#first being their difference in eloquence/formality

[gin-juice-tonic]

Hi! I really love your comics and the 80s ford sim! The time you took to make it is amazing and I like reading the dialogue you post :D I love seeing transfalls comics and just, the dialogue and scenarios are a comforting and funny read!

I was wondering if you have any advice or tips on how to write Ford? Have a wonderful day!

Hello, thank you for the nice words. I'm happy you like my things.

Instead of telling you my own beliefs about how Ford acts/talks specifically, I thought maybe I could break this advice down into something more general. At least to start. Writing for a pre-existing character to me is generally broken up into two big things: Their Personality Traits and their Manner of Speech.

When you are trying to figure out how to write someone, I think it would be helpful to think about things that really stand out in your memory that they either did or said, and then try to find commonalities between those things. And what they have in common may indicate a character trait or the way they talk.

If we were to use Ford as an example, some things I think of when I think of him are (under the cut):

The grin on his face when describing his very illegal infinity-sided die in DDmD, His "My face is on fire!" stunt from vs the Future, and his re-arranging of Fiddlefords cube in J3.

If we were to look at what these moments have in common, I would say they indicate Ford is a bit mischievous.

Another set: his "Princess Unattainabelle beckons you" from DDmD, his "Say Hop! It helps!" and "Your turn!" after using his magnet gun in vs the Future, and his general love of puns in the Journal.

I think these are all good examples of Ford's goofier side. That he's a playful guy.

Those would fall under the Character Traits half of writing him.

For the Manner of Speech bit, it helps to look at how certain lines are structured, or the context under which he says them. These examples will be a little longer due to being a whole line written out...

Set #1:

"On the dark, weird road I travel, I'm afraid you cannot follow. ...Welp! call me for dinner!" From DDmD

"If I rolled it, anything could happen. Our faces could melt into jelly. The world could turn into an egg! ...Or you could just roll an 8. Who knows." Also from DDmD

"So this is how the world ends, not with a Bang, but with a Boop-Boop." From Weird Part 1

All three of these lines have Ford speak in a manner that gives the feeling he is talking about something of some importance/seriousness. Only for him to end his line with something silly and tone breaking. He does this pretty often I feel. Or at least I'm guilty of overusing it, because I always find it funny lol.

Set #2:

"I like this kid! She's weird!" From Tale of Two Stans

"Your math is no match for my gun, you idiot!" From DDmD

"I can assure you if there's an owl in this bag he's long dead." From Last Mabelcorn

There's three different moods going on in these lines, happy, mad, and just kinda neutral. But personally I find them all to be instances of Ford speaking in a very frank manner.

Now, further context in this case is I think important here. This is sort of in a way a variation of the first set I mentioned, because outside of these lines Ford spends a lot of his dialogue speaking in a more formal, intellectual/eloquent way. So this is sort of another way he breaks his own tone.

Another notable piece of context about these three lines is they're all reactions to something said/done by someone else. (The first and third are after talking to Mabel, the second being a reaction to a threat from Probabilitor.)

So to put that all together, you get "Breaking his standard manner of speech, Ford (sometimes) reacts in a frank manner to other characters." Generally this happens as a joke.

So those are some examples. Of both the character trait thing and the speech pattern stuff. I did them as sets, but if an individual line or action feels prominent enough, you could analyze it by itself too.

Obviously there's a lot about Ford that this doesn't encompass, but I hope the method helps you think about how to portray what YOU see in Ford. And you do not have to follow the way I view him. "What lines/things stand out to you" is going to be different for person to person. Maybe you have other lines/ideas you find more defining for him, or maybe even viewing the same lines/ideas, you have different feelings of what they indicate. That's okay too.

[nonverbalnaji]

My Jayvik Regency/Bridgerton AU meets A/B/O fic with the Language of Flowers

I've wanted to write an A/B/O fic for a while, but wanted something else to mix in with it when I was thinking about how Silco would suit a Regency era AU. Then like in the first season/book of Bridgerton, I can see Jayce and Viktor entering a fake relationship and shenanagins ensue! I really like the Language of Flowers and found in a book by Henrietta Dumont that there's a flower associated with each day of the year! While there's no official birthday for the Arcane characters, people have used their champion release dates and using that, there's some *interesting* associations... So this is a breakdown of some research I've done for this fic so far :)

Story Premise (may be tweaked in future)

Viktor is debuting among the first of attendants from Zaun to Piltover's social season, despite being an eligible omega he just wants to avoid causing a scandal and make a good first impression for the sake of his siblings.

Jayce is a known playboy and his mother has insisted he try again because as the heir to House Talis, he will either find a partner or one will be arranged. He'll attend to keep an eye out for his siblings of course, as well as the intriging Zaunites.

A/B/O Dynamics meets Regency Era

When you go to read an A/B/O fic, there's certain expectations going in for how the world works - positions in society and the flaws of it, and then the intimte angles of heats, ruts, suppressants, etc.

I decided to have a debutante ball and social season not be solely focused on omegas, that there would be pressure for alphas too, and betas often get forgotten or brushed aside a lot so I decided to go with a different take for them - flexible fertility. In a different way to how I've gone about it in my mermaid au, betas in my fic strike a balance between the extremes of alphas and omegas, and may adapt based on who their partner is which brings about some implications about betas in high society.

Furthermore, I wanted to highlight the Piltover and Zaun tension in setting this fic post-alliance to add another layer of tension about the first debutante ball that will be shared between both cities. So as I go over the characters below, I'll note how their birthday flowers has either fit really well for their character or given me inspiration for where to take their character arc, as well as what secondary gender they'll have.

ALSO! Debuting age for this fic is 21, I will add ages with the characters too but wanted to make it clear.

The Language of Flowers and Birthdays

Caitlyn Kiramman - Beta (21)

January 4th - Hazel, Corylus avellana

Stands for Peace and Reconcilliation. This really solidified having Cait as a beta for my fic, as the heir of a great house, whom she marries will be a big deal and so there's a struggle between duty and feelings there for her, expectations and desires.

Vander Lane - Beta (40+)

February 21st - Crocus, white, Crocus albus

Meanings include Youth, Love, abuse not, health and fertility impatience, youthful joy, hope, and friendship in adversity. I went with Warwick's release date for Vander's birthday when I saw the meaning behind this flower too. While the main relationship of this fic will be Jayce x Viktor, there's a second chance romance between Vander and Silco.

Corin Reveck (Singed) - Alpha (50+)

April 18th - Narcissus, Narcissus moschatus

Self-love, egotism, and formality? Honestly perfect for the personality of Orianna's father in this fic.

Ekko Young - Alpha (20)

May 28th - Iris, Iris lurida

Meanings include: Eloquence, good news, light; faith, valor, wisdom, friendship; a message. This feels appropriate for Ekko. (Yes using street names for last names, wasn't sure what to use and using 'Firelight' didn't feel right).

Orianna Reveck - Omega (21)

June 1st - Rose, yellow, Rosa lutea

Friendship, joy, gladness; apology, intense emotion, undying love; extreme betrayal, a broken heart, infidelity, jealousy; Aromanticism. Okay so here me out... I'm thinking that Orianna is a bit sickly, and has pressure from her father to marry well, or at least in a way that will benefit his research pursuits. However, Orianna is aro-ace and isn't interested in the politics of all of this, to be honest, she just wants to find someone who will be a friend to her if she must marry.

Jayce Talis - Alpha (24)

July 7th - Nasturtium, Tropæolum majus

Stands for Patriotism, conquest, victory in battle; heroism. Now don't get me wrong, I *love* Omega!Jayce and Alpha!Viktor fics (as well as AlphaxAlpha) but when I saw the meanings for this and Viktor's flower I was getting some ideas for ways that they would clash and spark. While he is a bit of a rake, Jayce has a strong sense of protecting his family.

Powder (Jinx) Lane - Omega (19)

October 10th - Aletris, Cape waved-leafed, Aletris viridifolia

Try as I might, I cannot find a meaning for this flower. It has a few different names too like Unicorn Root and Crow Corn. It definitely speaks to her uniqueness I think.

Vi (Violet) Lane - Alpha (22)

December 19th - Heath, two-coloured, Erica bicolor

Heath stands for solitude but additional colours have more meanings, and this particular strain has a purple-tone which can indicate beauty and admiration. Since Violet is a flower too, it can represent 'modest worth' and is also a sapphic symbol.

Viktor Lane - Omega (25)

December 29th - Heath, Erica genistopha

While it wasn't specificed, after comparing it to the other entries for Heath I went with this one being white because the additional meanings for it are Protection and Wishes Will Come True which had me leaning towards Viktor being an Omega and while there's a similar pressure of duty and protecting his younger siblings, he also has his own wishes that he keeps close to his chest.

Some characters didn't have birthdays though, so here's their flowers and notes as well because you might notice something interesting with the last names...

Mylo Lane - Alpha (20)

May 23rd - Lilac, Springa vulgaris

First Emotions of Love. This one stood out to me for the purple hue of the flower (suiting with his older sister) as well as how Mylo is a bit bumbling when it comes to making approaches (like in ep. 7).

Claggor Talis - Omega (21)

February 2nd - Snow-drop, Galanthus nivalis

Symbolizing Hope, Claggor is hopeful going into this years social season since his older brother will be supporting him too. Yes leaning on *that look* Claggor had for Mylo in ep 7 as I had always assumed that they weren't related by blood anyway. I also thought giving Jayce another sibling along with them growing up with Caitlyn could be interesting.

Silco Glasc - Omega (40+)

June 27th - St. John’s Wort, perforated, Hypericum perforatum

HEAR ME OUT. Firstly, this flower stands for superstition but I've heard it be associated with anti-depressants. Secondly, yes, you read that last name correctly, like I said, this is a second chance romance between Silco and Vander, you shall see~

Edit to add: BECAUSE I FORGOT OOPS, I have started this fic!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63647665

Althea stands for Consumed by Love and Fir stands for Time, make of that what you will :3

[avelera]

idk how to explain this but jayvik is giving the same vibes as dreamling. i just can't prove it.

Serious answer, they do match some of the Red Oni/Blue Oni tropes that are very popular with a lot of slash ships, including Hob/Dream, Jayce/Viktor, Newt/Hermann, and Kirk/Spock, where one is more passionate and governed by emotion and one is more remote and intellectual.

It's also very common for such ships to have physical characteristics that match these personality characteristics, like the "Red" Oni figure being physically larger, broader, and more imposing with a body that runs hot, with the "Blue" Oni figure being lean, pale, and cerebral with a body that runs cold (as we have seen over and over and over with these style of ships where one is presumed to "run hot" and the other is always cold, yes I am guilty of writing this too, it's a fun trope).

(Fandoms often tend to exaggerate these differences even further, make the height differences even more pronounced, the Red figure bigger, the Blue figure even more waifish, and often throw in a Masculine/Feminine angle to the differences which further remove the characters from their canon selves, but that is a raging pet peeve of mine for another day.)

But I would say, unique to Jayvik and Dreamling's similarities are things like Viktor ascending to become an Endless, Dream-like figure, able to touch the consciousnesses of uncountable lives, and in doing so becoming a solitary figure that only one person seems to be able to reach in his loneliness. And there is a similarity between Hob and Jayce with them being the more passionate, loud person of the two, who seems more grounded in the "physical" world and its pleasures.

Certainly when I write Jayce and Viktor I have to be careful not to dip too much into mannerisms and tropes I've been writing recently for Hob and Dream. For example, Jayce speaks informally about 80% of the time (and with poetic eloquence about 5-10% of the time, usually when talking about magic or higher concepts like morality), but he doesn't use the bloke-y British slang terms I ascribe to Hob. And Viktor speaks informally about 60% of the time, but he's not nearly so rigidly formal in his diction as Dream often is, and he sometimes uses English as a second language grammar, rather than purely formal grammar.

(I also borrow elements for writing them from my time writing Newt and Hermann for Pacific Rim, but that's mostly things like awareness around Viktor's disability, first practiced while writing Hermann, and the analytical way Newt and Hermann both talk applies to Jayce and Viktor as scientists first and foremost, but Jayvik lacks the Newmann bickering and they are actually very affectionate and in sync with each other from the start. It's been very rewarding to pull from some other ships I have more experience with to write Jayce and Viktor, and this ask gave me the chance to ramble about it a bit lol so sorry about the tangent).

But yeah I do think there's similarities, you're not imagining things. But personally I find the places where they are different from other Red Oni/Blue Oni style ships to be the most interesting parts about them.

[vaguely-concerned]

I've been giving some thought to why the device of colt's inner dialogue literally being written out across the environment works so well for me, and indeed why the mechanic of the heart in dishonored gives me the same satisfaction and seems to lend so much life and depth to the setting and characters when consulted. and I just had a flash of insight that duh. it's because it's written and structured like poetry haha. both these narrative devices have elements of poetry to them. shorter and more deliberate, more evocative, densely packed with meaning pieces of language, to contrast with the dialogue writing and all the various voices of the in-universe documents you find. turn the heart on a person in dishonored and you learn some vivid poignant details about them that shape your understanding of and feelings towards them. look at colt's train of thought scrawled all over the island, and you learn stuff both about the island and most importantly about him and his emotional landscape. and the effects of that are manifold.

for one it's able to deliver such subtlety of characterization when compared to the spoken lines. when we get to hear colt speak out loud, his register is mostly colloquial and straightforward, a little awkward/bumbling sometimes, even, when he's in situations he's not comfortable with (he's not a man for speeches <3). he's eloquent and incredibly funny in an off-handed blunt sort of way, with some growing palpable eccentricity thrown in as the loops go on (affectionate). however his internal dialogue (which as I understand really is kind of a dialogue and not a monologue except well. in the inevitable sense, because in the game files there are several distinct 'voices' from different loop versions of colt in there with their own affects) lends us insight into a different expressive side to him: his inner voice is sharp and consise, guarded, sardonic, sometimes verges on manic, shows off depths of insight and aptness of analysis of the people around him that belie his 'but just shooting a bunch of people is so FUN tho :'(' surface funnyman vibe. it's frequently more overtly threatening bordering on ominous than his light-hearted game of escalating death threats with julianna (awww bonding time <3<3<3). most of all it goes to some much darker emotional places than the stuff he seems willing to speak out loud. (there's one on fristad rock on the way to fia's bunker that seems to be about being stuck in substance abuse that has me like '...oh colt' every time.) it has the same lack of formality as his speaking voice -- all lower case, little punctuation, mostly very snappy and to the point language/vocabulary. some of it is observations like someone idly talking to themselves or quips there's no one else to respond to, some is pragmatic tactical consideration, some is pep talk, another genre (the most violent ones, often) read kind of like intrusive thoughts. you'd barely know what he really thinks of these people if not for this device.

ALSO it tells us without having to tell us that colt's amnesia isn't quite as complete as it first seems; he does have these fleeting impressions, emotional impulses and half-rememberances that linger on in the back of his mind, even if he doesn't know his own damn name right now haha. muscle memory of the soul to match the muscle memory of the trigger finger, if you will. also also. the diegetic feeling between the player and him in returning to some text you've seen before with new context and suddenly having that '...ah. so that's what that's about'. we both clearly see what you're thinking but we don't know why or what it means and you wont tell us (you won't tell yourself). sooooo crunchy. many thinky thoughts in my head. time making a stranger of yourself but that stranger keeps hanging out in your living room providing running commentary. damn.

and in some ways I think the twist on the heart concept from dishonored in having the poetry (AND genuinely useful gameplay tips! multifunctional. elegant. a very pleasing font too) be an inextricable part of the art direction and field of vision the whole way through that deathloop is pulling is vastly even more original, effective and fascinating, I've never seen a game quite do this before. it changes something to have these words actually visually, physically placed and embedded into the environment itself. we not only see snatches of what colt is thinking, we crucially see where he's thinking it, at what pace, where he's placing the inner landscape in the outer landscape and perhaps what he associates with each other -- we can use where and when the text pops up as additional context to read into the meaning of the words themselves. some text even gets some animation, flickers in a specific way to suggest excitement/agitation/intensity or anxiety!!! a whole game kinetic typography experience that is functional and stylish, who else is doing it like this!!

my favourite version of this may (predictably) be the remembered homoerotic guitar lesson in frank's club -- the way it unfolds through the room and into the next corridor unhurriedly, dwellingly, which gives it a dreamy, almost absent-minded feeling. the sense of being lost in a memory, how the way you traverse the room decides the pacing of what you're reading. how big and unavoidable the text is on the screen, telling you how much the recollection is occupying colt's mind in that moment. even if you ignore it and look around at other things, it stays there hovering in your peripheral vision. idk how they did this with just text, but it feels breathy and intimate in how it unfolds. taken together with all the other thoughts/messages scattered around the club -- angry, resentful, longing, wistful, fretful, sad, bitter, whatever unparalleled shrimp emotion just ...frank... hovering over where the guy himself is on the other side of a wall evokes in me -- it builds such an emotionally rich impression of what's gone down here and how colt feels about this place (and guy), even though we've barely learned a clear detail of the actual circumstances of the relationship or what lead to the break, and had nary a spoken voice line from colt to guide us. we don't get to know exactly what happened, but we sure do get to know how colt feels about it (a lot of very complicated things all at the same time, as it turns out). which again shows that emotional memory lingers longer and looms larger than factual memory here. a whole-level poem greater than the sum of its parts!! and so much of the game's narrative works like that and I LOVE it I love it so much I want to eat it why isn't everyone talking about this all the time now this is some fucking design!!!!!!!!!

like how often in a game do you literally walk through a poem and thus become part of how it's expressed???? (even more so, when did you last walk through a tender poem that's barely even subtextually about learning to give a gay handjob (to join the bitter breakup poem about even more barely subtextual gay blowjobs) lmao I love this game)? again, I've never seen a game do something quite this before, certainly not so skillfully nor consistently. I'm studying it with my little magnifying glass and a heart full of wonder

[haru-kuneko]

I will be reposting this recent art I've made so more people can see it. Despite this being a quick, rough drawing, I am still somehow proud of it. One of the things I enjoy is being able to draw what I like. This was inspired by the movie "Radio Rebel." I just changed it to Radio Rabbit which is fitting to this crazy bunny.

If he were to be able to brainwash the humans to joining his cult and turn them into demons, you would be left with half of the world population speaking in a freakin' British accent and chanting his name which makes him stronger upon listening to him (similar to Ember McLain from "Danny Phantom").

The problem is they wouldn't be able to swear. They'd be talking in the same manner as Rabbit who is very eloquent and formal. Try saying the f-word and you'd end up stuttering. You can't even do the middle finger (your hand automatically raises the index finger) or anything crass.

The difference is that Rabbit would never come up to a crowd and expose himself. In this version, you only hear his voice hence making it difficult to actually track him down.

P.S. To anyone asking if I take commissions, make sure you're a legit person and your profile contains enough information telling me what company, origin and the kind of services you offer complete with contact info. I don't use PayPal due to safety reasons.For example, [First name/Last name] from the Penguin House Department in Australia looking for a book cover artist who can do a vector-esque art style. I wanna know who you really are and if you got any references. Don't just say you wanna hire me or I'll block you. Also, if you wish to share my art, please give credit. DO NOT REUPLOAD!

[altocat]

Love your First soldier trio au. Imagine adult seph being a big baby around them

Sephiroth is in the middle of giving a formal speech to his men, completely eloquent and composed like usual, totally controlled and stoic.

......only to catch sight of Glenn from across the room and instantly barrelling over half the cadets trying to get to him. He doesn't even notice that he's trampled like eight different people, grinning like an idiot, towering over Glenn looking pleased as punch just to see him again.

[gremlinshatephilosophers]

Sorry for the long messy ramble on my memories of when BIG came out six years ago (and also how is 2019 six years ago already time isn’t real):

It’s funny how when BIG came out I felt like I’d already been out for such a long time despite my 16-year-old self having lived a mere fraction of the life experiences of the world around me. Three years felt like so long then, and the six years since have flown by like nothing.

I remember seeing Dan’s name trending when I opened twitter, and immediately closing the app and staying offline until that night when I could watch the video in full, staying up until 2am rewatching his channel. I was so proud of Dan for posting that video, and I remember at that time feeling like there were two completely different worlds going on around me. I remember blocking several people I knew for being weird about it, saying that they knew or that it didn’t matter. Because at that time it felt like there’d been such a huge wave of coming out videos from 2014-2016 that certain folks who’d been privileged to be “out” for more or less their entire lives couldn’t fathom the need for a long video or how it could still be terrifying to come out in their already rainbow-tinted world. It was 2019, the world was “progressive” and “accepting.”

And while that was the experience I was living in (and very privileged to be) that I felt so confident to speak out and rainbow it up and never really had to formally “come out,” a big part of the reason I was so happy to see that video (besides it being a well crafted and very personal video that so many people have praised more eloquently than I could) was for all the folks I knew who were stuck on the other side of it.

What those few people didn’t see were the dozens of people in their own community who were being harassed by their families and would be disowned, who had to hear their deadnames yelled across the stage because their parents were watching, who were being shielded by their friends in the locker rooms in gym class, who wanted to attend pride but could never find a secret way out of the house. We didn’t live in a right-wing conservative area, but local voting records don’t show the full picture of everyone’s individual reality.

Even for people I knew closely who weren’t facing those obstacles who had accepting families and friends, that still didn’t mean that it was “over.” Of my five closest high school friends senior year, one of them was out in 2019. Three have come out since.

I guess that’s all to say my experience was so damn lucky and that nothing stays the same forever, you can grow and change and so do the people around you. The know-it-all 16-year-old me who first watched BIG who didn’t “need” representation and thought that they were done coming out still didn’t understand why they resonated with the “formless blob” line so much and wouldn’t for another several years. Your labels can change or you can ignore the concept of labels altogether, you can “come out” formally or you can wait until you feel safe or you can slowly decorate everything you own in suspicious amounts of rainbow without ever verbally confirming a single thing. You can come out at 13 or at 23 or at 63 or 83 - and it’s okay to not know everything.

And I’m pissed that stupid “culture war” bullshit has set progress back to the point where someone graduating from the same high school this week that I did six years ago might not feel as comfortable as I once did to paint their graduation cap into a rainbow flag or have a pride-themed pep rally or go to their homecoming dance with someone their same gender. I’m mad for all the people I knew who couldn’t come out in high school or college, and I’m mad for the people today who want to but still can’t.

And i also think about all the folks who’ve come out after then despite the world being more closed minded in some places, and the folks who’ve come out later because they just needed time to learn themselves because your identity doesn’t follow the whims of what’s viral on the algorithm. I think about the people who came across a coming out video and finally heard the acceptance they needed. And I’m so fucking happy for them.

Dan made a damn good video and I’ve watched it too many times to count. And I’m proud of him, proud of yall, and proud of the community as a whole.

[angrennufuin]

Elflinguistics Part 2: Ravnica

For the currently-paused Ravnica campaign, I'm playing Sûl the elven bard-warlock, currently a courtesan but formerly a noble. Mainly I wanted my Ravnica names to sound different from my Eberron names; these are different settings and vastly different people-groups. Let's, once again, get into it.

Rules for myself

Ravnica is a planet that is all one giant city, but some parts of it are currently less-inhabited and more ruined than others. Sûl's family hails from part of this Rubblebelt; while Linmir's clan is a diaspora of middle-class tradesmen and occasionally warriors, Sûl comes from a stuffy, dissipated high-elf aristocracy clinging onto their former glory.

So the idea here is still poetic eloquence, but where Eberron elves make portmanteaus with layered meaning, Ravnica elves go big or go home. Long names are in vogue, and often include hyphens and/or prepositions. They also have multiple names/forms of names for different levels of connection!

Long, formal name used by strangers + acquaintances

A shortened (usually single-word) form of that name used by friends and family

An entirely different "private name" known only to parents and really serious lovers

Formal names

These are used by strangers and acquaintances, in formal settings (which are most settings, for Sûl's family). Elves have long lives and long memories, and it's considered slightly disrespectful/kind of bad luck to name your child entirely after someone else, whether deceased or living. They can get away with this because there are not, historically, that many elves, period, in Ravnica. There are even less in the Rubblebelt, the sparsely-inhabited area of ruins and urban decay that is home to this branch of crumbling elf aristocracy.

We're not using Sûl as the case study for any of these, for reasons I'll explain later. Instead, let's go with her oldest sister. Her long-form name is Elen-atto-vomentië (=meeting of two stars); short form would likely be Elen, as the first word in the name is most likely to be picked for casual usage. Elen (stars) is an extremely common Elvish name; other possibilities could have been Tië (path) or Vomen (to gather together).

Generally, children are allowed to choose the casual form of their name whenever they want to. Like being named Alexander and going by Alex, for example. Not a particularly weighty decision, and subject to change! The "don't name your kid after someone else" social norm only applies to the full formal name, but if you have like six people in your immediate family tree who shorten their name to Elen, it's considered quite gauche.

Intimate names:

The intimate name is a much bigger deal. Generally only a child and their parents know it & parents would never use it except alone with their kid in a moment of great emotion. Traditionally you'd tell your spouse at your wedding, but modern elves might tell it to a non-marital life partner or even a VERY best friend, if their bond is close enough. It's supposed to be something of a horoscope/prophecy/wish from the parent to the child. Elen's intimate name is Asya-Mekte (=to ease [one's] heart); her parents hoped she would be a kind and empathetic soul.

I cannot stress enough that you Do Not say this name except in private! Think like the True Name of a fairytale creature. There's a superstition that where you give your private name, you give your heart -- with the proper spells, some believe it can be used to control you. Is it true? Who knows! But certainly it would be extremely rude, having been given the honor of an elf’s intimate name, to use it where anyone not so chosen could hear.

[I think I was using an older form of Elvish for these? But I've forgotten entirely.]

Surnames:

Surnames are a lot easier to deal with, because they're just place names. This brand of elves is pretty traditional and keen on long history, so they generally go by whatever region/estate/geographical feature they consider their ancestral home. Sûl's family comes from a region and its corresponding manor called Haudh-en-Calen (= Green Hills/Green Barrows), so that's their last name. In the most formal settings you would stick a possessive from in there: Elen-atto-vomentië Haudh-en-Calenva. If one were inclined to make one's introduction more accessible to non-Elvish speakers (Elen is NOT inclined), one could call oneself Elen of the Green Hills. Or Two-Stars of the Green Hills, but that would be just too assimilationist.

This got long and has been languishing in my drafts for months, so you'll have to hear about Sûl's name another day.

[botanicadens]

 {OC template}

  [By- @thanathecreator ]

//This is so long but I have no regrets

               •Basic Information•

🔴Name- Wruth Edgar Den

🔴Age- 187 (October 13, 1837)

🔴Sexuality- Gay

🔴Gender- Cis Man

🔴Species- Human (Sorta Undead)

🔴From a Fandom?- DCU (Primarily Vertigo Comics)

🔴Zodiac sign- Libra

  •Physical appearance and traits •

🟠Hair color- Black

🟠Hair type and length- Shoulder Length, Wavy

🟠Eye color- Originally Blue, now a pale blue-gray

🟠Skin tone- Very Pale, Pallid

🟠Face shape- Sharp, Angular

🟠Body type- Thin, Practically a twig, Almost Malnourished Appearing, Almost Skeletal

🟠Scars- Surprisingly No

🟠Predominant features- High Cheekbones, Bluish tint to his lips, lack of color on his skin

🟠Height- 6’1”

🟠Dominant hand- Right Handed

🟠Hair Style- Scraggly, Slightly Unkempt

🟠Jewelry/ Accessories- Red Ascot (Fancy little bastard)

🟠Are they healthy or not? Reason why- Can an undead man be Healthy? No.

🟠Allergies- Not Really an Allergy but hates the smell of Lavender (Same dude)

🟠Glasses?- Yep, Square Framed Ones

🟠What do they wear when they are home alone?- Loose fitting shirt, Wide flared pants. He keeps fancy even in private.

🟠Tattoos- Does the sigil on his hand count? Kinda a scar, Kinda a tattoo.

                  •Mannerisms•

🟡Speech Style- Eloquent, Formal, British

🟡Quirks- Eccentric as hell, Only wears vintage clothing, Bounces his legs while sitting, Drinks tea religiously.

🟡Positive traits- Sly, Smart, Savvy, Articulate, Organized, Focused, Persuasive, Witty

🟡Negative traits- Misanthropic, Snarky, Cynical, Calculating, Fatalistic, Grim, Often Insincere

🟡Drives/Motivation- Wants to protect people from making stupid deals with demons, protect people from demons in general.

🟡Sense of Humor- Deadpan/Dry Humor

🟡Private or Public?- Very Private

🟡Leader or Follower?- Follower

🟡Daredevil or cautious?- Cautious

🟡Optimistic/ Pessimistic/ realistic?- Pessimistic

🟡Speaker or Listener?- Listener but can very well be a speaker.

🟡Accent- British (Point and Laugh at him)

🟡Voice Claims- Prince Lotor from Voltron Legendary Defenders (A.J. LoCascio)

🟡Theme Song(s)- 9 to 5 (Dolly Parton), No Children (The Mountain Goats), Under My Skin (Jukebox the Ghost)

🟡Temperament- Melancholic

🟡Talents- Can read books fairly fast, a great organizer, amazing at remembering

🟡Flaws- Perfectionist, A little too nosy, Cynical and Misanthropic

🟡Loud or quiet?- Quiet

🟡messy or organized?- Organized

🟡solo or team player?- Solo

🟡introvert or extrovert?- Ambivert

🟡relaxed or serious?- Serious with Work, Relaxed around Friends

🟡What will always make them cry?- Cats. He will cry if he sees them hurt even if it's minor.

🟡Do they celebrate their birthday?- He hasn't celebrated one since he turned 22. He finds them awkward nowadays.

🟡What will make them Smile?- Once again Cats. He loves them so much, it's the easiest way to make him smile. Making him Tea or asking about historical texts will also make him happy and get him to smile.

                  •Background•

🟢Hometown- Huddersfield, West Yorkshire, England

🟢Social Class- Middle almost Lower Class

🟢Education- Man was born in the 1800s to an almost lower class family. He has no formal education

🟢First memory- ~3, Seeing his baby brother for the first time.

🟢Worst memory- 22, Sitting in his bed for days on end and barely being able to sit up to see his mother.

🟢Best memory- ~8, Helping his elder brother and mother cook. It reminds him of a simpler time in his life.

🟢Most important childhood event, why?- His older brother taking a young him through the forest and teaching him about different plants. It inspired Wruth’s love of plants and knowledge on different herbs and plants.

🟢Most influenced by- His Mother, Clara. He loved her with all his heart.

🟢Role models- His mother and Elder brother, Felix

🟢Where does the character live? And with who if they live with someone- He lives above his shop Botánica Den’s in London. He only lives with his pet cat Bastet.

🟢Do they want to move and where?- If he had to move, He'd probably go to live in Los Angeles, but he’s happy living in London

🟢Type of childhood- Decent, he definitely has some issues because of it, But it was mostly good.

🟢Upbringing- It was a long time ago so things have definitely changed in regards to parenting in modern day. His father was never really involved in his upbringing, it was entirely his brother and mother. He eventually was also expected to care for his younger brother too. He and his brothers were allowed to do almost anything and get away scot free.

🟢Best Qualification- Organization. He’s a little psycho about being organized,

🟢Most important person in their life and why?- His Mother or his younger brother, Alexander. He loves Felix, but he could handle himself. He’d protect Clara or Alexander with his life.

🟢House environment- His home is perfect for him. Tons of books, Places to lounge, He even has a small indoor garden.

🟢Childhood crush- His childhood friend, Percival. He lived a little ways away, but they'd often run off into the woods for the entire day just to hang out.

                        •Family•

🔵Mother- Clara Den, an absolute saint in his eyes. She loved him and cared for him dearly.

🔵Father- Robert Den, they had a strained relationship. Wruth didn’t see him often as his dad wasn’t very involved in raising him or his siblings.

🔵Siblings- His elder brother Felix and his younger brother Alexander. He cared for both of them and helped raise Alexander. He wished he was there longer for them.

🔵Relationship with family?- He tries to visit their graves at least once a year to bring flowers. He also speaks to the graves to tell them what he’d done since last visiting. He hopes they can hear what he’s saying.

🔵Any children? Do they want any?- Can he even have kids? Idk, but no. He doesn’t want them nor have any.

🔵Pets- His skeletal cat, Bastet

🔵Extended Family- He doesn’t know if any descendants of his family exist. He'd be scared to interact with them if he did find any.

🔵Close to family?- Was close to his brothers and mother, not very close to his father.

   •Favorites and Least Favorites•

🟣Favorite Movie- M (A 1931 Black and White Thriller)

🟣Least Favorite Movie- Literally any Twilight Movie (He watched one on accident and hated it.)

🟣Favorite Book- House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

🟣Least Favorite Book- Not a specific book, but Romance books in general. (They’re just not his cup of tea

🟣Favorite Holiday- Halloween! He can go outside and be perceived as completely normal. People even compliment him on the day for how dead he looks.

🟣Least Favorite Holiday- Christmas. It's not bad in his opinion, just awkward for a man who was born right before it started being commercialized.

🟣Favorite Mythological creature- Vampires. In his experience they’re the least awful to deal with. They’re actually fairly chill (Probably because this man’s blood hasn’t been flowing since the 1860s)

🟣Least Favorite Mythological creature- Demons. Period. He wants to throw himself off the tallest building he can find after dealing with one.

              •Abilities and Bias’•

⚪️Affiliation- None. He works for himself, by himself.

⚪️Powers- Think of Rui from Demon Slayer. He can use string to cut people but he can also use it to control others like puppets. He also can’t die, but can still be injured and feel pain.

⚪️Powers limitations- It takes a lot of energy to control others and it can leave him incredibly exhausted.

⚪️Weaknesses- Physically Weak as hell. Bones would probably shatter if he tried to punch someone. He can feel his bones shifting back into place and healing when he’s injured. He feels all the pain associated with it and it can be brutal.

⚪️Allies- Most Magical People.

⚪️How well known are they?- Only really known with Magical Circles, he’s happy with it though.

⚪️Weapons- He only uses magic. (He’s a wet noodle, give him a break :[)

⚪️ Gadgets/ tech- He hates most modern technology. He only just got a smartphone. He still has his old antique phone too though.

⚪️Physical Weaknesses- Wet Noodle. He is skinny and weak. You could probably break his back by hugging him too hard.

⚪️Fears- Nosophobia (Illness/Disease), Autophobia (Alone/Abandoned)

⚪️Why do they do what they do?- He feels that if he doesn’t work, then him being alive for so long is pointless. He’s trying to outweigh his bad by his good.

⚪️Mental/Emotional weaknesses- His thoughts sometimes drown him. He lives with a lot of regrets so bringing any of them up is an emotional gut punch.

⚪️Rivals- Himself lmao

⚪️Romantic interest? Who if yes- Nope, Not yet!

                 •Miscellaneous•

⚫️If I could put them in a different universe or Fandom, which one?- Supernatural or Marvel.

⚫️What was there first kiss like? Have they have it yet?- It was with his childhood friend and crush. They were both teens and it was super awkward. He was nervous then, but looks back on it fondly.

⚫️Have they ever lost somebody they loved and who was it? How did it impact them?- His entire family and his childhood friend are dead. He isn’t surprised by death anymore but it still stings when it happens.

⚫️What would happen if they were granted 3 wishes?- 1) Reverse time back to when he was 22 2) Wish his family be happy and live long lives 3) Money for his family (He's so innocent about this OMG)

⚫️what quote do they feel portrays them?- “Why this is hell, nor am I out of it. Think'st thou that I, who saw the face of God and tasted the eternal joy of heaven, am not tormented with ten thousand hells in being deprived of everlasting bliss?” - Mephistopheles

⚫️Most prized possession and why is it prized?- A painting of his family that’s hidden away in his storage room. It’s one of the few things he has from his childhood and while he doesn’t enjoy looking at it constantly, it's still important to him.

⚫️Have they ever stolen anything? We’re they caught? Do they feel guilty or prideful?- He’s stolen before (probably when he was still mortal).He doesn't go out much anymore though, and doesn’t really need anything. Besides, he owns his own shop, he definitely has at least some money. He’d been caught a few times and always acted super guilty about it, but internally he was more annoyed at being caught or guilty.

⚫️What textures do they absolutely hate to feel?- Velvet. He physically recoils after touching it. It's a personal Hell for him.

⚫️How long can they go without showering? When do they feel dirty?- There’s always a slight smell of death on him, regardless of how much he showers. He does shower fairly consistently though, just for a sense of normality and routine for him.

⚫️Where do they put there clothes when there dirty?- He’s a bit of a neatfreak so they get folded and placed in a pile for cleaning.

⚫️Do they sleep with the bedroom door open or closed and why?- Closed. Always closed. He does not trust sleeping with his door open. (So real for that)

⚫️If they woke up with animalistic features such as ears and a tail( that were different from the ones they already had if they had any at all)how would they react?- Concern, first and foremost. After the shock wears off, he’d dive into research and try to figure out how it happened and how to reverse it.

⚫️If they could only eat one thing for 20 days, what would they eat?- Does Tea count? He doesn’t really eat, so tea would be his preferable option. Maybe macaroons or cinnamon cake if he had to pick an actual food.

⚫️do they re read books they already have?- Constantly, he’s the type to annotate his books in the margins, even during rereads. 

⚫️if they had the option to know when they would die, exact date, would they want to know or would they want to stay oblivious to it?- I mean, he already knows the answer. December 21, 1859.

⚫️What song would they listen to on repeat?- Piano Sonata No. 8 in C minor, Op 13 ("Pathétique"), 3rd Movement, Rondo: Allegro (He’s a classical music fan)

⚫️Do they believe in a form of a afterlife?- I mean, he’s dealt with demons before, so yeah.

⚫️Do they crack their joints?- He constantly cracks them, knuckles, elbows, neck, all of it.

⚫️Spicy, Savory, Sweet, Bitter, or Sour?- Bitter and Sweet. He likes bitter teas, but loves sweet foods to go along with it.

⚫️Do they adopt stray animals?- He doesn’t adopt any but if he finds an injured stray, he’ll take care of them before letting them go.

⚫️Do they procrastinate or do they get it done asap?- Depends on the thing. He procrastinates with social things but if it's solo he gets it done as soon as possible.

⚫️What is the temperature when they shower? Hot. Any normal person would probably be burnt because of it, but Wruth likes it (It’s a rare time when his body isn’t ice cold)

⚫️Do they daydream?- He isn’t the type to daydream, he prefers thinking about the present (or maybe the past)

⚫️ do they work best in messy or clean environment?- Clean Environment

⚫️ do they keep personal photos? Why?- Nope. He’s a tad insecure about his body and doesn’t enjoy being reminded of it. (He thinks worse of himself than he actually is.)

⚫️Do they indulge in anything?- Tea, once again. He’s an addict.

⚫️ would they do the exact opposite that someone says to them just to spite them?- Yes. cough cough His Benefactor cough cough

⚫️ if they’re alone and they hear a noise would they go check it out or would they hide? Why?- He can’t really die so he'd investigate it. (He also knows enough people who’d probably break through his window if they really needed help)

⚫️ if they’re lost what is the first thing they do?- Panic. Panic first, then think.

⚫️ what is a dream they had that was terrifying and made no sense too them? Any dream about his Benefactor scares him. (He won’t admit it, but it absolutely does)

⚫️ what is the stupidest thing they have ever done because someone said not to do it?- He once threw a book into his fireplace to spite a certain someone. (Once again, his benefactor.)

⚫️ are they stoic or melodramatic about being injured?- The only real problem about being injured for him is the pain. He’s melodramatic about the pain (he likes screwing with people about it) but relatively stoic about the injury itself.

————————————————————

Short run down of their storyline-

When Wruth was 21, he contracted an illness and became deathly ill. Slowly, he barely became able to get out of bed or even walk. During the time, he spent every waking moment he had researching a way to heal himself with little luck. He eventually found books involving the supernatural during his studying.

So uhhh, the dumbass decided to summon a demon. (He was desperate, sound judgment isn’t made when desperate). The demon told him it would “cure” him in return for his loyalty. In his naïvete, he accepted. The problem was that the demon sort of lied about the deal. The demon’s idea of a cure was keeping Wruth trapped in time making it so he could never die and permanently remain loyal to him. If Wruth were to break his deal, he would proceed to become untrapped in time and shortly after die due to his illness (His illness was never cured, just paused)

He started his shop to help out others who deal with the supernatural (and possibly prevent others from making the same mistake he did) He sees it as a redemption from the things he’s done under his benefactor’s (as he calls him) orders. He’s still under contract and occasionally is forced to provide his end to the deal as ordered. Wruth hates that part of his life and tries to keep it as underwraps as possible. (He’ll deny its existence if ever brought up. You’d have to fight him to admit it.)

[maiega]

Understanding Arabic Cases الإعراب

Arabic grammar is rich and complex, and one of its defining features is the system of Arabic cases الإعراب. This system is essential for understanding how words interact in sentences, determining their roles, and maintaining clarity in meaning. Unlike English, where word order often dictates grammatical roles, Arabic relies heavily on changes in word endings to signal these functions.

What Are Arabic Cases الإعراب?

In Arabic, الإعراب refers to the grammatical case endings of nouns, adjectives, and sometimes verbs. These endings indicate a word’s syntactic role, such as whether it is the subject, object, or part of a prepositional phrase. The concept might seem daunting at first, but it plays a critical role in maintaining Arabic's flexibility and poetic elegance.

The system has three primary cases:

Nominative (مرفوع): Typically used for subjects and predicates.

Accusative (منصوب): Often marks direct objects or complements.

Genitive (مجرور): Associated with possession or when following a preposition.

How Do Case Endings Work?

Case endings appear as vowel marks at the ends of words, known as "harakat" (حركات). For instance:

In the nominative case, the word "kitab" (book) would end with a "dhamma" (ـُ): كتابُ

In the accusative case, it would take a "fatha" (ـَ): كتابَ

In the genitive case, it would have a "kasra" (ـِ): كتابِ

If the noun is definite (preceded by "al-" (الـ), the endings remain consistent with the case. However, when the noun is indefinite, a "tanween" (double vowel mark) is added, creating subtle distinctions.

Why Are Arabic Cases الإعراب Important?

Imagine trying to read a sentence in Arabic without knowing which word is the subject or object. Without الإعراب, meaning can become ambiguous, especially in complex sentences. For example:

كتبَ محمدٌ الرسالةَ

محمدُ كتبَ الرسالةَ

Both sentences involve "Muhammad" and "the letter," but switching the case endings shifts the meaning dramatically. In the first, "Muhammad" is the subject writing the letter, while in the second, he becomes the object being written about.

Common Scenarios for Each Case

Nominative Case (مرفوع):

Used for subjects: الطالبُ يدرسُ (The student studies).

For predicates: الجوُّ جميلٌ (The weather is beautiful).

Accusative Case (منصوب):

For direct objects: قرأتُ الكتابَ (I read the book).

After certain particles: لن أذهبَ (I will not go).

Genitive Case (مجرور):

After prepositions: في البيتِ (In the house).

To indicate possession: كتابُ المعلمِ (The teacher’s book).

Tips for Mastering Arabic Cases الإعراب

Read Aloud: Pay attention to case endings in Quranic verses or classical Arabic poetry, where الإعراب is pronounced explicitly.

Practice with Simple Sentences: Start with basic examples like “The boy wrote the book” and explore how the cases apply to different words.

Listen to Native Speakers: Formal settings like news broadcasts or lectures often highlight correct الإعراب.

Final Thoughts

While the idea of mastering Arabic cases الإعراب might seem overwhelming at first, understanding these grammatical details will deepen your connection to the language. Over time, recognizing and applying case endings becomes second nature, allowing you to appreciate Arabic’s richness and precision in its full glory. Whether you’re reading classical texts or composing sentences, this foundation is indispensable for clarity and eloquence.

[elsmaster]

LOVE that this is doing the rounds, thank you for your contribution, Tumblr.

A few notes that ended up being a wall of text:

No one in Dragon Age II canonically says "fuck". No one. They say "sod" instead. I believe the first "fuck" in the DA games was in Inquisition. A fun fact, that! Source: I've listened to every single one of the ~36 000 dialogue files for DA2 to cobble together a cosplay skit (that won us a trip to Paris where we got second place at the European championships, which is entirely irrelevant, but I like mentioning it)

Isabela having the most votes is absolutely correct.

I'm surprised that (as of this reblog) Fenris has the second-most votes. I just feel like he'd be far too eloquent to say "fuck" OR he'd just curse fully in Tevene instead (which I suppose DOES count, since the question doesn't specify language), but I can see the vision.

We're all clearly playing very different Hawkes, which I completely forgot when I made this poll, because I assumed Hawke would be right up there with Isabela. I only ever play the default Marian/Garrett Hawke (and have for a decade now), who always ends up being 95% purple, but I really feel like they'd definitely say "fuck" regardless of their colour. Red Hawke, 100%. Blue Hawke would, too, though a little less frequently.

Yes, I've thought about this far too much, because I feel like, from a narrative perspective, how a character swears is an interesting bit of characterisation, and using the wrong swears for the wrong character just feels... jarring.

... and now I'm just analysing the others too, but let's give your dashboards a cut:

Anders would've gleefully and frequently said "fuck" in Dragon Age: Awakening, but Justice makes him more formal and verbally reserved in 2 (not boring by any means, but more rehearsed, in a way), which is why he would only really say it in some very specific circumstances, when he's way more Anders than Justice.

Aveline says it in the privacy of her office, very sparingly and only once per use, and she punches her desk when she does it. This may or may not be related to the number of Hawke's messes she's had to clean up that week.

Bethany has said it a few times experimentally, but feels like it doesn't suit her, but she absolutely says it when she's mocking her siblings by pretending to be them. Their mum despairs.

Carver absolutely says "fuck" but in a way that any 18-year-old who hates their older sibling, is forced to move to a new city against their will, and secretly got a cringey tattoo would. Which is to say "a lot, but unnecessarily, because he's a bit of an edge lord".

Merrill says fuck, but it's always unexpected and never in the same context, which keeps everyone on their toes. They still jump every time it happens, though.

Someone in the tags said that Sebastian would say it but then pray for 3 business days, and that is absolutely correct, thank you. I'd like to add the he used to say "fuck" a lot before becoming a pious twat, which means that he's making an active effort not to say it, and it's a personal failure if he slips up.

(DA2) Varric might say "fuck" but it'd be on accident; not because he doesn't swear, but because "fuck" is such an uninspired word, and his vocabulary is more impressive than that.

[tired-gay-wreck9]

dude, what if karkat didn't help rose's alcoholism in game over because of gamzee?

I think there's also the alien aspect of it, that he doesn't get human culture, but

rose just got into consuming a substance that makes her happier and more lighthearted instead of the serious godtier great fighter she normally is

gamzee got into consuming a substance that made him happier and more lighthearted instead of the angry highblood great fighter he is during murderstuck

when gamzee stopped consuming the substance he killed two people, because of that past experience I doubt karkat would be jumping at the bit to have rose stop consuming the substance

I doubt he was 100% convinced that rose would turn into gamzee without alcohol, but gamzee probably played a factor

also, rose / gamzee parallels? both struggled with addiction, had absent parents, both have extensive knowledge of stuff, were upper class, purple

[gothicgaycowboy]

yuck

Word count: 4.4k 

Summary: Eddie agrees to entering a purely physical relationship with his long time crush you. The is is how you liked it, no connections, no romance, no strings. But what if Eddie was different?

Warnings: 18+ no minors, smut, fingering, afab reader, angst, talks of parents with marital issues, drug use, swearing, fluff, unrequited pinning, dual pov. 

A/N: this is my first time actually posting my writing so please be gentle and feel free to let me know of any mistakes I might have missed! Happy reading! (P.S. this whole fic and title was inspired by Yuck by Charli XCX) 

Eddie had a crush on you since the first moment he met you, so when you asked him oh so eloquently; “Wanna fuck?” how could he refuse?

You had built up quite the reputation since freshman year at Hawkins High. Some called you a slut but Eddie didn’t see it that way, he preferred the term “relationship picky”. It wasn’t like you put out for any guy that asked, you just weren't a fan of formal romantics. He knew what he was getting into from the beginning. You had laid down the ground rules pretty plainly: no non-sexual pet names, no after sex cuddling, and most importantly no kissing on the mouth. It hurt him deep down knowing that his feelings for you meant little because of this, but whatever attention he could get from you he would gladly take.

“Fuck,” you moaned as you succumbed to the pleasure Eddie was giving you.

He could feel your hot breath against his neck as you pulled his long locks. The sound of his now erratic thrusts overtook the room. He was so close.

“Please Eddie,” your voice hoarse from overuse.

“Whaddaya want sweetheart?” his hands grabbing your hips harder pulling you impossibly close.

This was the fifth time you had invited Eddie over to hook up– not that he was counting or anything. If he was lucky enough sometimes you would let him hangout afterwards. You guys would smoke, or watch a movie on opposite ends of the couch, and sometimes you would just talk. Don’t get him wrong, he really really liked the sex but sometimes he just wanted to be around you. Jesus he sounds like such a pussy.

“Come for me, please,” you gasped, your chest pressed so close to his he felt like he was crushing you.

“Shit,” he groaned, that was all it took for him to break, giving you one last thrust before finishing into the condom.

He leaned his head forward, collapsing into the pillow behind you trying to catch his breath. No matter if you let him stay around for a while or not this was a moment he always counted on. Where you were both so exhausted it allowed for some of your outer layers to shed away. So caught up on remembering how to adjust you allowed him to surround you. He could rest his head into the crook of your neck, or you would fall into his tattooed chest. And for just a few meaningless seconds he forgot what this agreement was.

You ran your hands down the sides of his torso. God he was so much broader than you remembered him being. Would this count as cuddling? You quickly let your hands fall back onto the mattress. Can't take any chances.

You had chosen Eddie as one of your “victims”--as you heard your peers so lovingly call them– because he was quiet about personal shit. When he wasn't walking on cafeteria tables or loudly imitating the sounds of a guitar, he was surprisingly normal, if that was even the right word for Eddie. And quite frankly you were tired of hearing the details of your latest fuck spread around school like a wildfire. Plus he was hot, obviously.

“You know you fucked up this time right?” you tried to sound self assured despite your still heavy breathing.

Every muscle in Eddie's body froze. Shit, he didn’t remember doing anything out of the ordinary. “Hey, I’m pretty sure you came unless you're faking it now.” he joked as he lowered his face to look down at you. “Which I would be deeply wounded by,” Eddie forced a faux dramatic frown on his face despite his internal panic. Did he kiss you and not remember? No, he definitely would have remembered that.

“No,” You pushed yourself up on your elbows, moving Eddie off you and forcing him to pull out. You winced at the feeling. He made quick work of removing the condom and tossing it into the small garbage can. Almost running back to your bed so you could finish your sentence.

“You called me sweetheart, that falls under non-sexual pet names,” your voice was calm as you corrected him like a small child.

“Oh… sorry, force of habit I guess,” The only other person Eddie had sex with was an ex girlfriend who broke up with him once it was clear he wasn’t gonna graduate the first time around. He was never the type for a one night stand.

“It’s fine, just don’t let it happen again.” you patted his thigh before moving past him to search the room for your clothes.

Eddie started to cover himself with your sheets, suddenly very aware of his nakedness. “Promise,” he said, it was barely a whisper. He pretended to be preoccupied with his rings so you wouldn’t notice him watching you get dressed out of the corner of his eyeline.

You pulled your shirt over your head with a sigh, moving your hair from blocking your vision. Turning to sit in front of your bedroom mirror you picked at the small details of your face. This was routine since your mother pointed out your disheveled looks after your first get together with Eddie. Smudged mascara? Check. Out of control hair? Check. Hickies covering your neck? Check. He made you feel out of control sometimes and you were still unsure if you liked it or not.

Noticing Eddie hadn’t moved in a while you spoke up, “You wanna get dressed Eddie?”

“Oh yeah, right sorry,” he said like he was just shaken out of a deep sleep. So he wasn’t allowed to hang around this time, that was fine with him.

He dressed as swiftly as possible as you watched from the view in your mirror.

Once he put on his jean vest he found himself unsure of what to do. This wasn’t the first time he had to leave after you guys hooked up but it was always a challenge. He never knew what you wanted him to do after. Did you want him to say goodbye, just leave? One time he gave you what must have been the world's most awkward handshake.

You turned to look in his direction after fixing your appearance.

“Well…” he rocked back and forth on the heels of his boots, swinging his hand into each other. “Always a pleasure.”  “Always a pleasure”!? What was wrong with him?

You awkwardly rubbed your lips together as you slowly nodded your head. Why did you have to pick this poor boy? “Yep.”

He made his way towards your window, giving you a small wave before disappearing from your view. You couldn’t contain the small smile from creeping it way onto your face. As you looked back towards yourself in the vanity your expression dropped. This wasn’t happening.

–

Besides the occasional call he received from you, Eddie's day-to-day life didn't really change.

If he decided to, he would show up to school, work on a new campaign for the Hellfire Club, deal to his usual list of clients, go home, play guitar ‘til someone made a noise complaint and smoke.

You wouldn’t acknowledge his existence at school, which he didn’t take personally. He knew you didn’t think you were too good to be seen around him, you weren’t that type of person. You were just acutely aware that people talked, and you hoped Eddie wouldn’t end up on your seemingly endless list of rumoured hookups. Eddie hadn’t told anyone about what you guys were doing besides his diary– which no one will ever find out about– he hated those types of guys.

The ones who felt it necessary to tell everyone within earshot of their latest conquest. Most of them were fucking lying to begin with. And they loved talking about how easy it was for them to get with whichever girl it was they were bragging about that day. Like they weren't as eager participants as the chick was in the whole thing. It was bullshit.

Eddie knew that being with you was a privilege and he looked forward to every call.

He walked into the cafeteria with his usual carefree attitude looking for the rest of the Hellfire Club. While scanning the room he was surprised to find you sitting alone at a smaller table in the back of the cafeteria. You rarely ate lunch at school, usually walking to your friends house for the break. He then noticed the defeated expression on your face as you moved your food around with the plastic fork. Something was definitely wrong. He knew better than to go over to you, it would be suspicious that Eddie the freak who had never even been seen speaking to you was suddenly so concerned for your well being. But he wanted nothing more than to make sure you were okay.

Just when he was about to say screw it and walk over to you he heard Dustin calling his name across the room and turned in his direction.

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked with a confused look on his face.

Eddie turned back in your direction just to see you walking out of the cafeteria at a speed he had never seen you leave before.

Eddie moved his head slowly back in Dustin's direction, still keeping his eyes locked on your spot, “Nothing man, just looking for you.” He made his way to his usual group of friends thinking of you.

–

He spent the entirety of lunch worrying about you. Once he got to fourth period he noticed you were absent from chemistry. You never missed a day of class unless it was an emergency. As soon as the period break bell rang he grabbed his shit and ditched the rest of the day, he wouldn’t have been able to focus anyway. He didn’t remember how he ended up standing on the front steps of your house but he was sure to receive a speeding ticket for how fast he ended up here.

He frantically rang your doorbell ‘til you answered. Your eyes were glassy and red, like you'd been crying.

“Eddie, what the hell are you doing here? I didn’t call,”

“I know, it’s just I saw you run out of the cafeteria and you weren’t in chemistry so I just thought I would come check on you.” He tried his best to sound casual, looking down at his boots.

“Jesus Eddie, you're not my boyfriend ya know,” He didn’t need to be looking at you to tell you were pissed.

clearly his “casual” wasn’t working.

“I know,” as much as I want to be. “You just seemed so stressed and seeing as I’m kind of an expert in the art of destressing medicines, I came bearing gifts.” He got the courage to look back up at your face and he held out his special metal lunch box.

You let out a chuckle, a smile forming on your lips. “Now you're speaking my language Munson, get in here!” you pulled him through the front door by the collar of his jacket.

–

A lot of people didn’t know that weed could sometimes act like a truth serum for Eddie. In the haze of a high he tended to be bolder, he was by no means shy but put a girl he's had a crush on forever in front of him and a joint and oh boy, he’ll sing like a canary. So in this moment he finally had the guts to ask;

“Why do you hate relationships so much?”

You made eye contact with him, you definitely weren't expecting that question.

“When did you get so nosey Eddie?” you let the joint hang from your fingers.

“Come on, don't try to avoid the question,” he rolled his eyes. “I never questioned you before, in fact I admired your hatred towards relationships because I thought it was some feminist shit, But now I don’t think thats true.”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned, you never told anyone why you hated romance and you didn't think you ever would. But you're intrigued to see where this goes.

“Yeah, so tell me, what is it,” he spoke so plainly it shocked you. Eddie, the same guy who was too afraid to tell you what he wanted when you first started having sex– and now suddenly it’s like he’s asking for a piece of your soul. “And you know I won’t tell anyone so don’t make up excuses.”

You let out a dry laugh in surprise. It was as if Eddie had been suddenly replaced by this journalist looking for the scoop.

“Fine, you wanna know the truth?” you said defensively,  Eddie lifted his head with intrigue. “I think love and romance are all great made up scams to trick people into thinking it’s ok to use others for their own selfish needs.” you finished your rant off by taking a puff of the joint in your hand.

Eddie slumped back down and let out a noise of disbelief, “I don’t buy that for a second.”

“Oh come on Eddie you can’t be that naive!” You spoke with an annoyed tone while blowing the smoke from his joint out of your lungs, filling your bedroom.  “It’s just a fact of life that guys view relationships as a drag they have to deal with in order to get laid.” You extend your arm from your horizontal position and  pass the joint back to him, slouching back into the mattress. “I get the key benefit of a relationship without feeling like a burden and the guys obviously get what they wanted from the start, it's a win-win situation.” A cocky grin crept its way onto your face as you finished your little speech.

Eddie scoffed, “God you're such a pessimist.” The tip of the joint lit a bright orange as he inhaled with little effort.

“No, no, my dear boy I’m just saying what everyone is too afraid to admit.”

“Maybe you can speak for the other guys you’ve been with but I’m not like that.” he put the now nub of a joint out into an empty soda can. “When I’m with somebody it’s because I care about them and want to be around them no matter what that means– if it’s sex, hey great– but there’s so much more than that to a relationship.” he finally stopped to let the air fill his lungs again.

Your mouth had fallen open in the process of Eddie's raving. “Am I hearing this right? Is this a confession from Eddie Munson himself to being a romantic?”

You had known of Eddie's little crush on you since you started this whole arrangement–  but that's all you thought it was, just a simple crush. Maybe he had just been thinking about fucking you for a while and you answered his prayer by letting him, and that would be the end of that. You didn’t picture him as the hopelessly in love type.

“You know what, yeah, yeah I am.” he gracelessly stood up on your bed with dramatic flair. He put both hands to mimic a megaphone around his mouth. “I EDDIE MUNSON AM A PROUD ROMANTIC!” he shouted.

It might have been the large amount of weed you just smoked but you swear you have never laughed that hard before in your life.

“Alright cupid, get down before you fall on your ass,”

He sank to his knees back on your bed. “So, what do you say?” he asked with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

“To what?” you responded confused, moving back into an upright position.

“Can I romance you?” he begged, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. “I’m not asking you to fall madly in love with me, but I just have this compulsive need to prove you wrong about your very depressing theory.”

“You can try I guess, but I’m telling you it’s not gonna work.” you told him with a look of sympathy.

We’ll see about that,” you could tell by the look on his face he was already cooking up what was bound to be a terrible scheme.

Leaning your head to flop back into the pillows you already found yourself questioning: Why did I agree to this?

–

“Eddie, where the hell are you taking me?” you frustratedly sigh, Eddie woke you up in the middle of a school night, almost shoved you into his van, just to have you walk for the past five minutes blindfolded, guided by Eddie’s hand on your lower back.

“Just a few more steps I promise,” you could practically hear the smirk on his face.

Eddie moved behind you to untie the blindfold– he’d been giddy ever since the moment you let him put it on you. He tried not to get his hopes up, but he had already put you through many “trials” (or “dates'' as normal people often referred to them) and he had noticed slight changes in your demeanor. At first you would spend the majority of your “dates” making fun of them; “wow a movie date, how original Munson”, “Flowers? You spent your hard earned drug money on something that's gonna die in a week?”, “I’m surprised they even let us into this restaurant” etc. You still made those jokes but far less now, and in the moments where you thought he wasn’t watching you he could see a faint smile on your face.

But most importantly to Eddie, you opened up to him in these moments, he learned the reason you gave up on love in the first place was watching your parents marriage turn into what it is today. “I haven't seen them kiss since I was six years old, but at least now they’re finally admitting to each other what they were in this for from the start right?” “They don’t even fucking talk to each other anymore unless it’s about money problems.”

“So, what do you think?” Eddie was clearly filled with anticipation for your response.

“Oh my god,” that was all you could say, taking in the sight in front of you.

Eddie had set up a candlelit picnic at his usual dealing bench. White candles lined the rotting wood of the table and a small pile of pillows and blankets littered the ground– with a picnic basket in the middle of course.

“Eddie it’s so…” beautiful thank you is what you should have said. You just couldn’t bring yourself to give in like that Eddie is just trying to prove a point, you of all people should know deep down all guys are the same. “Cheesey.” you forced out a laugh to make the insult more genuine.

There was a long pause of silence.

Eddie cleared his throat. “Yeah you’re right this was a dumb idea,” he came up from behind you and started blowing out one of the many candles.

“Wait Eddie I’m sorry,” you muttered in apology, seeing the saddened look on his face as he passed you.

“No, you are right.” he turned quickly to look at you, you could see tears pooling in his big brown eyes.

“Always are,” he got progressively louder. “I thought since you chose me it was some sort of sign ya know? That maybe my stupid feelings for you ment something, and maybe I wasn’t just gonna sit around pinning you you like the loser that I am, but hey you proved me wrong, you win right?”

At this point you could now feel the tears building up in your own eyes as your vision became blurred.

“Eddie no, pleas–  just listen to me… I’m scared alright,” you admitted. Eddie's eyes had a hard time meeting yours right now. “I didn’t want to be in relationships not because of some big philosophical ideology, but because I was afraid of being unlovable.” you could feel the tightness in your throat start to grow.

You’re unsure of what sudden confidence overtook you but you gently grabbed Eddie's face, making him look at you. “And when I’m with you I don’t feel that way and it terrifies me that when you inevitably leave me I’m gonna end up feeling that way all over again.” you were crying at this point.

“Who said I would ever leave you?” You could feel the cool of his metal rings across your face as caressed away your tears.

“Eddie it’s not logical to think whatever we have going on here is gonna last forever,” you sniffled.

“And we would never know that unless you just give this a chance.” Eddie’s hands extended dramatically to your surroundings. “If you give me the chance to show you how much I care about you, I swear I will not let you regret it for a moment.” you could feel the gentle touch of his hands make their way onto the curve of your waist. “Please,” he wished.

The words were sitting on the tip of your tongue but they just refused to come out.

“Can I at least kiss you goodbye?” Eddie knew you hadn’t had your first kiss yet. Too afraid to give it to the wrong guy. “I don’t want to have my first kiss with somebody who just thinks of me as a hookup”

You nodded, still finding yourself unable to speak.

Eddie slowly brought his thumb up over your bottom lip, delicately brushing against it like a flower petal before leaning in. The kiss is soft and slow, nothing like you would have usually suspected from Eddie. You felt yourself falling into it as if you had done it before. Everything with Eddie was so natural and you couldn’t explain why. As you were about to pull him closer he broke away.

You had yet to open your eyes when you spoke. “Stay,” it was so quiet you're sure he didn’t hear you.

“What?”

“I said stay, please I want thi–” you were cut off by Eddie pulling you back up to his lips. God finally he thought.

You both clumsily made your way onto the blanket pile on the forest floor, kicking off your shoes as you went.

Eddie had fucked you many times but he knew this time was going to be different, he neede it to be perfect. You had laid down first, grabbing Eddie’s shirt collar and bringing him down with you. He smiled against your lips.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that, sweetheart?” hsi hips began moving against yours, he could feel the heat of you over your sleep shorts.

“Fuck,” you gasped at the sensation of his tight jeans over your clothed clit.

“You like that baby?” he teased, grasping your cheeks between his fingers to look at you.

“Eddie please don– mmm, tease,”

He didn’t need you to tell him again. Letting go of your face he reached down to the waistband of your shorts pulling them down along with your panties. You shivered as the cold night air hit you.

“Aw, princess, you get this wet just from a couple kisses?” he giggled, running the tips of his fingers through your folds. You had lost control of your movement, rocking against his hand with a vigorous pace.

You tried to hold back your moans but god he had to make everything so difficult for you. “I can’t help it,” did you always sound this pathetic with Eddie?

“I know baby, I know.” you didn’t even have the time to process his words before his thick fingers made their way inside you.

“Oh god, Eddie!” his lips came crashing down to yours, muffling your moans as his thumb made small circles over your clit. No matter how many times you’d done this you always forgot how good it felt the next time around. You would never tell him this out loud– he already had a bit of an ego, but this was another reason you had chosen Eddie as your newest hookup, guitar players always had a way with their fingers.

His ring and pointer finger making a curling motion inside you, you grabbed his arm digging your nails into his biceps. Your whines broke free as he removed his lips from yours coming up for air.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, eyes glazed over like he was stoned.

“Keep saying stuff like that and this will be over before it even started,” your laugh cut off by another moan.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I have never wanted anyone else the way I want you and I don’t think I ever will.” you could feel yourself getting closer. “And right now what I need more than anything is for you to come for me baby, please.” He babbled, his head snapped forward leaving soft open mouthed kisses across the space of your neck and jaw.

Jesus this boy was trying to kill you.

“Yes, yes Eddie, ‘mmgonna come.” you grabbed the back of his neck forcing his mouth back to yours.

Your orgasm hits you like a wave, rolling from your lower belly through the rest of your body. Eddie held you close to him, fingers helping you come down from you high.

“There you go sweetheart, such a good girl for me,” he spoke against your lips.

His fingers were still grazing across your over-sensitive clit. You tried clamping your thighs shut as you grabbed his hand to stop his movement.

“Hey, what's wrong?” he moved back quickly, clearly panicked by your actions.

“N-nothing,” you huffed through labored breaths. “Just sensitive, you did…really good.”

He smiled at that. “Have I ever disappointed you before?”

“You know you haven’t,”

He grabbed your discarded shorts pushing them back up your legs before moving to lay down beside you. What did you ever do to deserve someone like him? You clung to him, pusing your face into the Hellfire Club t-shirt he never seemed to take off.

Sitting in silence for what felt like hours, your mind wondered. What does this mean? Are we together officially now, or have I somehow disappointed him already? No, you’re just benign ridiculous, if he just wanted sex he wouln’t have gone through this whole stupid romancing in the first place.

“So, does this mean you wanna…” you could hear the heartbeat in his chest grow louder with anxiety.

“Be– ya know, my girlfriend or whatever,” his voice cracked with almost every word despite being well over the pubescent awkward voice phase.

“Eddie Munson,” you lifted yourself up with your elbow crawling on top of him. “It would be my honour to be your girlfriend or whatever.” you said through a smile, leaning down to kiss him.

What did he ever do to deserve someone like you?

[daniclaytcn]

hustling for the good life (never thought i’d meet you here)

Summary: “Erm,” Buck says eloquently and when the stranger’s lips twitch, he wonders if it’s possible to die of embarrassment. After a moment’s struggle, he manages to pull himself together and says, “Hi. I’m Buck.”

“Eddie,” the man replies, raking his gaze over Buck in a way that makes him feel ready to combust. “I don’t recall seeing you at the wedding. Are you on the bride’s side, or the groom’s?”

Shit.

or, a different first meeting, where buck accidentally crashes eddie's sister's wedding reception. just normal stuff.

(read on ao3)

thank you, @tawaifeddiediaz for all your help with this!

Buck slips through the glass doors separating the two party halls, stumbles through a throng of excited little ladies speaking rapid-fire Spanish and slumps against a wall in a dark corner, taking in a huge breath of relief.

He knows fully well that he should be back in the other hall, suffering through alongside Maddie, the fancy business event their parents had roped them into attending. After years of stony silence, of Buck going from one place to the next in a desperate attempt to find a home; of Maddie trapped in an abusive marriage; they’re both finally in a stable situation. Buck has settled down in LA for the past year and had just begun his time as a probationary firefighter with the LAFD when Maddie found him six months ago.

When she’d settled into her job as a dispatcher, it had been Maddie's idea to reach out to their parents. Buck had been reluctant at first, but after the ill-advised, fleeting high that was his relationship with Abby before she’d left him, he’d started to think that maybe it would be a good idea to mend some bridges, to at least try to have a relationship with their parents now.

Wrong.

Philip and Margaret Buckley had been in Texas on account of Philip’s work, and they’d invited Buck and Maddie to come directly to El Paso. Buck and Maddie had barely said hello to them in the hotel before they were asked to attend Philip’s event—no talk of the last ten years, no acknowledgement of how the Buckleys had essentially disowned their children. Buck wanted to tell Maddie that he told her so, but he wants to support her more than he wants to have the last word, so he bit his tongue and attended the party with her. And, it has been a trainwreck for the past hour—Philip’s smarmy colleagues turning up their noses at Buck being a firefighter and his lack of a college degree, Maddie’s pinched smile as their parents delicately danced around her abusive marriage and all the ‘terrible choices’ she had made—Buck has had to restrain himself from throwing a drink or two in his parents’ faces.

Buck only feels slightly bad about leaving Maddie on her own when he makes his escape, but he’d lost sight of her for a few minutes and couldn’t bear to stand his parents any longer. He does feel bad about crashing—what looks to be a wedding reception, by the sight of it, but hey, the place is so packed that he doubts anyone will notice him.

…it’s just a bonus that some of the snacks he grabbed from a serving tray are better than any of the ridiculously expensive food his parents have been serving all night.

As he makes himself comfortable in his corner, taking a moment to look around the venue, Buck can already feel the rage and discomfort that has simmered under his skin since they landed in Texas begin to dissipate. It might be crowded and loud, but the atmosphere is so different, feels so warm and inviting in comparison to the cold, formal mess Buck just escaped, that he lets his guard down for a minute, pushes up against the wall and enjoys the snack in his hand. And of course, that’s when—

“Hello,” says a smooth voice, so suddenly and so close to Buck’s ear that he jumps violently, spilling crumbs all over himself as he turns to face the owner of the voice. A momentary fear of being caught out vanishes when he sees the drop-dead gorgeous man standing next to him, with thick hair slicked back and amused brown eyes, wearing a navy-blue suit that frankly looks obscene with how well it’s tailored to fit his form.

“Erm,” Buck says eloquently and when the stranger’s lips twitch, he wonders if it’s possible to die of embarrassment. After a moment’s struggle, he manages to pull himself together and says, “Hi. I’m Buck.”

“Eddie,” the man replies, raking his gaze over Buck in a way that makes him feel ready to combust. “I don’t recall seeing you at the wedding. Are you on the bride’s side, or the groom’s?”

Shit shit shit. Buck puts a pause on objectifying the unfairly hot guy in front of him to try and make his answer sound believable. “Oh, I was there,” he says, trying for casual. “I’m er,” Buck chances a glance at the banner hung above the stage, Congratulations, Adriana and Ruben! “I’m on the bride’s side,” He finishes and gives a weak laugh, waving a hand. “Great party, huh?”

Eddie hums. “That’s interesting,” he says slowly, and Buck goes a little cold at his knowing tone, having a distinct feeling that he’s been caught out. “I don’t think my sister’s ever mentioned you. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you around, either.”

“That’s strange,” Buck says, hoping he sounds cool and unaffected. He’s not sure he succeeds. “I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t have.” He’s sweating now, uncomfortable under the stiff suit he’d dug out for the occasion. Not for the first time that night, Buck inwardly curses his parents.

Eddie only gazes back at him, his sharp stare betraying his smiling lips. Buck’s resolve crumbles like wet paper.

“Okay, fine,” he says in a rush, and Eddie looks satisfied. Dick, Buck thinks, hating how attracted he is to him. “I’m not supposed to be here. I don’t even know your sister. But I swear, I’m not trying to, like, crash this wedding, or score free food.”

Eddie pointedly lowers his gaze to the half-eaten pastry in Buck’s hand. Buck can feel himself go bright red, and promptly tucks it out of sight.

“…aside from that,” he amends. “Look, I’m from the other hall. It’s a party being hosted by my parents, and I didn’t even want to come, but I didn’t want to leave my sister alone. It just got to be a lot, and I needed to breathe, and coming in here seemed less conspicuous than sneaking out through the front entrance.”

He’s not sure why he’s even telling a complete stranger all this. His story sounds ridiculous when said out loud and there’s no reason for Eddie to believe him. Against all odds, though, Buck sees Eddie’s eyes soften a little, and he visibly relaxes.

“I take it you don’t get along with your parents?” Eddie asks.

Buck laughs. “What gave it away?” he asks, dryly; then, feeling sheepish, he adds, “Look, I’m really sorry I came in here. I promise you; I don’t have a habit of crashing the wedding receptions of random strangers.” Eddie laughs at that, and not to sound cheesy, but it’s a fucking beautiful sound.

“I certainly hope so,” Eddie says, amused. “You’re not very good at being sneaky.”

Buck’s mouth falls open with mock outrage, but Eddie goes on. “Look, do you wanna get out of here?”

Buck only blinks at him and Eddie rolls his eyes. “There’s a door in the back that leads out into the hallway. It’s technically staff-only but…” He shrugs. “I could use some air, too.”

“And you’re inviting a stranger who just crashed your sister’s wedding to come with you?” Buck asks, baffled.

Eddie smirks. “Well, it’s either that or you stay here and get caught by my parents, who are a lot less nice than I am.” Buck follows his gaze to an older couple who seem stern and no-nonsense, even through their joy for their daughter, and cringes. “On second thought…”

They escape into the darkened corridor outside the party hall a few minutes later. Eddie’s snagged a bottle of wine from the open bar and Buck blinks at it, wondering when he had the time to do that. He sits down cross-legged on the floor and after a moment’s hesitation, Buck joins him.

“So, is there a particular reason you’re escaping your own sister’s wedding?” Buck asks curiously, accepting the bottle when Eddie passes it to him. Eddie visibly grimaces, looking a bit guilty. It’s such a sharp contrast to the rest of him; the polished, picture-perfect image he cuts in his crisp suit and styled hair and handsome face.

Buck likes it.

“I, erm,” Eddie pauses, considering, and then sighs. “My wife divorced me,” he admits and Buck twists his head around to look at him in surprise. He glances down surreptitiously, and sure enough, he thinks he can make out a tan line on Eddie’s ring finger.

“I love my family,” Eddie continues, “But they’ve been a little, well. Judgemental. About all of this. And they never really liked her, so now it’s all thinly veiled ‘I told you so’s from most of them. I love my sister and I want to support her, but I also need a break from being under their attention.”

“Is that why you bought my story so easily?” Buck asks, Eddie chuckles.

“I guess. I can understand complicated families,” He casts up his eyes at Buck. “What’s the story with yours?”

Buck sighs. How does he explain his parents’ cold, painful indifference; the years of silence, and the fact that his big sister had to practically raise him when she was a kid herself? How does he dump all of that on a stranger? Even for the kindness in Eddie’s eyes, and the understanding he feels from the other man; it’s all too much. Buck is too much. It’s been made pretty clear to him all of his life.

Taking a savage swig from the bottle, Buck sighs and thumps his head against the wall.

Eddie seems to sense his reluctance to open up, and starts quietly talking instead, about his sisters. Adriana, the one who’s gotten married and has begun working in a big law firm. Sophia, who’s just started college, loves pop music and the colour pink and endlessly mocking her big brother. “Sounds like Maddie,” Buck interjects, and Eddie laughs.

“Sisters,” he says, fondly, and Buck starts telling him about Maddie, about what a badass she is, how she definitely has a crush on his co-worker but is too stubborn to admit it, how she used to be a nurse, and what an amazing dispatcher she makes these days. The bottle of wine sits forgotten between them as they’re suddenly talking like they’ve known each other all their lives. Eddie has a dry, wicked sense of humour that makes Buck laugh until his stomach hurts. He continues to listen attentively even when Buck diverges in the middle of a story to follow a different train of thought, and that makes his heart hurt in a funny way.

He thinks he understands why Eddie invited him out here. Maybe Eddie recognized another kindred spirit, just like Buck did.

Buck has just mentioned that he’s a firefighter when Eddie lets out a low sound of surprise.

“No shit?” He says. “I just applied to the Fire Academy.”

“You’re kidding,” Buck says, amazed. Eddie shakes his head and tells him how he’s been working three jobs since his wife left, and how firefighting seemed like a good choice.

“My parents say I’m practically killing myself, and they’re probably right,” a shadow crosses over Eddie’s face like he’s remembering something unpleasant. “Most of all, I hate not being able to spend enough time with my son.”

Buck jolts. “Whoa, you got a kid?”

Eddie tenses, and looks at him carefully, but whatever he sees in Buck’s face must reassure him, so he pulls out his phone and shows him the lock screen—a picture of an adorable curly-haired boy on crutches with the biggest grin on his face. Buck’s heart melts. “He’s super adorable.”

“He’s seven,” Eddie says, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “I, uh, I’ve either been working or being at home with him, so this is the first night in ages I haven’t done either. Feels a bit weird, to be honest.”

“Well, your entire life can’t revolve around being a dad,” Buck points out, reasonably, but Eddie sighs and looks away. Sensing that this is a potentially explosive topic, he decides not to push.

“If this is your first night out in a while, I’m surprised you chose to spend it with me,” Buck jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Eddie smiles.

“Well, you were being quite conspicuous in a wedding reception you weren’t supposed to be at,” Eddie teases. “I figured it would be interesting if nothing else?”

“I was not,” Buck protests. “That party is packed, Eddie. I didn’t think I was noticeable.”

Eddie shrugs. “Well, maybe I was just paying attention,” he replies, and Buck knows, he knows Eddie doesn’t mean anything deeper, but the words still make his heart do a pathetic flip in his chest. Spending all this time with his parents had made him feel like he was back there in his childhood home, unseen and unheard, tiny and invisible. And to be seen—to be listened to—by someone he’s just met…

Well.

It feels a lot like hope, Buck thinks and turns to look at Eddie, only to find his face inches away from his.

When did we get so close, Buck thinks dazedly, seconds before Eddie’s lips are on his.

Eddie tastes like the wine they’ve been drinking, is the first thing Buck registers. He turns, trying to get closer, and grabs the curve of Eddie’s shoulder, relishing the noise he makes into his mouth in response. Eddie buries his hands in Buck’s hair as the kiss turns filthy, tugging slightly, smiling into the kiss at the groan Buck lets out. Buck’s blood feels like it’s on fire. He shifts his hands to Eddie’s hips, pulling him closer, but knocks over the abandoned wine bottle in the process.

The sound of the bottle hitting the floor is loud in the silent hallway and they spring apart in surprise, panting. Eddie’s eyes are blown black and his cheeks are flushed. He looks wrecked. God, the things Buck wants to do to him—

A buzzing noise from his pocket breaks the spell. Swallowing, Buck puts some space between himself and Eddie, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He winces when he sees the caller ID.

“Mads—” he tries, but she interrupts him, sounding furious, “Where are you?”

Buck checks the time on his phone and his eyes go wide when he realizes that he’s been out here with Eddie for over an hour. “I’m so sorry,” he gets out. “I was—I’ll be right back, oh my God.” He scrambles to his feet, as he ends the call, and stops, suddenly unsure, when Eddie imitates him.

Eddie tries for a smile but he still looks a little stunned. Buck can relate.

“So,” Eddie runs a hand through his hair, flustered, and that really should not be as hot as it is, what the fuck. “I’m guessing that was your sister?”

Buck nods. “She’s pissed. I have to, uh…”

“Yeah, no, I get it,” Eddie seems at a loss for words for the first time all night and it sparks a kind of pride in Buck’s chest, he was the one to do that. “Well, I guess—”

Buck’s phone buzzes again, with a series of frenzied texts from Maddie. “I really have to go,” he says quickly. Before he has a chance to second-guess himself, he’s darting forward and pressing a kiss to Eddie’s cheek.

He hurries back through the door they came through, leaving Eddie in the hallway with the wine bottle at his feet in a pool of the dregs.

It’s not well after the scolding he gets from Maddie and another confrontation with his parents that he realizes he never got Eddie’s number.

Hours later, after reaching home and thanking the sitter and looking in on Chris, Eddie is still feeling dazed.

Did he really just do that? Did he make out with a stranger—a guy—at Adriana’s wedding reception, did he almost hook up with him right then and there and…let him leave without even getting his fucking number?

Eddie collapses down onto his bed and buries his head in his hands. He needs to work tomorrow, and he should be taking advantage of what little sleep he can get. But he can’t get his mind to quiet, can’t stop thinking about Buck, the way he’d felt alive this evening for the first time in months. He can’t squash the guilt he feels about kissing someone that wasn’t his (ex) wife. Can’t help but feel awful that he spent the majority of this night just…enjoying himself, and not thinking about Christopher every other minute. Can’t run from the fear that what he’s known about himself for a very long time might actually be true now.

He needs to be focused on Chris, on becoming a firefighter, and on potentially moving out of El Paso. He can’t be thinking about Buck, or the way he smiled, or the way he kissed.

He just needs to compartmentalize this, like he does everything else.

Besides, it’s not like he’s ever gonna see the guy again.

Seven months after El Paso, Buck is coming into the firehouse along with Chimney, for the beginning of their shift.

“Look, I’m glad that you and Maddie are finally dating,” Buck is saying to him. “I’d rather just not hear the details.”

Chim looks at him in disbelief. “You think I’m eager to discuss them with you, Buck?”

“I’m just saying! I had to hear every detail of your date from Maddie last night, I’d rather not have a repeat of it!” Despite himself, Buck is grinning, genuinely happy for his sister and his friend. He can’t help but feel envious whenever he sees what they have, though—that ease, that comfort, that familiarity. He wants that for himself.

“You do realize that your protesting is just gonna make me want to talk about it just to mess with you, right?” Chimney asks, dryly. He says something else, but Buck isn’t listening anymore, frowning when he sees someone unfamiliar standing in the bay, his back to them.

“Hey, who’s that?”

Chimney pauses mid-sentence and squints. “Must be the new recruit. Bobby said we were getting a probie this week.”

Buck’s hackles instantly rise. “What new—”

The words die on his lips when the man turns around, smiling as Bobby approaches from his office.

It’s been months, but Buck still recognizes him. That face consumed his thoughts for weeks after he came back to LA.

He’s still as gorgeous as Buck remembers.

Eddie turns to look at them as they approach, and his eyes go wide for a split second when they land on Buck, the smile slipping off his face briefly. So he does remember, Buck thinks. He’s not sure what to do—does he try to confront him? Is that even a good idea, here in the firehouse, with all their colleagues around them? How would they even explain this?

Eddie collects himself remarkably quickly and they breeze through the introductions, and Buck is certain that no one but him has noticed the way their gazes linger on each other for a little too long; how they take a moment to let go when they shake hands.

Buck is an awkward mess around Eddie for the rest of the shift, though, and Bobby pulls him aside, though not for the reason Buck expects.

“Look, I know it’s difficult having a new guy on the team,” Bobby tells him. “But you’ve gotta play nice, all right? Eddie’s one of us, now.”

Buck just blinks at him. He has no idea what Bobby is going on about.

Buck does learn that Eddie was in the army, and…wow, that explains a lot about him, actually. He’d been pretty tight-lipped about his ex-wife, the circumstances around their split, and what he used to do for work, and Buck can start putting the pieces together. It makes him—goddamn—it makes him like the guy even more.

They end their shift by disarming a fucking grenade together, and Buck is amazed by how seamlessly he and Eddie work together, like they share a mind. They work side by side like they’ve been doing it for years, not even needing to verbally communicate to know what the other needs. And, when they get out of the ambulance and Eddie grins at him and tells Buck that he can have his back any day, Buck knows that he can’t pretend the night they spent together didn’t happen.

Buck lingers by his truck in the parking lot after the shift ends, twisting his keys in his hands nervously as he waits for Eddie to come out. When Eddie does, he makes a beeline straight for him, much to Buck’s relief.

“Hey,” Eddie says, a little awkwardly. “So, um. Insane coincidence, right?”

Buck laughs, feeling some of the weight lift off his shoulders. “I wasn’t even sure you remembered me, for a moment there,” he admits. Eddie looks surprised.

“How could I forget?” And Eddie really needs to stop saying stuff like that, or Buck will—he doesn’t know. Get down on one knee, maybe.

“When did you move to LA?” Buck asks, mostly to stop himself from lurching forward and kissing him. “I mean—were you already planning it when we met, or…?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I was considering leaving El Paso, but I wasn’t sure where, yet. And once I came here—I mean, I remembered you saying you’re from Los Angeles, but it’s a big city, I didn’t even imagine we would run into each other, let alone that I would be assigned to the same firehouse as you.”

Buck swallows. “That’s—that’s not a problem for you, is it?”

Eddie tilts his head, looking at him consideringly. “As long as it’s not a problem for you.”

“Hell no.”

Eddie laughs but looks slightly relieved at Buck’s words. If he’d been just as nervous as Buck felt, he’s done a damn good job of hiding it. “So.” Eddie fiddles with the strap of his bag. Buck takes a moment to appreciate how good he looks even in casual clothes; a red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up and jeans that look like they’re painted on. He drags his eyes away when he realizes he’s been caught and a smirk appears on Eddie’s face. “What now?”

Buck takes a step closer to him. “Well…I could take you out for coffee?” he offers. “And maybe I could meet Christopher sometime?”

Eddie looks incredulous. “You remember Chris?” he asks in a quiet, disbelieving voice.

“I mean, of course—” but Buck doesn’t get to finish the rest of his sentence as Eddie shoves him up against the side of his truck and kisses him with the same precision and intensity Buck dreamed about for weeks, and oh, okay. Buck grabs onto Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Talking is overrated, anyway.

Eddie pulls away all too soon, breathing hard, but he’s smiling as his hands come up to cradle Buck’s face. “Coffee sounds good,” he says and looks a little smug when Buck takes a beat too long to respond, the kiss having fried his brain.

Buck’s initial assessment of Eddie was right. He is a dick.

And Buck’s already a little in love.

“We should probably take this somewhere else before our co-workers find us and start asking some uncomfortable questions,” Buck says, but makes no effort to let go of Eddie.

Eddie grins delightedly. “Yeah, it’ll be pretty hard to explain to them that we know each other because you crashed my sister’s wedding reception.”

Buck shakes uncontrollably with laughter and lets his head fall into the crook of Eddie’s neck. “Eddie, oh my God.”

“What? I am never gonna let that go, you know.”

Buck pulls back, his cheeks flushed and his eyes sparkling. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Eddie only laughs and kisses him again.

[youjustwaitsunshine]

ok so I’mma ask a really dumb question. What do you mean when you say that you can tell that German wasn’t a good subject for Seb in school? I’m assuming it’s something in -how- he’s speaking? Is that a big deal in school? For me as a usamerican, public speaking or formal speaking isn’t much taught unless it’s for a particular vocation, so people usually don’t speak in that way.

not a dumb question at all! also esp other germans, feel free to discuss/add your point of view

so first off the education system in germany is a ~huge~ mess because our federal states all manage education separately which leads to really big discrepancies in the value of your final exams (it's way easier to get full marks in some states than others etc and unis then have to accommodate to that, it's among other things something that adds to the rift between former East and West Germany) and not only that, it even varies within the federal states because the schools are funded by the idk the english equivalent, i guess you could say counties? so i can only truly speak about my experiences (but the subjects are still more or less centralized and vary mostly in the depth theyre gone into with)

In Seb's case, he often struggles to express himself clearly in German, uses examples and often repeats sentences/sentence fragments that he seems comfortable with. He often leaves thoughts unfinished and although he's quite eloquent when he knows what he wants to say his words get more 'simple' when he gets stuck explaining himself and talks in what a German teacher would consider 'bad style'. Funnily enough, he's more eloquent (/consistent in his level of eloquence) in English, probably both due to it being his second language and that he uses it a lot more in a professional context where it's extremely important to report back to the team clearly. It's important to note though that the people interviewing Seb are excellent at German (or English) and often studied journalism so it's very noticeable while it probably would be less so in a discussion with people whose profession isn't tied to eloquence.

That said, i do feel like there's a lot of value placed on properly expressing yourself throughout all subjects. In German class (and also second and third languages, in my case English and French) you write a lot of argumentative essays and have mock debates and class discussions. There's of course a lot of literary analysis but that still comes around to expressing yourself concisely and clearly. We don't explicitly have public speaking in German class but the mock discussions are (or at least were at my school) held not only in German class but also in Politics class, Geography and Economics class, Religion/Ethics class (the subject differs depending on if you're protestant or catholic or a different confession/religion/not religious but the topics are largely the same, ethics, morality, the world religions) and to an extent in History class. Also a lot of schools have project weeks where you have a model parliament debate, be it model UN or EU or whatever which is pretty cool.

To get back to German class though, it's one of the core subjects in the education system for most of your school career (when i finished school even more so than now because the education system ~in my federal state~ changed right after i graduated) together with the languages you learn and math and a lot of the skills from german class transfer over to subjects that get less hours/week.

Tl;dr: German class is definitely (among other things) putting a focus on teaching students how to be effectively argumentative both in written and spoken word and Seb often speaks German a bit clumsily and in simple(r) terms (than those around him).