#also hopeful open endings i think

[greatunironic]

got tagged by @sharpbutsoft for the first lines of the writing patterns, and @jewishrat420 for the last lines of the writing patterns, so just gonna smush them all together here!

(also not gonna tag anyone because, as usual, i've been absent + idk who's done what -- so if you haven't, and you want to, consider you're self tagged!!)

Writing Patterns 🏁

rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern! / list the last line of the same 10 fics you shared opening lines for and see if there's a pattern!

“So, you gonna put out tonight or what?” asked Robin from where she was reclined on his bed, painting her toenails and drinking his pop.  // “Yeah,” said Eddie. He kissed him again, even softer, sweeter. “Yeah, a promise.” (the valentine experience)

It started when Eddie said, “Seems kind of like a lot of bullshit that I’m about to die a virgin, man,” and Steve’s brain sort of spun out — because what? How? Eddie? He was a what? — as they sat in the middle of the woods, hotboxing the beemer in the late afternoon of what very well might be the day they died. // Eddie pressed his thumb to the corner of Steve’s mouth, said, “Guess we’d better live then, if we’re gonna go to Nationals or whatever,” and Steve said back, “Cool,” and then, smiling, Eddie replaced his thumb with his mouth. (in the backseat of your (boy)friend's car)

Eddie wakes up to sixty-eight unread text messages in his group chat with the boys. // “I mean,” says Eddie, and rolls him, laughing, over into his sheets for round two. (they're going to send us to prison for jerks)

At this point, Eddie’s life had really just sort of become an Aristotelian confluence of events. // “So gimme a sec, baby, and we’ll see if we can’t get this migraine sorted, okay?” (i give myself to you (as long as we move on the floor))

There’s laughter coming from the living room still as Eddie ushers Steve through the open door with a gentle hand at the small of his back. // For now, Eddie tucks his face into the soft, quiet juncture of Steve’s neck and shoulder, holds him close, and breathes, and it’s enough. It’s perfect. (your house is waiting)

On July Fifth — though she learns that after — Heather wakes up in a hospital bed. // “Yeah,” she says, and she means it. “I think we did.” (saint of ongoingness)

Hop buys a house in the Berkshires, after. // He thinks he’s going to like him. (these traces of available light)

November 1st, 1986 | Eddie, Well, man, you fuckin called it: fully got “gang-pressed” or whatever into hosting a Halloween party for the twerps last night. // “Well,” he repeats, the sun on his skin, the future like the ocean stretching out before them, way out and past the horizon. “Here’s to firsts then.” (scheming on a thing)

Ever since they walked out of Hawkins Middle for the last time in June, Lucas has been thinking about what high school is going to be like. // Maybe Max will show up for it, if he asks, he thinks. Maybe they all will. (zen, and the art of three point throws)

Getting shot, Eddie thinks, sucks balls, and not in the fun way. // With his hand still on his wrist, and Steve’s smile small and warm across from him, he’s kind of leaning towards a happy ending. Why not hope for the best for once? (three inches above the floor)

[talisthighs]

I’m crying at the idea of Viktor just storming up to Jayce with his “visions.” Girl You Need Help. You Require Medical Attention

This is literally how Jayvik is talking to each other in the lab

[captain-astors]

The Crown Prince

[katiekatdragon27]

Dandy's World Roleplay servers are so wild and unhinged that it makes me come up with AUs. And yes, it's shinyshrimp. I'm so cringe <333

So, while in the roleplay server, I got into an argument with a Shrimpo as Glisten about not being able to see proper reflections though Glisten's face. Then a Goob showed up (my sibling) and asked if Shrimpo was a vampire. Then they asked if Glisten (me) was a vampire. Then we asked the Goob if he was a vampire, and he turned emo. And then I shared this experience with my friends, and they egged me on to make an AU about it lol.

Glisten: So. Is this the part where we make out, orrr-?? Shrimpo: WHAT??!

Dandy: No cuz it's genius! If they hate each other, that's two less annoying people to deal with! (He underestimated the power of enemies to lovers)

The general plot is Glisten is a monster hunter and Shrimpo is a human turned vampire-werewolf (he has no memory of how that happened btw). Glisten is specifically hired by Dandicus to hunt down and kill Shrimpo. Glisten manages to hunt Shrimpo down, but since Shimpo hasn't been non-human for that long, he puts up a kinda pathetic fight. Glisten puts Shimpo's arrogant ass in place and refuses to kill him so they can fight honorably. Shrimpo takes this personally lol and strives to get better at fighting so he can show up Glisten.

Badabing badaboom, enemies to lovers setup.

Dandy did not see that coming and it pisses him off lol.

Shrimpo: I HATE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO- Astro (to himself): WTF is up with this guy?

This was a doodle recommended by an awesome artist in a server I'm in (dunno if they wanna be tagged lol). Astro being a moon moth thing causes Shrimpo to howl at him lol. Also part of the reason Dandy dislikes Shrimpo lol. Also also, Astro is a witch.

Also also also, here's the emo Goob my sibling became when discussing vampires. He unemos when he becomes a weredog lol.

Below is a buncha doodles all about Glisten (and his failing mental health).

TW FOR UNINTENTIONAL S.H. PROCCED WITH CAUTION:

You guys know Wiggle from Bugsnax? You guys know Millie from Helluva Boss? Yeah. They were the main inspos for this design hc lol (the buck teeth part not the insecurity part).

I have this goofy hc that Glisten's og design never intended to give him buck teeth. When being made, the ichor messed up and gave it to him. Learning about this is his first instance of feeling insecure about himself, and he develops the mannerism of covering his mouth when laughing (bc it makes his teeth really obvious lol)

And since Glisten now has buck teeth, that means Shimmer also gets buck teeth! However, her reaction to them was completely different to how her dad reacted to his.

I have this hc that Glisten can't handle backlash that well. With the machine messing up with his face (his teeth), and his general vibe being disliked by many people of the time of Gardenview (prob bc the 90s and very queer-coded kids' character didn't exactly mix well), he feels this crippling pressure to be the "perfect" version of himself.

If he deems you lower than him, your words don't matter. He doesn't care what you think about him

However, if he views you as an equal or higher, any kind of negative opinion said to him will be taken personally, and will either be repressed into self-hatred, or actively worked upon in order to be "better" (which ends up hurting him more depending on the situation.) His need for perfecting also makes him a workaholic when in a spiral, leading him to self-isolate and just kinda hide away from everyone for a couple days, and sometimes injure himself trying to get better on his own (he has a tendency to scratch his arms and face too, only fueling his need for isolation).

He refuses to open the door and get food outside, so ppl will slide him snacks and things under the door. People still care about him, but he'll never them see him cry.

Glisten has such horrid insecurity that he will never let anyone see. However, not everything is bleak for the guy.

Shimmer: Hey Dad! Guess what!? My teeth grew in! Now I look like you! Isn't that cool?!

She was not born with them unlike Glisten. Instead, they grew in near her "10th" birthday. She was very happy to have them. I like to think that seeing Shimmer be so happy to have a very sensitive trait of Glisten and loving every second of it helps him heal a bit of his insecurity.

After all, how can he hate a part of himself that his kid adores?

Kids don't fix everything, but they can aid in healing lol

Have a good one dudes^^

[cloudinal]

Saying you loved me made things harder at best

[toxintouch]

Yooooooo, you write fan fictions, don't you? Halloween is, like, right over there *points*. would you be willing to do one of mhin taking sparrow ghost hunting? and maybe even having a "guest appearance" of a certain shadow manipulator?

if this has already been done, could you point me in the right direction?

thank you~

I've never seen a fic like that but omg. This is such a brilliant idea, I love how all the pieces come together so perfectly–Vere being said to be responsible for his fair share of local ghost stories, mentions of Mhin and haunted houses in the Uquiz results… Premium thoughts.  I had a lot of fun writing this, ty for giving me the prompt!! :>

It took a couple of extra days but it's also longer (~2900 words) so hopefully that makes up for it.  p.s sorry if u meant it to be more gen bc I wrote romantic pining lol Volume Warning! Ambiance (~BEAUTIFUL FOX NOISES) for y'all /j

Cold Spots

You pull your cloak tighter around yourself, sheltering your remaining body heat from the howling wind.  

You ignore the shiver that creeps down your spine.

You’ve been warned that the night is chilly in Eridia at this time of year, but you haven’t quite scraped together enough coin to afford more layers.  So you huddle closer to the swaying lamplight of the Wet Wick, attempting to leech warmth from the cheery (if occasionally overwhelming) atmosphere of the bar.  You’re on edge, wary about straying too far from the Wick’s affable open doors and the balmy light spilling out of them.

You crane your neck to peer as far as you can around the corner without moving, eyeing the myriad of nearby alleyways, all full to the brim with shadows, searching for a familiar splash of moonlight and blue sweeping through the night.

 That’s when you feel eyes on your back.

You freeze, all of your senses on high alert.

“You’re where I asked you to be.”  Mhin says in lieu of a greeting.  You startle, reeling around to face them.  Even when you're expecting them, they have the uncanny ability of sneaking up on you.

“You say that like you’re surprised.”  You chide, in mock affront.  “You’ll notice that I’m also on time.”  Your giddiness shows on your face, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Don’t act so pleased with yourself,” they snipe while rolling their eyes, “for anyone else, that’s the bare minimum.”  They frown, looking you up and down with their arms tightly crossed. “...Is that what you’re wearing?”

Any further quips you have for them die in your mouth, drowned out by nervous chuckling.  You realize they must be asking (in their own way) if you’re not going to get too cold.  You know you could just ask Leander or Kuras for some seasonally appropriate attire but you’d rather not rely on further charity if you can’t help it.  Hence: “I’m, um, warm blooded?”  You mean to inject an appropriate amount of bravado into your voice, but it comes out as more of a question.

Mhin sighs, long eyelashes brushing their cheeks as they close their eyes for one long moment.   “Sometimes I wonder…  Fine.  Let’s just get going.”

The floorboards shriek beneath your feet as you step across the threshold.  The entire shack seems to groan and sway, protesting audibly against the wind.  You stick close to Mhin’s back as they hold their gas lamp up, casting an eerie glow about the interior of the abandoned building.  Their keen eyes do a quick sweep before they nod decisively and usher you inside with a single precise motion.

The bellow of the wind sounds almost like a scream as the door shuts behind you.

“So, what are we looking for, exactly?”  Your voice comes out hushed, the haunting atmosphere insisting that you behave accordingly.

“Likely nothing.”  Mhin responds.  “Actual ghost sightings are very rare.  And of those, few recorded instances come from trustworthy sources.  People in Eridia can be quite superstitious.  Count on rats or other pests.  It’s more plausible that this is a mere infestation rather than–”

The roof above your heads gives a long, low creeaaaak.

You both pause for a beat, listening to silence.

“How would we know if it's a real ghost?”  You ask, more out of curiosity than anything.  You’re not about to waste the opportunity, if Mhin is willing to keep talking.

“Depends on the type of ghost.”  Another protest from the floorboards as Mhin wanders further into the dark.  Since you don’t have a lantern of your own, you have no choice but to follow close behind.  Unless you want to stumble around with nothing but the shatters of dusty moonlight cast through the cracked windows to guide your way.

Mhin and you make a quick round of the small building, finding it mostly empty, only a few pieces of broken furniture left behind.  You draw closer to the back wall, carefully avoiding moth-eaten curtains, heeding Mhin’s warning about a small step.  Based on the layout, you think this place might have been a bar or entertainment hall of some sort.  You imagine it had a nice, cozy parlor at one time, though now it’s fallen into squalor.  As Mhin examines the walls for signs of pests and other clues, you examine the graffiti strewn across them: crude jokes and lewd drawings, mostly.  Some scattered names, belonging to people and gangs you’ve never heard of before.  

Framed in the center, though, there's a huge riot of colorful paint.  An abstract painting with no proper canvas.  It's beautiful, somehow, though hauntingly morose.  The artist has contained their work in a neat square, not a single streak of color escaping the precisely imposed prison.  You’re not sure what the intent of the artist was choosing somewhere like this to display it…  

“Is there a type of ghost that makes artwork?”  You wonder aloud.  You almost wish that Mhin would hand you the lantern so you can get a better look.

Mhin clicks their tongue, sparing barely a glance toward the makeshift painting.  “I wouldn't define that as art.”  Mhin follows the line of the wall to the corner, their lantern held up to the wall.  “That’s just…paint.  If you’re looking for ghosts, try looking for scratch marks.  Those are a possible indicator, though not always a reliable one.  A sudden feeling of hot, or cold–any otherwise unexplainable temperature change.  A strange odor…”

You give the air a sniff.  “...I don’t smell anything.  Do you?”

“Dust.  Rotting wood.  And you’ve stopped using Leander’s bath soaps, which I’ll commend you for.  Why anybody would want to smell that strongly of–”  Mhin stops and gives a short whiff, their mouth slightly parted.  Their brows furrow. “It is unusual…I don't see or smell any signs of rats or roaches.  No vultures either…”

“Maybe something else scared them away?”  You posit.  You shuffle closer to Mhin, not liking the way the shadows around you seem to flow and ebb the longer you look at them, your mind making up shapes.  There’s a silly part of you that wants to feel Mhin’s cloak between your bandaged fingers as reassurance that they’ll stay close.  They’d probably hate to know that you see them as something to cling to–a source of comfort, safety.

You try to take another step closer to further dampen your trepidation, but instead you trip over– something–and stumble directly into Mhin.  They catch you on impulse, strong and quick enough to steady you with one arm while holding the lantern with the other.  You breathe an apology, your lips bumping against their chin as they help you get your feet back under you.  

You both search the ground to determine what knocked you off your balance.

It's a dirty old rug, rucked up at one edge.  

A long line of what appears to be claw marks lies half uncovered below it.  Mhin kneels beside the marks, studying them intently, carefully moving the rug to reveal yet more splintered wood.  “I’m not sure what could have done this,” they admit.  “The marks are fresh, but none of the dust was disrupted…”

The floorboards groan another protest, though it bounds off the walls in strange ways, making it difficult to pinpoint exactly where the sound originated.

“Aural contortions.”  Mhin announces.  “And a feeling that you’re being watched.  Reflective surfaces will behave oddly as well.  Hold this.”  Mhin hands you the lantern (more: shoves it into your grasp, really) reaching into their satchel.  Their nimble hands pull out a handful of alchemical concoctions, one which shines like the inside of a seashell, a tiny silver locket, which they flick open to reveal a small mirror.  There’s symbols etched into it, so old and worn away you can’t make them out.

You draw the lantern closer at their behest, illuminating a small smile spread across their face.

Is Mhin …Having fun?

“Is there anything I can do to help?”  You ask, hoping they don’t notice the warmth in your voice. Getting scolded would kind of ruin the mood.

Mhin glances up, blinking at you like they almost forgot you were there.  Their tongue peeks out, wetting their lips as they consider.  “Yes,” they finally agree, “would you–”

The lamplight is smothered by an unknown force.

The cracked streams of light from the window are gone, leaving you in darkness.

Mhin swears, their voice distorting as if they are suddenly very far away.  A moment ago they were crouched beside you, but the shadows surrounding you are so inky you can’t make out their silhouette at all.  Instinctively, you reach your hands out in front of you before freezing and reluctantly forcing them back down.  If both you and Mhin end up stumbling around with hands outstretched, there’s a possibility that they might accidentally grasp onto you and disrupt your bandages.  (You wish you had given into your desire to hold onto them earlier.)  

You whisper their name, frantic, hoping they can hear you.

“I’m here,” Mhin assures you, their voice pitched low and cautious.  You feel the gentle press of a foot against yours, a light tap of reassurance against the side of your sole.  “Stay close.”  There’s a brush of fingertips against your back.  “If the entity is particularly powerful, it will be able to move objects,” Mhin cautions, “but a ghost should never be capable of causing harm to humans directly.  And there’s not much in here that it could throw.  Just stay calm.  If you don’t keep your emotions in check, it will only be more incensed.”

Light flashes through the room again in a spotlight, guiding your gaze to a particular area of the building.

The abstract mural is defaced, dripping black liquid splattered boldly across the wall like arterial spray.  You retreat a step, feeling something wet beneath your feet.  There’s a sharp, astringent tang in the air.  Musty and earthy-floral.  Old velvet and leather, parchment and fresh paint.

You realize, with a sinking feeling of cold terror, that the black ichor on the wall spells your name.

    Eyes on you.  

Touch like a gossamer spider web.  Brushing against the nape of your neck.

“Mhin,” you whisper urgently.  “Something just–”  

The cold hits you then.  Bone deep and all consuming.  Judging by the way Mhin swears, they must feel it too.  Whatever this unknown entity is, it’s close.  And it wants…

Shadow flickers, fingers reaching for you, claws grasping, white glint of teeth.

Mhin sneers audibly, reaching for you and reeling you in by your cloak just before the figure can snatch you up.  Their arm wraps around you, guiding you with them as they recede.  They sweep their stiletto in a wide arc and you hear the clang of metal on metal, though you have no idea what it was that Mhin hit.  Their night vision must be immaculate–you can hardly see more than the fresh glint of their stiletto blade.

“Turns out it is a vermin infestation.”

A bark of laughter.  

Very familiar laughter.

The door starts to rattle on its hinges, moving to the rhythm of Vere's glee.  Mhin walks over to it, dragging your shaking body with them.  With a definitive kick from Mhin and a final cackle from Vere, the door bursts open.

Mhin tugs you out into the open air and slams it behind them.

“Awful fur-bag.”  Mhin spits the words out like the mere thought of Vere leaves a bad taste in their mouth.

You’re far enough away that the black paint clinging to both of your shoes is no longer leaving footprints, but you can’t say the same about the bone deep cold.

You’re shivering so hard your teeth start to chatter, adrenaline magnifying the chill in your bones.  How did Vere even do that?  You rub your arms and nearly stumble into Mhin in the process.  Their features twist into a half-formed scowl, eyes sweeping you before softening into something more delicate.

You find yourself staring into eyes that seem to catch the moonlight, words caught in your throat.

“You’re freezing.” Mhin murmurs, resting a hand against the curve of your cheek, testing your temperature.

You’re surprised at the contact.  Mhin is always so careful about touching you–it’s something you appreciate, usually, this unspoken agreement between the two of you; Mhin doesn’t ask intrusive questions, just makes silent hypotheses and treats your personal space with care.  You appreciate it–usually–but sometimes, (constantly), you wish…

Mhin’s thumb pets against your jaw.  They glace away from you as they do, unable to hold your gaze, but they don’t remove their hand, even as the moment hangs heavy in the air.  Their hand is soft, you think, fingertips like silk, though you can feel the thick calluses built up at the meat of their palm.  Likely hard won and harder lost, trophies from their time as a freelancer and whatever secret misfortune befell them what led them to Eridia.  Unthinking, you nuzzle into their touch, luxuriating in the coveted feeling of skin on skin.  You have half a mind to turn your head, press your lips against their calluses, kiss them like you’re drawing poison from a wound.

Mhin catches your chin between their thumb and pointer finger.  Their grip is assertive, certain.  You’d worry that you’ve angered them somehow, but the intensity of their gaze, the subtle tilt of their head, the flush of their cheeks, the featherlight caress of their breath on your lips…

–You think they might–

They back away abruptly in one smooth stride.  Their hands work quickly at the intricate clasp on their cloak.  Oh, now they’re really looking away.

“Wear this while we head back.  You didn’t come to this city to die of cold.”

They look at their bracers pointedly as you hesitate, as if itching to adjust them.  You slowly reach out and put the garment on.

The trek back to the Wick is uneventful.  The occasional star glances out from the pall of clouds constantly lingering in the Eridian sky.  You look for the waning moon, finding its reticent light and following it home.  You return Mhin’s cloak at the door, careful to hold it in a way that allows them to take it without having to touch you – touch your bandages.  

Mhin looks, oddly, a little reluctant to see it returned.  You’re not sure how else you can possibly read their body language.  Their hunched shoulders, the downturn of their mouth, their uncharacteristic lingering.  Holding the cloak in their hands like they can’t quite decide what to think of it.

They let out a sharp breath.

Mhin levels you with a pointed glare as they settle their mantle across their shoulders, affixing the clasp without need to look down.  “Buy some warmer clothes.” they order, “Tell Leander that the contract is complete and the buyer’s ‘ghost problem’ is solved.  The building should be fine for renovations, just tell them to start their renewal project on a day when the Senobium is actually holding Vere’s leash.”

  “You’ll come back for your cut tomorrow…?”  Confusion rolls off your lips.

“No.”  Mhin crosses their arms again.  “I just told you to buy some warmer clothes, didn’t I?  Consider it hazard pay.”  Again, that disgusted tone Mhin reserves for Vere.  “Even with that taken into consideration, you’ll still owe me, though.  Don’t forget.  I’ll collect some day; everyone does in this city.”

You’re not sure what to say.  Mhin is insisting that this is just a loan, and you believe that wholeheartedly.  But that doesn’t mean it isn’t charity.  Mhin’s also offering you transparency–an open disclosure of the deal you’re agreeing to.  You take their cut, buy what you need, and resolve to pay it back when you can.  And if Mhin needs something similar in the future, you’ll return them in kind.  

You think you stumble over your words a little, but you agree to their offer.

“I’ll be back to collect another contract.  Hopefully something that’s not a waste of my time.”

And a promise to come back is a promise to see you again, isn’t it?  To include you in their life?  Is that what you’re supposed to take from this?  That Mhin cares for you, even if they won’t–

  Or is it your foolish heart, showing you a path that isn’t really there?  

“Goodnight, Mhin.”  You say the words, but their back is already turned, steps already taken.

   ✦ EXTENDED ENDING...? ✦

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

✦Heat Signature (Vere Continuation) ->

[luck-of-the-drawings]

"And soda; runs off into the street..." "...and soda... is totally okay!"

[daily-beast-wirt-brainrot]

Is Wirt is still there? Or it's the best talking?

[Day 5]

[solaestial]

I'm glad you're evil too - Pinocchio-P

[colebegins]

i said this all in the tags of abigail’s post, but it was so long that i’m putting it in its own post

i completely understand where this breakup came from, and i am not upset with either of the characters involved in it. i appreciate the slight insight it gives into tommy’s lived experiences and his expectations, as well as the deep seated loneliness that he has alluded to in nearly every episode he has been in. the longing and the hope for connection and family and stability.

so yes, the breakup feels a bit self-sacrificial and self-destructive because he’s doing it now in an effort to protect his own heart. he thinks breaking things off now and dealing with that heartache now would be easier than waiting for it to ‘inevitably’ happen later when he is even more invested. and that makes sense!!! it does not come across, to me, as out of character at all. josh’s great speech even highlighted the scars that come along with queer people’s struggles (pre-glee) with themselves and with their relationships. there are so many experiences that could’ve left tommy scarred that would lead to this feeling that he cannot be buck’s last relationship. so this breakup, while it hurts, makes sense based on tommy’s reasonings, experiences, and conclusions he has come to.

but he also deserves for someone to prove him wrong.

my struggle with this breakup comes from the finality of the post-ep interviews. without the interviews, as a viewer who just saw the episode and is waiting for the next ones to come out without knowing any bts stuff or reading any articles, this would feel like a great path forward for buck to learn what he wants and to go for it — to fight for it.

buck discovering his bisexuality and being in a relationship with a man was never going to automatically solve all of buck’s issues with himself and with relationships, and specifically his place in relationships. but for the past 13 (?) episodes we have seen buck become more secure with himself and his space — the loft has had so many homey and cosy little decor changes, and it has been so interesting to see him feel more comfortable while making his place more comfortable. all of that makes the breakup feel sudden and unexpected, but that was the point. tommy surprised himself too, he even said so. they both felt comfortable and happy, but they also both have their own hangups. but also, they both actually want the same things. they both want love, stability, and mutual care, respect, and understanding. tommy thinks that buck will inevitably, accidentally, not maliciously, break his heart. and tommy does not think he can handle that, which i understand. buck has the opportunity to prove him wrong. but it seems (from interviews) that this is the last we will be seeing of tommy and their relationship.

now to take all of that, and have his next step be to just let this relationship go completely as he uses his old (self admitted) unhealthy coping strategies could be an interesting narrative arc to go down, but, for me, it would really only be worth it if he recognizes this old behavior coming back again, understanding where it’s coming from, and finds security in understanding what he wants. i want buck to feel happy, secure, safe, and loved. no matter who that is with — be it tommy, eddie, or some other person he happens to meet later. no matter who he is with, he is bisexual, and i will always be thankful that we have had this journey of self-discovery with him (which i hope we will continue to see ore development of — would also love if they would actually use the word ‘bisexual’ on the show). buck deserves to have growth and stability within himself and in his relationships, which is very clearly something he wants. he deserves to have that after eight seasons.

at the end of the day though, i will still feel upset for this end to tommy’s story, because he also deserves to feel happy, secure, safe, and loved. i hope he gets that one day. for now, that is what fan works are for.

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday/wip wednesday

tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 - tagging y'all back for wip wednesday 💖💖

doing two in one bc it's technically wednesday already idc lol - started a new wip I mentioned before (inspired by this video lol) and rn I'm rewriting what I wrote yesterday bc the past two days words were not wording and I hated everything I wrote, but I think I'm happy with it now haha I hope I'll manage to write it like I want to bc it's sooo good in my head istg haha

(wasn't gonna post until i have more but i need validation before i drive myself crazy over this lol)

___

It started as a random idea, more like a throwaway thought, really. Tommy was just checking the weather for the next few days – his hot pilot boyfriend always likes to be prepared – while they were hanging out, and he casually mentioned that “it’s gonna be nice on Saturday, perfect barbecue weather,” which got Buck to mention how they often have family barbecues at Bobby and Athena’s. Somehow, the conversation spiraled, and Buck’s not sure who threw out a more concrete idea, but here they are now, standing side by side in Tommy’s kitchen, preparing food – Buck’s currently slicing veggies for a salad, while Tommy takes care of the meat – for the barbecue where they invited way too many people than Tommy’s backyard can probably fit. It really is nice weather, the sliding door leading from the kitchen to the backyard open and letting in warm sunshine and a soft breeze that makes the air feel cooler. They work in pleasant silence, the only sound is quiet music playing from the speaker, and Buck can’t help a fond smile when he hears his boyfriend hum along, so off-key Buck’s not sure he even knows the song, but it’s still adorable.

The silence is disrupted by the doorbell ringing, and before Tommy can even move, Buck is dropping the knife on the cutting board, wiping his hands, and sprinting towards the door, shouting an “I got it!” over his shoulder. He’s followed by an echo of Tommy’s fondly amused chuckles. So he’s a little excited, sue him – they haven’t had a family day like this in a while, and there was only one he brought Tommy to, all of their schedules not so easy to align. And today his whole family will be here, including their spouses and children, and Tommy invited a couple of his friends and their families, too, and it’ll be just a big, loud, chaotic get-together that he’s hosting with his boyfriend. Buck never hosted one of these before, and he’s really enjoying it so far, and he just wants everyone to have fun.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck

@eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life

@diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway

@spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

@nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck

@sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings

@buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend

@daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz

[treebranchy]

honestly here for gay francesca/Michaela and very much here for bi Benedict but are you telling me they're gonna completely ignore raging resident lesbian eloise!?!?!

I didnt read the books (bc I don't care to) but I heard eloise's story has her being pen pals with the love interest? so how's about, and walk with me here, since she's in Scotland and everyone's favourite repressed mean lesbian cressida is in Wales, they start a correspondence, first patching things up and eventually getting to scissor?

[sluckythewizard]

[PUT INTO PLACE, TIED DOWN AND ARRANGED, AND IS NEVER THE SAME, AGAIN.]<-listen to my favorite songs. VAMPIRES ARE WONDERFUL ARENT THEY. THE FLESH IS SO MUCH MORE DURABLE. SO MUCH STRETCHIER THAN HUMANS. THE STRESS DOESNT KILL A VAMPIRE THE SAME WAY IT DOES A HUMAN. YOU CAN TAKE THEM APART THREAD BY THREAD AND LEAVE THEM WIDE AWAKE WITHOUT WORRY OF THE BRAINMATTER SPOILING UNDER VINEGARY AGONY.

[theflyingfeeling]

hello and happy February!! I'm back with some pointless Olli/Allu poetry if any of you fancy some 💖

~

The first kiss was the easiest; it happened almost by accident, in the afterglow of a show. Olli was glowing and the sun behind him was glowing and maybe Aleksi was blinded by it all for a moment. Maybe that's why he didn't resist. 

(He knew that wasn't the reason, but he had to tell himself something in defence.)  

((Defence from the truth that he had wanted Olli to kiss him for so long by then, had thought many times he was going to, almost had done it himself just as often, under the most ridiculous of pretexts.))  

(((Homesickness? Loneliness? Heartbreak? Or simply because he wanted to know for sure?)))

((((Know for sure that he had fallen for someone he shouldn't have and that there might be no turning back if he didn't put an end to it before it ever even began.))))

After the second kiss, in the tour bus at 4 in the morning, Aleksi knew he had gone too far to back up anymore.

"You look cute when you blush," Olli told him, his eyes still closed (so how could he tell?) and his nose still touching Aleksi's (so Aleksi felt Olli's breathing on his lips), as if they were still kissing even with their mouths apart.

Which certainly didn't help at all. 

Then came the third kiss, exactly a week from the second one, the longest seven days of Aleksi's life, and it pushed him even deeper into his self-created despair while Olli was pushing him down on the tour bus sofa. It was funny how they were both sucking the life out of him too, in entirely different ways, of course; the despair with the way it kept casting shadows over Aleksi's daily thoughts (except when Olli kissed him), whereas Olli simply did it with his mouth on Aleksi's mouth and neck and cock (except they never got that far that time around, because Aleksi spilled in his shorts simply from Olli kissing him and moving on top of him). 

"That's okay," Olli whispered, and then hid his own moan in Aleksi's mouth. 

Or in his heart – same difference.

~ 

The first morning-after was the worst: remorseful and headachy and his ears ringing with self-accusations. It got easier after that; Aleksi hated how it did. 

(Hated how the night-before always overrode any common sense that threatened to break free from its skull prison to the rest of Aleksi's body.) 

((Which would have been a shot in the dark anyway, for someone who, more often than not, tended to dismiss his own head and instead allied with his heart.))

(((His heart, which was as incompetent as an organ could be, often only pumping blood to his veins when Olli flashed a smile at him from behind his acoustic guitar – and fuck, how much Aleksi wanted to be a guitar – or when Olli glanced at him mid-show while whispering something into Porko's ear – and fuck, if Aleksi had ever wanted to be a Porko in his life; yet, here he was.))) 

((((Or when Olli anything.)))) 

"Fuck you," Olli almost giggled one morning when Aleksi's hand travelled down and down and even further down but then back up again. 

It sounded nothing like the breathless 'fuck me' Olli had whispered him the night before, but it brought back the memories just the same.  

There were morning-afters that weren't mornings at all, really, because they were at an airport or in a plane where time didn't exist, and still Aleksi found the time to want Olli so much he considered missing the flight just to sit in the VIP lounge with Olli's head on his lap until the end of time. There were also morning-afters that weren't 'after' at all, because the two of them had never slept, because making out and making love had been more urgent than dealing with jet lag.  

"Morning," Olli would still say to him, even on those morning-afters when they had done much else but looked at each other and talked and talked and talked all night. 

And fucked, of course, but that was a given. 

~

For all that it was worth, Aleksi knew that keeping count on all the kisses and the nights they shared and the mornings that followed were nothing more but an excuse, a way to fool himself into a sense of control. 

For if there was a first time, there'd always be a last time, too. 

(For acknowledging it was easier than admitting he didn't want there to be a last time.) 

((For there had been signs for a while, like that time Olli had roomed with Niko instead and Aleksi would have sobbed his pillow soaked if Tommi had not been snoring in the bed next to his.))

(((For Aleksi had grown used to having Olli's sweet kisses for breakfast, and if there was a day he didn't, he thought he might as well have stayed in bed all day, until Olli would worm his way back to Aleksi’s proximity (and pants (and heart)) again and drag him into a hidden corner to crash their mouths together and suck the doubt out of him.)))

((((For a moment.)))) 

"Must there be a last time, though?" Niko asked him with a bottle of Heineken on his lips. Several empty ones stood on the table in front of them, already having served their purpose in loosening Aleksi’s lips. 

Aleksi glared at the bottles and at Niko, then at the bottles again, because surely they were to blame for Niko's failure in seeing the inevitability of it. Frustration (or intoxication (or just plain agony)) made Aleksi's head feel heavy when Niko sneered at him upon Aleksi telling him so. 

"Olli's just freaking out a bit," Niko's next words echoed into his bottle with a low-pitched snort, "and clearly he's not the only one." 

As if sensing he was being talked about – or perhaps finally noticing Aleksi's eyes following his every move – Olli held Aleksi’s gaze across the club while whispering something into Porko's ear, then shaking his head at something Porko whispered back, then rolling his eyes and shoving the guy's shoulder with a smile visiting his red (and soft (and sweet)) lips, then wriggling his way through the crowd towards Aleksi and Niko. 

Aleksi got drunk all over again on Olli's cologne as he found a seat next to Aleksi. He breathed in the scent and almost leaned in when Olli did, to speak into Aleksi’s ear. 

"If we leave now, we'll have the bus to ourselves for a couple hours.”

Niko said nothing, because he didn’t need to; the eyebrow he raised at Aleksi was enough to make him want to kick his friend in the shin. 

They walked back to the bus and said nothing, because Aleksi was just too damn stunned when Olli grabbed his hand. They undressed and said nothing, because Aleksi was just too damn scared, having stuttered in front of Olli's grace and made a lovesick fool out of himself enough for one lifetime already. They climbed to Aleksi's bunk and still said nothing, because by then they were in too much of a hurry to be skin on bare skin that there was no room for words anyway, no need for even those sweet nothings or bittersweet everythings Aleksi wished and feared to hear. 

(Nothings, although they meant everything to Aleksi.)  

((Everythings, in the sense that they could crush him.)) 

(((Sweet, like every single tiny (and not so tiny) bit of Olli was, melting right on Aleksi's tongue like sugar.))) 

((((Bitter, because how else was this all going to end?)))) 

"Hold me," Olli breathed into his ear. Aleksi would have done so without Olli asking him to, for there was little else he could have been holding on to with Olli on top of him, with Olli's chest rubbing Aleksi’s own although Olli's back was as good as pressed against the roof of the bunk. 

There was a new kind of neediness in Olli's voice as he rode Aleksi, a strange new urgency that made his whimpers sound almost like sobs. Aleksi held back his own cries, commanding all the doomsday scenarios off his mind, and guided Olli's mouth to his, into a kiss that felt familiar and reassuring in the middle of all that chaos Aleksi had been building up in his imagination for days. 

"Don't stop," Olli spoke into his mouth even with Aleksi's seed already inside him and his own having spilled all over Aleksi stomach and chest. "Take me again," Olli asked, his hips still rolling. 

'Take me, one last time,' Aleksi heard Olli's voice in his head, and flipped him over to his back.  

"Fuck me, Ale," Olli demanded from him, even though Aleksi was already balls deep inside him. 

'Fuck me now, because after this I won't let you anymore.'  

"Show me how much you want me," Olli pleaded, and Aleksi could've laughed against Olli's neck if he hadn't wanted to cry instead. 

His each and every cell craved for Olli; his every thought and action guided him towards the man; he was on his way to fill him a second time that night – what more could he have done to show him? 

'Show me how much you want me–’ Olli’s voice echoed in Aleksi's head. Just the sound of it was enough to help him climax again…

'–because you will never have me.' 

(...despite everything.)

~ 

Olli was still asleep next to him when Aleksi awakened the morning after. It wasn't the first time, but somehow it felt like it was. 

"No," Olli mumbled like a 3-year-old when Aleksi tried to climb over him and venture after the scent of freshly picked-up Starbucks. Instead, he was caught in the trap of Olli's mouth and in the hook of his arms and legs that wrapped around him, like they had done the night before, keeping Aleksi in place until he gave in, until he stopped fighting his head again.

In the pitfall of Olli's embrace, the sweetness of his poison having stunned him, it was too easy to not care if anyone still sleeping away their night-before might hear them move together, mouths locked and hands clasped and cocks grinding as if a new day had dawned just for the purpose of them doing so – what waste would it have been to not take advantage of it? 

Finally free from the siren's spell (although only physically), Aleksi headed downstairs and tried not to stumble on the scattered sneakers on his way. He didn’t want to be as weak as he was and kept his eyes on the sweaty shoes, just so he wouldn’t turn and see if Olli was still looking at him from the bunk corridor. 

He probably would have turned eventually, if he hadn't then felt a hand grasp his just when he reached the stairs. 

A quick kiss to the bone of his cheek, a nose to his temple, then a gentle push to urge him down the steps. A hand still in his; still when the others greeted them with sleepy g'mornings; still when they sat down across Tommi who barely even cared (Aleksi decided the subtle smirk that visited on the man's lips was about something else entirely). 

Olli's head was on Aleksi’s shoulder suddenly, and it took embarrassingly long for Aleksi to even realise. Tommi hadn’t, or at least he hid it well; Joel hadn’t, but he had his phone in his hand; Joonas hadn’t, unless he was psychic and could see things even with his eyes closed as he sat half-asleep beside them; Niko had, judging by the angle of his eyebrows and the purse of his lips holding back amusement, but he was a little shit anyway.  

Maybe, all those things considered, Aleksi could find the boldness it took to kiss the top of Olli’s head, and perhaps even let his nose be buried there for a little too long, just to make his point even clearer. 

(Maybe Olli would cuddle deeper into the sofa and under Aleksi's arm and the world would keep turning; Aleksi’s heart would keep beating instead of breaking, and no one would skin him alive for it.)

((And maybe it wouldn't all crumble and fall apart in Aleksi's palms like a broken tailpipe on whatever US highway they were driving down.))

(((Because maybe there were worst crimes he could commit than falling in love.))) And maybe, Aleksi thought as he felt Olli's silky curls on his lips, it wouldn't be the last time either.

[dykedvonte]

I think the most baffling thing about the Tulpar as a vessel to me is the fact that the ship really did only have a one way communication system.

I know it was cheap but even the most basic of vessels regarding major transport would have some way, shape or form for outside communication. Not only that but there was absolutely no form of innate emergency signal to show they may have been offline or in trouble despite clearly having a system to dock credits if they went off course. It's another factor that really shows that bad situations are made to get worse by design. One person who is required to relay all information to the crew and make all the choices without feedback. No way to update or call for help in case of a dire situation. No way to inform of inner personal conflicts and acquire procedures accordingly.

It really is like they are all in some sort of fucked up solitary confinement. They have their own world with strict roles that are meaningless in the end, as long as the cargo makes it, it doesn't matter what happens on that ship to the company. They don't want to hear anything and will come to conclusions on what happened based on how much pay they can withhold from the workers. Even what they do send is short, sterile and corporate to the extent it was likely written and sent out with a command by some random unmanned computer in an office.

There's something to be said about how unfair it is to force absolute power and control onto one person when you as an entity could do so much more to offload it but I've said it many times before so I won't again.

[bilolli]

LOOK AT WHO'S BEING PRODUCED!!

I'M SO EXITED YA ALL, this is the only good thing that's happening right now. asbdhahcfiaqsejak

Anyway, they'll be soon be avaiable as clear stickers and keychains on my brand new ko-fi account!

be ready :DDDD