it's always been. The way things are for Eddie.

Until Buck is metaphorically punching him in the face with so many huge revelations in the space of a few stark truths that Eddie apparently couldn't, or wouldn't allow himself to look at.

He thinks of that saying; something about not being able to see the wood for all the trees. The forest surrounding Eddie's life has always been frighteningly dense, with no room at all for his branches to grow any taller or wider than his allotted space. Now Eddie is being forced to think about that fully, for the first time in sort of ever, but doesn't have time to process what the hell any of it might mean. A little ruefully, he thinks he'd prefer a literal punch to the face than having to deal with his own neurosis. At once, he's remembering Buck barrelling into him on the basketball court, which—dios, kind of makes sense to him now.

Buck and Tommy went on a date, that's what Buck just told him. When he and Marisol saw them together at the restaurant the other day, they were on a date. With each other.

His brain goes into overdrive.

“Wait, Tommy's gay?”

All of his and Tommy's previous interactions are now running through his head as a flickering montage; some janky film reel spliced together in non-linear fashion. It makes him feel really shitty, re-assessing Tommy's behaviour just because of the guy's sexuality, but it's just—again, certain things are making sense now Eddie's brain has been supplied with this new information. Those bits and pieces of broken thoughts and half-notions he hadn't been able to make fit anywhere in his mind's eye, they're fusing together. Becoming viable. Stuff he'd willed himself not to ponder over now slotting into place.

“Uh, that never came up while you guys were hanging out?” Buck asks.

He tells Buck no, because it very much hadn't, and that it wouldn't have mattered to him anyway. Which of course it wouldn't, obviously, he just feels like his brain—or no, his body, maybe, had been trying to tell him something, tell him this, only Eddie hadn't listened.

Why hadn't he listened?

Then it hits him—kind of like a large shot of tequila hitting your stomach when you haven't put any food inside it for a while—that he is not at all surprised by the fact Buck went on a date with a man. Secondary is the thought that he doesn't know why he isn't taken aback by this lack of surprise.

“Sure. I—I don't think he volunteers it, but, uh, he doesn't hide it.”

He doesn't hide it.

Why does Eddie's chest feel tight?

Like an idiot, he attempts to confirm what Buck has already told him.

“So, you two were…”

“We were on a date. Yes.” Buck is smiling, and Eddie wants to hug him for how damn happy he looks about the whole thing, just as much as he wants to grab his friend's face in both hands and irrationally scream what is happening to us? until his voice is hoarse.

Whatever an out of body experience feels like, Eddie reckons it might be something akin to this. And he knows how dramatic he's being, he does, but he can't seem to stop—even if he is at a complete loss as to why.

“Okay.”

Eddie's nodding, only he doesn't really know what he's nodding at.

Buck asks, “Is that weird?”

At once, he insists, “No. Absolutely not,” even though he feels it is, for some reason, weird. Not because being queer is weird, because no, fuck no, of fucking course it isn't. Maybe it's just because of…

Because?

Why, exactly, Eddie has no clue.

He feels so, so lost.

The forest is a deep dark place, something hiding behind his ribcage mumbles before scuttling off to bury itself some place even further inside of his chest.

Is it Tommy specifically, he wonders, because he's Eddie's new sparring pal, and maybe now he won't be? He digs for a reason as to why that would bother him, but comes up empty handed.

And Tommy, he seems like a good guy.

Which is why Eddie is fairly perturbed when he pictures Tommy's face and it makes him wish he had the power of materialisation, to get the LAFD air support pilot to appear, here and now in Buck's kitchen, so he can sock the fucker in his stupid chiseled jaw with his best right hook, right in front of Buck.

Jesus, what the hell is wrong with him?

“I mean, I like him too.” He says, because he does. At least he did up until a minute ago. He weighs up his words as he's about to speak them, deciding to change his tone a little and aim for a more banter-ish vibe. “I mean, just not the same way you do, evidently.”

Buck wants to kiss Tommy. Maybe wants to fuck Tommy.

Eddie's mouth goes dry.

He simultaneously searches his mind and Buck's face, promising, “This doesn't change a thing between us. Okay?” And Eddie Diaz is a lying liar who lies, because for some reason he can't yet fathom, this changes everything.

Buck has this look, then. Almost something like—disappointment? 

Eddie doesn't know what that could mean. 

“Good. That's, uh, a relief,” Buck says, and he's nodding, just like Eddie was a moment ago. Eddie can't figure out the reason for that, either, nor why Buck doesn't seem to actually look relieved. 

Then he's going on to tell Eddie about how Tommy dumped him.

“Wow,” Eddie says, because what the fuck? Why would anybody let Evan Buckley slip though their fingers? It's honestly always been a mystery to him, how the women Buck has dated in the past have all dropped him at the first hurdle. Buck is kind of the perfect catch. Realising he doesn't quite know how to explain that to Buck, or himself, and knowing he has to come up with something, he finds himself making a joke of it with, “That's fast, even for you.”

Buck doesn't react to that at all, just says it doesn't matter anyway, seeing as he and Tommy weren't actually together, telling Eddie Tommy doesn't think Buck is ready.

Momentarily, Buck looks sort of broken. Shattered into a million pieces that Eddie wants to painstakingly pick up, one by one, so he can lovingly glue his friend back together and make him whole again. Maybe with gold paint, just like kintsugi. They'd seen and learned all about that at a Japanese exhibition over at the LACMA museum with Christopher a couple of years back, and Buck's wondrous awe at the practice—the way the blue of his eyes had reflected the jagged gold lines in the pottery, making them look like tiny planets in his head—had kind of really stuck with Eddie.

He has another fiercely protective desire to kick Kinard's perfectly muscled ass. The guy doesn't even know Buck. Not like Eddie does.

Another millisecond passes, and Eddie clocks that he's actually the asshole here, for making this all about him, even if he's not voicing any of his self-centred bullshit.

All at once, he desperately needs to know what Buck thinks about Tommy's assessment.

““Hmm,” he hedges. “What do you think?”

Buck is smiling again. Nothing like the sun, though, like the beaming smile Eddie knows he can pull from Buck's chest, the one that always makes Eddie think of that time he saw dawn breaking over Abalone Cove, just after he'd moved to L.A.

He shifts his weight a little on his stool.

Is that a weird thing to think?

Eddie's really fucking glad he has a beer in his hand, although he doesn't take a sip. He just grips the bottle a little tighter.

He's not ready to hear it when Buck answers, “I kinda can't stop thinking about him.”

He can't work out why his friend saying those words crushes him the way it does. Why he suddenly feels like punching more than just Kinard. Why he wants to burn the fucking world.

Is it maybe a similar thing to whatever Buck was feeling, after Eddie first started hanging out with Tommy?

Jealousy.

Eddie's a shitty friend sometimes, and has to constantly remind himself to do better. He sucks a breath in through his teeth, trying his damndest not to make it the huge gulp of air his lungs are, for some reason, craving.

“Well, you know what I think?” Eddie forces himself to look up at Buck to say something he really doesn't want to, because he knows it's the right thing to do. “You should call him.”

“Really?” Buck's still smiling, but his eyes are somehow telling Eddie he doesn't believe a single word Eddie is saying.

“Heck yeah. He doesn't know you're an idiot.” You're my idiot. “Once he gets to know you,”—I don't fucking want him to get to know you—“and know that you're an idiot, he'll love you, like we all do.” Like I do.

Santa mierda.

Buck smiles again and asks, a little sheepishly, “What if he says no?”

“Then he's an idiot,” Eddie answers with complete conviction, fiercely, meaning every word of it as much as he meant it when he told Buck you act like you are expendable, but you’re wrong; when he told Buck I forgive you; when he told Buck there's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you. Eddie fixes him with a look he hopes conveys all of this, even though he knows it probably falls short. Then he adds—again, because he knows he should—“But don't walk away from something before you even know what it is,” and feels sick to his stomach as soon as the words have left his mouth.

Buck gives him a wry, knowing sort of smirk, points at Eddie and says, “That sounds like some good advice.”

It takes absolutely everything Eddie has to turn his train of thought around and force himself back into performance mode, feeling the phantom press of the towering trees that surround him and gasping with a suffocation that comes from being completely trapped in the thick of the forest he doesn't think he'll ever make his way out of.

He rolls his eyes, fake-sighs, and says, “Yeah,” adding a scoff for good measure. He tries hating on the smile Buck gifts him, the one which, honestly, looks a little forced, as Eddie lies some more and says, “I gotta talk to Marisol,” because he knows he doesn't have to; he's choosing to. He then pushes himself up and off Buck's kitchen stool even though it's the very last thing he wants to do.

Walking over to Buck's door with his heart inexplicably breaking, he hears Buck do this sort of laugh-sigh combination that Eddie's heard before. It's something Eddie does himself, a strange mix of self-consolation and for show, all rolled up into nervous release.

Eddie stops himself in his tracks, looks down at his phone, at Marisol's dozen-ish texts from the last twelve-or-so hours, and admonishes himself yet again for turning this huge moment of Buck's into something about himself. Only he can't seem to help but perpetuate the issue, because this somehow also feels very much about them; him and Buck.

Eddie is a selfish man, something his mother is still on a mission to make him acutely aware of, and he can't bear to leave without taking the thing he's wanted, he now recognises, since he walked into Buck's apartment around a half-hour back. After he'd gotten into his truck to escape the girlfriend he doesn't really want to be with and drove directly to the safest place he knows of on earth.

He feels only marginally better at being sure the closeness he craves is something Buck also wants.

As Eddie turns around, Buck's eyes shoot up at him with something threaded through his irises that looks a little like hope. Then it blooms over every brilliant feature of his face, and Eddie is overcome by two thoughts: The Abalone Cove-like knowledge that he thinks Buck is sort of beautiful, and a pressing desire to elicit this same look on Buck's face every single day for the rest of however many Eddie has left on this planet.

Fuck, he thinks retrospectively, walking towards the thing he now realises he wants more than anything he's ever wanted.

Buck.

Sliding his phone inside the back pocket of his jeans because he wants both hands for this, Eddie says, “C’mere,” beckoning his best friend over to him while thinking of Neodymium magnets Buck told him and Chris about a while back when Chris was working on that science project about gravity and other natural forces.

Buck is laughing as Eddie reiterates, saying, “Come here,” and Eddie takes and takes and takes, claiming another gift from Buck, one of much needed joviality, as he wills himself to double-down on the best buddy of it all because, yet again, he knows it's the right thing to do.

He reaches for Buck like a dying plant strains its leaves towards the sun, pulling Buck into him just as Buck reaches right back.

Eddie doesn't want to hug Buck. He wants to hold him. He knows he can't do that though, so reluctantly gives Buck's back a manly pat instead as he angles his head away from his friend in a move that feels entirely fucking wrong in each and every fibre of his being.

Cristo, Eddie is fucked.

What has happened here tonight?

Despite feeling like he's losing his mind, Eddie can't let go of Buck just yet. Forcing his body back, his hand moves of its own volition and finds its way home to the curve of Buck's shoulder, thumb being sucked into the dip beneath Buck's collar bone, and Eddie thinks of Neodymium magnets again.

He grins at Buck, and Buck smiles back with that same look of hope in his blue, blue eyes again, albeit a bit more distant now. And Eddie aches to give that hope to him, and more, because it somehow feels like it'd be the most natural thing in the world to do. Except he can't give Buck anything more than this. Not when Tommy presumably kissed Buck and Buck must've kissed Tommy back. Not when Eddie doesn't know what the fuck he's doing.

Despite what his mother tells him, some of which he knows to be true, Eddie isn't that selfish.

He pulls back to a safer distance, regardless of how it feels like the exact opposite, the reason he can't drag his hand away from Buck's person entirely, and swallows everything back down.

He points at Buck and says, “Call Tommy,” in a voice that sounds worryingly insincere to his ears.

After that, there is no way on earth, nor in heaven or hell, that he can look at Buck for longer than the single second he dares to allow himself, so he hightails it out of there before anything else can transpire in his chest, like the coward that he is.

He wonders for the entirety of the drive home about the sigh he heard leave Buck's lips as Eddie opened the loft door and left with the wish of a kiss on his own.

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Later on, with Marisol, after mutually agreeing to dial their relationship back to the start, he fucks her in his bed.

Eddie has another one of those imaginary out of body experiences as her thin, cold fingers roam his body and he tries not to think about circuit boards from high school science classes.

Set to zero. Forced-response.

Far from enjoyable, it doesn't feel a bit like the first couple of times they had sex, and he has to envisage boxes as he breathes his way through every excruciating part of it, his face a plastic mask of a smile wherever appropriate, making all the right sounds and all the right moves at what are hopefully all the right times and places.

Afterwards, with Marisol delicately snoring away and Eddie using the sound to keep time for his wrestled-down heartbeat, he looks away from the mass of dark hair piled on his chest to watch hers rise and fall; slowly, easily; the epitome of calm in her dreams.

He hopes, then, to fall asleep and dream of buying an axe so he can start chopping down trees and get himself the fuck out of the deep, dark forest he's only just noticed he's been living in his entire fucking life.

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on ao3 HERE if you'd like to come leave me some kudos and maybe even a comment ❤️

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[extasiswings]

Been spending all day trying to talk myself off the conspiracy board string web ledge of “they’re redoing the beats of S4 so they can do Buddie the way they originally wanted” only for @yramesoruniverse to remind me that 4B also had parallel Bobby/Eddie arcs related to unresolved issues with sobriety (Bobby/Bathena) and romance/parenting (Eddie/Buddie) [admittedly an assumption on my part about Eddie’s 7B arc, but I’m guessing they’re keeping Marisol around for a reason and the pic of her and Chris is making me think of Suspicion], and now I think perhaps I’m giving up and should just be left alone in the woods until the finale