#and his grief for a while effects his relationship with Buck

[bidisasterevankinard]

Wip Wednesday

do I have the stage where I start new wips but barely write the one's I have because I'm super indecisive and not inspired? yes. let's hope soon I will be fine and work on my wips I want to work on. Anyway meet new wip where bucktommy will have long angst in their relationship because Tommy needs to grief "what ifs" with Sal he never thought about till he sees Sal as Captain of 118 (it's an au where Sal is a captain instead of Gerass)(it's only the start of the fic btw)

thanks to nonny @racerchix21 and this song (the title taken from the song and it's "I tried to go on like I never knew you"

Tommy knows it all should be in the past. In stolen kisses in bars they knew Gerrard and the team would never come too. In usually passionate and wild - almost never tender and sweet - sex. In secrets they shared under sheets, when they both knew that the moment their fabric cover was gone they couldn't talk about those moments of comfort and vulnerability they shared. In breakfast’s Sal made for him and his nonna's lasagna recipe Tommy cooked for the man. In wild dreams Tommy knew could never be a reality. Especially not when Sal changed stations and firstly their meetups were less and less frequent until they stopped after Sal’s wedding. 

And Tommy swears he thought he was over it. Over Sal. Over dreams of the future they could never share. But one look at the man whose appearance barely changed since Tommy last saw him five years ago, staying near 118 trucks the same way he always did, while talking with Chim, and all that got back at him. All the memories of stolen love and painful hope to be happy, proud and loved. Preferably by his “best friend”. By the one of the best men he ever met even if they could be rough with each other or rude or just wrong. Sal always came back with sorry, that Tommy knew was genuine. They were so wrong together, but also so wrongly perfect. So electric. Sal made him feel how almost no one could. Only his first crush Eric from the army, Sal and …

“Hey, handsome, sorry for the delay, Hen needed help to choose a present for Karen,” Evan kissed his cheeks, smiling like thousands of suns.

If Tommy didn’t know and was pretty acquainted with Evan’s quirks and little signs of his fatigue, he would never think the man just ended his 48 hour shift.

“It’s fine, baby.”

Tommy smiles and he hopes his inner turmoil of seeing an old friend is not shown on his face.

“Have you met my new captain yet?”

“No, but I don’t need to.”

Evan adorably tits his head and Tommy wants his heart to be so fast only because of it and the taste of Evan’s lip balm on his cheek, but he swears he can feel the taste of liquor he and Sal were drinking last time they kissed. Right before Sal asked Jennifer out on their first date.

“I worked with Sal. Even more than Chim and Hen,” Tommy says and Evan for a second frowns and then hits his face.

“And they were no less inseparable as you and Eddie,” Chim says, with the loud sound of gum bubbles breaking.

Tommy doesn’t know when he and Sal got closer to them, but he would really happy if they never see that Tommy was there at all. 

“God, of course. In my defense it was so long ago I just haven’t even thought that all three of you were a team.”

“Yeah, I left the station almost a decade ago and it feels like it was in another life, so it’s fine, Buck.” 

Sal smiles at his boyfriend and Tommy wants to make as much room between them as possible. Maybe it will help him to to separate all these feelings of worry and anxiety and love and confusion from the sight of the man he had loved for years, but had never had the opportunity to own his love completely for himself, never feeling that Sal had given him his heart, and a man who he knows is step away from get into his own chest and rip out his heart with all the vessels and give it to Tommy if he just says the word. Sal would never do it even if Tommy would beg

I was tagged by @tizniz @cal-daisies-and-briars @diazheartsbuckley @diazsdimples

Tagging @wikiangela @neverevan @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @evnnkinard @evansboyfriend @evanbegins @evanbi-ckley @repressedqueen @rogerzsteven @racerchix21 @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley @pirrusstuff @saybiwithme @steadfastsaturnsrings @devirnis @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @kinard-buckley @loveyouanyway @lonelychicago @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @bi-buckrights @bewilderedbuckley @monsterrae1 and anyone who wants to

[ardentpoop]

'sam is a john copy'

what are your thoughts on this take?

largely used by people who don’t understand sam at all lol. like they say this because A) they cartoon-villainize john, and B) they villainize sam as well in order to validate dean’s self-centered perspective on everything that goes wrong btwn the brothers.

they didn’t even make it up themselves; as usual dean handed it to them. 4.19 “jump the shark” is the key example.

most of the audience takes scenes like this at face value because dean is the character who they’re primed to sympathize more with. like yes of course, poor dean who as a young man wanted nothing more than to be like his abusive father but is a hopelessly inadequate copy because his Heart Is Too Big, he’s Too Soft, Too Bruised. disregarding that between sam and dean it is in Fact dean (by this point in the series especially) who is the spitting image of their father in terms of his temper, his emotional unavailability, his psychological dependence on violence, the control he exerts over his family in the interest of keeping them “safe.” there are cracks in his hardened exterior because he’s a person, just as john was a person.

also note that despite dean continuing to revere john after his death and despite dean believing that john’s role in their lives was ultimately one that was necessary and justified (if he didn’t believe this he wouldn’t have behaved the way he did from s2 onward), he does tap into a deep well of resentment for john from time to time. we see it so clearly in this episode, especially with adam’s experiences with john being contrasted against sam and dean’s in ways that make both of them hurt. of course, the audience’s attention is pointed squarely at dean’s hurt over sam’s.

sam and dean often switch sides in terms of which of them defends or disparages john, depending on what’s going on in their lives and their relationship. regardless of this it’s crucial to understand that john’s role - his control over the conditions of samndean’s lives and his authority as head of household - is definitively dean’s following john’s death. with this in mind: despite dean outwardly appearing to criticize the detrimental impact that john’s behavior/lifestyle had on samndean as children, he is very much simultaneously upholding john’s “wishes” and approaching the question of whether to get adam involved with hunting from john’s perspective - the same perspective that was responsible for the differences in how sam vs dean were raised and the negative psychological effects on one brother but not the other. sam is always in favor of arming vulnerable people with information because he was denied information and excluded from The John And Dean Team for a significant chunk of his childhood. dean is (mostly) in favor of “protecting the innocent” at the expense of their own feelings about this “protection” because that was the role that was carved out for him, as angry and hurt by it as he often feels.

dean is arguing from john’s perspective here, and sam is arguing from the perspective of his younger self. it doesn’t seem like it on the surface because dean is using his resentment for john to cut at sam while the strain in their relationship in s4 comes to a head as a result of sam bucking against dean’s authoritative role by embracing his powers and going against dean’s orders (yes, orders), as well as because sam giving in to his “fate” as a hunter after years of loss and grief and evidence that he’d been “wrong” to “run away” is framed by the narrative throughout s4-5 as sam being pointlessly angry and revenge-driven due to his Monstrous Nature, as opposed to it being a bid for autonomy in the other direction.

overall: john’s role is dean’s and mary’s role is sam’s. outside of that there are traits of each of their parents in both sam and dean and parallels that you can draw between all four of them. john was the civilian and mary was the hunter. mary wanted to “run away” but her plans were violently thwarted. mary made a deal with a demon that would change her life and her family’s lives forever. john was once Soft and defenseless. john kept meticulous records as a hunter to the point that they are still referenced years after his death and even after samndean have access to the MOL’s records. mary kept her family in the dark about hunting after her deal with azazel because she was dedicated to living “normally.” there was strain in john and mary’s marriage before she died and it is implied that they might have eventually broken up if the universe didn’t have other plans for them. etc etc etc. truly you can go nuts with it there is so much more you can do with this family than the average viewer realizes.

I know that got long so let me know if you want further clarification on anything :)

[djsherriff-responses]

I know they're kids movies and there was no set plan for the series besides "be fun and entertaining" but the ice age movies is a fascinating timeline of how media aimed at children changed throughout the years

Like the first two films were surprisingly grounded in it's narrative themes of grief, death and survival, which are almost none existent in the later movies

The first film had a mother of a baby die on screen and later had a sequence of the main character remembering the loss of his own partner and baby , along with the plot of Diego being conflicted between helping a mammoth return a child home and feeding his family of fellow tigers. There's also the fact said baby is a human , so there's a lot of conflict within the animal characters on if returning the baby would be worth the risk , considering the possibility he'll grow up to hunt them regardless

The second film follows up those themes with everyone afraid of how they'll cope with their climate becoming warmer. Manny in particular being afraid he is the last mammoth and feeling a responsibility to be with Ellie to ensure the survival of their species , but Ellie doesn't see herself as a mammoth and thus doesn't feel that sense of responsibility. We get a flashback sequence of her being lost when she was incredibly young and found by possums, thus raised by possums with no mammoth figures growing up, so she's dealing with an identity crisis herself while ensuring her and her brothers survive

Those movies were still for kids and had comedy obviously, but these two stories treated death a lot more seriously whilst the newer films had a different tone all together

The most noticeable example of the tone change between the first and later films is the predator/prey situation. The first movie's plot hinges on the way predator animals (and humans) need to eat meat in order to survive and the moral dilemma that comes with talking animals befriending their natural prey/predator , but by the 5th movie it's treated more as a way to make jokes than something that actually impacts the characters and their relationships. Genuinely how does Diego and other carnivores eat?

The 3rd movie does touch on Diego's situation of being a meat eater living among herbivores and the effects it's having on his physical health, but the movie rather focus on Sid's sudden jump to being a Dino dad and the secret dinosaur world than actually tackling that aspect. Diego's plot line ends up being protrayed as a guy who doesn't know how to cope his best friend having his own family, which is fine, but the film never addresses there were factors that result in Manny and Diego relationship conflict, like the fact Diego is struggling to feed himself

Like, yeah the third film arguably still has survival themes, but Ellie's pregnancy does not hinder her abilities to do anything until she's in labour and even then it's made more so to take jabs at Manny's paranoia. Buck's near death experiences are him gloating about being an extreme survivalist, it's such a stark contrast to the previous two movies

By the 4th and 5th film, the stories were focused more on wacky adventures that borderlines on the realm of fantasy that just happened to have ice age animals involved, with exploration of character's being handled with "kiddy gloves" and relying on tired tropes with increasing modern references thrown in

I know everyone brings up how the first film was a found family story of three dudes helping a baby only to go on giving almost everyone a love interest of the opposite sex, but that's just one element of how these movies changed throughout each installment

There are kid movies and media being made today that do tackle more "depressing" topics, but it seems far more rare compared stuff our generation grew up with

[vanmarkus]

I really hope my ask here doesn't start discourse or like potentially draw angry people to your blog but I too find punch discourse insane because it's absolutely insane that people find Chimney awful and irredeemable for that when so many people move on from that time when Buck tried to refuse care to a teen mom who was hemorrhaging after giving birth. Like I guess the point is it's insane that damn near every character's sins are brought up (especially if Buck is on the opposing side) but so many people are just straight up not willing to ever go as hard on Buck for some of the messed up things he's done. I really do love Buck as a character but man some people in the fandom woobify him so much and it's incredibly frustrating.

first of all, don't worry about stupid people flocking to my blog with drama, i'll just block them if they get annoying <3

and yeah, out of all the characters Buck gets woobiefied the most, hands down. i think it's partially because a lot of people didn't watch or sleepwalked through season 1 and forget that Buck was the deaignated troublemaker character. a lot of people think of him as this co-parent for Eddie and Christopher, this responsible guy who saved Chris in the tsunami and who helped Eddie get the help he needed with childcare.

and not the guy who literally stole ("borrowed") life saving municipal equipment without permission while on shift. i think we giggle a lot about how he stole the truck on multiple occasions just to get his dick wet, but what if there was a call coming in? you know, actual people dying in a fire.

and yeah, he was hotheaded (still is in some cases) and didn't have the best of judgement all the time, but that was part of his journey. people mostly remember the big buddie moments (the shooting and all the crying) and kinda just... forget all the shit he put people through over the years.

and i love him so much, because he's a fucked up character learning to be good and it's interesting to see.

but also, i already went into a rant about Chim's situation, so i won't do that again, but i will say that a lot of people get super high and mighty when it comes to mistakes or wrong-doings of fictional characters, saying that "it makes no sense" or "he wouldn't do that" going off of the thought process that they themselves would not do that — which is also probably false.

most recently we saw how people were saying that Eddie would not go after a woman who looked exactly like Shannon — his dead wife and his life's focal point — just cuz he was in a relationship; which he already wanted to bail on once, mind you. because they can't imagine the effects of grief this character went through or understand his motivations because of it.

and i think that's the same thing with Chim. no nuance, just "violence bad. buck is pookie. he doesn't deserve it." and that's that. nevermind the incredible stress and heartbreak and the feeling of betrayal Chim was actually going through.

also, again. this is a TV drama, which means they gotta do stuff just for the drama. take it or leave it, i guess.

[lover-of-mine]

#anyone want to hear my season 7 buddie spec that has no basis besides the voices in my head? sdoaksoaksokasokasoak yes ! me i always like to read your metas and what you have in mind

thank you for the support oaksoaksoaks

okay, I'm gonna start this off by saying this whole thing hinges on whether or not the show is gonna keep mirroring Buck and Eddie's personal journeys and this is mostly about Buck, I have no idea what they're gonna do with Eddie lol. First of all, this set back when the finale aired about the similarities between Buck and Taylor and Buck and Natalia and that illustrates it beautifully, the whole she came back, they seem happy, are they really? and that's a point against Natalia lasting in my opinion. But the thing is, I think Bucktalia also mirrors Eddiana, and that's when things start to get interesting in my brand of insanity. You have Buck treating Natalia's hand, you have Eddie treating Ana's, Ana and Natalia being reduced to their jobs, the first date in broad daylight in a cafe of some sort, a second date at home being interrupted by the rest of their lives (if you push a bit and think about Kameron's pregnancy, both dates are interrupted by their children even if the baby isn't Buck's on the ways that matter), you have the picture-perfect ending at home after a near-death experience, so the parallels are there too. And that means one important parallel, Buck holding on for the wrong reasons the same way Eddie did, which could doom that relationship further, but also leave Buck spiraling. Because if we're comparing personal journeys, Buck is in a state that's a mix of season 4 Eddie trying to be happy through the trauma and outside looking in/fear-o-fobia Eddie. I think we can even directly parallel some stuff, like, I truly believe the cemetery is the way Buck would handle the outside looking in kitchen talk if that went the other way around.

But the thing is, Buck needs to deal with the shit that happened to him before getting together with Eddie so I'm choosing to look at these as fuel for my Buck Breakdown beliefs. Unlike Eddie, Buck actually died, so that changes the dynamic a little bit, there's also the way that Buck doesn't care about his own life enough to break over dying, but while Eddie's PTSD has many triggers, the thing that actually breaks him is the knowledge that he didn't save the people he thought he saved. So my grand theory here is something happening to Maddie, Bobby, or Christopher that makes Buck lose it. I don't really think they would do something to Chris, but using him would have a similar effect if it wasn't for the fact that it would also break Eddie. Eddie himself doesn't count in this situation unless is both Eddie and Chris, because Buck would be forced to keep it together if something happened to Eddie for Chris' sake. Or maybe if they like, killed off the Buckley parents and forced Buck to deal with that grief. But Maddie or Bobby, dangerous situation, close call, hospital stay, honestly, something that would leave them in enough danger to trigger Buck, low-key don't think you need much to trigger that man. But trigger, Buck losing it, Eddie talking Buck down (how would Eddie find out Buck is losing it? I don't know, plot convenience, I like the idea of divorced-era Buddie and Eddie storming the loft because he's tired of Buck's bullshit and finding him, or maybe someone from dispatch calls Eddie because there's been a call from Buck's address, I don't know, they can get creative there), Buck working towards working his own shit out. But we're in this weird season 4/season 5b mix, right? How do we end s4? Near-death experience that calls back to a previous trauma, big revelation, aborted love confession.

One thing I refuse to compromise on is the fact that Eddie had his oh! moment during the shooting (it's my truth I am not letting it go) so you can probably see where I'm going here, right? A Buck in a better mind space almost dying by chance, getting saved by Eddie, and realizing something. You see the vision? Current vision goes back and forth between equipment malfunctioning, Buck falling, and Eddie being the only one close enough to get to him, this usually goes around a cliff, a bridge, and Buck falling into water (I know the truck bombing is not technically equipment malfunction but equipment did try to kill him, and water is Buck's worst enemy lol), or Buck and Eddie stopping to help someone, and shit going to hell, this vision usually goes with Buck and Eddie seeing a car crash of some sort, again someone drove off a cliff or off a bridge, they go to help, Buck gets trapped in the car, Eddie needs to save him (trapped under a vehicle, water) or just straight up having them drive of a bridge. Because something really big about the shooting is the way that, one it happened by chance, two they weren't supposed to be there, three Buck didn't have anyone he trusted there so he did the saving alone, and four by having Eddie get shot, you're bringing up why he left the army. So with Buck, if they stick to this pattern, you need to drown him or trap him under something, or both. And you have the way the lightning parallels the well and the shooting, and the well triggered something for Eddie, you have the whole you need to keep fighting, find your own way out, the suffocation aspect for both of them when you realize Eddie is about to drown and Buck's lungs are not working, and also the way Buck is supposed to learn something during his coma that could lead to a conversation similar to the will reveal. This is when the vision gets cloudy. Because ideal world, the reveal is Buck's feelings and we don't have an aborted love confession, we have a plain old confession, but the aborted route is always a possibility with a see you in season 8 thing.

But yeah, Buck breakdown, Buck starting to deal with his shit, near-death experience, Eddie having to save him alone, tense conversation after. I'm also slightly obsessed with what could happen in a scene where Eddie is dragging Buck out of the water, cpr, mouth to mouth, "you're not doing this to me again", Buck coughing up water while sitting up, Eddie catching him, "I got you, I got you". The possibilities are ENDLESS. Just put Ryan's emotional power to work. All those fun things oskaoskaoskoaksas

Also, this mostly hinges on Buck doing something to change their relationship because considering Buck tripped into 4 relationships, he needs to start this one. I'm a firm Buck needs to do something first believer. Buck's endgame relationship needs to start with him making a move. Also, my whole Buck needs to choose thing is all about Shannon saying that Eddie keeps making all the choices, so Eddie needs to let go of control and Buck needs to go for what he wants.

[pyramidladleader]

I am going to try to refrain from mentioning griffguts or being preachy in response to this reblog as the arguments seem logical at first. There are three points in this post that I view as blatantly false and I'd like to both explain my pov and why I love the female characters of berserk so much.

Point 1: The majority of characters have writing flaws or not enough screentime.

This one really confuses me because I can't really think of major writing flaws in any of the characters mentioned (except debatably Casca but we will get to that later) especially Farnese (who has the best arc in the series second only to Guts who is y'know the main character) and Shierke (who has a wonderful little arc of grief, mentorship, and accepting a new family). Yeah technically most of the characters I mentioned didn't have much screentime but that's because they're mostly side characters and aren't as important to the larger plot or Guts' internal character. Even with reduced screentime Luca is one of the most lovable characters I've ever seen, Flora is wonderfully mysterious and pushes along Shierke's arc, and Erica is debatably the straw that breaks the camel's back for Guts and is one of the major reasons Cracks in the Blade is the best chapter of fiction I've ever read.

Point 2: Miura's writing is sexist and reduces the writing of female characters to plot devices in the name of male characters.

I won't lie this is probably your best point and is easily the most contentious part of berserk for me. However I do think the only times Miura was ever blatantly sexist was with Wyald and the Troll Cave and every other time is a side effect of how berserk changed from and external story to an internal one. Pre-conviction Berserk is about the interpersonal relationships of Griffith, Guts, and Casca or the people around Guts as he holds his temper tantrum. After-conviction the story focuses more on Guts' internal state as he improves as a person while also switching to the pov of the Neo Band of the Hawk as the rest of the world progressively gets colonized by Falconia. The unfortunate side effect of this shift is that almost every character that can't directly affect the Falconia plotline or can't communicate with Guts is severely reduced. This leads to people saying that Casca as Elaine as a plot device just to move along Guts' character and I would agree... if Corridor of Dreams didn't exist. Corridor of Dreams shows us that a small part of Casca was aware the whole time and we see her strife and the pains she had to wrestle with forcing her to regress into Elaine. This mini arc also happens to star only female characters while being the second best mini arc in the manga. Corridor adds complexity and tragedy to Casca as Elaine without having to use Guts as a vehicle for that. this conversation about the sexism in berserk is infinitely complex and much too deep a question for my tiny little tumblr post to delve into fully. I admit I have my biases but I really don't think that Miura was trying to directly be sexist with any of his major female characters.

Point 3: Gutsca is toxic and not compassionate

I will keep it a buck, this was your dumbest point by far. I may have miscommunicated my opinion on Gutsca so I will state it here without any doubt: Gutsca is a beautiful and compassionate ship of two people who truly understand each other that was ruined and torn apart by the actions of Griffith. Guts still loves Casca post eclipse but he cannot have those feelings reciprocated and, mirroring Griffith, has a temper tantrum about it which the store reprimands heavily Guts has to come with terms with the fact that his love may never be able to love him back again even with her mind restored. He has to realize he can never kill the monster that did this to him. He has to realize that all he can do now is protect the ones he loves. Gutsca was always doomed with Griffith around and the beauty of that relationship died because one man couldn't hold himself together. It shows the cruelty and beauty that is the nature of love and the world itself. Calling it toxic after it concluded is absurd.

Sorry for the long ass response I really really really like berserk if you couldn't tell. I might have made some messy points here but I tried to remain objective and not to rock the boat on Griffguts because yeah i still have opinions on that ship I will take to my grave. Lmk if I said anything dumb as hell here. Berserk is my favorite series to pick apart and analyze so I'd love to hear what you have to say about it.

The misogyny in the berserk fandom is actually crazy bruh

Like I just saw someone say that a gutgriff amv is all that you need to know about berserk ignoring all of the wonderful characters not named Gut or Griffith. People who've only seen the anime have no excuse either cause Casca is easily the most complex Golden Age character and seeing her turn into a yaoi victim is really disheartening. Farnese, Shierke, Flora, Isma, Luca, Erica. None of these characters get nearly as much appreciation despite their importance and complexity. I have opinions on gutgriff I will not spill here but my main frustration with the berserk fandom on tumblr is the fact that people on here will criticize Miura's writing choices as sexist and then shaft all female characters in the name of a toxic yaoi ship. Worst part is that the same aspect of the fandom with mpreg guts and femto appreciation blogs is the least toxic part of the fandom. Casca I'm sorry girlie you deserve better.

[santakinard]

Okay but I am not over how Buck was so clearly framed as the "person who had to watch their love almost die right in front him but now has to take the full responsibility of taking care of their son and continue to work all while being a complete and emotional wreck".

Like when Buck had "the hardest job" - Chimney perfectly put it- and went to tell Christopher about Eddie and was trying to reign in his emotional turmoil, once he saw that Eddie had made it through surgery he just could not keep it in anymore. He completely broke down and CHRISTOPHER was the one to comfort BUCK before they both comfort each other. Which I always go absolutely feral about bc even though Buck wears his emotions on his sleeves we all know how he tends to put others first. We saw how he was trying to reign in his own grief so he could be there for Christopher. Because being there for Christopher was the most important thing in Buck's eyes, his own emotions be damned. An yet once that he saw that Eddie survived surgery and was going to be okay, he could not control it anymore.

And then we see him staying at the Diaz house and taking care of Christopher. However, Chris is the one who has to wake up Buck to school. That lil moment reminds me so much of a scene in Practical Magic where Sandra Bullock's character, Sally, is grieving the death of her husband and her daughter tries to wake her up to take her to school while Sally is numb just completely overtaken by her grief. We see Buck be the same way. And even though he does get up and takes care of Christopher and goes to work, we see how not okay he is. so much so that he wants get shot by the sniper as well

Which leads me the integral scene with Buck and Bobby. We all talk about the BLATANT parallels between Buddie and Bathena that this episode beautifully showed, but I gotta talk about it again. Right when Eddie had gotten shot, Bathena had the biggest fight of their marriage. But once they got their feelings out from the fight and was effected by the shooting, they had a honest conversation about what was bothering them. Which hugely consisted of Bobby talking about what it was like to witness what happened to Athena and how it effected him. Which brings me back to the scene with Bobby and Buck. When Bobby tells him that what happened to Eddie wasn't his fault, we get a DIRECT parallel with Buck saying "No but I was just the guy standing there who couldn't do anything about it" to which we get Bobby just staring at him in what seems to be a knowing look mixed shock and recognition. Because that was what he was literally what he was talking about with Athena. In the end of s3 with what happened to Athena and then in this season as well (especially this season) we see Bobby talk about and deal with witnessing HIS WIFE having a traumatic near death experience. Which was blatantly paralleled with Buck's trauma and grief with Eddie. (Two ppl having to witness the person they love most/their spouse almost die.)

But the parallels don't end there folks. No sir.

Not only do we get a hospital scene with both Bathena and Buddie but there are so many parallels in the Bathena hospital scene with Buddie. First we have the obvious of Athena sitting at Bobby side like Buck sat by Eddie's side as they both have emotional conversations. But whereas Buck mentions how he thought it'd been better he had been the one who had gotten shot instead of Eddie, Athena talks about saving Bobby.

Which I would like to point out the parallel of Buck helping Athena save Bobby and his knowing look when she said that it had to be her to save her husband. He understood that need and helped her be the one to save Bobby and not the actual firefighters (of course there's other reasons for Athena being the one like the guy having a gun but still).

But back to the hospital scenes parallels. In Bathena's hospital scene and the second one for Buddie (aka the Will™ scene), both relationships have a certain... shift if you will. Bathena's issues are fully solved and their relationship has grown even more for the better. And with Buddie the shift is also a growth in their relationship, just in a different way.

Because seeing how Eddie getting shot effected Buck and made him think so lowly of himself that he thought it'd be better if he was the one who got shot but also saw how Buck to continued to take care of Christopher despite of it, Eddie decides to finally tell Buck about the will. It's not only a shift of finally acknowledging the will after keeping it a secret for so long but a shift in how they're relationship is going to be for now. Sure, they already planned to always be in each other's lives but this seals it.

And what helps both relationships shift as all is what Athena and Eddie tell Bobby and Buck, respectively Athena tells Bobby that she couldn't let a little fire keep her from saving her partner. That right there is Athena reaffirming that Bobby is her partner, that she acknowledges the issues they had talked about previously about not acting like equal partners and reaffirms that they are fact partners. But then she also shows how much she loves Bobby. He's her partner in every way and she would (and did) walk through literal fire for him (which in LS we saw Judd use an example to show how much he would show Grace how much he loved her). Athena not only reminds Bobby how much she loves him, how she feels, but also tells him what he needed to hear that moment with what they were going through (especially with his lingering issues with what happened to Athena s3).

Now, with The Hospital Scene™ with Buddie, we get Eddie telling Buck about the will (which, given the fact that he kept it hidden for a year ass year indicates that it was a pretty big deal for Eddie to finally tell him) and Eddie does it because of what he also tells him. That Buck, Evan, in fact not expendable. That he knows Buck's perception of himself is that he's expendable, that Buck thought it'd be better if he was the one who got shot.

So how does that parallel the scene with Bathena? Well, Eddie shows Buck just how much he trusts him with Christopher (aka his heart and soul). They are partners already, but this just takes their partnership even further bc yeah, Eddie had already told Buck that 'there's no one else in this world I trust more with my son than you', but this both reaffirms that and takes it a step further. Because he made it legal that he'd rather Buck take care of his son more than his family. This reaffirms his trust in Buck, their partnership. Just like Athena reaffirmed hers and Bobby's partnership. Just like how she showed Bobby just how much she loved him by walking through literal fire for him, Eddie shows how much he loves and cares for Buck by entrusting Buck with the most precious thing in the world to him aka his son. And just like how Athena telling Bobby that is what he needed to hear, Eddie telling Buck about the will and showcasing the biggest insecurity that Buck was going through at the moment, that he's thinks that he's expendable but he's wrong.

Both Eddie and Athena saw how what happened to them effected their partners and they both have these things to help their partners with it (and themselves).

In conclusion, all of this shows the framing of Buck being the "grieving partner who had to deal with watching the love of their almost die". Because almost all of those Bathena parallels dealt with what Bobby had to deal with witnessing Athena almost die and how the aftereffects which directly paralleled with Buck was currently going through in that episode. And the of end episode (as well as Buck's season arc) getting a reaffirmation from his partner and consolation of how what happened to them effected him. Just how Athena did with Bobby.

Say it with me folks: Choices were made.

Thank you for coming to my Tedtalk.

[syven-siren]

The Other Side

Summary: Your loyalties have always resided on the side of doing what’s right but knowing which side is the right one becomes more complicated than you had originally thought. When the ideals of Karli Morgenthau put your loyalties to the test, you find that the side you’ve been on may not be the right one for you.

Warnings: Some angst / That’s about it / Platonic Relationships Abound / Platonic!Bucky x Reader / Platonic!Sam x Reader / Platonic!Karli x Reader / Oh & John Walker is still an asshole kinda

Requested by Anon: “would u ever do anything karli x f! reader?? i haven’t seen anything for her :( like maybe reader is working with sharon, sam, and buck? yes please! anything w fluff/angst is fine w me!! maybe like an avenger reader where she has powers like wanda? and she’s conflicted about what side she should be on, it can take place during any episode :D...”

Word Count: ~2k

The call is strong today. It’s not the ghostly siren’s song that usually lures you to the other side. Instead, it is a gut-wrenching wail of deep loss; the kind that radiates deep in your chest and seeps into your bones. There is no ignoring it and so you settle into yourself. With each inhale, your body becomes grounded and heavy, anchored in its spot. On the exhale, you relinquish the hold of your physical self. Your mind centers its focus on nothingness. Thoughts rise and fall. All acknowledged but allowed to drift off with no energy given to them.

Eyes closed and breathing even, you wade through the thick fog of the past, present, and future. Blurs of souls and emotions all seep into each other, creating one single stream of consciousness. And your trance remains unbroken, even with time ticking on around you.

Curious eyes scan your form, observing its complete stillness, “She’s off moonwalking again.”

“Buck, c’mon man. I told you when she’s like that, it’s meditation.” Sam lectured, rolling his eyes at the other man’s insistence of referring to your gift in such a childish manner.

“Fine. She’s meditating,” Bucky huffs out, plopping down in front of you.

Their voices are distant, echoing along the darkened tunnel of consciousness. And still, you trudged onward through the bleakness. The end of this plane and the beginning of another is ahead. You can see it, the mirror of reality. It is the final passage into the next.

The reflective surface ripples as the threads of existence flow through it. Its power pulls at you, tugging you forward towards its embrace. And you obey. The tips of fingers feel the chill of the new world first, followed by your palm and then your wrist.

With the slow caution of a timid animal, you step forward, submerging into the iridescent pool. Your breath is stolen by the magnitude of the shift but in an instant, it is over.

Never will you overcome the awe of seeing your physical form sitting next to you. You take a moment to steady your projection. The head-spinning effects of the shift weigh heavy, bringing with them waves of nausea. It is not until they pass that you take notice of the others. Bucky, still seated in front of your true body, converses with Sam. Neither takes notice of your second figure. You feel so much like a ghost in this form, only seen by those whose cry you hear.

Slipping through the front door, you step onto the streets of Riga. The call of sorrow is still there but the strength of it has nearly tripled. It pierces your eardrums and bounces around in your skull. As you grow closer to its source, that feeling of suffering becomes all-consuming.

The guiding noise routes you to a collective of shuttered buildings. Gaggles of children play outside while the adults putter around, sullen and sad. Though each is doused in grief, none are the one you seek. And so you continue on, making your way through the dilapidated shelter.

There is another noise. Softer and more menacing is it. A rattle of chains scrapes along the floorboards and echoes through the hallways. Your body seizes with the cold chill of acknowledgment.

Death is here.

It is the cause of the outcry, the source of agony that permeates through this place. The room you enter is shrouded with heartache and it is here that you find her, lamenting over a sickly woman.

"Karli." Her name is a mere whisper from your lips but her keen hearing picks it up. The red curls haloed around her head bounce as her neck swivels in your direction.

“How did you get in here?” She darts around the bed. Her steps are quick but filled with blazing intensity. You stumble away, retreating until your back is against the wall. Her forearm presses along your throat, pinning you with such force.

“Wait. Wait, please. Don’t. I’m not here to fight. I just want to talk.” Hands up in surrender, you beg for her to listen.

Eyes narrowed, she applies more pressure against your airway, “How did you find me?”

“I could feel your pain. I followed the flow of it to you.” She doesn’t seem to believe you. You don’t blame her for that. Not many understand the nature of your powers. “I’m very sorry for your loss. I can feel your hurt. She was a mother to you.”

“Stop. Stop talking.” Karli’s words are growled out but reflected in her eyes is deep despair. The burden of carrying a movement on her young shoulders has taken its toll. But the pain of losing the beloved woman seems to have strengthened her resolve.

“She and the others are the reason you’re doing this. I can feel your courage and the suffering. It’s how I found you. My power lets me travel along the planes of existence to find those that call out.”

Time seems to move slowly before she finally decides upon her next action. In a display of the raw power she possesses, her grip on you tightens before in an act of mercy, she releases you. “They say I’m a terrorist.”

“And what do you think you are?” You follow behind her as she moves to once again take up a vigil near Donya’s body.

“The lynchpin to change.”

“I’d like to see.” You kneel beside her and when there is no mention for you to get away, you continue on, “To know your reason. If you’ll allow me to be a witness to it. There’s something about you, about your cause that calls out to me. I— I need to know...Please.”

Karli says nothing, only looking at the trembling hand you offer her. It’s silent. The wails have ceased and death has already swept over the room, ferrying the soul away.

There’s a hesitation before her calloused palm is laid on top of your own. The instant rush of memories crashed down upon you. The moments of childhood joy are few and far between. Forced to mature too soon, she found a path of meaning in protecting others. Right or wrong, her choices are made with reverence of others. You drown in flashing images of her young life. The brutality of them flares in your heart, scorching your soul and etching her pain on your entire being.

You reel away from Karli. Clutching at your chest as it becomes harder to breathe. The tethers tying you to the spiritual plane snap. Whiplashed along your previous path, your consciousness is flung back into your physical body. Gasping, your eyes spring open and capture the pensive faces of Bucky and Sam. The deep-seated ache has followed you home, staying with you even as you reorient yourself to reality.

“He was right. I went moonwalking again.”

The uproar is immediate. Both men talking over the other as they reprimand you, “I thought we talked about this. You don’t project without letting us know.”

“I didn’t realize I had to get permission to use my power.”

“It’s not that you need permission but you still don’t have full control. What if you got stuck or hurt?” Sam attempts to reason with you. The concern, though evident, doesn’t stop him from questioning what information you were able to gather. You give him bits and pieces, things that will not give away Karli or her small group of supports. Conflicted by your newfound sense of loyalty to the Flag Smashers leader, you retire to a far-off section of the safe house. No longer concerned with the plans Bucky, Zemo and Sam begin enacting, you return to the solace of your mind and sift through the images of Karli’s memories that are now ingrained in your brain.

——

“I have the will to complete this mission. Do the two of you?”

“She’s just a kid.” Sam counters Zemo’s question. Confliction draws his brows together, painting a more pensive expression on his face.

“You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there. You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist.”

“You’re wrong.” The conviction of your words causing the group of men to turn towards you. You glare at Zemo, angry with how he falsely accuses Karli of something you have not seen from her, “She is looking for a way to help people. Maybe it’s you who's too blinded to the suffering of others.”

Zemo scoffs and continues on with his speech on the affliction others will feel if Karli is allowed to exist. Irritation wafts off of him, only adding to your own and creating a vortex of high tension. As Sam and Bucky step in to keep civility, you challenge his ruling on the issue, “How can ignore the suffering she has gone through? Does that mean nothing to you, Zemo?”

“You mock me. Do not forget that I know of pain and loss. She will only bring more of it until she is ultimately consumed by it and leads the rest astray.”

“No, you are wrong!” Storming away, you do not hear his reply nor would you want to. He hasn’t seen what you have. He doesn’t know what Karli is fighting for, who she is fighting for. She shared her pain with you and you will not allow anyone to ignore her suffering.

——

“Sam, you need to let me talk to her. I know you’ve counseled people with trauma but I think it’d be better if I did this.”

“No, (Y/N). If things get out of control, she could hurt you.”

Replaying your conversation over and over again, you pace the small boiler room. It feels suffocating, even more so with the grief that those, gathered to pay respects to Donya, are experiencing. All their sentiments and the seething, misplaced anger of John Walker grate against the reserve of your emotional patience. Your powers strain against the formidable wall of negativity after multiple attempts to placate the turmoil.

You can sense John is at the end of his rope and the assumption is proven correct when he finally decides that he is going in. But he is met with resistance from both you and Bucky, “You need to let Sam do this.” Again, you bathe the room with serenity but it’s not enough. Tensions have boiled past the point of your help.

“He’s had enough time.” John pushes past your blockade, storming off towards Sam’s location. You give chase, attempting to reason with an unreasonable man. The new Captain America brushes you off, “I don’t need your input. Karli Morgenthau, you’re under arrest.”

Karli’s eyes widen as she backs away and accuses Sam of trickery. All hell breaks loose when Walker moves to detain the younger girl. Allies begin fighting amongst themselves and you dart after Karli, losing a trailing Bucky as you weave through hallways and turn corners.

“Karli, stop! We just want to help you.” Your fingers grip her jacket, jerking her back. The two of you tumble down the stairs, becoming a tangled mess of limbs. She fights you the entire way down and even after you’ve both landed in a heap at the bottom.

“Help?! You think that shield-wielding idiot wants to help. He’s just as power-hungry as the rest of the world.” Though she grapples with you, her strikes are not nearly as impactful if she had been fighting a different opponent. Her rage is ferocious, beating against you with all the same force as her punches. And yet hidden behind it all, you sense betrayal.

“No, not him. Sam and Bucky. If you just listen to them, you’ll understand. They don’t want you or anyone else to get hurt. I don’t want you to get hurt. Karli, please let me help you.” You break away from her, preparing yourself for the next onslaught of hits that never come.

“You really want to help? Then come with me. You see it, don’t you?” She advances towards you, extending her hand, “You aren’t like the rest of them. You know what we are fighting for. You can help all these people with your power. Help me make a better future.”

You search her eyes for deception but just as before, you find not an ounce of it. Instead, the images of the past and future revisit you. The hope of brighter days that she firmly wants to see through takes over the very fibers of your being. Whether you take her hand now or not…Whether or not you truly believe in the cause, you know you will always believe in Karli Morgenthau.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. It really helps when you do. Thank you!

Avengers Masterlist

A/N: The reader’s power involves emotional manipulation and astral projection (Bucky likes to call it moonwalking since ‘astral’ usually refers to stars or something more paranormal) 

[avintagekiss24]

SUNBEAMS & RHYTHMS || STEVE ROGERS; BUCKY BARNES

pairing: Steve Rogers x blind!black!reader x Bucky Barnes || word count: 5,414 || warnings: mentions of depression, mentions of anxiety, mentions of insomnia, mentions of suicidal/dark thoughts, mentions of surgery/side effects of surgery (seizures/medications), smut, sex, threesome (m/m/f), polyandry/polyamory || challenge: @jbbarnesnnoble​​ mental health awareness month writing challenge - “the warmth of the sun fell over you like a blanket in the middle of winter.”

author’s note: this was such a great challenge, but please heed the warnings! we’re dealing with some sensitive issues in this one. I hope you guys like, and I also hope that I’ve handled this correctly! this is my first time writing a disabled reader. let me know what you think please :) and thank you all so much for all of the love since I've been back from my little hiatus! major inspiration from this post. I’m also getting used to a new laptop, so if there’s any weirdness in this post that’s why, lmaooo. okay, I'm done talking, enjoy!

The room is shrouded in darkness - but not that you’d notice anyway. Your body is covered by the thick duvet thrown over the bed, your face buried in your hands. A splitting headache forces your eyes closed, but you’re used to them. The headaches. They started a few years ago, out of nowhere - you just thought it was stress, or, maybe not getting enough sleep at night. You didn’t pay them any attention at first.

They got worse. They got to the point where you couldn’t get out of bed. Your vision would get blurry. Steve suggested a doctor - you said no, it’s just a migraine. You’d be fine. He insisted after a few more months went by, and your headaches got worse, your vision worse.

You still remember it like it was yesterday. You sat there, stunned into silence. Your whole body numb. Steve grabbed your left hand, Bucky your right, as the room started to spin - the doctor's voice fading away as she spoke. Brain tumor. It was so large now that it was pressing on your optic nerves, making you slowly go blind. Within months, purples and greens and blues and pinks were all replaced by nothing. Not even black - it was just nothing.

The last clear thing you remember seeing were the tears in Steve’s eyes and Bucky’s metal arm thrown over your hip as he held you tight. You had to squint to make everything out, but Steve’s eyes were shiny - cloudy - as the emotion trickled down his cheeks. You wiped them away slowly with your thumb as you tried to etch his face in your mind so you’d never forget it. You wanted each line, each crinkle, each little freckle to be ingrained in you. You’d already spent hours staring at Bucky, doing the same.

You made them smile - soft ones, toothy ones, lopsided ones, just so you could remember them. Both men obliged, although Steve clearly couldn’t stuff his grief and anger down as well as Bucky could. Bucky was angry with him at first - telling him to stay strong for you. Surgery wasn’t going to be easy, mentally, emotionally, physically - they needed to stay strong for you. You told him not to be so hard on Steve. You were all dealing with the death - of the person you were, your relationship as it was - he was allowed to grieve.

You woke up from the surgery a few days later, tumor free, but almost completely blind.

Everything was just different from that point on. The medication after the surgery did a number on you. The steroids made you irrationally angry and agitated. Insomnia kicked in, you couldn’t sleep for days on end, so they prescribed you a sleeping aid. You couldn’t tell if it were day or night, so on top of the insomnia, your circadian rhythm was fucked - more medication. Your balance was off, you were confused more times than you weren’t, you had a seizure or two - bad ones.

That’s when the depression seeped in. You missed who you used to be. You were fun. You were wild - that’s how you ended up in a relationship with two men in the first place. You had a great laugh. You couldn’t hold your liquor for shit, and you had a great sense of style. You loved everything and everyone and now, you’re just a shell of that person. You end up laying in bed most of the day, days on end, as dark thoughts swarm around you, consuming the last spots of light you have left.

You’re a burden to them, Steve and Bucky. They’ve both had to leave the team, not wanting to be far from you in case something happened. Steve turned his shield over to Sam immediately upon hearing the news. Bucky stayed on for a while longer but wouldn’t leave the country, until even that was too much for him. He’s been home full time for a few weeks now.

The headaches now are from the new crippling anxiety and stress that you live with constantly. You don’t bother to put on anything but old t-shirts and sweats because, what’s the point? You can’t even remember what your favorite clothes look like. One afternoon, in a fit of rage, you pulled every article of clothing from the hanger and made Bucky tell you what color it was before you threw it away. You could only imagine him standing there, his hands on his hips, his head down, his voice low as he rattled them off - red, pink, yellow with white polka dots, navy blue and white stripes.

Between the irrational anger, the headaches, the insomnia, the feeling that your floundering - sinking just below the endless, dark water - you just want to give up. You just want to close your eyes and float away. Make it all end.

You hear the door slide across the carpet as it opens, and then heavy steps before a massive weight presses into the mattress. The duvet starts to shift but you grab it, stopping it from sliding off of your head and groan loudly.

“Bucky,” you whine, “Please don’t.”

He chuckles, “How d’you know it was me?”

His body wash. You used to laugh at the differences between the two of them - like day and night almost; but their juxtaposition is what made them, them. Bucky always went for earthy tones; rich - scents and colors alike. Naturally, his preferred body wash was heavier than Steve’s, distinctly masculine. Steve always liked a hint of sweet.

“Baby,” Bucky’s voice is soft and airy, “You gotta get up.” You don’t respond. You draw your knees into your chest as you feel him shift behind you, “Come on baby. We have a surprise for you.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

You can sense the smile on his face. He shifts again and suddenly you feel those metal digits slide up your spine. Slowly, slowly, slowly, they creep along your back and up to the back of your neck where he scratches at your hairline. You hate how short it is, your hair. You were natural before, took the utmost care of it. Steve helped you shave it off before surgery. Now, between the medication making it brittle and quite frankly, the lack of care you have, Steve helps you keep it short.

You let out a breath as Bucky’s large hand sweeps over your head, cupping it underneath the duvet before his digits find your ear to pull gently, playfully on the lobe, “Please? For me?”

You sigh. You let him pull the duvet away from your face. You start to blink quickly; jump slightly when you suddenly feel his lips on your cheek. You’re still not used to it yet, your senses aren’t - they’re getting stronger, you just have to trust them. You can hear your therapist's words like she’s sitting in the room with you. You relax though, when his cheek rubs against yours as he wraps your body up in a tight hug. You even smile a little as he kisses down your neck and along your shoulder as he rubs your hip.

You reach for him, finding his chin with your fingers. The short hair that grows along the bottom half of his face is prickly - sharp. You walk your fingers along his jawline and cup his cheek as he moans into the crook of your neck.

“Where’s Steve?” You ask softly.

“Packing up the car.”

You roll slightly onto your back, blinking at the nothingness as your fingers still move along Bucky’s face. You raise your second hand, sliding it along his left cheek, feeling him. You push your fingers over his lips, tracing them as you try and figure out what he’s feeling. Your hands move upward, over his nose, up to his eyes where you feel the crinkles on either side of them. He’s smiling; it’s a big one.

“Steve is really excited.” He says.

You picture an excited Steve. The light that fills his brilliant, blue eyes, the whiteness of his toothy grin. God, you miss his face, “Where are we going?” You ask after a moment.

There’s another kiss pressed to your cheek before he sits up, gently pulling your arms with him, “That’s the surprise.”

You let him pull you up to your feet. There’s footsteps again, coming down the hall, “Buck,” Steve says.

“She’s up.”

You turn your head in the direction of the door, dropping your chin to your shoulder, listening as the steps draw nearer. You close your eyes again and let another small smile spread on your lips when you feel soft fingers, Steve’s fingers, start to massage your shoulders. He kisses the back of your head and then your temple.

“Feelin’ better?” He whispers.

“Not really,” you answer honestly. You’ve never lied to them, there’s no use in starting now.

Silence drops over the room. You’re sure that they’re exchanging a quiet conversation, their eyes bouncing back and forth between each other, “Guys?”

“Still here,” Bucky answers, “Hands up, let’s get you dressed.”

You oblige, lifting your arms over your head as he pulls his old t-shirt away from your body, “I can dress myself.”

“Just let us help you.” Steve says gently, his hands slipping into the sides of your sweats to push them down your legs, “You know we’ve always liked pampering you.”

That they have. It’s been a long time since you’ve let them. Their hands feel familiar but yet different - you weren’t really paying attention to the feel of them before. Now that it’s all you have, the feel, you notice the difference between the two of them. Steve’s hands are a little softer than Bucky’s, but he hasn’t worked in over a year, that’s what you suppose anyway. Punching people and gripping various guns and knives are killer on the hands.

Once you’re stripped naked, Bucky places your arms back by your sides. You feel Bucky’s hands (his are calloused still) on yours within seconds, then, a slick material against your fingers.

You squint, “Is that a bathing suit?”

“It is. Your favorite one. Remember what it looks like?”

“The blue one?”

“With the polka dots.” He presses it into your palm, letting you feel it, “The strapless one, that sinches in the middle of your chest.”

You smile a little as you run your fingers over it. The stomach is cut out, the waist high. You liked it because it made your ass and your boobs look incredible, “I love this one.”

He kneels in front of you, grabbing your hand and placing it on his shoulder as Steve places his hands on your hips - steadying you, in more ways than one. Bucky lifts your left leg by your ankle and helps you step into your bathing suit, then moves to the right foot, sliding the soft material up your legs. Once his hands reach your waist, Steve takes over, grabbing the suit and pulling it up the rest of the way, up over your chest. He kisses your neck as you adjust the top over your breasts.

“Thank you.” You offer gently.

Steve pushes your hands above your head again and slips something soft down your arms and over your head. Bucky grabs it and pulls it down your body, adjusting it slightly as you place your hands on your chest - feeling it. It’s a cover up, the white one you think; the one you got on your vacation in Maui. It has a stain on it. Steve knocked over the bottle of red wine the three of you were enjoying as the two of you danced on the patio of your ocean front room, Bucky watching you with a small, happy smile on his face.

“I like this one,” you say more to yourself than to them, “It makes my legs look long.”

“Your legs are long.” Steve chuckles, “Come on, shoes now.”

Once you're fully dressed, Steve takes your hand, starting to guide you towards the door. You slip out of his grasp, taking a breath, “I can do it.”

It’s thirty seven steps from here to the kitchen. That’s when you make a right and take fifteen more steps to make it to the garage door. From there, it’s five steps to the car, unless it’s backed out into the driveway - then it's between twenty two and twenty seven steps, depending on just where it’s parked. You’re getting the hang of things, no matter how much you hate it.

You feel them hovering behind you as you walk but they both respect your boundaries, letting you navigate the house without intervention. You slide your hands along the side of the car to the door handle and pull, the old door creaking just a little. Bucky isn’t much of a car guy, but Steve? This 1967 Chevy Impala was the only thing he and Tony could talk about without fighting. Steve gushed over it every time the three of you had dinner with Tony and Pepper. Then, one day, it was parked in front of the house with a simple note from Tony shoved underneath the windshield wipers - Capsicle, much like your face, I can’t stand to look at this any longer. Enjoy.

You slide into the seat and within seconds feel their thick bodies enveloping you, squeezing you between the two of them. The seat rumbles against your back as the car comes to life, the engine and mufflers loud as… you lift your hand to the shoulder on your left and run it the length of his arm, down to his wrist, gripping slightly as you go. It’s Steve, his arms are just a tad longer than Bucky’s you’re coming to find; more vascular.

You squint as the car backs down the driveway and the sun hits your face. You lift your hand, blocking the rays as you start to fumble around in front of you. You’re surprised at how sensitive your eyes have become to the UV rays. There’s a hand on yours, then your glasses pressed into your palm, the fingers not pulling away until you unfold them and slip them onto your face.

“Good?” Bucky asks.

You nod, “Good.”

The windows are down, the warm breeze whipping around you, caressing your skin. The radio is turned up - Dreams by Fleetwood Mac - as you drive. Bucky hums softly, his metal fingers linking with yours, his lips pressing against your temple every now and again. Steve taps along to the beat with his fingers against your bare, exposed knee before he squeezes it gently. You smile as you start to relax, Steve’s words coming back to you. Just let us help you. You know we’ve always liked pampering you.

You drive for a while, over an hour maybe. Then, the car slows as you turn and stays slow, creeping almost, like Steve’s looking for something. The car turns again and comes to a stop a second or two later. The engine dies, the two buff bodies shift away from you as the doors pop open. There’s a tap on your right shoulder. You reach out and feel on the forearm until you find a hand, Bucky, before he grabs tightly and helps you out.

“I’m gonna help you, okay?” His voice is soft as he rubs his chin against your shoulder.

“Okay.” You answer. You turn your head to your left and blink quickly, anxiety starting to rush through your veins from the unfamiliarity of your surroundings, “Steve?”

“Right here, baby.” His voice is soft too. You feel his fingertips brush along the inside of your left wrist, just to assure you he’s close, “You’re okay. I had to get the bags.”

Bucky slips his arm around your waist and keeps your hand in his as he guides you. You count each step. Bucky narrates every move - that you are in a garage, just about to enter a house. You’re in a small hallway, seven steps before a left turn, then you’re in the kitchen. There’s an island to your left, a kitchen table with four chairs on your right and if you keep walking straight, you’re in the living room. He lets you feel your way, reaching out to touch the walls, the backs of the chairs, the island, as he talks.

You stop when Bucky stops, and then hear something slide open before the sounds of water crashing fills your ears. You’re back outside, the warmth of the sun falling over you like a blanket in the middle of winter. A hand slips down your calf and wraps around your ankle before your foot is lifted and your shoe removed. A broad smile covers your face. You haven’t been to the beach since the diagnosis.

You take a step forward once you’re barefoot, one of them grabbing your wrist quickly, “There’s steps, babe.” Bucky says.

“How many?”

“Six.” Steve answers, “Here let me-”

“I got it.” You say dancing your fingers over the railing and taking small, cautious steps until you feel the first step, “I got it.”

They’re hovering again. You can’t see it, but Steve has both hands extending out on either side of you, ready to catch you if you stumble. Bucky jumps the railing entirely, landing softly in the sand and rushes to the bottom step, his eyes on you as you move down them slowly.  When you step into the hot sand, your smile grows - if that’s even possible. You wiggle your toes as the grains slip between them and the waves continue to crash not far from where you stand.

Steve and Bucky keep their small distance from you as you walk towards the ocean’s edge, knowing you're close when the sand changes from loose and dry to stiff and wet. The water washes up over your feet, the smell of salt fills your nostrils, the random calls of seagulls both near and far ring in your ears. You grab the hem of your cover up and pull it over your head, discarding it onto the ground without a care as you move deeper into the water - a new purpose, new life flowing through your veins.

You don’t feel them hovering anymore. You guess they’ve both stopped at the water’s edge, soft smiles on their faces as they watch a wave crash into you, making you stumble. You laugh, loud and carefree, as you fall on your butt, the strength of the water pushing you around slightly. You don’t know it, but Bucky’s smile widens and Steve’s chin trembles as they watch you find a meaning again.

Tilting your head to the sky, you run your wet hands over your head before you wrap them around your legs, bringing them into your chest. You let the sun beat down on you. You let the water wash over you. You let the tears come. You let them slide down your cheeks and fall into the water. You let the ocean carry all of your tears, sadness, anxiety, and depression away from you and out into the abyss. You don’t want it back.

You lay out underneath the sun for hours, making peace with yourself, becoming one with the sand, water, and sun. Steve and Bucky keep a watchful eye until you call for them. Then, and only then do they approach, hands and fingers and lips all over your damp skin. They lay with you, staring up into the sky and calling out the shapes of the clouds. They play with you, splashing water in your face and pinching and tickling your sides as the three of you laugh loudly. Wildly.

You feel like yourself again.

When the sun sets, and the breeze rolling off of the water turns chilly, making chills run through you and bumps pop up on your skin, the three of you head back inside. Door dash brings you a quick dinner, which you all inhale before heading back into the bedroom to bathe. Bathtubs are rarely big enough for the three of you, but you always make it work - sitting in Bucky’s lap, your back to his chest, Steve at the other end.

Steve shaves your legs slowly, dropping kisses on the inside of your ankle as Bucky massages the shampoo into your short hair. Bucky taps underneath your chin before he pushes his index finger into it softly, tilting your head back. He pours warm water over your hair, sweeping his hand through it to push the suds away. Just let us help you. You know we’ve always liked pampering you.

You stay in the tub with your boys until the water runs cold. You’re wrapped up in a warm, fluffy towel, Bucky rubbing his hands up and down your arms trying to warm you up as you shiver and laugh at yourself. A song starts to play from somewhere in the house, slightly muffled as the sound passes through the walls and down the halls. Dream A Little Dream Of Me. The duet between Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were long replaced by Captain America and The Winter Soldier by the time this version came out, but they love it all the same. It reminds them of home, they tell you.

You’re suddenly crushed against one of them - Steve. You know this because you run your hands along his chest to his shoulder, not feeling the jagged, deep scar where Bucky’s flesh meets metal. He grabs your small hand and places it to his chest as he sways with you, back and forth, turning in slow circles as Louis croons.

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear

Still craving your kiss

I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear

Just saying this

Steve spins you away from him and Bucky finds you, wrapping you up in his arms - an arm slung around your waist, fingers spread against your naked back as he holds your hand. You melt into him, humming softly as your toes brush against his, the soft sounds of your feet pushing along the hardwood floor beneath you adding a natural soundtrack.

Steve’s hands find your shoulders from behind. He presses his thumbs into your flesh as he squeezes and rubs slowly, his lips peppering your jaw and down your neck, “You’re so tense, baby.” He whispers.

“Depression will do that to you,” you chuckle, your new humor darker than what either one of them are used to. You feel them both stiffen at your words, hear a sad sigh from behind you, “Sorry. It was just a joke.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bucky says, “We want to know what you're feeling, good, bad or indifferent. You don’t have to joke with us.”

You take a breath. You rest your head on his chest and start to chew on your bottom lip, “I know.” Your voice is small.

Defense mechanism.

You fight the urge to cry. Your eyes start to water, your skin starts to flush with heat, your jaw gets tight. Steve grabs the back of your neck gently as he kisses your shoulder blade gently, just wanting you to feel him. Bucky keeps dancing with you as the tears start to fall, cupping the back of your head in his large hand as he pushes his lips to your forehead.

What is it your therapist says? You aren’t in this alone, or something like that. You never believed her, or those words - until right now. Right in this moment. It’s been a year of self imposed loneliness. Dark thoughts accompanied by even darker impulsions of wanting to slip underneath the water and never resurface. Fear and anxiety telling you that you need to push away - they’ll both leave you one day for a resemblance of normalcy again.

They haven’t.

They won’t.

The days have turned into weeks, have turned into months - and here they are. Slow dancing with you in the moonlight as Ella Fitzgerald plays through the walls. Bucky wipes at your cheek with his thumb, pushing the emotion away. He nuzzles his cheek against yours as you reach up and scratch at the nape of his neck to calm yourself, “We aren’t going anywhere, doll.” He whispers.

“We promise.” Steve adds on.

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Bucky tilts your head towards his and without a warning, his lips cover yours. Soft. Commanding. His velvet tongue massaging yours as Steve bites down on your shoulder.

The sheets of the bed are soon mangled and twisted, pillows cast to the floor as you writhe beneath Bucky’s heavy body. Your leg is thrown over his hip, your fingernails dig into his thick flesh, the tips of his long, soft, dark hair brushing over your face. You have your other arm draped over his neck as his hips push into yours, driving himself deeper and deeper into you. Your mouth hangs, as does his - lips brushing against each other, hot breath washing over each other's skin as you push your foreheads together.

Steve waits patiently, although his fingers dance over your breasts, his palms brushing over your nipples before he palms your skin. He squeezes and gropes before he sends his hand down your stomach and to your clit to rub gentle circles against it as Bucky pummels you. He’s on his side, his nose and forehead pressed against the side of your face, his bottom lip between his teeth before he nips at your jaw and chin.

He tears your hand away from Bucky’s body to grab his hard length, dragging your palm with his, down his shaft. He’s so warm. His tip wet from his arousal.

It’s been a long while since the three of you have made love. It’s been a long while since you’ve felt beautiful enough too. You hadn’t realized how much of your self esteem was wrapped up in your hair until you had to shave it off. You also weren’t sure if you’d like it the way you used to - handle it with the same confidence you once had. Not being able to see them - see their hard muscles and their strained faces while in the throws of passion. That’s what turned you on.

Not anymore.

It’s the way you can tell them apart without having to see them. It’s the feel of their bodies now, not the sight of them. How rough and dominant Bucky’s hips are in your darkness, how sweet and loving Steve’s touch is. Their sounds; both deep and desperate for you. How the sounds vibrate against your ear drums and skin, moving through you - the illicit response your body has to them - the sounds.

You slam your head back into the pillow as Bucky pulls out of you. You pant and moan as you arch your back from the mattress as they shift around. Steve’s lips, you know their Steve’s because they’re rushed; always rushing, rushing, rushing like he’s still a man running out of time, push against your stomach, light kisses moving down to your sex. He bends your legs back, your feet dangling by his ears as he nibbles on the inside of your thigh.

Bucky grabs your hand just as Steve pushes his nose through your folds and sucks you into his mouth. Bucky moves your hand down his hard stomach to his pulsing hips. You wrap your hand around his warmth and feel him pump up into it, a little grunt falling from his lips at the same time.

Steve hums as his tongue swirls around you, flicking and lapping at you as his index and middle fingers push into your cunt. You buck your hips into his face, using all of him, his chin, his lips, his nose to cop a feel as he sucks on you. He releases your flesh with a loud smack - then drags his wet mouth the length of your thigh, up to your knee, and along your calf as he sits up on his knees. He extends your leg, resting it against his chest and shoulder as he sucks your manicured toes into his mouth, his large hand caressing your calf.

Bucky growls as he sucks your taut nipple into his mouth and wraps his metal fingers around your throat. He then kisses your mouth, hard and desperate, moaning into you as he continues to push his hips into your warm hand and against your side. He squeezes, gently, slowly, causing you to gasp just as Steve pushes into your wet, slick, swollen cunt.

You groan into Bucky’s hot mouth as Steve starts to move. His thrusts are softer, gentler than Bucky’s - always have been. He keeps your leg curled over his shoulder, his lips peppering kisses along your ankle and calf, his other hand and fingers gripping your thigh. The cool metal of Bucky’s fingers skip over your hot skin, down between your breasts and to your stomach before he flattens his palm against you, pushing down to add some pressure.

Bucky bites your bottom lip, pulling softly before he lets go. He nuzzles back into the side of your face, the stubble on his cheek cutting across your skin. He wraps his hand around yours that still pumps his cock and glides it slowly up and down, up and down, up and down as he moans into your ear; heavy, hot breath caressing your neck and the side of your face.

Steve hits a spot; your toes curl. Your hips jerk - your muscles tense. Fingers begin to massage your clit, slow, slow, slow circles to draw out the sensation. Teeth nibble at your ear lobe. Fingers glance across your skin. Mouths and lips take turns on yours. Steve drives his hips harder and faster - pushing, pulling, pushing, pulling. Bucky breaths fire laced words, provoking you, prodding you, coercing you to just let it all go…

You shatter. It consumes every bit of you. Physically. Emotionally. Their hands and fingers are everywhere, gripping, pinching, holding as you come. Steve pulls out of you - he always liked to watch you come, how your sticky, swollen sex convulses with each contraction from your orgasm, your clit jumping. He pushes his fingers back through your folds as he pushes his cock inside of you again, also loving the squeeze.

You feel hot, quick bursts of silk, over and over, splash against your stomach. Bucky groans with each, right up against your ear, the sound vibrating through your entire body.

Heat then blooms inside of you - Steve. Your muscles constrict around him, pulling each warm, thick ribbon of cum from him, coating your walls. He pushes deep and grabs your hand, placing it right in the middle of his chest so you can feel his muscles tense and flex as he comes. Feel the soft rumble of the grunts that vibrate through his chest. Feel his heart.

He collapses beside you, your body bouncing against the mattress as his weight pushes against it. The three of you are nothing but heavy breaths and balmy skin. Eyelashes resting against your cheeks as your eyes close with the recession of your lust. A head rests on your chest. You lift your hand and slip your fingers through the tresses, finding them short and kind of wispy - Steve.

Metal fingers curl within yours, a sturdy leg thrown over your thighs. A hand splays across your chest. Lips connect with your shoulders and jaw - fingers massage and scratch at your scalp softly. It’s all a blur. The haze won’t let your brain try and figure out who is who; but maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s what you need. You don’t need to know. You can let go some of the control that you’ve been so desperately searching for.

You inhale deeply; and let out the breath you’ve been holding for over a year.

Your delicate fingers are lifted and pressed against hot lips - each digit receiving a kiss before being placed on a chest. The thump thump thump of a heart beat drums against them. You let out another breath as you nuzzle into their heavy bodies, soft I love you’s passing back and forth. There’s a faint skip of the record player down the hall. The soft whoosh of the breeze playing with the open curtains that cover the windows. Three bodies huddled in the center of the bed; just breathing.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

[karenwilson]

Buck and his romantic relationships

Honestly there is so much to dig into when it comes to Buck and his romantic relationships. There are some constants that can be found in nearly all of his relationships and some things that are constantly changing and evolving.

One think that strikes me about the women he has dated were strong and independent or arrived there at the end. Abby, Ali, Taylor, even Veronica they all stood their ground and were their own champions. They put their needs and mental & physical well-being first, something that society always expects women not to do. It's something I actually really appreciate about their storylines even if it comes with Buck being unhappy. None of the women set out to hurt him, they just didn't want to put themselves second. And that is perfectly okay.

But let's dive deeper into each of his relationships. Bear with me, it's a long one.

Abby Clark

Abby was his first serious relationship and now we know why. Due to his upbringing and his parents' abusive behaviour he never really forged any important relationships apart from Maddie. I think it got even worse when he got the jeep as he skipped from place to place, never staying for long anywhere. He didn't have ties anywhere and that made him restless and only seek out sex to forge some intimacy because that was all he thought he could get and something that would hurt him the least.

Anyway with Abby he was able to connect with a woman (one he wasn't working with anyway) on a deeper level. It only worked because it didn't start out as something physical. He didn't know what she looked, only knew her voice and good heart. I doubt they even would've met had it not been for the 911 calls, because they have so little in common.

Buck is actually pretty self-aware when it comes to his behaviour around women but hasn't really faced it before. That's why he tells her that he thinks it isn't a good idea if they meet, because he's worried he'll revert back to his usual coping strategies and it'll end up with him losing their connection.

But we also see that he's inexperienced and that although he knows how to seduce women he's lacking self-confidence in other aspects. He doesn't know unconditional love apart from Maddie and even that trust was broken when she didn't leave with him, when she left him behind. So he often worries he'll do something wrong and put her off; he goes over the top to get her attention - which he has done before in his life. Remember, he could only ever get his parents' attention when he did something big and reckless.

Abby has her own shit to deal with and Buck doesn't really know what to do with that in the beginning. It's not the light-hearted, sweet relationship he might have been hoping for but instead serious and heavy. But helped by Bobby's advice he works through his doubts and puts himself out there, puts Abby first. He always puts other people first, because that's who he is (and lbr, it's not healthy). Sadly to his own detriment because he is more invested than she is; Abby has her sick mother to take care of and is drawn in several directions at once. That's a heavy burden for anyone, especially someone working fulltime. She doesn't want to put her mother in a home as it wouldn't feel right but I also think it comes from a place of societal pressure for women to take care of other people. When her mother dies I actually thought it was a very real and important step for Abby to take put herself first, to take care of her own needs and do something that's vital to her claiming herself again.

I think Buck understands why she has to go but it still leaves him with the impression that he's never good enough, that people always leave. Because that's the experience he's made in life and nothing has changed that for him yet. And I totally get where he is coming from, that he believes it's his fault that she leaves, that he isn't good enough, that she doesn't love him enough. I do believe Abby never felt as deeply for Buck as he did for her but even if she did, sometimes love doesn't fix people. Abby was broken and exhausted and that's something Buck couldn't help with but that doesn't mean he wasn't enough.

She definitely did him dirty by leaving him in the dark and not giving him a clean break when she knew she was ready to move on.

Thanks to Maddie and the 118 he was able to partly work through those issues and put himself out there again.

Ali Martin

To be honest, Buck dating Ali came out of nowhere for me. Yes, they did connect a bit at the beginning of season two but I honestly didn't see her coming back as a love interest for Buck.

(And is it just me or do I just not remember it but Bobby stopped giving Buck relationship advice after Abby???)

But I thought they were really cute when they were together; the show just didn't make a very good job of establishing their relationship. They had to few scenes on the show but that was by design. I think the show never intended to keep Ali around, she was (sadly) just a plot device for the show to propel Buck's development. It established Buck's behaviours and the patterns in his romantic relationships. He years for deeper connections and a serious romantic relationship that he gets in too deep too fast. Buck doesn't do shit halfway, he gives it his all.

With Ali he was able to go the next steps of moving on from Abby, he had someone who made him happy for a while but of course the show had to reassert that people leave Buck, further damaging his self-esteem. I think it's perfectly understandable for her wanting to end their relationship at this point, when remaining in it would cause her too much pain and grief by always being worried about Buck and whether he would come home that night, would still be alive. That's a lot for anyone to deal with. So it was better for her to get out at that point instead of dragging it out and therefore making it more painful for both of them when it eventually ended.

But Buck doesn't view it as her leaving because of the dangers of his job but because of him. So yet another person leaves him because he's not enough, not right. Being a firefighter is important to Buck, he sees it as his calling, something he is good at and feels right. He defines himself by his job and that ends up doing damage, especially after the bombing and his subsequent leg injury. Buck feels lost when he can't do his job anymore because he feels like he IS his job. That's why Maddie telling him he's good enough and is worth everything even without his job was so important. His job is an important part of who he is but he isn't his job.

Taylor Kelly

I think with Taylor we saw the mere-exposure effect. Buck has a bit of a thing for voices as we first saw with Abby. With Taylor he knew her voice, heard her whenever he drove to work and obviously liked what he was hearing. And when he met her during that accident he was attracted to her not just by voice but by her looks as well.

Because of his dating experience with Abby and Ali and generally just trying to be a good person, he doesn't want Taylor to get the wrong idea. He likes her, possibly wants to get to know her more and doesn't want to leave her with the wrong impression. Taylor isn't having any of it, because she knows what she wants and what she wants isn't a relationship with him when they first meet. She's young, confident, successful and takes what she needs.

For Buck he has to cut the cord before he gets in too deep. He knows what he wants now and he doesn't want to fall back into his old habits of having sex and not having a meaningful connection. And if he doesn't get out he might fall too fast too hard already knowing it won't go anywere. Plus Taylor tries to expose secrets about his work family and quasi-dad and that would never work. Even if Buck wants romantic love he's not going to step on his 118 family to get it.

When they meet again more than a year later there are no hard feelings (whether that's amnesia on the writers' part or Buck has come to terms with her behaviour we don't know [yet]). Due to their previous actions Buck seems to think Taylor isn't a human being with feelings and hasn't been changed by the pandemic as well. I love Buck but it's ironic that he didn't want to hurt her in season two but inadvertently does so by using her as a shield in season four without her consent. I don't like what he did at all and Taylor was absolutely right on hanging him out to dry on that "double date" and calling him out on him using her like this, by not telling her what she was about to walk into. From her reaction we know he presented the situation differently because he (rightly) figured she might not come otherwise.

It'll be interesting for me to see where their relationship is going. I'd love for them to become friends and see where it takes them from there.

Veronica

I'm only including her for two reasons: She was Buck's first step to dipping his toe back into the dating pool again and acted as a catalyst to rekindle/change Buck and Taylor's relationship. Plus she also fits the strong woman type Buck goes for (although she additionally has a no-fucks-given attitude and isn't here to coddle anyone and their feelings).

To be honest, looking back on it Buck felt a bit OOC to me during their date. I mean yeah, he's just starting to date again and isn't used to doing it anymore and people change but... He didn't have a problem talking to Ali, Abby, Taylor or any of the women he chatted up with at bars and other places before. Why would he suddenly get so flustered? Even if they started on the wrong foot and he put his foot in his mouth... it just like it was put by the writers there for the laughs and not because it's how Buck would (re)act?? It just feels weird to me now. What did feel real to me was his need to impress her and makes sure she likes him, because Buck needs to be liked and he's really uncomfortable with somone not liking him and not knowing where he stands. He needs to clear the air now, to know what's going on so he can move on. After Abby and being left to doubt himself and being left in the dark about where they stand has left a mark on him (see also him making sure to talk it out with the 118 and especially Eddie after the lawsuit).

Well, that's it for now.

[hungryflowers]

Sensing Lamentation

Title: Sensing Lamentation

Rating: General Audience

Fandom/Continuity: Balan Wonderworld

Character Relationship(s): Leo Craig/Balan

Character(s): Leo, Balan, Past Character (Unnamed), Lance (Only Mentioned)

A/N: I’ve been in a funk for quite awhile, so I decided to do this to hopefully make me feel better. 2020 was a rough year and these last few days have torn out my soul. I want to write this as a small means of healing myself. Also, I’m a slight out of practice with my writing craft, so if any errors, I apologize.

Other: This isn’t a ship! Regardless of what the ‘Character Relationship’ part says, keep in mind that Leo is fifteen years old and Balan is potentially eldritch aged. He’s seen all sides of humanity, so he gets it. He’s not attracted to the boy, nor will I write him to be. Just putting that out there before y’all get to thinking that he a ‘cradle robber’ who lures in heartbroken kids.

He was more than content with sitting in the whist, luminescent room. Parchment on one end, tar-like ink on the other, the Maestro had made a day for himself to just... create. A tune swirled in his mind, the musings of the melody playing on repeat as he etched time out of his day to put it to paper. The endeavor was not a failed one, yet it hardly yielded the desired results. Feather to temple, Balan stretched his elongated back. Sunlight had eluded him in the short time he sat. Eyes glanced for the nearest time telling device in the room; eight forty-five. He had been at the same table, staying finicky over the same paper for the same tune for nearly four hours. Not a new reaction, yet he was normally more productive. Sighing, he adjusted his wide-brimmed top hat as he moved around to restock, stock, or keep tabs on anything necessary for anymore acts. 

The little tims peeped and scuttle along, following the maestro as if he’d been a pied piper. Playful eyes shimmered with glee as he picked up the few that straddled his lanky legs. Placing them on a crate, he kept at his inventory. They still peeped and chimed, more frequent and annoyed. 

“None of that...” A quiescent quip from the maestro had them calmed. It seemed that have to find another opportunity to have Balan’s attention. 

In the after math of busying himself with caring for little things, the maestro had failed to notice, or hear the subtle steps of a child passing by. The shock of hearing another breathing individual was enough to make him pause. Standing to his full height Balan went around looking for the soul whom had trespassed without him acknowledgement. He was quite forthcoming with introductions or having someone speaking to him before departing. It was in good manner to appear respectful to those around you. 

The steps he had neglected to hear before ventured up the stairs to the next floor. Which was quite odd, as only guests that Balan himself invited, or staff that convened there, were allowed upstairs. He had to rectify this immediately. Snooping was not tolerated under the maestro’s gaze. He kept his eyes on a sleeping chamber that was lit behind the sturdy mahogany door as he crept up the spiral staircase. On a normal day, he’d just float up and push open the door, however he still had enough respect to announce his presence before coming in. 

Standing in front of the door, his hand went to jiggle the handle, only to stop at the softest sounds of what he knew as sorrow. Eyes widened, his hand came off the knob as if he had been burned by it. There was a little one... softly sobbing in the chambers. He fought against an unusual impulse to shove himself inside, yet the longer he listened, the harder it became to ignore. He reminded himself to adhere to the rules and guidelines he had made for himself and Lance: do not interfere unless the justification is absolute. For some unspoken reason he felt the need to disregard his rule this only time. And with that impactful instinct hammering into him, he gave in. 

He knocked loud enough for the little soul to hear yet did not speak, waiting for someone to answer or reply. There was one solid minute without noise, the little one seeming to buck up after hearing the knock. When Balan knocked again, he earned a response, “Who is it? What do you want?”

Balan recognized the young man’s voice instantly. A shadow of sadness glazing his stare as he leant on the door a bit. What was making Leo so upset? Who could have caused such an unrest in the boy’s spirit?

“Leo... It’s Balan. May I come in?” He slid to his knees, in case the boy would open for him. After a moment, the heavy door slowly crept open, for Balan to view the young visitor’s face; that now appears wet from tears. 

Instead of asking too many questions, Balan just slid a bit closer to Leo, arms stretched enough to reach but not touch. A simple gesture to show he’d be there for him. 

Leo glanced at the gesture, measuring it to see what he’d want to do. His shoeless feet pawed the hardwood as he contemplated what he would do. He thought it would be best for the maestro to disregard the idea of comforting him. He’d remain a soldier fighting a battle on his own. Yet at the same time, he didn’t want that. And that juggle of care and carelessness caused more tears to well in his eyes before he opened his mouth. He barely caught a sniffle before he felt his feet leaving the floor. Blue eyes scanned his surroundings before he gauged that he was in Balan’s arms, embrace pulling him softly to his chest. Agony gripped the young boy as he sobbed into the maestro’s shoulder, tiny hands gripping him as if he’d disappear. 

Balan remained on his knees as the boy broke down, sun-yellow eyes closing as he allowed him the ability to let go. To let it hurt... if only for a while. The boy continued to sob as he motioned to stand, going into the chambers as his hands patted Leo’s back, slowing going into his hair to bring him closer. That hymn, the song Balan could not put to sheet, or find the right words to, came back. Only this time, the humming bled into words,

“When there is light, a shadow appears                                                                   the cause and effect, when life interferes                                                               the same rule applies to goodness and grief;                                                         for in our great sorrow, we learn what joy means,”

His little visitor opened his eyes in an attempt to look at Balan as he sang aloud. While he could see his smile, the wide brim of his hat obscured the rest of his face. He wanted to look at the maestro fully as he hummed the rest of the tune, rocking and hugging him as a mother would do for a babe. 

The maestro himself continued to hum the melody while pressing in as close as allowed. Softening his grip, he brought the little one to look at him. And became overwhelmed with the glowing vision of the boy staring back at him. Trusting him in this way. Words were not required to be exchanged while the maestro strode slowly to the large bed to lay him down. While Leo calmed down, Balan brought a chair over to sit near the bed’s end. 

“Leo, what troubles you little one? You can tell me. This place,” he moved his arms around the chambers, “is completely safe. Nothing leaves here. Your sacred words are for my ears only. Words that I will keep close to me. I promise.” He placed his immense hand on Leo’s shoulder as the boy relaxed into it. Taking a breath, he soothed over his raked nerves while he thought of the right thing to say. His chest appeared tighter than normal, fingers lacing together and fidgeting. In spite of his bravery to show his emotions to Balan, he still felt like a wounded, stubborn soldier; unable to admit that his wounds were draining him. His eyes strewn about the room instead of interacting with the tall, lanky figure.

Balan did nothing to prompt the boy to say anything quickly. No means to force him to confess to what was ailing him in this way without volition. So he waited. Patient and understanding. He’d talk when it is time. He watched him take a few short breaths then they locked eyes once more. The fragility was nearly enough to break the maestro’s heart. 

“I...I was just really upset about someone I used to know. We were real close. I loved them... they were like a sibling to me,” Leo sniffled as he pulled his hair back, “But then I said something wrong... and so did they. And then we never saw each other again. I didn’t... mean what I said, but I-I was just so-”

“Angry,” Balan stated, “You lashed out at them and now you’re feeling extreme guilt for it.”

“I guess I’m madder at myself because I left without giving them a reason, but what could I say?,” The young teen looked at the bed sheets as he rubbed his nose, “Have you ever been in my situation before?” Leo inquired after a second of thought. 

Balan blinked rapidly, the small smile he kept fading in surprise. It was an emboldened inquiry. Aureate eyes slid closed, reminiscing to the time he and Lance fell out. Harshly. Only, it was not Balan who attacked with scathing words. Nothing more could be said between as the maestro departed from the other with bolide of tears streaking the cosmos in his wake. Lance never created the courage to apologize for those words, no matter how many times Balan imagined that he would. It came as an acceptance of bad pride on both ends that kept the healing away from the two of them. Even if Balan was no longer in need of the healing. The words were said, there could be nothing in Wonderworld or in the actual world to change that. 

“Yes... but it was at a time I no longer remember.” Balan did not meet Leo’s eyes this time. His words were satisfying enough for Leo but he knew there was more to the story. 

“All I want to do is say sorry. But it’s too late.” The young boy put his head in his hands, a miserable whimper coming forth.

“Maybe... maybe not. Leo, I may not be able to give the proper answer about how you can ask for your friend’s forgiveness. However, I do know how you can forgive yourself. And that is to accept that friends can genuinely drift apart. Something in the relationship fissures and causes both of you to turn away from each other. You can accept the blame, Leo. That’s okay. But you shouldn’t be hurting yourself with that blame.” Balan’s gloved hand pressed to Leo’s cheek, making the teen look at him. The way that Balan smiled made Leo’s lip curl in sweet smile as well. 

“Thank you... so much. I really needed to hear that. I just felt like it was all my fault.” He pressed himself into the gloved hand, warmth radiating off the limb. 

“You’re most welcome, little one. And know that I’m here for you. With any insecurity, I’ll help you in the best way I can,” His head pressed to Leo’s, well not quite. The large hat obscuring leant on the boy’s forehead, which felt annoying for the point he was attempting to make. He half sighed and laughed before standing out of the chair. 

“One thing. Remember when I said that sacred secrets do not leave this space?”Balan’s tone hinted at something yet Leo couldn’t find what about it, so instead he stiffly nodded, “Okay good. Because I have a very sacred secret to show you. Only you.” He cooed as his hands went to his hat, the article of fabric coming off his face and head with a slow tug. With a shake, jade colored dreads fell free, his gloved hands fluffing them as he pushed a threaded dread away from his forehead. 

“There we go,” He stated mutely as he put the hat on a vanity in the corner, moving to sit back down in front of the awestruck child, “Yes I know. I’m so funny looking.” He grinned cheerily before setting his hands atop the bedsheets. 

“No you’re not...”, Leo scooted closer to Balan, the maestro still grinning happily as he did, “You look so beautiful.” The teen breathed whimsically, as if entranced by the sight of him. 

The grin was pulled off Balan’s face so quick, Leo felt as if he had offended him. Golden eyes flickering like candlelight in the lucent, yet dark room. For a fraction of a second, the world spun. He could see stars on the brim of his vision. After a great upheaval of air from his lungs, Balan came back. 

“Beautiful...? No one’s ever called me that before.” He chuckled sheepishly as he smoothed over his dreads. 

“But can I call you beautiful?” Leo became a bit shy, the poor boy looked as if he did something wrong. 

“If that helps, then yes. You are more than welcome to call me ‘beautiful’, little one.” The maestro bowed in the chair gracefully. He smiled genuinely while he pulled little Leo in for a hug, the teen leaning into him as he pressed into his shoulder. As they parted, Balan found his moment to press his forehead against Leo’s. Their contact was electric, stunning but completely welcomed as Balan breathed him in softly. Leo reciprocated the gesture, his small hands wrapping around the maestro’s neck affectionately. Oceanic, hope-filled orbs blended with the sunset gold ones in perfection. They stayed like such for a while, neither coming up with any words to justify this moment between them had. When they had to pull apart, Balan was the one who leant forward, as if not wanting the contact to come to an end.

He gets up, still holding the teen, to lay him down on the large bed. Leo relaxes in the maestro’s embrace as he buries his face into his neck. Balan didn’t stop the sweet, light-hearted laugh that bubbled forth as he encompasses the boy, swaddling him in the warmth of his body. They exchange a final look before Leo yawns softly. His eyes, previously stricken with tears of grief, now sparkle with ebullience and peace.

The remainder of the night was of Balan holding the little one as if he were the only thing in the world, his world, to think of at that moment. Surrounded by a jubilant contentment, he lain himself bare in front of this particular visitor for the first time in ages. So long as it was with Leo, he’d do it again. 

Over and over again.

[theliterateape]

I Like to Watch | Zack Snyder’s Justice League

by Don Hall

Mythology is fun.

As a kid I loved reading Edith Hamilton’s book on the Greek gods and the myths. Hercules, Perseus, Apollo, and Hera—this fell completely in line with my love for superhero comics. The strangely petty human traits of envy, greed, and lust combined with the power to level cities make for some great storytelling.

Zeus was basically Harvey Weinstein in the retroactive revision we’re mired in today. If Harvey could’ve changed into a golden animal and boned unsuspecting ladies looking for careers in Hollywood I’m pretty certain he would. The gods and demi-gods of the Greeks dealt with daddy issues, mommy issues, bad relationships, and fighting. Lots of fighting. Sometimes for the good of humanity but more often for the glory of winning.

Zach Snyder is in the business of tackling myths and reframing them with a style all his own. His career has become its own myth.

From Dawn of the Dead (not so much a reboot of Romero's zombie mythology but a philosophical reimagining of the genre that arguably jumpstarted The Hollywood fascination with it), 300 (a borderline homoerotic take on the myth of the Greek underdog), and Watchmen (a ridiculously ambitious attempt to put one of the most iconic takedowns on the potential fascism of the superhero legend machine ever written) to his nearly single-handed hack at answering the Marvel juggernaut with Man of Steel and Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice, Snyder is in the artistic business of subverting and re-envisioning the mythologies we embrace without even seeing them as such.

Snyder's style is operatic. It is on a grand scale even in the most mundane moments. The guy loves slow motion like Scorcese loves mobsters and Italian food. When you're tackling big themes with larger than life stories, the epic nature of his vision makes sense and has alienated a good number of audience members. With such excess, there are bound to be missteps but I'd argue that his massive take on these characters he molds from common understanding and popular nomenclature elevates them to god-like stature.

Fans of Moore's Watchmen have much to complain about Snyder's adaptation. The titular graphic novel is almost impossible to put in any other form than the one Moore intended and yet, Snyder jumped in feet-first and created a living, breathing representation of most, if not all, of the source material's intent. Whether you dig on it or not, it's hard to avoid acknowledging that the first five minutes of Watchmen is a mini-masterpiece of style, storytelling, and epic tragedy wrapped up in a music video.

Despite a host of critical backlash for his one fully original take, Sucker Punch is an amazing thing to see. More a commentary on video game enthusiasm with its lust for hot animated chicks and over-the-top violence that a celebration of cleavage and guns, the film is crazily entertaining. For those who hated the ending, he told you in the title what his plan was all along.

The first movie I saw in the theaters that tried to take a superhero mythology and treat it seriously (for the most part) was Richard Donner's Superman: The Movie. Never as big a fan of the DC characters as I have been of Marvel, it was still extraordinary to see a character I had only really known in pages to be so fully realized. Then came Burton's Batman movies. The superhero film was still an anomaly but steam was gaining. Things changed with Bryan Singer's X-Men in 2000, then Raimi's Spiderman, and those of us who grew up with our pulpy versions of Athena, Hermes, and Hades were rewarded with Nolan's Batman Begins. A far cry from the tongue-in-cheek camp of the 1966 TV Batman, Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne was a serious character and his tale over three films is a tragic commentary filled with the kind of death and betrayal and triumph befitting the grand narrative he deserved.

I loved Singer's Superman Returns in 2006 because it was such a love letter to the 1978 film (down to the opening credits) but by then, the MCU was taking over the world.

Snyder's first of what turns out to be an epic storyline involving perhaps seven or eight movies was Man of Steel. It was fun and, while I had my issues with the broodiness of Kal El, the odd take on Jonathan Kent, and a redheaded Lois Lane, I had no issue with Superman snapping Zod's neck. Darker and more tragic than any other version of the Kryptonian, it was still super entertaining.

Then came Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. By 2016, Marvel had codified their formula of serious characters wrestling with serious issues of power and responsibility peppered with lots of good humor and bright colors. Snyder's desaturated pallete and angst-filled demi-gods was not the obvious road to financial competition.

I'll confess, I hated it. BvS felt half-rendered. Lex Luthor was kind of superficial and played as a kind of Joker. The whole Bruce Wayne wants to kill Superman thing felt undeveloped and the "Martha" moment was just stupid.

When Joss Whedon's version of Snyder's Justice League came out in 2017, I was primed for it to be a turd and I wasn't surprised. So much of it didn't work on any level. I dismissed it as DC trying and failing miserably and was comforted by the coming of Thanos.

Following Thanos and the time heist was COVID. Suddenly, we were internationally sidelined and the movie theater industry caved in. Streaming services started popping up like knock-off smartphones and Hollywood was reeling, doing anything and everything to find a way back. Since Whedon's disastrous helming of Snyder's third act, fans online had been demanding to #ReleasetheSnyderCut but no one was ever really taking them seriously until all movie production was shut down for a year.

The stage was set to remedy a mistake (or at least make some bucks on a do-over of a huge box office failure). Snyder had left the production in part because of the suicide of his daughter and in part due to the constant artistic fights over executives looking for the quippy fun of the MCU but he still had all the original footage. Add to that the broiling accusations that Joss Whedon was "abusive" during the reshoots, the path seemed destined. For an additional $70 million and complete control, Snyder delivered a four hour mega-movie streamed on HBOMax.

Of course, I was going to watch the thing as soon as I could.

The Whedon version opens with an homage to the now dead Superman (including the much maligned digitally erased mustache on Henry Cavill). The SynderCut opens with the death of Superman and the agony of his death scream as it travels across the planet. It's a simple change but exemplifies the very different visions of how this thing is gonna play out.

Snyder doesn't want us to be OK with the power of these beings unleashed. He wants us to feel the damage and pain of death. He wants the results of violence to be as real as he can. When Marvel's Steve Rogers kicks a thug across the room and the thug hits a wall, he crumples and it is effectively over. When Batman does the same thing, we see the broken bones (often in slow motion) and the blood smear on the wall as the thug slides to the ground.

The longer SnyderCut is bloated in some places (like the extended Celtic choir singing Aquaman off to sea or the extended narrations by Wonder Woman which sound slightly like someone trying to explain the plot to Siri). On the other hand, the scene with Barry Allen saving Iris West is both endearing and extraordinary, giving insight to the power of the Flash as well as some essential character-building in contrast to Whedon's comic foil version.

One thing I noticed in this variant is that Zach wants the audience to experience the sequence of every moment as the characters do. An example comes when Diana Prince goes to the crypt to see the very plot she belabors over later. The sequence is simple. She gets a torch and goes down. Most directors which jump cut to the torch. Snyder gives us five beats as she grabs the timber, wraps cloth around the end, soaks it with kerosene, pulls out a box of matches, and lights the torch. Then she goes down the dark passageway.

The gigantic, lush diversity of Snyder’s vision of the DC superhero universe—from the long shots of the sea life in the world of Atlantis to the ancient structures and equipment of Themyscira— is almost painterly. Snyder isn't taking our time; he's taking his time. We are rewarded our patience with a far better backstory for the villain, a beautifully rendered historic battle thwarting Darkseid's initial invasion (including a fucking Green Lantern), and answers to a score of questions set up in both previous films.

Whedon's Bruce Wayne was more Ben Affleck; Snyder's is full-on Frank Miller Batman, the smartest, most brutal fucker in the room. Cyborg, instead of Whedon's sidelined non-character, is now a Frankenstein's monster, grappling with the trade-off between acceptance and enormous power. Wonder Woman is now more in line with the Patty Jenkins version and instead of being told about the loss of Superman, we are forced to live with the anguish of both his mother and Lois Lane in quiet moments of incredible grief.

To be fair to Whedon (something few are willing to do as he is now being castigated not for racism or sexism but for being mean to people) having him come in to throw in some levity and Marvel-esque color to Snyder's Wagnerian pomposity is like hiring Huey Lewis to lighten up Pink Floyd's The Wall or getting Douglas Adams to rewrite Cormac McCarthy's The Road.

I loved Snyder's self-indulgent, mythologic DC universe.

So much so that I then re-watched Man of Steel and then watched the director's version of BvS (which Snyder added approximately 32 minutes). The second film is far better at three hours and Eisenberg's Lex Luthor now makes sense. Then I watched Zach Snyder's Justice League a second time.

After nineteen hours of Snyder's re-imagining of these DC heroes and villains, I saw details that, upon first viewing, are ignored or dismissed, but after seeing them in order and complete, are suddenly consistent and relevant. Like Nolan or Fincher, Snyder defies anyone to eliminate even one piece of his narrative no matter how long. With all the pieces, this is an epic story and the pieces left at the extended epilogue play into a grander narrative we will never see.

Or maybe we will. Who knows these days?

[softbuckismykink]

Like a Stranger (Finally Found)

X-posted on AO3

Summary:

Evan Buckley never wanted to be a guide. Opening up empathically fucks you up. It happened to his Dad, it happened to Maddie’s ex. That’s why he chose to be numb. And he’s doing well up until for some reason their Captain decided they need another member of the team. Something is wrong with that Diaz guy. Buck is not sure what but the moment he laid eyes on the guy, there a strange feeling blooming in his chest. It must be loathing he decided. Because anything else would mean his empathic suppressants are failing and he can’t have that.

Eddie Diaz figured if throwing himself in a literal war didn’t activate his sentinel genes then there’s a high chance that it will never happen and he made peace with that fact. That’s why he moved to LA with his kid, less people knowing he’s that Diaz. The one who did not live up to the family legacy. Everything is going so well until he joined 118 and met Buck, the cute young firefighter who without a doubt hates his guts, which is really annoying Eddie because he can’t seem to find it in him to hate the guy back because every time Eddie looks at him he can’t shake this feeling that he finally found home.

Notes: Okay before you start reading please be warned that I'm a slow writer with so read at your own risk. I might update this tomorrow or it might take me a while to do it. Also this is not the fic that I'm supposed to post today but I'm not done with my firstson!Buck AU yet so here's another fic instead.

Chapter 1: What is this Feeling?

“I looked at him like a stranger, someone I’d never seen before, and he looked at me like I’d been lost to him for a thousand years and finally found.”

― Emme Rollins

*****

Evan Buckley never wanted to be a guide. Because in his experience nothing ever good happens to guides. Opening up empathically fucks you up. It happened to his Dad, it happened to Maddie’s ex, Doug. Guides equals crazy as far as Buck was concerned.

His dad was a good father up until Buck was ten and his father came online after meeting his Sentinel. After that the guide center had his father sequestered in the facility for months. And when he finally was allowed to get out six months later it was to serve his high school sweetheart and wife of eighteen years divorce papers to sign.

Doug Kendall on the hand seemed like a nice guy, at first. Doctor, rich but unassuming. Then he’ll start to open his mouth and you’d know something’s not right with the guy. Buck met Doug well Doug was already an online guide so he’s pretty much already a douchebag when he met him, and maybe that’s just Doug being Doug but Buck can’t help but think Doug is the way he is because guide instincts fucked him up.

Buck was thirteen when he started feeling emotions that he knew are not his own. He’s feeling so much anger at being betrayed, emotions that he suspected came from his mother, because that was after his dad served her the divorced papers.  Buck was afraid of being taken away from his family, from his mother and sister Maddie; like what happened to his dad. That’s why he hid. He pretended not to feel other people’s emotions even if it’s suffocating him.  

Buck decided he won’t end up like Doug or his Dad. So Buck played dumb for the sentinel and guide pair that evaluated him in senior year in high school.  It was a standard screening interview that all seniors went through to determine whether they have either a sentinel or guide traits. Fortunately, he was able to fool them. The Sentinel and Guide Center were looking for potential sentinels/guides not completely online ones. Buck had developed a fool proof idiot façade to hide the fact that he’s an online guide. Back then there’s no DNA testing for it, since scientists have yet to isolate the SgA series gene, so it’s easier to skate by.  

By the time they had a more sophisticated way of screening for sentinel and guide genes, Buck managed to escape to South America to avoid detection. There he was introduced to a more effective way of hiding his guide nature: suppressant drugs, specifically, Emphazepam, or as the locals call it “Amansalocos” literally means “to tame the craziness” because that’s what guide instincts are, a bunch of crazy fucked up compulsions.

When Buck tried amansalocos, he felt absolute relief. Like he got so used to the noise that when it suddenly stop he felt overwhelmingly light. Gone were the suffocating feelings that bombarded him constantly. So Buck chose to drug himself up. Amansalocos are highly illegal in the US but Buck managed to find a discreet supplier by the time he moved back home. With the steady supply of guide suppressants, he’s able to go undetected by even the sharpest and skilled sentinel.

The only downside (because of course there’s a downside there’s always price to pay) of the drug was it while it shut down his psi receptors so he wouldn’t feel other people’s emotions, it also affects is own psi channels enough that he could barely recognize his own emotions. But Buck didn’t care about that, doesn’t need emotions. He is not like the typical guide who chose a job that needs them to use their abilities like a teaching or nursing. He chose to be a firefighter because it's easily the most unlikely job an omega would have. No need to use guide instincts, see the fire, put out the fire the rest is blah, blah. Or so he thought.

Sometimes he could feel an itch that needs to be scratched but pretty soon he figured a cure for that too. Sex. Lots of fucking sex. Buck doesn’t even care who with, he barely feels attraction anymore, so he’d have sex with anyone willing to do it with him. Sex allows him to feel pleasure despite his dull sensibilities. When ever someone touch him, kiss him, fuck him, Buck swears he could feel someone else's emotions echo in him. It's euphoric, that kind of feeling. So it really isn't surprising that Buck got addicted to it. He craves sex so much that it almost cost him his job as a firefighter. If it wasn't for Athena, a cop he used clash with on scenes, vouching for him and his abilities as a firefighter, he would have. So he vowed to himself that he'd keep his addiction separate from his work. And he managed to trudge on long shifts despite the cravings.

Then he met Abby and for the first time he wanted to feel something more than the dull fleeting intimacy his one night stands provide. Because he can see she’s special lady and she makes him feel safe and curious about life. For the very first time in his life he felt inadequate. For the first time felt that his inability to feel emotions a burden rather than a relief.

Buck thought about going off his guide suppressants for her.  She’s not a sentinel and she won’t be able to shield him from the suffocating feeling that would descend upon him the moment the suppressants wash out of his system but Buck thinks she deserves that kind of sacrifice, she deserves Buck being truthful to her.  It’s a  big risk though and he needs to think long and hard if he’s really ready for it. He tried skipping some doses, not long enough for the drugs to wash out his system, but long enough to have some of the effects wear off. Just long enough to test the waters so to speak.

Going off suppressants felt weird at first. Then it got worse. He soon realized that while he can manage being off suppressants while at home with Abby, working without suppressants is a freaking torture. He didn’t even manage to last one call. There car accident involving multiple vehicles, no one was seriously injured but still people’s emotions during an emergency situation like that can ran high and for an untrained guide empath it can be a torture. The moment Buck step into the scene he got knocked by wave of emotions it took him a while get his bearing. Thank god he managed to bring with him an emergency dose of empazepam. He dry swallowed the pill and luckily for him it takes only a few minutes for it to take effect. So he decided to keep taking the suppressants but maybe he could skip when he’s with Abby.

His new found system worked fine. He’s having an even more meaningful relationship with Abby. Then Abby’s mom died and by god Buck could feel the grief like it was his own. He tried to comfort her even though being around her and her grief is suffocating him. Buck thinks he owes her at least that much. Slowly they both heal. Though soon enough Buck felt Abby slowly pulling away. He might have only a bit of empathy left in him but he thinks even a mundane can sense when someone is on the verge of letting go.

Buck wanted to ignore it, wanted to just cling on to Abby tight. Because she’s the one thing, the one proof he could show the world, his friends, that he is not just Buck anymore, that he has a life beyond the confines of station 118. But reality is that Abby is an independent woman who is ready and eager to go out and discover the world. She won’t let anything or anyone stop her from going after what she wants. And Buck just wants her to be happy, so he said he’ll support her in whatever she wanted to do.

So the next thing Buck knew she already has her foot out the door, she said she’s leaving to find herself. But the end result is still the same though, he’s being left behind. Intellectually he knew Abby needs this, and that’s why he put up a brave front. He escorted her to the airport himself, when even letting her out of his sight hurts him. He just hopes she finds herself soon and comes back to him. Cause she'll come back, Buck will just have to wait.

He’s doing well up until for some reason their Captain decided they need another member of the team.

It was one of those days that he's looking for the slightest positive thing in his life to keep him going cause it feels like crumbling around him but he still needs to keep his head up because the team needs him to be functional. He knows that as much as he needs the team to be okay and happy, that they need him to be okay and happy too. He can't show up to work despondent and sluggish, because while the drugs suppresses his ability to feel other people's emotion it only marginally suppress his ability to project his own unto others. He knew from experience that him showing up with less than his usual cheery self would basically trigger foul moods amongst his colleagues.

Luckily for Buck, he has one thing that is going good today that he could focus on. He finally reached his weight goal and just in time for the submissions for the Hot Days, Smoldering Nights: Men of the LAFD wall calendar. So he came in to start his shift with a grin on his face like always, and goes on to brag about his achievements to his team, which he kind of knew they would just laugh at but exactly why Buck is acting like the way he is to keep the team's spirits up. Buck is reveling at his success in spreading joy to the team when Chim started to look past him to the locker room behind him.

"Okay, That is a beautiful man."

"Where's the lie? And I like girls."

“Who the hell is that?” Buck asked frown beginning to form.

“It's Eddie Diaz. New recruit. Graduated top of his class just this week. Guys over at Station Six were dying to have him, but I convinced him to join us.”

“What do we need him for?”

“He served multiple tours in Afghanistan as an Army medic. Guy's got a Silver Star.” So the guy’s a super star then, Buck’s not liking where this is going already. “Plus he’s a latent sentinel. It's not like he's wet behind the ears.”

Fuck really a sentinel, just what Buck needs.   Not.   This is bad. Sure Diaz is latent but Buck avoids sentinels for a reason. The fact that they are all (yes even his sister Maddie) sanctimonious know-it-alls. The only sentinel Buck was able to tolerate was his sister and that’s because he loves her and she took care of him when their parents practically bailed out on them. All sentinels are pretty much smug bastards, in Buck’s opinion. They get away with pretty much everything because of their so called talents. Even as a latent they get privileges of an active Sentinel just because of a quirk in their DNA.

“Come on, I'll introduce you to him.” His captain smiled as he said, “He likes to be called Eight Pack.”

“Wow. Silver Star.” Hen whistles clearly impressed, unlike Buck who just adds to Buck's ire.

“Better drop some more body fat there, butch.” Chim teased quite rudely, which on a normal day Buck would just roll his eyes at since he kind of treats the older man like a mix of a weird uncle/annoying big brother but today it's just throwing him off for some reason and he felt hurt by Chim's harmless comments.

Buck looked towards where the rest of his team is greeting the new guy, and his frown deepened.  Something is wrong with that Diaz guy. Buck is not sure what but the moment he laid eyes on the guy, there a strange feeling blooming in his chest. It must be loathing he decided. Because anything else would mean his guide suppressants are failing and he can’t have that.

[thundersnowstorm]

Wait hold on ndkslsnwk I’ve never considered Theon/Robb/Rhaenys now I feel like I need to know so much more about that omfg like that’s so interesting??

okay aldkjksldj so the basic outline to how theon x robb x rhaenys ends up happening is still in flux for me, but i have a Lot of thoughts on the matter so here’s me processing them via word dump. maybe if i get my act together someday i’ll actually write the proper 10k fic this deserves.

as always, under the cut because i do Not know how to be concise

at some point before rhaenys ever came north, robb and theon went out drinking and got lowkey plastered. it’s a lot easier to be honest about serious stuff when you can blame it on the alcohol, y’know? and they’re just sitting outside talking and drinking, and then one of them kisses the other. later, neither will remember who initiated it. they’re both very drunk and uncoordinated and the kiss is sloppy and awkward and way more intense than either one of them will admit. 

the next day, neither of them speaks a word about it, and it’s forgotten. mostly. theon eventually convinces himself he just imagined it, because his memories of that night are very hazy and there’s just no way. robb doesn’t forget, but he doesn’t let himself think about that night. theon’s just a friend and he’s going to be married soon anyway, so what’s the point? 

intimate_rituals.jpeg

then rhaenys shows up and the events of crownless unfold as they do. fast forward through the long night (the north and humanity prevail, the others are defeated, etc etc etc). everyone’s back at winterfell now, and there’s no more looming war on the horizon. things are back to normal.

(well, as normal as normal can be when they’re all dealing with like, ptsd, and grief and anxiety and all the shit that comes with war and death. but that’s their new normal now, and they’re mostly dealing.)

it’s weird, living in winterfell without the constant threat of war. in an odd way, it reminds robb of a time long ago, before ned stark ever went south. obviously things are very different now, but it’s enough that he’s reminiscing a lot on those days. and, among other things, he remembers that kiss from so long ago. and then he tries to forget it again. it doesn’t go great.

rhaenys has always been perceptive. she watches, notices things. she watches robb and theon interact, and there’s a shift. not a shift in how they interact, but a shift in how robb looks at theon. she can’t describe it, but there’s something different about it.

oh.

here’s the thing. rhaenys went into marriage expecting very little from it. a discreet mistress at the very least, and, she hoped, a semblance of respect from her husband. even now, after years of love and marriage, there’s still part of her that’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. so she approaches this with the same ruthless practicality she uses in ruling. 

robb isn’t having an affair, she’s sure of that. but one of these days, he’s going to tire of her, and she’d rather not be blindsided by that day. with theon, there’s no risk of a bastard, and she trusts theon enough to know he wouldn’t be a risk to the starks if he became, for lack of a better term, robb’s “mistress”. 

(the effects of marriage as an institution in asoiaf on women is just. oof. but that’s a talk for another day.)

so rhaenys tells robb, plainly, that if he wants to sleep with theon, it would be fine with her.

robb, unsurprisingly, is a mixture of shocked and horrified and confused. regardless of whatever feelings he’s trying to parse through about theon, he loves rhaenys dearly and here she is, giving him a permission to have an affair. 

“do you want me to have an affair???”

what follows is the weirdest argument ever, in which they each say i love you approximately twenty times apiece, robb tells her she’s pushing him away, rhaenys tells him he’s pushing her away, robb denies and then promptly admits his feelings for theon, rhaenys denies and then inadverdently alludes to her insecurities about marriage, robb possibly gives her permission to have an affair, rhaenys lets slip she knows theon’s got feelings for robb, and it’s just a bizzarre mess.

this goes on for several days. all of winterfell is very confused, because it seems like the king and queen are fighting but they also keep very pointedly telling each other how much they care. it’s just. weird.

onion headline: town watches local couple fumble their way through polyamory negotiations. third person has yet to be informed.

eventually they manage to get beyond their defensive reactions and have an honest, unfiltered conversation. yes, robb has feelings for theon that are probably not going away anytime soon, but his feelings for rhaenys have not changed. yes, rhaenys has a lot of insecurities and she’s dealing with them the best she can. that being said, if robb wants something to happen between him and theon, she genuinely wouldn’t mind. she knows he loves her, this doesn’t have to change anything.

blah blah blah makeup sex

nothing happens for a while. robb’s still not entirely convinced that rhaenys is truly okay with the idea, and anyway, he’s not entirely come to terms with it either. but they’re talking, about theon, about Feelings and Whatnot, and things are better.

theon, poor guy, has no idea what is going on with the two of them. the two of them had some sort of fight that robb never explained, and now things are back to normal but they keep looking at him? but maybe he’s just imagining things. married couples can be weird sometimes.

anyway, there’s a hunting expedition one day and what seems like all of winterfell goes. at one point, grey wind smells something and leads robb and theon off on a separate path. it’s a buck, and before robb can grab his crossbow, there’s an arrow in the creature’s neck.

“stop showing off, theon”

so they dismount to strap the carcass to one of their mounts to take back. and they’re teasing each other, saying a lot of stupid nonsense, and the mood is high. anyway, somehow robb ends up kissing theon.

“what the fuck stark.”

theon’s mostly in shock. a little confused. a little indignant on rhaenys’s behalf, which he didn’t really expect but she has a way of creeping up on people and besides robb, ur a married man!

robb tries to explain everything. mostly it comes out as word salad. theon is just further confused.

the rest of the hunting party shows back up, rhaenys included, and they head back to winterfell. 

"i kissed him," robb says, once they're away from anyone who might be listening in. "yeah?" says rhaenys, arching an eyebrow. "how was it?"

okay confession time. a good amount of the reasoning behind this ship is that i just think the three of them would be hot together. so just. keep that in mind.

anyway, they manage to find theon after dinner and robb explains it all, properly. theon uh. doesn't quite know how to take it. bc he and rhaenys had talked about his feelings for robb, and he had always assumed nothing was going to come of it all. and he’s lowkey pissed at rhaenys and just very confused at robb and just. it’s a lot. he needs some time to process everything. 

but yeah, eventually the three of them end up in a sort of poly/ open relationship sort of thing

actually I think ms april ludgate described it best:

except rhaenys and theon are closer to "friends who will never admit that they're friends except they talk about emotions sometimes and maybe have sex but not like in a romantic way" but yeah

anyway. the three of them have enough issues to be a magazine and it's hardly smooth sailing but they make it work? also the sex is pretty great

thank u for coming to my ted talk.

[myhahnestopinion]

THE AARONS 2019 - Worst Film

The idea of a Worst Films list has been getting a lot of pushback recently, with the argument being it is hard work to make any movie and unproductive to take cheap shots at unsuccessful ones. I’d like to counter that films like The Rise of Skywalker are soulless and cowardly, and so Hahn’s shooting first this time, baby! That film actually just barely missed the cut for this list, begging the question of what exactly could be worse. Here are the Aarons for Worst Film: 

#10. Ma

There’s something very wrong with Ma and it’s not hard to determine what. Ma isn’t nurturing: its clumsy pacing forgets to ratchet up any tension, revealing her motivations far too early while waiting far too long for her to act on them. Ma isn’t wise: its numerous references to vaping are an unsuccessful smoke and mirrors act to hide how little it comprehends the teenage mindset. Ma isn’t understanding: it makes victim into villain with reckless abandon. Ma isn’t worth a visit; despite her protestations, Ma will undoubtedly make you want to drink alone.

#9. The Curse of La Llorona

La Llorona has nothing but crocodile tears. There’s no sincerity to director Michael Chavez’s interpretation of the pervasive Mexican folklore; the legend just checks off enough of the right boxes to easily fill in a mad-libs supernatural horror screenplay. Each shot is mechanically chosen, displaying plenty of competence of how horror filmmaking functions, but lacking any personality of their own. The Curse of La Llorona is just a wide release audition tape of perplexing fortune, worming its way into the Conjuring Universe like a wolf in sheep’s clothing and drowning in clichés.

#8. The Curse of Buckout Road

This year’s list, much more than previous years, has been cursed by many late-night viewings with a friend, driving down the quality of films featured here with drivel like The Curse of Buckout Road. The movie follows a group of friends making a student-film on the supposedly haunted titular location; the amateur filmmaking on display suggest this student-film conceit is metatextual. Danny Glover briefly passes by in pursuit of a paycheck; he’s wise enough to buck out before the plot barrels towards a dead end.

#7. Can You Keep A Secret?

Can You Keep A Secret? has very little to hide but a lot to be ashamed of. The quirky indie rom-com wears its influences on its sleeve but can’t crack the code as to what makes them work. As soon as the film establishes its premise, it quickly buttons up; the humor oddly gets progressively less outlandish as the plot drags on. Co-stars Alexandra Daddario and Tyler Hoechlin are not without their charms, but even with all their secrets laid bare, consistent character motivations remain elusive for the two. Can You Keep a Secret? has nothing worth hearing; you can keep it.

#6. Godzilla: The Planet Eater

Not to be confused with the live-action monster disaster movie released this summer, Godzilla: The Planet Eater is simply a monstrous disaster. Capping off a trilogy of anime installments for Netflix, the action in the film is stiffer than rubber suits ever were, which is to say nothing of the repetitive exposition. The film’s treatment of its characters is even worse: of the three women present in the entire trilogy, one is murdered, one becomes braindead and later involuntarily taken on a suicide run, and the third speaks only enough English to state her only purpose in life is to have sex. It’s enough to make viewers leave The Planet Eater sick to their stomach.

#5. Serenity

Serenity is surreal; the movie ends with a plot twist so baffling it really must be seen to be believed, making it the rare recommended film from this category. Even before that development, something smells fishy about the film’s overcooked noir stylings. Matthew McConaughey flounders as a troubled fishing boat captain desperate to catch a tuna unsubtly called Justice; Anne Hathaway uncomfortably flops around with him for a while. The dialogue is laughable enough, but the aforementioned twist is a different kettle of fish altogether.

#4. After

The first film from Wattpad Studios takes after the likes of Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey, but the toxicity of its central romance makes even those ones sparkle in comparison. Based on former One Direction fan fiction, After takes every wrong turn it can. Lead character Tessa Young ignores numerous showing of physical and emotional abuse and destroys all her personal relationships in pursuit of Harry-Styles-stand-in Hardin Scott. The film targeted at teenagers might have had some merit as a twisted warning… had there been any regard for After’s aftermath. The film abruptly ends with no resolution; you’re better off walking away before it even starts.

#3. Jacob’s Ladder

Even among soulless remakes, the 2019 version of Jacob’s Ladder is several steps down. Lacking both the immediacy and surreality of the original movie, the titular character’s descent into hell is more of a passive perusal of unenthused low-budget scares. Perhaps the uncanny events that veteran Jacob Singer experiences are all a dream; that would explain why Michael Ealy is sleepwalking through the role. Devils, angels, or one and the same, viewers won’t end up caring as long as something frees them from this unimaginative agony. 

#2. Replicas

Replicas rip-offs decades of sci-fi movies about scientists playing god, but what it couldn’t copy was the soul… or any narrative cohesiveness, convincing performances, watchable cinematography, professional visual effects, or general purpose. The most confusing element it chooses to not replicate though is the moral that typically accompanies such tales. Replicas sees Keanu Reeves messing with natural laws of life and death, circumventing grief, manipulating his loved ones’ memories, selling-out to greedy business interests, and drawing a name from a mixing-bowl to decide which of his children stays dead… and then gives him a consequence-free happy ending. It’s an ineptitude impossible to ever fully duplicate.

AND THE WORST FILM OF 2019 IS...

#1. The Gallows Act II

Judging by the lazy prop design, the haunted stage-play The Gallows is only one act long; the film would have been wise to remain the same. Four years after their low-budget film was picked up by a major studio and grossed $40 million, directors Travis Cluff and Chris Lofing make a play at turning it into another horror franchise. Yet despite that success story, The Gallows Act II would be amateurish even for a high-school production. Ditching the original’s found-footage conceit for footage that looks even more lost, the sequel follows young Ana Rue acting out of fear that she will never achieve her showbiz dreams; the film doesn’t seem to see the irony. The inexcusably lazy film adds nothing interesting to the series’ mythology; ideas of a franchise are unlikely to hang around for long.

NEXT UP: THE 2019 AARON FOR BEST DIRECTOR!

[douxreviews]

The OA - Season 1 Review

By Billie Doux

(The first part of this review is spoiler-free. I'll discuss the ending underneath the adorable spoiler kitten.)

The OA is an eight-episode series currently available on Netflix that was created by Brit Marling, who plays the lead, and Zal Batmanglij. It tells the story of a young blind woman named Prairie Johnson, missing for seven years, who returns home unexpectedly.

Prairie, no longer blind and inexplicably referring to herself as "The OA," won't tell the FBI or her parents (the wonderful former Borg queen Alice Krige and equally wonderful Walking Dead alum Scott Wilson) what happened to her during the seven years she was missing, although there are physical indications that she was imprisoned and abused. Instead, she begins telling her story to five random people in an abandoned house at midnight. The story, and it's a wild one, is told in chapters on successive nights throughout the succeeding episodes, and it has a dramatic effect on the lives of the five listeners, all of whom are from the local high school.

The ending of this series, or possibly first season since there are rumors that there may be a second, is controversial and is generating a lot of discussion. For me, The OA isn't so much about the ending, although I'm one of the viewers who found it quite powerful. It's my opinion that The OA is about the strength and transformative power of storytelling. We've all read books that have changed our lives and made us see the world in a new way. That's what this story did for the OA's five acolytes, four of whom are high school students: Steve, a violent outcast who deals drugs; druggie Jesse; brilliant and disadvantaged Alfonso; Buck the youngest who is trans and struggling to make his parents understand him; and Betty Broderick-Allen, a teacher.

I'm not sure if I can wholeheartedly recommend The OA. Some are finding it utterly fascinating and well worth watching (like me. I thought it was), while others are pissed about the ending and think it was a huge waste of their time. Caveat emptor?

And now, some spoilers. If you're planning to watch The OA, go no further until after you do!

What was real?

It appears that Prairie Johnson was kidnapped and imprisoned for seven years. She was blind when she was kidnapped, and regained her sight before she returned. Her five acolytes indeed used "the movements" she taught them to distract the school shooter long enough to keep him from killing the children in the cafeteria. Were the five actually sending the OA through an interdimensional portal so that she could rescue Homer and the others, or was that all in her head?

Honestly, I was about to give up on this series while watching the first episode, until I got to the end when the "I was born in Russia in 1987" thing started, oddly coinciding with the title sequence. Who puts the title sequence at the end? It was like saying, the story actually begins here. Of course, her childhood in Russia and the way she came back from the dead was very secret princess. It was so unbelievable that this was the point where I started wondering if OA was making the whole thing up. Or if maybe she believed it, but was stark raving mad.

There are so many hints and parallels throughout that make it seem possible that OA is either lying about her past and her seven years of imprisonment, or that she is mentally ill and honestly believes things that are not true. Her parents kept her medicated for nearly her entire childhood because of her unbelievable stories. There were multiple references to her head injuries. After her return home, the doctors in St. Louis said she should be committed. In the final episode, she is again being medicated and has an ankle monitor. There are also many indications that OA is psychic, which could be true even if she fabricated the whole thing.

After I finished the series, I rewatched the pilot, searching for clues. The first thing she asked when she woke after jumping off the bridge was, "Did I flatline?" She said that she was trying to get back to where she'd been held captive, even though she knew that they were gone. She also said, "We all died more times than I can count." The first thing she did when she arrived in her childhood home was attempt to find Homer Roberts on her computer, and later, she did. Although why couldn't Steve and Alfonso find evidence of her story online, too?

Did Hap exist, or was his search for proof of life after death a way that the OA used to humanize her captor? During the series, we often see things from Hap's viewpoint, even to his trips to find other NDE survivors and that strange murder of his friend at a morgue. (What the hell really happened in that morgue? What was that other guy doing?) The OA told her five acolytes that her father was a miner, and Hap's house was situated at an abandoned mine. When the OA was little and her name was Nina Azarova, her father forced her into freezing water in order to cure her fear of her nightmares of drowning in an aquarium, and note the similarity to Hap repeatedly drowning his captive subjects. Plus, the series began when the OA jumped off a bridge, and the kids on the school bus in Russia went over a bridge. Note also the use of glass or plastic during the OA's seven years of imprisonment and in the final shooting scene.

The neighborhood that the OA and her acolytes lived in was outright creepy. It looked like a typical suburb on the surface, but it consisted of jarring and oddly naked tract houses and there were often strange objects in the street. And I dare say most suburban neighborhoods don't have a half-built abandoned house sitting in the middle of an empty street? There was also the weirdness of the OA's instructions to her acolytes to leave their doors open while they were at her storytelling seances, something I found uncomfortable in present-day America; was that because the FBI instructed the Johnsons that "doors should remain open at all times"?

Steve, the OA's first follower and the character who changed the most, was introduced with a jarring, explicit sex scene right in front of a picture window showing that strange neighborhood. A drug-dealing bully with rage issues, Steve was the one who chose the other acolytes — except for teacher Betty Broderick-Allen, who basically chose herself. Grief-stricken by the recent death of her twin brother, Betty at first appeared to be a closed-minded teacher parroting the views of a rigid educational system uninterested in connecting with children who are different. Phyllis Smith is wonderful as Betty, and I thought her developing relationship with Steve, and in particular, the night she gave away her inheritance to save him from the goons from Asheville, was one of the high points of the series. I also really loved the scene where the OA impersonated Steve's stepmother and talked Betty out of expelling Steve, especially the bizarre little detail of one of the OA's fake press-on nails popping off while they were talking. Note that the OA guessed correctly that Betty had just lost a sibling, another bit that made me think she was psychic.

So let's talk about the ending.

The scene where Alfonso found the books under the OA's bed was very Usual Suspects, but it was also ambiguous. Yes, the OA could have used those books to create the details in her story, but she also could have been reading about subjects that had a relationship to her life, couldn't she? Why did Alfonso look in the mirror and see himself as Homer? And here's the big one for me. What was FBI agent Elias doing in the Johnson home alone at night, and why was he so weird and unconventional in the first place?

After I finished all eight episodes, I checked out a lot of articles and reviews on the internet. What seems to upset critics the most is the insertion of a school shooting into the narrative, supposedly out of nowhere. (That, and the admittedly silly interpretive dance "movements" that were intended to open the interdimensional portal.)

Honestly, I don't think the school shooting came out of nowhere. The focus of the entire series was saving the lives of children, and the five acolytes were all from the high school. The OA's story began with the Russian children dying on the bus, and then focused on five youths trapped under glass and killed and revived repeatedly in Hap's basement. Plus, it seemed to me that Steve fit the profile of a possible school shooter, and even though he momentarily reacted to the OA with anger in the pencil-stabbing scene, he was the one who changed the most, and for the better, over the course of the story.

We're now hearing that there may be a second season in the works. I cannot imagine what a second season could be about. Almost anything they do to answer questions about what happened in the first season might ruin the whole thing. Then again, what if the OA really did go through a portal in the end? What if Homer, Rachel, Scott and Renata do exist and are still imprisoned, waiting for her to rescue them?

A few bits:

-- OA may have meant "original angel." I thought that it could have been an interpretation of the word "away."

-- I didn't notice it the first time through, but there is a lot of purple, the color of royalty (secret princess), magic and spirituality.

-- There's Braille, too. There are actually strips on Braille on Khatun's face during the afterlife scenes. Also, the OA kept touching her white bedspread that had knobby protrusions like Braille.

-- How on earth did the OA and Homer write the symbols representing the movements on their skin? They couldn't touch each other; could anyone physically do that? Was that the reason the OA was told to make her arms longer during that scene with the bill and the trench?

-- Why were there potted plants in Hap's underground prison?

-- Why did the OA's mother Nancy freak out in the restaurant?

-- Loved the tiny blue quail eggs in milk for breakfast, and the bit in the afterlife about swallowing a bird.

So what is this show? Is it pretentious arty crap, or is it a powerful story about storytelling, mysticism and life after death? Lines are open. What did you guys think?

Billie Doux loves good television and spends way too much time writing about it.