#and isn't that just`?? the same thing??? to go to a place not in need of workers and bel like hey choose me??? It feels so awful?? also i'm

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

So this is 5k words. Didn't mean for that to happen. This is for BuckTommy Fluffebruary Day Sixteen: Didn't Know They Were Dating AU. This is the one fill that doesn't take place in the same timeline as my other fills and is set in some nebulous period between 405 and 409. So Buck knows about Daniel. Jes-Yun isn't born yet. You can also read this on AO3 here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

They meet one night when Maddie is asked to cover a shift at the last minute and Chimney begs Buck to step in for a karaoke trivia thing he'd been invited to. When he arrives at the bar, Chimney is sitting with two big guys at a table. One of the guys introduces himself as Sal, and he seems cool enough. The other guy is Tommy, and he's definitely really cool.

“My girlfriend's brother is stepping in for her,” Chimney explains.

“H-hey,” Buck says, waving awkwardly. “I'm Evan. Buck. Evan Buckley.”

It's the least smooth way he's ever introduced himself in his adult life, but he keeps wondering what the hell Tommy's diet and exercise routine is. The guy is massive. He's so warm, though, when he shakes Buck's hand. Literally, because his hands are radiating heat, but he also smiles with his whole face instead of just a polite tilt of his mouth. Buck finds himself smiling back and ducking his head when Tommy lets his hand go.

“Wasn't your girlfriend the secret karaoke weapon?” Sal asks.

“Yeah, but this guy's the secret trivia weapon,” Chimney says, clapping Buck on the shoulder. “You said science and history always gets you, right? Here's your solution.”

Buck flushes and shrugs when Tommy's eyes sweep over him. “I hope I can help.”

He settles in for a night of karaoke trivia, and he's not much help on the pop culture stuff. But there's an entire series of questions themed around popular animals at the LA Zoo, and Buck gets all of them. As he answers, Tommy's blue eyes stay on him, and Buck finds himself answering with more and more confidence. When Celestial Bodies turns out to be the next category, he's quick to answer everything he knows instead of waiting politely for everyone else in the group.

By the end, the Worst Responders (Sal’s idea) win the night, and they sit with a pitcher of beer, their pride, and a Visa gift card each. When Chimney goes to take a call from Maddie and Sal gets up to use the bathroom, Buck suddenly doesn't know what to say to Tommy.

“That was pretty amazing, Evan,” Timmy says, raising his glass.

Buck opens his mouth to correct him, but instead he clinks their glasses and says, “Not so bad yourself, Tommy.”

Tommy's eyes dip as they both take long drinks of their beer, and Buck hopes he doesn't have something on his chin. He wipes it with the back of his hand just to be on the safe side.

“Man, I can't believe you can fly,” Buck says, settling back into his chair. “That's so cool.”

“Well,” Tommy says, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile, “I need the aircraft to fly.”

Buck makes a face at him. “Yeah, I know, but it's amazing. I always wanted to learn. When I was traveling, I'd end up on these tiny planes sometimes and always thought it would be fun.”

“I could maybe show you a few things,” Tommy says, resting his elbows on the table. “My rates are pretty competitive.”

Buck’s reply is cut off by Chimney plopping down next to him.

“Heard a girl talking about you,” Chimney says, nudging Buck and nodding back toward the bar.

He glances but doesn’t really see anyone specifically looking at him. He figures she’ll find him if she’s really interested. His focus goes back to Tommy, who is sliding a coaster around under his finger and smiling to himself a bit, but he doesn’t look all that happy. Instead, he’s just sort of…resigned.

“How competitive?” Buck asks, and Tommy blinks at him.

Tommy looks between Chimney, Buck, and something behind Buck before his eyes settle back on him. “We can figure something out. Honestly, I don’t usually charge friends. Except Sal.”

“For what?” Chimney asks, frowning at his phone screen.

“Thought I might take up flying,” Buck says, shrugging.

Chimney snorts. “Yeah. That’ll last. This kid’s got more hobbies than anyone I’ve ever met. Dude, I think someone stole my credit card number again. Hold up, I gotta call my bank.”

He disappears again, and Buck looks over his shoulder to see Sal is talking to a pretty girl at the bar, and she glances at Buck. When she sees him looking, she smiles shyly before looking back at Sal. If she’s the girl Chimney was talking about, she is pretty cute.

“I don’t have a lot of hobbies,” Buck says, turning his attention back to Tommy. “Well, kind of. I have a lot of interests, I guess. Which, yeah, is kinda weird, but I like the idea of flying. So I would absolutely be down to learn, and I’d be happy to pay for the fuel or your time or whatever. It’s like learning a superpower.”

Tommy smiles and slides his phone over. “Go ahead and put your number in.”

Buck does, noticing that the contact name is already filled in as ‘Evan,’ and he doesn’t bother correcting that either.

By the time they all leave, Buck has Tommy’s number in his own phone and realizes he forgot to get the girl’s number.

–

Flying is so cool, but Buck thinks Tommy might be a maniac. He’ll do maneuvers that don’t feel like they should be physically possible, and then he laughs over the headset. It’s terrifying and amazing, and Buck is flushed and breathless by the time they land on the tarmac at Harbor Station.

“That was awesome!” he says. “Okay, yeah, I owe you a beer. A dozen beers.”

Tommy takes off the headset and smiles. “How about dinner?”

Buck smiles back, though he feels like he’s still trying to catch his breath. “Yeah, okay. I could do dinner.”

–

Micelli’s is nice, and they’ve apparently got good beer and good food. Buck finds out that Tommy’s half Italian on his mom’s side, which explains a lot about his looks. His nose is so regal from the side, and Buck’s found his eyes tracing its shape more than once. His mom was first generation, so Tommy was practically raised by a bunch of older Italian women and his grandfather until he was in high school.

“So when you say the food here is good, you know what you’re talking about,” Buck concludes, and Tommy nods. “Alright, I believe you.”

“What about your family?” Tommy asks, and Buck shrugs. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“No, they’re…fine,” Buck says, shrugging again. He still feels raw when he thinks about his parents. “They’re, uh, back in Pennsylvania. Except Maddie. I think we’re British? Just sort of, uh, WASP-y? But I don’t really know a lot about my family.”

Hell, he knew even less than he ever realized.

“I don’t know a lot about my dad’s family,” Tommy says, and it feels like he understands based on the way he says it. It loosens some of the anxiety that had been building in Buck’s chest. “Scottish, Irish? Something like that. But I never looked too hard. Italians, though, you’d be hard-pressed to find a family that doesn’t want every generation to know every story and legend and the name of every town everyone was ever born in.”

“Family recipes?”

Tommy snorts. “I have a box of them. I’ve been trying to transcribe them just in case something ever happens to them, but there’s so many.”

Buck shrugs. “I could help.”

“Yeah?” Tommy looks surprised at his offer.

“Yeah, I’m kinda good at that kind of stuff,” he admits. “Plus, hey, I wouldn’t say no to learning some new recipes. I feel like I’m finally really getting the hang of cooking. Maybe I can even teach Bobby a thing or two.”

They start talking about the 118, and Buck is surprised at just how different it used to be. From the sound of it, Tommy was really different. Sal, too. And then Tommy felt like he was able to get a new start at Harbor.

“I just didn’t want to die in a closet, you know?” he says, and Buck tries to parse what that could mean. “I wasn’t out at the 118. Everyone thought I was straight until, I don’t know, my last month there? I finally told them right after my transfer went through.”

Buck blinks, realizing he’d somehow totally missed that Tommy’s gay. He realizes his silence could be taken for discomfort and panics. “Th-that’s great! I’m glad you were able to do that. It’s hard. It’s a hard thing to go through.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees, smiling softly. “Well, it’s actually just…freeing. Once you get past actually saying the words.”

“That sounds amazing,” Buck says, sighing. It does. The idea of feeling free has always felt like something he’s been looking for. Being at the 118 is the closest thing he’s ever found to that, but he wonders if it feels the same.

Tommy hesitates and starts to say something, but then their server arrives to take their food orders. Buck forgets to ask him what he was going to say, because he starts second-guessing what he was going to order and leans across to ask Tommy about one of the dishes. When Tommy leans in to look at where Buck’s pointing on the menu, his forearm presses against Buck’s and radiates heat the same way his hand did when they met, the same way his whole body did when he'd hugged Buck after their flight and when they met outside the restaurant. He wonders if it's a natural thing for him or if it's his muscle mass that does it.

“So you do like mushrooms?” Tommy asks, and Buck nods. “Yeah, you'll love that, then. But save room for dessert.”

“Okay,” Buck says, unable to keep himself from ducking his head and smiling as Tommy confirms with the server that Buck is getting whatever the hell it was Tommy had pointed to. He hadn't been paying attention.

–

He loves Tommy’s house. It’s got books and movies and records crammed into every available shelf in the living room, and there are cool old tiles in the kitchen and bathrooms that Tommy’s never going to touch even when he updates the rooms.

“Kitchen’s next, but I did a lot of the hard work with the electrical and plumbing already,” Tommy explains. He goes to a cabinet above his fridge and reaches in for an old cigar box. When he stretches for it, his shirt rides up and Buck blinks at the strip of skin that’s exposed. He suddenly feels guilty for staring and forces himself to look at the view of Tommy’s backyard from the window above the sink. “Here they are.”

Tommy sets the box on the counter and flips it open. Inside are old recipe cards, torn out recipes from magazines and ads, swooping writing on yellowed paper, and what looks to be more than one recipe torn out of cookbooks.

They’re killing time before a movie that’s playing at the theater by Tommy’s place, but Buck wants to dive into the recipes and figure out what it was that his family liked or what was important to them, what they held onto across generations, and which ones made little Tommy love desserts so much.

“Can you tell who wrote them?” he asks, carefully turning over a recipe card for some kind of soup made with lentils and sausage.

“Some of them,” Tommy says, leaning over and looking at the card he’s holding. “That was Prozia Camilla, I think. She always wrote her Bs really weird.”

“What’s that?” Buck asks, looking over at Tommy. He realizes he’s close, but it’s not making him uncomfortable. He feels a little warm, but it’s not from discomfort or embarrassment. The heat might be on in the house, or it's just Tommy being a human space heater. “Aunt?”

“Great-aunt,” Tommy clarifies. “Aunt is zia, uncle is zio—pretty easy. Nonna, Nonno–grandma, grandpa. Cugina, cugino–cousin, female or male. You add pro for great-aunts and -uncles, bis for great-grandparents. There’s one that’s in a baggy from Bisnonna Valia, I think she wrote it down when Mussolini was in power.”

Buck carefully picks through the box until he finds it, and he doesn’t take it out. He does inspect it, though. The paper is translucent and faded, the ink a brown-ish color. “What’s it for?”

“Canestrelli. It’s kind of like a shortbread cookie.”

He likes how Tommy says the words in Italian, the way his mouth shapes the vowels and kind of rolls the Rs but not really, the syllables he emphasizes a little differently than the way Buck probably would if he read the word from a page. He’d asked Tommy if he spoke Italian, and he sort of did. He mostly just understood it, but he sounded like he knew it whenever he said any of the words.

“These are amazing,” Buck says softly, rubbing his thumb along the edge of the paper inside its protective plastic. “Is it weird that I wish I knew them? All the people who wrote these down.”

When he glances at Tommy, Tommy’s looking at him and not at the recipe anymore. “No,” Tommy replies softly. “I don’t think that’s weird at all. They would’ve loved you.”

Buck grins. “Really?”

“Definitely.”

He flushes happily at the thought, even if Tommy’s just being nice. When he sets the recipe back in the box, the alarm on Tommy’s phone goes off.

“I kind of want to just look at these,” Buck admits. “But you said the movie’s really good.”

“Evan, it’s Casablanca,” Tommy says dryly. “It’s literally one of the greatest movies ever made.”

“Well, then I guess we have to go,” Buck teases, closing the box and handing it over to him.

When Tommy puts the box back, Buck’s eyes dip to his ass this time. It’s really a work of art. He wonders what kind of squats he does.

–

Buck’s a mess.

“You didn’t tell me it would be sad,” he moans as he snacks on the last of his popcorn on the way to Tommy’s truck. He’d driven, because it was easier than trying to find parking for two cars near the theater.

“A lot of the best romance movies are,” Tommy says. “But I don’t think it’s that sad. He loves her, and he knows she’s going to be happy. It’s not like Ghost or Moulin Rouge or Brokeback Mountain or anything.”

“I’ve never seen those,” Buck admits. “How can it get any sadder?”

“I mean, one of them could’ve died.”

Buck sighs. “Yeah, I guess. But—can you imagine finding the person who makes you feel like that and having to watch them walk away with someone else? People don’t realize how awful it feels to just be left behind.”

He realizes he’s projecting a lot onto a movie that’s eighty years old, but it does suck. Buck would know.

“Sometimes you just want to be the one people will stick around for,” he mumbles.

Tommy bumps their shoulders together gently as they walk. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Buck smiles and bumps his shoulder back. “You say that now.”

“I can’t imagine wanting to leave you behind if I could help it, Evan.”

The way he says it makes Buck’s heart thud in his chest, and for a moment he’s worried about another blood clot. He looks over at Tommy, who’s looking at him, and he smiles.

“Thanks,” he says softly.

Tommy puts an arm around his shoulder and squeezes him close for a moment before they get to the truck. Buck gets into the passenger seat and considers the few kernels of popcorn left. He wonders what Tommy’s favorite happy romance movie is and what it’s like, what he likes about it and the characters, if he identifies more with one than the other.

“So that’s the best romance movie?” he asks instead.

“I mean, that’s subjective, right?” Tommy says, turning on the truck and pulling away from the curb. “I think it’s pretty close to being the most objectively perfect one, yeah.”

“Is it your favorite?”

Tommy considers the question for a moment. “It's up there. It changes, honestly. I really like Love, Actually, but Princess Bride and Moonstruck are amazing, too. Casablanca is pretty perfect, though.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Buck says, smiling. “I did like it. It just, y’know, made me a little sad. Also, I didn’t realize that whole ‘Here’s looking at you, kid’ thing was a reference. I’ve heard so many people say that and thought it was some idiom I never learned.”

Tommy snorts and shakes his head. “I swear, I will expand your knowledge of movies.”

Buck normally doesn’t really care. He doesn’t have the same attachment to movies that a lot of his friends have, but he likes Tommy showing him things. The flying, the restaurant, the recipe box, the movie—maybe Muay Thai? He knows Eddie does it. Buck’s never really had an interest in it, but Tommy had offered to teach him and Buck had twirled his pasta around his fork and said he’d be interested because nothing sounded cooler. Now that he’s seen the set-up in Tommy’s garage, it would be kind of awesome to have one-on-one lessons and then go inside to make old family recipes.

He looks over at Tommy as he drives, and he notes that Tommy seems as at ease behind a wheel as he is doing anything else. He had also seen the car lift in Tommy’s garage, currently empty but awaiting a Chevelle he’d had his eye on that needed work, and he wonders if he’s always liked cars.

As he watches, he also realizes that Tommy’s side profile is pretty perfect. It’s not just the nose, it’s his entire face. Tommy’s a really handsome guy.

“Evan?” Tommy asks, sounding amused.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Buck slides down in his seat a little, feeling caught out for some reason. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Tommy slows to a stop at the light and looks over at Buck. He smiles and squeezes Buck’s wrist briefly, his huge hand almost engulfing it. He doesn’t understand how someone his height can be so big. With his free hand, he reaches over and picks up Tommy’s hand, manipulating the digits until they’re flat, and he presses their hands together to compare the size. Buck’s never met someone with bigger hands than his who wasn’t at least six and a half feet tall, but Tommy’s fingers stretch a little further, his palm is a little broader.

Then Tommy turns his palm just a little and curls his fingers until they’re between Buck’s, and Buck curls his fingers, too. He smiles and looks up at Tommy, who’s looking at him intently. It makes Buck’s heart pound again.

A car honks, and Tommy startles a little. He laughs to himself as he continues driving toward his house, both hands back on the wheel, and Buck feels his hand close around nothing, feeling empty.

–

Tommy is walking him to his car, even though it’s parked right in front of his house. They’re talking about the next series of movies the theater is showing—old noir stuff, some of which Tommy’s never even seen.

“That could be cool,” Buck says, putting his hands in his jacket pocket so he won’t reach for Tommy’s hand again. It would be weird. “We can see when our shifts line up.”

“They do them all in two month blocks,” Tommy explains wryly. “So that’s going to be a lot of calendar checking.”

“We can always share them to each other,” Buck points out. “Figure out other days we can do stuff.”

Tommy’s eyes look between Buck’s, down to his chin, and back at his eyes again. “Like what?”

Buck smiles and shrugs. “Anything. I mean, we’re kind of the perfect bar trivia partners. We can go around town and hustle all of them out of their gift cards and small cash prizes. But I really do want to help you with the recipe thing. You really think your family would’ve liked me?”

“Evan, do you have any idea how likeable you are?” Tommy asks, leaning his shoulder against Buck’s door.

“Hey, you’re pretty likeable yourself,” Buck says shyly. “You’re kind of the coolest person I’ve ever—”

He doesn’t get to finish, because there are two fingers under his chin and a pair of lips on his. For a moment, he freezes, because Tommy is kissing him. That should be weird. He’s never had a male friend kiss him on the lips unless it was during Spin the Bottle or under mistletoe, and those were always pecks or done with some reluctance on their part. But he can feel Tommy start to pull away and wants anything but that, so he brings his hand up to Tommy’s shoulder and keeps him there while Buck kisses back.

Tommy’s lips are soft, though his stubble is a little scratchy, but Buck doesn’t mind it. He really doesn’t mind it.

“Was that okay?” Tommy whispers when he does finally pull back.

Buck nods and his eyes drop to Tommy’s lips, which don’t look any different than they did a minute ago, but now he knows how they feel against his. He still has a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and brings his other one up to cup his jaw to keep him still when Buck goes in for another kiss.

It feels better than okay. It feels like a real first—well, second now—kiss. He feels like an alarm bell should be going off somewhere in his head, but all he’s getting is a need to feel more of him, to taste more of him.

They’re kind of making out against Buck’s Jeep, and Buck is definitely going to need to talk to Hen about this. If he likes kissing a guy just as much as he’s liked kissing a girl—hell, more than he’s liked kissing some girls—what does that mean?

Tommy pulls away again and presses their foreheads together. They’re both breathing hard, and Buck wonders if Tommy will ask him to come inside.

“I meant to take this a lot slower,” Tommy says. “You seemed…new. I know Howie doesn’t know, but does anyone?”

Buck wonders if he’d missed something in their conversation. “Know what?”

“That you’re—” he gestures between them. Then he pulls back more and searches Buck’s face. “You are, aren’t you?”

“What?” he asks again, feeling very slow. He doesn’t love the feeling, but he's also still really stuck on the feeling of Tommy's lips.

“Wait, are you?”

“Oh, my god, Tommy, am I what?” he asks, laughing.

“Into guys?”

Buck blinks. “I don’t—I’ve never really thought about it?”

Except for that one time in Texas, but he knew that he came off as flirty sometimes when he didn’t mean to. That hadn’t been TK’s fault. Hell, TK was gorgeous and a really good firefighter, and—oh.

“Oh,” Buck says, raising his eyebrows. “Huh.”

“Are you okay?” Tommy asks, searching Buck’s face for something. He’s not touching Buck anymore, which kind of sucks.

“Yeah.” He looks at Tommy and smiles. “Yeah, I’m great.”

He is. He really is. It’s a little bit of a shock, but he’s pretty sure he’ll be fine. Well, he might need to talk to Hen and Maddie and Bobby.

Then it hits him—Tommy walked him to his car. While the sun was up. In a good neighborhood. After the movies. He’d done the same thing after Micelli’s, after they’d flown, and he’d hugged Buck every time. It had felt good and warm and safe. But Tommy always walked him to his car.

“We were just on a date, weren’t we?” Buck says slowly, then counts. “Like, our third one. Wait, did you take me flying for our first date?”

“I thought I did,” Tommy says, his brows raised. “Did you really have no idea that I was asking you out?”

Okay, yeah, Tommy had said they should go out sometime before they’d left the bar the night they’d met, and Buck had agreed and Tommy had grinned. It had been really distracting.

“Huh,” he says again. “Wait, you waited until our third date to kiss me?”

“I thought you needed me to take it slow,” Tommy says, leaning his elbows on the hood and burying his face in his hands. “I thought you were new to this.”

“I mean, I am,” Buck points out. The way Tommy’s leaning makes his ass pop out a little, and his jeans are tight enough that they definitely qualify as date jeans. “Maybe not that new, actually. It’s normal to check out a hot guy’s ass, right?”

Tommy looks at him incredulously. “Evan, how would I know what straight guys do? I’m a Kinsey six.”

“Right,” Buck realizes, though he’s still not clear on the second part. “What’s a Kinsey six?”

“It’s a scale for sexuality. I’ve never actually been attracted to any women.”

Buck frowns. “Really?”

He’s found a lot of guys attractive, because that was just a thing Buck could see as a person with eyes. Hell, one of the first things he thought about Connor was that he had a killer smile. Then he had followed him to Los Angeles. From Peru.

“Oh,” he realizes, pulling out his phone and looking up ‘Kinsey.’ “Two? I don’t know, actually. I’ll have to think about it.”

Tommy huffs out a laugh. “You’re not, I don’t know, mad?”

Buck frowns and puts his phone back in his pocket. “Why would I be mad?”

“A lot of guys get mad when another guy kisses them if they weren’t really expecting it.”

“That doesn’t make sense. You can just tell someone you’re not interested.” His eyes flick down to Tommy’s mouth. “Or figure out that you are.”

“Are you sure—”

“You should come over so I can cook you dinner,” Buck says, suddenly wanting nothing more than to see Tommy in his loft and at his table. In his bed? Yeah, probably. “Saturday?”

Tommy smiles. “You mean tomorrow?”

Buck thinks about it. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

When Tommy kisses him again, Buck wraps his arm around his shoulders and spreads his hand over Tommy’s side. Tommy moans softly against his mouth, and Buck’s lips part further so he can tease his tongue against Tommy’s lips.

“Jesus, kid,” Tommy breathes when the kiss breaks, and it sends a bolt of heat through Buck’s belly. So, yeah, definitely guys. Guys are good. At least one is.

Buck’s phone goes off, and he reluctantly checks it. Maddie’s due pretty soon, so he can’t ignore his phone just in case it’s her.

It is, and Buck answers quickly.

“Maddie?” he says before mouthing an apology to Tommy. “Are you okay? Is the baby—”

“Buck,” she says. “Are you still coming over for dinner?”

Oh, right. The reason they’d done the matinee show for the movie. Buck’s supposed to be having a sibling dinner with his sister. He’s now late for it and feels like a dick.

“I am so sorry, I forgot. I’ll be there in twenty, twenty-five minutes? Do you need me to get anything on the way?”

“If you could get me enough garlic bread to fill your car, I’d be so happy.”

Buck snorts. “I can get some. Maybe not that much. But I’ll stop, just turn the oven on. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay!” she says brightly. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he says, hanging up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what time it was, and I did actually forget. I got, uh, distracted.”

Tommy smirks. “‘Distracted’?”

Buck swallows and nods, his eyes going to Tommy’s lips again. “Yeah.”

“God, you’re adorable.”

He’s never had a guy call him that before. He likes it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tommy says. “When do you want me over?”

“S-six?” Buck says, feeling himself sway toward Tommy like they’ve got magnets in their mouths. “Five. You start early on Sunday, right?”

“So do you,” Tommy points out.

“Oh, yeah,” Buck says dumbly. He goes in for another kiss, but it’s quick. Tommy pushes him back gently with a hand to his chest and nudges their noses together briefly before stepping away. “Bye.”

“Bye, Evan,” Tommy says, smiling and going toward his house.

Buck fumbles with his keys before he finally unlocks the Jeep, and he watches Tommy until he goes inside. It’s a thing he’s always done on dates. When Tommy waves before heading inside, Buck waves for a long time until the door is closed.

“Fuck, okay, garlic bread,” he says, turning the Jeep on. He grins the entire way to the store.

While he walks through Ralph’s, he also looks for stuff to use for the dinner he’s going to make for Tommy. On their date. Their fourth date.

Buck knows he’s standing in the middle of the baking ingredients aisle and smiling at his phone like an idiot. He knows that he’s going to spend half of his Saturday trying to perfect some kind of dessert. He knows he can’t wait to see Tommy and that he’s felt that way every time he’s seen him since they met.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Drabble List #13

75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.

"It's time to move on."

"There's no going back."

"Why do you care?"

"This could change everything."

"I need to know the truth."

"We can't give up hope."

"I knew it would come to this."

"They won't stop until they get what they want."

"I won't let you down."

"What are you waiting for?"

"I can't do this without you."

"We need to take a risk."

"How can I ever trust you again?"

"It's not too late to turn back."

"We need to act fast."

"This isn't about winning."

"What did you expect?"

"We need to find another way."

"How can you be so calm?"

"I won't let them hurt you."

"Why didn't you believe me?"

"This is our moment."

"I didn't know who else to turn to."

"We need to stay together."

"How did it come to this?"

"You're the only one who understands."

"We have to be ready for anything."

"I wish things were different."

"It's not as simple as it looks."

"What are we waiting for?"

"You think you know me, but you don't."

"It's not about what we want; it's about what we need."

"I've made mistakes, but this isn't one of them."

"Every choice comes with a consequence."

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"We have to find another way."

"You're stronger than you realize."

"I can't keep doing this forever."

"What if everything we've been told is a lie?"

"I won't let fear control me."

"Why do you always have to be right?"

"There's no place I'd rather be than here with you."

"This isn't the life I imagined."

"We have to keep moving forward."

"No one said it would be easy."

"We can't let them get away with this."

"It's time to make a stand."

"I never thought it would end like this."

"Do you really believe that?"

"We can't change the past, but we can shape the future."

"I'm not as perfect as you think."

"This is the moment we've been waiting for."

"You can't hide from the truth."

"Everything is falling apart."

"We need to stick to the plan."

"I refuse to give up."

"They don't understand what we're capable of."

"This is just the beginning."

"I never wanted to hurt you."

"We're running out of options."

"This is bigger than both of us."

"I can't believe you did that."

"We're all in this together."

"You have to see it from my perspective."

"It's not as simple as black and white."

"We're fighting for something greater than ourselves."

"I didn't choose this path; it chose me."

"We have to be brave."

"You're not alone in this."

"This isn't a game."

"I didn't come this far to fail now."

"We can't let fear hold us back."

"I'm not the same person I used to be."

"This isn't about revenge."

"I believe in you."

Drabble Masterlist

Have fun creating and writing!

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[unsolicited-opinions]

More on the Bankstown NSW Health nurses who claimed to have murdered Israelis at the hospital where they were employed and expressed the desire to do so again.

According to news reports from SBS and the ABC (which appear to be reputable) both nurses will (at least) be prevented from working as registered nurses in Australia.

That's good. That's the obvious, low-hanging fruit, no-brainer response and neither NSW Health Minister Ryan Park nor the Australian Health Practitioner Regulation Agency could do otherwise.

This is what any regulatory body would do, anywhere in the civilized world, if any licensed health professional was recorded claiming to have harmed (and/or intending to harm) any patient based on any national origin, any religion, or any ethnicity. Revoking their registration/license is the obvious, necessary action.

I think the bigger issue here is how widespread, normalized, and acceptable Jew hatred appears to be in Australia as so many defend the pair of nurses.

Here's Senator Fatima Payman defending them:

Senator Payman's pivot to an attack on an Imam seems to be the very same "whataboutism" which the illiberal left keeps saying they loathe.

Nobody smeared the reputation of Muslim Australians...except these two Muslim Australians.

Muslim neighborhoods in Sydney are not experiencing firebombings. They're not having nursery schools attacked. Nobody in the public health infrastructure has threatened the lives of Muslims, Palestinians, or Afghans.

Her claim that double standards are at play here is beyond ridiculous and the framing of these nurses as victims is profoundly dishonest.

If two Jewish Australian nurses were recorded claiming they'd murdered Muslim/Palestinian/Afghan patients at Australian public hospitals and planned to do so again, would Senator Payman make a video complaining that they've been punished and it's time to let it go? (Hint: No. She would not.)

The Muslim Vote Australia released this video claiming "...this is not just a double standard-it's an orchestrated moral framework where outrage is not dictated by the severity of an action, but by the one who commits it." (A conspiracy theory?)

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Text accompanying the video says that this is an "...orchestrated framework manufactured for political convenience while silence shields the powerful." (Again, this sounds like a conspiracy theory about Jewish media control.)

This video argues that the nurses' behavior is acceptable because of the "atrocities" and "genocide" taking place in Gaza. They should not be faulted, he argues, for their profound failure of professional ethics because of their feelings about the war.

If two Jewish Australian nurses were recorded claiming they'd murdered Muslim/Palestinian/Afghan patients at Australian public hospitals and planned to do so again, would this Imam make a video complaining that the subsequent outrage would be inappropriate? (Hint: No. He would not.)

I see the illiberal left constantly claiming that Israel uses the Holocaust to excuse atrocities. I see the illiberal left claim that antisemitism is a myth, a tool used by Jews to avoid accountability for crimes and moral failings.

This claim and these videos appear to be DARVO. They're doing exactly the same thing they accuse Jews of doing. They're weaponizing fears of Islamophobia in order to excuse crimes and moral failings while excusing them by lying about the war in Gaza.

I believe that if Jewish nurses anywhere in the civilized world claimed to have killed patients based on religion/ethnicity/origin and expressed the desire to do so again, mine would be only one of millions of Jewish voices calling for such Jewish nurses to be immediately sacked, de-registered, and investigated.

The thought I keep having isn't charitable and I'm concerned that it is bigoted, but it echoes in my head so loudly that I need to get it out:

Is it a part of Muslim culture to embrace the FA part of FAFO while refusing under any circumstances to accept the FO part?

Why are consequences for poor choices made by Muslims preaching/practicing violence never embraced as a matter of personal responsibility? In their world, the Palestinians have no agency and no responsibility for the horrible consequences of starting a war. These nurses, in this worldview, have no agency and no responsibility for their behavior because they're upset about the war which Islamist Muslims began and engineered to generate civilian casualties. In this worldview, any Muslims commiting crimes are exclusively victims, whose crimes are a response to oppression against them. This worldview casts Muslims only as victims, never as adults with agency and responsibility.

Can I recognize this as a repeating pattern without seeing myself as a bigot?

I don't think the Muslims I know and admire are Islamists, Jihadists, or Salafists. I don't think they endorse violence in the name of their faith.

I do think, though, that many of the moderate Muslims of the West, including some I know and like, do seem routinely to excuse it...using precisely these sorts of arguments and this very same counterfactual worldview.

So, am I an Islamophobe now?

That's not rhetorical, I'm actually asking. I'd like to know your thoughts.

[dreamsteddie]

Who Will Catch Me When You're Gone?

Content Tags: Platonic Sobin, major character death, grief, depression, major character undeath

Inspired by this beautiful art by @tarraing

------

When they found Steve, broken and bloody and scraped raw from the bats, all Robin could think about was that Steve's favorite sweatpants were ruined. She'd never understood those things or how someone so obsessed with fashion could wear them, but he'd always loved how comfortable they were. She razzes him about it every time he wears them.

Now they're ruined. Dirty and ripped.

She can hear Nancy ordering them to help her and Eddie freaking out but it's all just white noise to her right up until the moment everything comes flooding back in and the world has never been louder. Her breathing is deafening like she's trying to breathe for both of them.

Steve isn't breathing.

Steve isn't breathing but somehow she still is.

One moment she's stuck watching Nancy Wheeler try to patch her soulmate back together the next she's doing it for her so Nancy can start CPR. Eddie has stopped freaking out, she is dimly aware of him standing behind her, hovering because he doesn't know how to help. Doesn't know if there's any way to help.

Robin knows she's talking but it doesn't matter what she's saying. She doesn't think Steve can hear her. How could anything she says matter when her best friend isn't there to hear it? But she can't make herself stop, just in case.

But Steve never hears her. Nancy pushes on his chest and forces air into his lungs until her arms are shaking and she doesn't have enough strength to move his chest anymore. Then Robin takes over even though she has no idea what she's doing. Even though Nancy and Eddie are trying to tell her it's no use, that they need to go.

Like she could leave him here.

Then she's kicking and screaming because they're trying to pull her away. She's biting down on Eddie's ringed hand and kicking out into Nancy's ribs. She's not leaving, she's not. She can't do that to Steve, would rather lie down next to him, take his hand, and let the bats find her than leave him behind.

The last thing she sees before someone knocks her in the head is Steve's eyes, open and empty and staring right at her.

------

When Robin wakes up she's surrounded by people, but no one says a thing. She sees Dustin, red-eyed and empty standing in a corner across from the couch she's been placed on. Max won't look at her, Erica is glued to her side, Eddie looks lost, and Nancy looks like a block of steel. Steve isn't anywhere to be found.

But then again, Robin knew that. She'd know if Steve was her because their hearts beat as one, but now her chest feels empty. It's Max, brave, scared Max, who breaks the silence. Robin doesn't hear it. Doesn't listen as people start explaining plans around them. Can't channel the righteous fury she sees in Nancy, Dustin, and Max or the barely concealed fear in Eddie and Erica. All she feels is empty.

She's going to do whatever they want her to do because she knows it's what Steve would do. Knows without a shadow of a doubt that if she was the one lying dead in the Upside Down he would be on a war path in her name, so she needs to do the same.

When she launches that last fire bomb into Vecna's ugly head, it's a hallow victory.

Everyone else survives. The Byers move back to Hawkins. The town starts to rebuild. The big bad is gone for good.

But it doesn't mean anything to her. She lies in bed most days without saying a word. She lets her parents dote on her, listens passively as they try to remind her of the college acceptance letters waiting for her on the kitchen counter. Manages to sit up and smile just a little when Eddie brings Dustin and Erica by to see her. Cries with the two of them tucked under her arms, all three of them aware of how vulnerable they feel without a strong pair of arms wrapped around their other side.

Robin asks Eddie to hang back one day and makes a request. The next day he comes by with a clean needle and a pot of ink and Robin sits motionless as he engraves a sunflower inner her wrist, somewhere she'll always be able to see it. She always swore to Steve that she would never get a tattoo, too freaked out by the possibility of an infection, but those fears feel so distant now that the worst thing that could happen has come to pass. She catches Eddie with one of his own to match the next week.

------

A month goes by. She doesn't leave the house, even when Dustin comes by to beg her.

Then two. She can tell her parents are starting to really worry. They've given up trying to get to college and started trying to get her to think about therapy.

Then Five. She started going to work again. She puts on her Family Video vest and thinks about Steve. She walks through the door and imagines Steve leaning over the counter. Keith turns on Back to The Future and she goes home with a panic attack. She doesn't speak unless it's necessary, but she's trying to move forward. She knows it's what Steve would want for her, even on the days when it's not what she wants for herself.

And then Six months pass. There's a tap at her window.

She ignores it, at first. She refuses to go to a shrink, there are too many things she can't say to the ones her parents recommend, and she won't accept anything from those government goons who turned her best friend into a soldier. Into cannon fodder. Instead, she writes letters.

She sits down at her desk once a day and pours her heart out to Steve. She lets herself pretend for a few moments every day that he's just been dragged away by his parents for a few months. He's out there somewhere in the world relying on her to keep her updated on the kids and the drama at work and herself until she can go out and join him, wherever he is. Some days she writes about nothing at all, some days she rages at him for leaving her behind, sometimes she speculates about their future where she goes to college wherever he is and they get an apartment and two dogs. She seals every one in an envelope, tucks them in a drawer, and lets herself breathe in that perfect fantasy for just a moment. It's the best part of her day, and nothing can tear her away from it.

Except the tapping doesn't stop.

And Robin lives on the second floor.

And everyone she knows would just come through the front door.

She turns, so slowly, toward the window. The glare from her bedside lamp makes it impossible to see anything through it, but she doesn't need to.

There are fingers, claws, forcing their way under the sill. She sucks in a sharp breath as they curl upward, crashes to the ground as they start to pull.

She's scrambling back, getting ready to scream and make a run for the walkie she leaves on silent on her desk to call for help. To warn the others that their monsters are back before it mows her down.

But then the window gives way and she stops. Stops everything.

Because the thing in her window is wearing her best friend's face. It's wearing his hair and his moles and his stupid fucking sweatpants.

And at the end of the day it doesn't actually matter what he looks like. It doesn't matter if there are new hinges in his jaw to show off new, shark-like teeth. It doesn't matter mater if he can't say anything besides a hissed, garbled rendition of her name. It doesn't even matter when he latches onto her wrist, right above that little sunflower, and sucks, taking just enough blood to make her light-headed.

Because she can feel his heartbeat pounding along with her own, perfectly in sync.

Because she's not alone, anymore.

[spidori]

Interesting wrinkle to this, normal human poop is actually brown largely because of blood related reasons. The iron complexes from red blood cells provide a lot of browns and reds, and the liver provides a green compound called bile which helps dissolve oily stuff, and you get the basic pallet of normal colon color.

Not sure what effect this would have on vampire excrement, but I'll take a stab in a sec. (Coming back after writing my conclusion, I ended up with the possibility of vampire poop possibly being actual thermite) Most importantly though, it seems likely that they would poop. Iron doesn't turn gaseous easily, so it has to be excreted as either a solid or dissolved in a liquid. And Vampires seem biologically hyper-efficient, only needing blood and all, which really isn't very nutritious. So I'm guessing they hold onto water like dessert creatures, and probably don't pee.

As to pooping though, it seems super unlikely that they have a normally functioning liver, so there goes any green shades. And if we're going with hyper-efficient biology, they probably pull out pretty much all the water similar to how birds can...

I literally just realized this while writing that last sentence, and I'm sticking to it. I'm going to make the claim that it makes the most sense for vampires to use essentially everything in the blood so efficiently that only things which can't be off-gassed are left at the very end. That means no biological compounds, those can be converted to a gas for some energy or biological process, just minerals and mineral oxides, completely dessicated. In other words, a vampire dump would be basically pure packed ore dust, the large portion of which would be iron oxide, aka rust.

Two things that jump out to me from this. One, we probably shouldn't tell the dwarves that the vampires can excrete pure ore dust, otherwise we'll probably have a dwarf fortress level scenario on our hands.

Second, if your vampire ingests some sort of aluminum-based blood (not too absurd, the same structures that hold iron in human blood hold plenty of other metals in other places) alongside normal blood, they might be able to excrete extremely high-grade thermite. Because that's just aluminum and iron oxide powders, ground into fine powders, mixed, and ignited with something hot enough to get the reaction started. The finer the grind, the better it burns, and what the vampire is excreting is likely fine to the molecular level, probably to the point it looks more like a liquid than a dust.

Our entire DnD party is engaged is trying to decide if vampires poop.

The DM desperately doesn’t want us to be inquiring. But our newly mortal ex-vampire NPC is engaging in mortality for the first time in a century and has forgotten how to do things. She called cheese, “as good as eating people.” We are explaining things like, no, you can’t jump off that tower, you’re not dying it’s just sunburn, don’t take that many drugs you will literally die.

And then we’re all out of character discussing possible vampire anatomy and digestion. I posited that if they’re anything like vampire bats they probably pee a lot but don’t poop. He evaded as much as he could but then we got onto the topic of having a period again after a century of no periods. And how upset we’d all be after a century of freedom and that’s only once a month.

Imagine the indignity of having to resume pooping.

[peoniesandflowers]

Geta ABC Headcanons

NSFW under the cut!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) When the deed was done, Geta would quickly get his desired relief and make it known that he wanted to be left alone. He is someone that is not particularly interested in cuddling or pillow talks, so he only started doing it as you two saw each other more frequently.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) He likes his torso and chest since he has been able to sculpture it. But for his partner, his favourite would be their neck, the sensation of it beneath his lips and nails drives him to madness.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He likes to come outside, since to him is a way of marking another person without other risks. As you two grow closer, tho, he will start coming inside too, saying how much he wants you to get pregnant.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) One morning, both of you were having breakfast on his room, and you licked some honey from your fingers, making him have an idea. Next thing you know, his tongue is all over your body, licking you clean after he poured threads of honey all over your skin.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He has plenty of experience on what he likes since he has had a few lovers, so you'll need to be patient to let him learn about what you like.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Loooves to see you on your knees looking up at him, even if it's just resting your head on his lap. He also likes you riding him so he can suck on your nipples and play with your ass.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He might tease you and make you chuckle at first, but he loves to get serious all of a sudden, making you unable to do anything else but moan.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) He trims and takes care of it, but won't fully shave down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) At first, he isn't that much thoughtful of how "attentive" he is being, only making sure you also cum (because he wants to hold certain reputation) but as time goes by he gets more heated with you, enjoying every part of your body.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Why should he pleasure himself when he has slaves and concubines? Same thing even when you are together.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) He is always the dominant one. He does not have to be it all the time, but even though he can be soft, gentle and charming, he is not going to be submissive. Being that said, taunt him and degrade him juuust enough, and you won't be able to walk for a week.

He also enjoys a bit of pain, so scratch his back, hold his neck tight and bite his hand when he muffles you, he will let you know how much he loves it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) He has a bit of a public/thrill of being found out fantasy, and has been found in very precarious places. Behind a pillar here, a small, hidden room there. If you even suggest riding him on his throne, you won't be able to even walk up there because of how fast he will carry you on his shoulder to get there.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) This man is easy to pursue if you know how to talk to him. Bat your eyelashes a little and say that you miss him and that's enough for him.

At the same time, tease him and taunt him about how you are not sure if he will be able to do something (like making you cum) and his ego will do the rest.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Not being in control is a huge no for him, so, for example, tying him down will only happen if he trusts that you will do only things he likes and wants.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He is not really used to give since he hasn't really bothered about other people's pleasure, but if you know how to push his buttons and say something like "yeah, it's okay, you can't be good at everything" to tease him how XYZ lover did it so much better, he will get to town. The only thing, I feel like he will get impatient, so he will only do it when he knows it can make you come quick.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) He loves a fast pace, specially if he can either see or hear how you bounce on him. As you too see more, he can get more lovey-dovey but it aaaalways gets up getting heated and fast.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He loves them, both for how risky they can be and how fast he can make you come.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He is the one suggesting stuff to you and just seeing if you are okay with it. About what he suggests, i would leave it up to y'all.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) 2 to 3 if it has been a short while. 4 and even 5 if he has been a long time since he could have you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) i dead ass feel like it will make him jealous 💀💀💀 like he would say something like "you are only allowed to come on my dick" or something like that

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He usually won't do it in public or social situations since he has scold his brother for such manners before.

If you two are alone, he may lay down on the same sofa where you are seated and trace his fingers on your skin softly, both to just feel you and make you remember that he can just do that and more if he wanted to.

If you decide to tease him in private, he would like to see how far you are able to get it through. But tease him too much, and he will make you beg to come, leaving you on the edge.

Pray for your soul of you decide to tease him outside the bedroom.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He gets loud. He moans he grunts he huffs a d he swears.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He has a very sensitive neck. Kiss it softly and you'll swear you heard him purr just right before he throws you to the bed.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) 10,5 cm, thick, and a small mole on the right side of his crotch

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) He can do good for 4 days without neither sex nor masturbation, then he either pleases himself or takes you, whatever he can do at that moment.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) At first he would come, turn around and sleep. Now he cuddles you a little and checks that you are okey before falling sleep.

More headcanons:

Caracalla's ABC (NSFW)

Maximus' ABC (NSFW)

[svnnyd4ys]

thinking about Bubba and Jeremiah post war because- well. Is that even Jeremiah anymore?

think about it this way:

imagine being in love.

(imagine being Bubba.)

and the man (the one that you want and love) decides to fight in the war that cost you your leg, and nearly cost you him as well.

he still has night terrors and you still have night sweats, and you wake up one night, his shirt sticking to you like a second skin, but him not in bed.

there had been a message from the president over the radio the day before. they're coming back. they're coming back, and this time you won't even be able to run from them.

he's outside, and he's enjoying what could be one of the last times either of you ever see a spherical moon.

you sit down on the decking, hours spent watching him in silence and memorising the shape of his back under the bare light, until that spherical moon becomes a spherical sun, the two of them dancing in the sky (just like you used to).

when he turns to you, he looks disappointed to see you there. i told you yesterday. i don't want to have this fight, he tells you, it's done.

the country needs him. (who doesn't?) and the next day, he leaves.

he's a good soldier, but he's better at giving orders than following them himself. you know him like the back of your hand- not just his contours, his moles, his scars but you know his mind. you've seen it work everyday for the past 20 years.

you get yourself some new cube legs (hey, they nearly took everything from you- it's only fair you get something in return) and then you follow him to the front, pretending to be a new recruit. he's struggling, obviously and now seems to be the perfect time to reveal the truth- and then? well, the pair of you ride off into battle.

it seems that you revealed yourself to him just in time.

your husband dies in your arms. your husband dies in your arms.

(the pair of you look back on it and laugh now, but sometimes when Jeremiah's asleep and he's holding you, you bury yourself a little further into his chest and only breath when he does.)

you lay him down on the soft dirt beneath you, the eyes that looked at you with love were now looking to the dying sky and the mouth that once wrapped itself around quips or around you was slack and limp.

take a moment. stop and look to that same sky. watch it with him for the final time, before letting the old you take over. it's a good way to get out of things you don't want to do. how many times have you done it? how many times have you locked yourself out of your own body to run from it?

well, it's caught up to you now.

words fail you and he failed you but your new legs don't. your horse doesn't. he takes you where you need to be, and turns out-

it's the heart of the beast.

the Cube HQ. the Cube-Within-Cubes. it sounds silly to say it, it does. but you've seen what they can do. (who they do it to) (you lost your sister and your legs in the first war, your husband and yourself in the second- in the present. it's not over yet).

your president is in there. the guy responsible for all of this. (you'll realise later that this isn't true, but right now, naming someone with the blame erases any guilt you possibly feel. it's what keeps you going.)

they've trapped him inside a cube, and he says they'll do the same to you. you'd love to see them try. he admits to being a bad president, and when you're halfway through agreeing with him-

one of them is there. it's been behind him. it's been watching you. at this point, you can hear Jeremiah telling you to hold your horses. hold your tongue, but that's not who you are. and you probably would've said more, but then the president's wife shows up.

(it's horrific, you think to yourself. his lover gets to survive, and she gets cube legs. your lover gets what? a few more scars? a final resting place? no gratitude, that's for sure.)

his wife tries her best, she tries using her new cube legs- but there's no affect on the looming cube, their queen.

she's evolved. she can walk like you (before you got your new legs) and she talks in a stilted way- but she talks.

she speaks of peace- a combining of your spherical world, her cubic world. it sounds perfect. but it's not. because the one person you want to see this, the one who's been by your side through it all is dead.

he won't be there with you.

he won't be there with you.

until she offers a deal.

a life-jelly (you can practically hear Jeremiah, see him, slyly laughing) for peace.

you can bring him back. you can bring him back and he'll be able to see the one thing he always wanted.

the president isn't as bad as you had thought, all things considered, and he lets you make the choice and he lets you bring the thing you want the most in this world back.

it is not him.

they didn't reanimate him, they didn't perform any fucked up cube magic. the queen was there and then she screamed, and she shrunk and transformed (those screams still keep you up at night, and you know they keep him up to because sometimes- sometimes you can feel him, or you'll wake up and see his face twisted into the same malformed visage as his saviour).

and then he was there.

Jeremiah.

you don't know when they started, but suddenly limp tears of relief, of happiness, of unshed grief begin to fallm and you wrap yourself around him.

he doesn't hug you back, doesn't move and his eyes- oh god, his eyes.

they're dull, and darting from face to face, place to place and- what if? what if he doesn't recognise you? what if he's still their queen, and this is just their plan? what if-

and then he practically topples you both. just like the Jeremiah you knew.

the president seems grateful, but as you four (his wife and Jeremiah become fast friends on the plane ride back) return to the main base, he doesn't say a word.

he simply turns on his heel, the new sun shining lightly down on him, the wife following after.

no more words are exchanged, but the next morning, there's a new Alexa sat on your bunk in the dorms and there's a plane ready to take you back to the farm.

Jeremiah sleeps basically the whole flight back. you don't. you sit on the seat opposite him, watching the gentle rise and fall and rise of his chest underneath the new starchy plaid shirt.

the medical team looked over him, and dismissed every single worry of yours- but he died. and then the 'life jelly' took on his form!

it's fucked!

the plane lands near your farm, secluded and away from everyone. Jeremiah clings to you like you're a life vest and he'll drown if he lets go. (chances are, he will.)

the first morning is rough. Jeremiah sleeps through it. he sleeps for the whole day and the next. you keep a silent vigil next to him, only leaving the bed to go to the bathroom, or to the kitchen (not that you can stomach much anyway, but Jeremiah's voice guides you through your routine, acting as a beacon through the fog), or to stand outside and observe the dodecahedron sun dance with the dodecahedron moon.

cool air whips at your face, and suddenly you hear him scream.

it's a horrible, shrill, gurgling sound and you nearly drop the glass of whiskey you're holding, jumping up from your seat on the porch and running up the stairs. (thank God for those cube legs, right?)

this goes on for weeks.

every night without fail, and every night it ends with him in your arms, on your chest listening to your unsteady heartbeat, or you in his, listening to his steady rythym.

a year passes, but things still haven't gone back to normal.

sometimes- Jeremiah wakes up in the corn field, staring up at the sun. he never remembers leaving the bed, and you would've felt it if he had. he speaks differently too, stuttering and stumbling through once familiar words, now acting like barbed-wire around his throat.

(he can barely say 'i love you' without it sounding like it physically pains him. your name now sounds like poison, or a broken radio when it once sounded like honey, or a record spinning on a gramophone.)

he's more difficult to hurt now.

one of the first times that he willingly left the bed, he scared you.

you were in the kitchen, the familiar friendly haze of whiskey seeping over you when his crackly voice speaks it's first proper sentence- "Alexa, play Baby Back by Future" "Now playing: MESSAGE FROM THE PRESIDENT" "NO!!"

and you scream. the crystalline glass slips from your white knuckle grasp, and Jeremiah runs into the room, right onto the pile of shards.

you stand there, watching him. his shape is not as stern as it once was. his hands, his legs, his back- they move more. they're softer, as they dart across the glimmering glass, you notice that they barely even get a scratch.

his eyes are watching your every move, and you can feel them embedding a heated stare in your back as you turn away, grabbing the matching crystalline glass.

(they were wedding presents from his mother. the date of your marriage is engraved on them (13/01) and your names are written in cursive, perfectly and forever intertwined)

Jeremiah makes a passing comment on you having a heavy hand as you pour yourself another glass, and you say nothing. the old Jeremiah would've joined you for a drink. he would've left the shards there, hopping over them into your arms, pressing a kiss to the square line of your clenched jaw.

this is not your Jeremiah.

this will never be your Jeremiah.

you can love him as much as you want, but this is not him.

you remember- before all of this, you woke one night to find your Jeremiah staring at you, gently tracing a continuous line over your face. you had asked him why, but instead of replying with words he shushed you.

that night, his eyes had looked at you with so much love.

now, they barely look at you at all. he remembers the routine, the warmth you bring, but you don't think you can see an ounce of recognition in his eyes at all.

he does this because it feels right, because you've stayed by his side where a weaker man would've run. and maybe, there is some semblance of your Jeremiah still in there. maybe that's why he does these things, because the essence of your love is still there.

for a moment, you stand there, watching as he places the pieces of shattered glass on the counter top, neither of you speaking another word.

wordlessly, you leave this man and his soft sides and raspy voice in the cold heat of the kitchen, grabbing your whiskey on the way out. he doesn't follow after you, his eyes transfixed on the circular wall clock hanging just past your head.

you stand in the cornfield that Jeremiah proposed to you in.

he promised to stay safe and to keep you safe, as long as the two of you were together and even if (God forbid) the two of you weren't, but over the past year- the whiskey and the vodka and the gin have all been more of a safety net than him.

they don't have his arms, or his smile, but they make it easier to pretend that he still has those things.

you don't know how long you're out there, but the sun has risen and set and risen again, so you go back inside.

Jeremiah isn't there. the kitchen is clean, but Jeremiah isn't there and you whip your head around, desperation grasping at your neck like a dog's teeth.

dancing in the light of the kitchen table, is the glass you dropped from last night, and next to it, a small tube of superglue, and it's lid, the glue slowly seeping out of it.

holding the glass up with shaking hands, you can see its chips, its imperfections- but it's still nice.

you slowly creep into the living room, and Jeremiah is asleep on the blue couch. you had insisted on buying it when you first moved in together, but he'd hated it. he hated a lot of things that you'd loved, but he loved seeing you happy. you stand there, considering things for a minute, before grabbing a blanket that had been thrown over a nearby chair and covering him with it.

he doesn't stir, chest barely rising and falling but you can barely stand to look at the man claiming to be your Jeremiah anymore.

[bwat5-blog]

Reality Check: Caitlyn & Vi

**Spoilers For Arcane**

Alrighty. This won't be too long as it doesn't need to be but I am seeing a lot of the same nonsense lately and it is bugging me. For anyone who hasn't seen me say so a million times already, Vi is my favorite character. She has been since the show started for a variety of reasons.

And in truth although I greatly enjoyed Caitlyn's story and she grew much more engaging to me in season two, I was never nearly as invested in her. But My. God. The amount of absolute nuclear grade bull-shit that has been used to try and demonize her has made me talk about her SO MUCH MORE than I ever intended. So I wanted to address something.

The Hit:

Okay. Let's talk about this real quick because people have really latched on to this. It it okay or acceptable that Caitlyn hit Vi?

Obviously Not

And Caitlyn doesn't think so either. Look at her face just before she turns. But there is an OCEAN of factors at play here influencing Caitlyn and Vi both and it is about a million miles from being as simple as that. I'm not getting into all of that here I have done it many times already. But to address a few points:

This is the only time she hits Vi knowingly in anger. The second time she doesn't have any idea who Vi is. The third time is part of a plan Vi is quite clearly on board with. Stop exaggerating.

Vi forgave Caitlyn way too easily for this!"-

Okay. Like I said it isn't about making this okay. And it isn't about some sort of trauma Olympics as I've seen it called. But we need to remember some things that Vi certainly would.

Even if at the time it was for her own purposes Caitlyn got her out of prison when she really had no hope of ever being free

Caitlyn saved her life repeatedly in Zaun when she barely knew her and owed her nothing

Caitlyn offered herself in Vi's place before she knew the firelights were friendly

Caitlyn gave Ekko the gemstone and was going to let him present it to the council

Caitlyn stood side by side with Vi and told the council to their faces they had failed all of Zaun

Jinx abducted and terrorized Caitlyn after nearly killing her, all for her proximity to Vi

Caitlyn spared Jinx when Vi begged her to and it cost her her mother

As far as we see and are made aware, Caitlyn never blames or tries to put that on Vi

Caitlyn apologizes to Vi for springing the badge, clearly feels guilty and is honest that she is afraid she or Jinx will die if Vi doesn't come

When they do see each other again, Caitlyn immediately is on board with helping Vi save her family

When Jinx surrenders herself into custody Caitlyn doesn't send her to Stillwater and doesn't immediately try and execute her when she could have. Instead waiting for Vi to wake up

Clears the path for Vi to free Jinx and escape if she chooses. Putting her love for Vi over her hatred of Jinx

Like I said. This isn't about justification. There is no justifying physically harming someone you love. But there is a world of difference between doing something terrible in a TERRIBLE moment and being a chronic domestic abuser like some of you are saying Caitlyn is. And as far as I'm concerned, Vi knows exactly who Caitlyn really is, and chose love and forgiveness.

[utilitycaster]

I really appreciate your thorough breakdowns of this campaign's end, because I fell off of watching live back in summer 2023 (personal reasons), and though I kept myself pretty up-to-date with subsequent events I eventually started thinking "I'll come back when interesting things start happening" and I just never seemed to find that point. Good to know I'm far from the only one pretty displeased with how things apparently left off.

To throw in my two cents, I think you're spot-on with your impression of what kind of people those who think this was a narratively satisfying ending are. Specifically, I think it's coming from the type of people who find certain characters (I'm sure you can guess who) extremely relatable—difficult childhood, and/or early adulthood trauma, and/or were taken advantage of in grief—but refuse to acknowledge the fact that recovering from these things requires choosing to personally put in effort to do so. They want these characters to be handed a perfect happy ending, no work required, no matter what, and so when those of us who find that unsatisfactory dare to voice that opinion it's a personal attack on them saying that they don't deserve to be handed joy without working for it, because if their favorite characters can have it, so should they. (Because fiction is reflective of reality, so clearly that's what that means, I guess.) It's frustrating because I'd had high hopes for Imogen and Laudna's story in the beginning of the campaign, but there was a point where I just couldn't put up with their deliberate stagnation anymore. Definitely could have been psychologically interesting, though.

(And, just to be perfectly clear, this isn't a dig at anyone in the cast or anything—I suspect this was a case of too much ambition from previous success leading to less careful planning all around. I'm admittedly not super clear on exactly what the deal was with all the gods in the finale, though, so it's entirely possible I'm missing something major.)

Thanks! And yeah that does really feel like it in the end. Like, it is a campaign that seems to mainly be enjoyed by excuse-makers who want there to be a reason why it's right and proper to enjoy it and that criticizing it is inherently bad and wrong. Like, sorry man, if you see a post in the wild from someone you've never seen before indicating a character you relate to is stagnant and childish and your response isn't to say "well, I believe that's untrue, I'll make my own post about this" or "I don't like this so I'll block them" or "hmmmm maybe they are stagnant and childish, but they are relatable for other reasons, which are:" but instead to complain to them about how they are judging you, a random person they've never spoken to, you are the problem! You are the one feeling judged by a stranger who doesn't know you exist and who has no power to do anything beyond say something mean to you, and instead of going "wait this doesn't fucking matter" you are demanding the world bend around you to your will, and playing the victim when the world says "lmao no."

Like, again, no one is actually defending the campaign meaningfully. They're coming up with excuses why they can't or they're coming up with incorrect reasons why critique is impermissible (that fortunately no one is listening to) - that it's improv, that it's happy, that people aren't couching their posts sufficiently in This Is Only My Opinion (this is not how reviews/crit works, eg this AV Club article on the Severance premiere does not have Saloni Gajjar say "this is only my opinion" at the top because anyone who is smart enough to engage with media criticism in the first place doesn't need to be told this; there is a reason we are treating people with disdain and that's because the very act of being bothered by people phrasing criticism without This Is Only My Opinion is an immediate sign you are, in fact, not smart enough to get on this ride). It's the same with the characters. They want something to have suffered enough to be beyond criticism, and the rest of the fandom has (correctly) rejected that paradigm entirely, and they have no way to counter anything head on.

And as for Imogen and Laudna...while I think many things in the campaign were flaws that went beyond them, they certainly were at the heart of several, and I think had their relationship been a genuine slowburn - had Laudna rejected Imogen and remained mad in episode 65, as Laura outright expected - it might have been something worth our while.

I do think the bulk of...not even blame, simply responsibility, rests on Matt, and I do think it's mostly stretched thin/burnout/not realizing how this concept required much more work than past campaigns did, and again, I don't hold it against the cast (their live show in Philly this December was great, the CRF one-shot was fun, the Assassin's Creed one-shot was fun, and EXU Divergence has been stellar) but yeah it didn't work very well.

[drdemonprince]

Ok sanctimonious covid anon. I guess "sanctimonious" isn't great and yes shame is only one tactic that is not uniformly effective (but also not uniformly ineffective). When does this become a respectability politics issue with disabled people though? Idk, when the public health response is transparently eugenicist and many supposed fellow radicals don't care to mask (some cannot due to access but i promise plenty just dont Wanna) to stop chains of transmission for a still relatively novel airborne virus, is it the responsibility of disabled anticovid organizers to be super nice all the time during covid education, when even when we are, plenty of our supposed comrades don't mask with us and leave the onus of organizing accessible events all on us? Obviously not all your responsibility to shoulder lol, you just have an open askbox + what feels like disappointing covid minimization/denialism next to the rest of your politics or other elucidated points of view.

No, like the burden of public health messaging and advocacy should have never been placed on the shoulders of disabled and high risk immunocompromised people, that's the whole issue and that's the whole point. because of the context collapse of the internet there are a lot of different types of conversations all happening in the same place at once. disabled people have the right to grouse about being left behind by others and to be enraged, and to not have to tone police themselves, but what someone is emotionally or morally entitled to is not the same thing as what's rhetorically effective. it's just not. it's not fair and it's not right and none of what's happening here is. and I don't think that even the most judicious careful motivatingly worded advocacy on the part of disabled people on the internet would be enough to change the tide at this point. there's simply not enough people doing that work and none of them have any power. what we need is some kind of organized public health apparatus that actually empowers people to make the correct decisions by doing things like paying people to stay home, requiring buildings to update their ventilation, handing out free masks, requiring masks in public spaces, and continuing to make vaccines free. we don't have any of that. we can exert some soft social pressure on our closest associates some of the time, and organize events that reflect our principles and understanding of risk mitigation, but we don't have the systemic force necessary to get done what needs to get done, and in the absence of that, people tend to revert to shame fueled rhetoric that is not super helpful and in fact, fairly or not, puts a lot of people off. but like, I get the despair at this point. I really do. i feel it about almost every large scale change that id like so see in the world. so like, say what you want. I think as long as people are clear with themselves with why they are doing the messaging they're doing and are okay with impact it might have, however minimal, like go off. because I don't think the cheery infographics that are more patiently telling people to wear masks are doing a whole hell of a lot at this point either. Don't think we're going to post our way out of this one one way or the other. It sucks but that's how I'm feeling right about now.

[lover-of-mine]

I agree that they would never do permanent unrequited Buddie (basically Buck realizes he has feelings for Eddie and Eddie doesn't return them). Now I have seen a lot of people speculate that they would do a temporarily unrequited Buddie. Like, Buck thinks Eddie wouldn't return his feelings so he doesn't confess. Or, Buck confesses but Eddie is still in denial/confused about his sexuality, rejects him gently, and then struggles with it and realizes later that he does love him.

Out of the two scenarios, I would really hate the second one if it stretches more than one episode. Literally one is all I could handle 😂 Can you imagine how toxic and demoralizing it would be in fandom?? Think about how people misinterpret the very obvious queer-coded 'I'm straight' line in 8x06. I also think the GA would get whiplash if Eddie is like, 'Sorry, I'm straight!' then a few episodes later is like, 'Wait...' I just think it would be tricky to tell that kind of a storyline, and I'm not sure the show can do it well enough. I ordinarily would have more faith, but I think there are a lot of factors that could make it risky.

What are your thoughts? Would you accept a temporary situation where Buck realizes first and then either decides to keep it himself or tell him and potentially face short-lived rejection?

Imma be honest with you, either of those 2 possibilities would piss me the fuck OFF. None of the main pairings of the show were put as unrequited for any amount of time, honestly, there isn't a pairing that was put as unrequited, just as not suited for the long run, the closest you can get to "unrequited" is Buck looking upset when Taylor called him a friend, even Tommy dumping Buck the first time was resolved within the same episode. The idea that they would torture Buck like that is drama for the sake of drama. Buddie has consistently been written as fully in sync and to place them in a space where they seem impossible, temporarily or not, is stupid. "Oh bUt i wAnT PiNiNg" bestie, we can still get pining if Buck figures it out after Eddie comes out. We can still get pining if they figure it out in parallel. I'm not saying make them figure it out and immediately confess, I'm just saying the audience needs to at least be aware that Eddie is queer before Buck figures it out, or else it's just cruel. Painting them as impossible for the audience is cruel. It's why I keep saying give me a parallel thing, because you can have the characters thinking is unrequited, having the audience think that too would suck.

Also, Eddie's arc is about finding joy, I don't know where the fuck the idea that Eddie is drowning in internalized homophobia and would reject Buck comes from, but it doesn't come from canon. Also, buddie needs to be different from every other relationship Buck had before, if Eddie chases him away and then they eventually get together, you have Buck ending up with someone who rejected him once again, hello hamster wheel. I understand the apprehension about Eddie queer arc, but they got Buck out in one episode, they can build up to Eddie figuring it out. Will it be a 160k word fanfic arc? No, but they can just talk about how he didn't realize it. Eddie doesn't know he's queer and he's gonna be put in a position to figure that out and then we can go from there.

[acourtofthought]

There was no conflict preventing Nesta from being with Cassian. The only thing that stood in their way was Nesta and Nesta alone. So why would Gwyn and Az need some sort of external conflict to be together? Clearly Az is his own worst enemy and that's a big enough hurdle for any female to jump over if they started to go down the path of a possible relationship. Elain and Lucien did have external conflicts considering she was in love with and engaged to someone else when their bond snapped and Lucien was struggling with the realization that the one he thought was his mate was not his mate. Also, Nesta and Feyre were constantly trying to keep Lucien from Elain at the start so again, they had many external conflicts. Elain and Az aren't more likely because "they have conflict preventing them from being together". Lucien walked away so Elain could be with Graysen, he would obviously do the same if she chose to be with anyone else. And Az had an entire year to talk to Elain, spend time with Elain, etc. with nobody standing in his way. Yes, Rhys put him in his place on Solstice but that was because Az could not convince Rhys he wasn't just using Elain for sex. Had Az professed any true feelings for Elain then my guess is that scene would have played out entirely different. So no, E/riel isn't "obvious" because of all the "conflict" they have. There's no forbidden love when Sarah has written Elain as telling people straight to their face they can't tell her what to do. And as said above, sometimes a characters inner demons are all the conflict Sarah needs to write a compelling love story.

[betterbemeta]

I like the cockroach spirit of posts going around to encourage queer community in the USA during this current time. I think that's valuable.

Where some of them are losing me though is 'do you know how to DIY HRT'? Which is definitely a valuable knowledge to have! You should know all that is possible regardless of what choices you make. But I think we need to have a chat about illegalism. okay.

Illegalism is: "illegal actions, seen through a lens of praxis, ideology, systemic activity."

When you tell someone that they should/must be prepared to break the law for their safety, security, survival, or even just because it's a stupid law, illegalism has entered the discussion.

in the USA, Testosterone is classified as a Schedule-III controlled substance. The penalty for illegal possession and use is not as high as Schedule I or II. But we should still understand what its status means, beyond the concept of 'magnitude of punitive consequences' when we talk about it. Illegalism can help us do that.

Public understanding of illegality is pretty much dog shit where I live, starting in early childhood. We typically are taught early that it's bad to break the law, without a need to know what any laws actually are in detail. Or how they're enforced aside from 'by the police,' or the level of knowledge enforcers have, what the objectives of said laws are, and if you had any say in the process. The idea of 'criminals' is hazy at best, like, 'bogeymen.' Religion definitely pollutes this, like 'a criminal' is a Bad Person, Unlawful, Sinner, Punishable, etc.

But this means many people think of 'crimes' in very limited ways, or don't update this knowledge over time. I think it would be fair to say that it's common to think, 'when it's hard to compete, some people cheat.' It's very popular to believe that it's 'easier' to do illegal, dishonest, illegitimate actions as if these are all the same concept. They aren't.

But that narrative seems to 'make sense' as its commonly applied to a doping scandal. That person couldn't win a sports competition fairly. So they took testosterone, or a steroid. That's easier than 'competing fairly,' isn't it?

No! It's way more expensive, riskier to get and use a prohibited substance than to not do that.

In reality, illegal actions are harder than legal ones. This has nothing to do with whether this is a moral or immoral action, enforcement of the law is only about making some actions harder to accomplish than others.

This is not always enforced by the cop form of violence, the prison form of violence. Sometimes it's enforced by the fine form of violence. Or the 'fee' form-- others are 'allowed' to capitalize on the barrier to access. Scarcity can do the job with years-long waiting lists or every warehouse out of stock of something you're technically allowed to obtain. Inconvenience can be enforcement too: requiring so much time or effort that it's easier to quit than to complete the process... if it even has an end.

Some things are hard to 'successfully' prohibit even by all of these means. The consequences may be enormous and brutal if the police raid your 1950s gay scene, but it costs people very little money, frustration, time to 'go to the same place as other people in your local area.' This is because many non-illegal activities require 'walking around', 'meeting people'-- laws against 'crossdressing' or 'soliciting' are often written to select 'the criminals' out of a bunch of people doing ordinary things.

But can you tell me your plan to DIY some Adderall? Do you know how to make Adderall? Do you know a drug dealer? Can you pay the price they set? Can you protect yourself from that person's level of risk as well as manage your own? Are you capable of giving informed consent about the Adderall you obtain-- if it's just some cornstarch in a pill jacket, do you have a way to test that?

If you answered yes to these things, you probably have more resources than some people who will hear 'just DIY it.' Yes, that includes 'do you know a drug dealer.' Drug dealers aren't 'those things poor people know.' And someone who currently pays nothing for their medication via a govt. program, and loses access to that program, is not going to be helped by The Ability To Buy Weed In The State of Georgia.

So we can now understand that unlike walking, meeting people, 'obtaining restricted substances' is an extremely specific behavior that authorities assume no 'normal' people need to do. Even crossdressing in the 1950s, dresses had to be available for women so the sale of dresses, creation of them couldn't be regulated. Laws are enforced at the stage that 'selects the criminal'-- if that enforcement is absolute, you may not be able to break a specific law at all even if you wanted to. DIY me some Plutonium-239.

But what difference does it make if Adderall, HRT, become simply so difficult to access that they might as well be weapons-grade plutonium even to people who legally could obtain them? That's already true for some people, and if conditions continue to deteriorate could apply to more people. How do you 'DIY' your way out of that? (Hint: it may require...)

"Be prepared to break the laws you can break," is a less attractive statement, isn't it?

It's necessary. But it also admits that some of us may not be able to successfully resist oppression even by illegal means. Or at least not completely, or in all ways. Some of us could just be stuck experiencing the material consequences of losing human rights. The scope of illegal actions some will be capable of will be like, shoplifting laundry detergent. violating a lease, working extra unreported jobs, squatting. Rioting. While not being on T.

[burningcheese-merchant]

It's so cool to see CRK getting popular again, it feels so refreshing like so much new quality fan content dropping that we couldn't even DREAM about a couple of months ago, but it hurts my very soul seeing new players being interested in beast x ancient ships, in their dynamics, asking is it okay to ship it and getting slapped in the face with another "IT'S ABUSER X VICTIM IT'S A PROSHIP IT'S A DARKSHIP" (which is just not true) killing off all the fun, bc apparently enemies to lovers, AUs and what-ifs doesn't exist anymore and everything that isn't pure fluff is illegal now. "IT'S NOT ENEMIES TO LOVERS, BEASTS ABUSED AND TORTURED THEM" yeah THAT'S WHAT ENEMIES DO??? What else do you expect from a villain honestly??? Like in ANY media??? Beasts still got their ass beat in the end as they totally deserve BECAUSE ANCIENTS ARE NOT SOFT INNOCENT SMALL BABIES THAT NEED TO BE PROTECTED, they're grown ass IMMORTAL ADULTS with huge responsibilities, they rule kingdoms, they hold a huge power in their hands, they're imperfect and not innocent. They can stand for themselves, they can fight, they can destroy, they can lie and they WILL if they need to.

I can SMELL that a shit tonne of people in this fandom secretly enjoys beast x ancient as a guilty pleasure, a forbidden fruit, but they will never admit it just because they're afraid of being harassed and bullied and it's just sad how normalized it is to hurt actual people over shipping some mobile game characters, who are adults, doesn't have power imbalance between them and aren't related.

And allat coming from ME, who doesn't ship a single beast x ancient ship

It's sad lol. Sad for the Beast x Ancient community and honestly kind of pathetic for ardent detractors at this point. I've seen sooooo many Beast x Ancient fans get harassed and even sent death threats, it's not even funny (not that it ever was in the first place). Don't you have better things to do than get this mad about video games lol. Like a job or school or a hobby or something

You're right, the Ancients are not helpless widdle babies and I'm kind of sick of how often they're infantilized, in general and just for the sake of tearing down BxA. They're grown adults who are thousands of years old. Two of them are parents, whose children are grown adults themselves. 4 of 5 founded entire nations. 1 is an active ruler still (Cacao), one seeks to rule again (Golden). Let's not kid ourselves, they've probably all got blood on their hands (not to the degree the Beasts do, but still. You don't live that life without having to make tough choices). Stop treating them like porcelain dolls lol. Yes, the Beasts attacked them, but they're villains. That's what villains do. Go play Animal Crossing if you can't handle heroes and villains fighting each other lol

And then I get a laugh whenever those same people who screech about toxicity and abuse and yadda yadda turn around and ship H*llyt*ya or Sh*dowSp*ce. The former is BxA in a different costume. The latter... Man. You know. Because TWO deranged maniacs, who are fundamentally incompatible in every way and do not make sense at all and absolutely would hurt each other and bring each other down I hate that ship so damn much. Do not ask me abt it I WILL ramble and nobody needs that. Zero beef with fans though, we're coolio! Just a difference of opinion!, is such a better option, isn't it lol. Hypocrisy.

I'm sure you noticed that ep 7 + 8 brought out a whole lot of new ShadowVanilla fans. I agree w/ you, I can feel that there are a fuckton of BxA fans lurking in the darkness, waiting for an excuse to poke their heads out (like 7 + 8 lol), only hiding because they don't want to attract lunatics. Even YOU sent this ask anonymously. Most of my inbox is stuff from anons, and I look at them all and wonder, "how many of you are just afraid of backlash for expressing any joy in BurningCheese or any of the other BxA pairs?" It's ok, guys. Don't listen to them. Be you. I'm being me right now, as cringy as I am. I am Extremely Normal about BurningCheese and I'm not ashamed :) they're video game characters at the end of the day, just have fun. Why can't we all just be bros, man, what does any of this matter

[athenanfaymont]

Damian Wayne’s Future: A Robin Ready to Break Free? 🦇

Spoilers ahead

[Andy Clarke and Cameron Stewart]

In the latest issue, Damian Wayne drops a bombshell: if he can solve the case on his own, he’s done being Robin🤯

And this isn’t just about the case at hand. This ties into earlier conversations with Talia, where Damian told her he was tired of following what the family wanted for him. And even with Bruce, he’s spoken about how he feels like he’s being controlled too much (maybe because Bruce never had anyone to guide him and now he’s overcompensating). Damian, in his rebellious brilliance, even mentioned that maybe—just maybe—he’d rather follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and become a doctor. 🩺

But we all know that Damian Wayne is never going to follow a conventional path, especially not one that involves stethoscopes and white coats. He’s far too driven, too relentless. Even if he succeeds in solving the case solo, he’s bound to stay in the world of superheroes—even if it’s on his own terms.

I’ll admit, though, I kind of wish we could see a new Wayne—not a superhero, but as a philanthropist who isn’t out saving Gotham every night. A Wayne who focuses on his family’s legacy without the mask, becoming a symbol of hope without the night-fight. 🌙

At the same time (and on the contrary), I would love to see a vegan Batman 🥑 (if in the future they decide to retire Bruce and Damian inherits), which would absolutely rock the foundations of the Batman mythos, especially considering how many still see him as the epitome of conservative American values. Batman has always been a symbol for marginalized groups, often ahead of his time in representing the "woke" movement. What if Bruce forced them to challenge those social constructs? It would be very interesting on a comic/book level and a social level.

I mean… the whole sex-affective thing can be "ignored" as "it's trendy", but has anyone read the comics and not fully understood AND RESPECTED Damian's entire vegan arc? What if Damian is Batman now? Being vegan is a central part of him, and Batman is a big guy, not some smart-aleck Lisa Simpson (the only other vegan reference of such reach inside and outside the US). Seriously, that would be very curious (and would open the can of worms as to why Clark keeps eating meat 😤 WHEN HE DOESN'T NEED TO EAT).

Still, I digress. Damian’s departure from Robin has a much deeper significance for Bruce. This isn’t the first time he’s heard a Robin tell him they want to go their own way. Dick Grayson did the same years ago, and that was a painful blow for Bruce, even more than he lets on. When Dick left, Bruce had to confront the truth: his greatest creation, his son, no longer needed him as a mentor. 😔

The way Damian wants to carve out his future—free from Bruce's overbearing influence, and potentially even choosing a path that has nothing to do with Gotham or the cape—is as much a sign of growth as it is rebellion. He’s finally coming into his own, and it’s going to be a painful process for Bruce 😔. And it's curious that he takes this chapter as Dick did, since he was built as Robin under Dick's wing, not Bruce's. This brings Damian and Dick (our double D) closer together compared to the other two Robins, who didn't abandon the mantle, but rather, the Robin mantle was taken from them (from Jason by his death and from Tim by Bruce's replacement with Dick and then the arrival of Damian).

Damian's journey isn't just about the Robin mantle. It’s about self-identity and finding a place where he can define his legacy without living in the shadows of the Bat. Can Bruce let him go? Has he learned from his history with Dick? 🤔

What do you think? Is Damian ready to leave the Bat behind? Is it bravado???

But, most importantly: will DC dare to leave Batman without Robin for a long period? Will a new Robin appear? Will we see the re-emergence of Tim (a character totally forgotten by the publisher)? And, most importantly, is this in some way the prelude to the resurrection of Alfred?

[numberonetacostan]

Me and my friends joke about this all the time, like, if the II contestants aren't immortal anymore, there are a few people on the list who need constant care to not die. First, obviously, Balloon. He can so easily be popped. It seems like most people have gotten over his season 1 attitude, so I don't think anyone would do it on purpose. But all it takes is someone to be a little too forgetful or careless, and he's gone forever. Two, OJ. He can shatter from stress. And he's glass, so I imagine he's pretty fragile. Three, taco. Oh, she's dead so fast, I fear. She's one anxiety attack away. I feel like now that she knows she can die from stress, she'd be a lot more willing to go and look for help if she feels stressed or scared, against her pride. Four, Test Tube. I think it's more likely that she has some sort of reinforced glass, though, considering she holds literal acid. And oh my god lightbulb. She shatters SO MANY times. All it takes is for someone to not look where they're throwing things for her glass to shatter. As a more minor one, Box seems very accident-prone. She keeps getting caught in water and falling down high places; I seriously doubt it won't happen again.

(this is assuming what ever the Prime Shimmers gave them ISN'T a recovery center. I know that's a pretty popular theory)

Hi Moldy!!^^ Welcome back, and thank you for sending in an ask!! :]

Yeah some of the contestants are kind of fucked? Like when Suitcase was telling Balloon that they weren't helpless, I was sitting in the cinema like "I love your girlboss attitude and confidence but he is a balloon" and then I cried some more but that's not relevant to this ask.

But speaking of Balloon!!! He can never go outside again. I have a Balloon that's months old, but that is because it has been in a closet for months. Balloon will have to go back in the closet to survive :( </3. But yeah!!! He's so very vulnerable to literally everything.

I'm putting OJ and Taco in the same spot here, because I'd (in a biased manner, of course) argue that they're the two in some of the most danger because they don't really need anything external to die!! If they spiral too hard, it's over for those gay bitches!! Balloon could at least stay nice and safe in a closet, but at literally any moment OJ or Taco could just fucking snap. At least OJ has his boyfriend, Mepad just fucking died. Taco has earned a couple crash outs after all the bullshit she's been through, I just hope they're not fatal for her.

Testy, I think will be okay, since whatever she's made up is strong enough to hold whatever wacky science liquid is in her, like you said. And she can probably invent something to keep her glass from cracking. Maybe OJ could even get in on that action too!!

Lightbulb... oh dear sweet lightbulb... yeah she's definitely at risk too. Though Painty would certainly be keeping a very close eye on her after having watched her die and all that. Lightbulb is well protected!! And since she's made of glass, Testy could help reinforce her too :)

We have already seen Box eat shit time and time again both alive and as a corpse. She is so accident prone and must avoid all bodies of water and steep hills at all costs. Though, with all that's happened I'm sure she'll be very careful.

(As for what the Shimmers gave them!! Yeah, it could be a recovery center, but as for my thoughts at least, that seems a bit... boring? Obvious, maybe? The crew has mentioned that they're probably not gonna bring Mepad back because it would take away from the emotion and depth of his original sacrifice, and it feels like it would be a similar case for the Shimmer machine. Yeah, it could be a recovery center, and it's not as though I'll be disappointed if it is, but it would negate some of the depth of the sacrifice Mephone4 and the contestants made, yeah?)