#i want to take back what i said about me dancing i think i was just feeling too awkward at the bachelorette party to really enjoy myself

[queerweewoo]

“So, I overheard this guy in the line at the coffee shop this morning talking about name meanings—”

“Of course you did,” Eddie interjects, not unkindly.

Buck turned up with beers about a half hour ago, and has had his head in his phone for the last, what, twenty minutes? Something like that.

This is the first thing he's said since Eddie let him in and he sat his ass down on the couch in silence, looking like he needed Eddie to just allow him to.

Eddie did.

“—and I thought I'd look up ours.”

He's chewing on his bottom lip like it tastes good.

Eddie surprises himself by wondering if it does.

“I'm guessing you already know what Christopher means.”

Thinking back to when Shannon asked if he liked the name, Eddie smiles.

“Means 'Bearer of Christ', or something, right? We chose it because was Shannon's grandfather's name, though. He was Greek, and she adored him.”

Searching fingers instinctively find his pendant. It's positioned to the left, sitting right over his heart.

He misses his son like he'd miss a lung.

Buck looks up at him and smiles back, and Eddie feels glad the release he'd found dancing 'round his living room earlier isn't going to suddenly disappear down the bathroom sinkhole, along with his moustache.

“So, tell me, what does Edmundo mean, oh scholarly one?”

Buck's eyebrows try to meet his hairline.

“You don't know?”

Eddie tips his head back against the couch and scrunches his mouth up into nose.

“I have sisters, man, of course I know what it means. But that doesn't mean I don't want you to tell me.”

Buck seems somewhat happy with that.

“Well, it's a derivative of the Old English name Edmund, which is a combination of the words ēad and mund. The first part means prosperity, or riches, which is a bit of a bust, sorry man,” and he tries for a grin. It almost hits.

“But the the mund part means protector—which is pretty spot on, I reckon.”

Buck's eyelashes are kind of blonde, and kind of pretty. Eddie's thought it before, but there's just something about them in this light, in Eddie's house, on Eddie's couch.

“It's actually a real pretty name, Edmundo. Don't know if I've ever told you I think that.”

“Don't think I've ever told you your eyelashes are kind of pretty, so that makes us even, I guess.”

Eddie smiles at Buck, big and genuine, and somehow it's so easy.

Buck smiles back. Looks a little confused, or pleased, or both. Eddie's not sure, but either is okay with him.

“Um, thanks?”

Eddie bites his tongue between his teeth in a poor effort to stop his grin turning positively goofy.

Buck takes it for what it is, and bats his eyelashes at Eddie, silly, and laughs.

His whole demeanor then changes as he finally settles properly into the couch and gifts his lungs with what might be the first proper breath he's taken since he arrived.

“Anyway, Evan is the worst of the three. It means yew, like the tree? Which is—it symbolises, like, spirituality, and rebirth and shit like that. 'S not really, uh, me, you know?”

“You mean like Evan isn't really you?”

Buck bites at his red, red lip again.

Eddie decides it'd taste like cherry Chupa Chups.

“Yeah. But it's—my name.”

“Except it isn't though, it's it?” Eddie reminds him. “You're name is Buck, Buck. You decided that.”

“I don't know why he always insisted on calling me Evan. Or why I just—let him. It was kind of weird.”

Tommy.

"Called? Past tense?” Eddie flips his tongue in his mouth. Breathes a little more deliberately.

Buck looks at his phone again before he's slowly placing it down on the couch between them.

His fingers are touching the outside of Eddie's thigh, and Eddie's suddenly acutely aware that he still isn't wearing any pants.

Buck leaves his hand where it is.

“He, uh, he dumped me. Because I—”

Buck sucks in oxygen, a lot of it, and holds it in his lungs before puffing out his cheeks as he makes a show of blowing it back out again.

“I asked him to move in with me.”

Eddie was not expecting either of those statements.

"Ouch.”

Buck's fingers twitch against Eddie's skin, and Eddie feels it travel right down his leg and into his toes, which curl involuntarily into the carpet.

“You wanna talk about it?” he offers, kind of knowing Buck doesn't. He will when he's ready.

“Not really.”

Eddie licks at his lips. They taste like beer, and a little like confidence.

“How about Buck?”

Buck looks at him, perplexed.

Eddie's leg is starting to cramp a bit.

He doesn't move it.

“A Buck is another name for a stag, right?” he continues. “And the stag symbolises strength and purity—

“Don't forget fertility” Buck is looking at Eddie, and it feels like something.

Eddie snorts. “'Course, don't wanna forget fertility.”

Buck smiles the first proper Buck smile of the evening, and Eddie's feels it in his chest.

“Hey, hang on, how come you know so much about stags, Edmundo?”

“You did that project with Chris about the forest.”

Buck blinks at him.

“Dude that was, like, years ago. And, as you said, I was the one learning all about the woodland creatures and different types berries and toadstools, so how do you—”

“Because you told me,” Eddie shrugs a shoulder.

Buck blinks some more.

“And you—remembered that?” he asks.

In this moment, Eddie couldn't blink, nor look away from Buck, even if somebody were to pay him.

“I remember everything you tell me.”

It's weird but it's like the air itself is crackling as they sit here, just staring at each other.

They look at each other for what feels like a long time. Or maybe it's just a single heartbeat, Eddie can't really be sure.

He watches as Buck swallows, his Adam's apple a calling card.

Eddie isn't entirely sure of why he thinks of that.

Until he is.

When Buck moves his hand, it's to slide it fully onto Eddie's thigh to just sit there, right at home.

Eddie's suddenly blinking so much he's a little worried he might be stroking.

He doesn't mean to say, “Can you smell toast?” but finds himself saying it anyway.

Buck smile is both crooked and adorable.

“You worried you're having a stroke, old man?”

“We'd have been at the same school at the same time, Buck. I'm not that much older than you.”

“You are old and I am young and everyone and the universe knows this,” Buck claims, cocky and sure of himself once more.

Eddie licks at his lips again.

“I, uh, I think I finally believe you.”

Buck now mirrors him, licking his own lips.

Cherry Chupa Chups.

“You mean about the universe?” he's asking, like he doesn't almost always knew what Eddie means.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes.

Buck waits.

Just as Eddie is thinking he really should go put some on some sweats or something, Buck must get impatient because he replies, “I think it always wanted you to believe.”

Eddie doesn't have a clue what time it is, or whether he had dinner or not, or how he got so damn lucky.

“I'm gonna choose to believe, because you believe—and I believe in you, Buck” he says, somehow both sure and unsure of absolutely everything that is to come.

At long last, he finds he is totally okay with that.

“Anyways, I can hear it now,” he tells Buck, “and I'm listening.”

.

unedited; pls be kind!

[regressionschool]

As Tom sat cross-legged on the cozy living room sofa, he struggled to focus on the knitting needles in his hands. Yarn bunched between his fingers, his brows furrowed in concentration. His “teacher” for the afternoon, Sarah, sat beside him with a warm, patient smile on her face, gently guiding his movements.

“See, it’s simple,” Sarah cooed, placing a soft hand over his to help steer the needles in the right direction. “You just loop the yarn around here… then bring the needle through—oh, no, not like that, Tommy. You’re tangling it all up again.”

Tom clenched his jaw and huffed, his face scrunching with frustration. He’d been trying for what felt like ages, but each time he thought he’d figured it out, his fingers seemed to betray him, twisting the yarn into knots rather than the neat rows Sarah was expecting.

“Oh, for crying out loud, Sarah!” he grumbled, dropping the needles into his lap with a scowl. “This isn’t working. I’m just… I’m just not made for this silly stuff.” His cheeks were flushed, and he couldn’t help but cross his arms like a petulant child.

Sarah chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Patience, Tommy, patience,” she replied, her voice dripping with a patronizing sweetness. “Knitting takes focus, and maybe you’re just getting too worked up. Let’s try again, hmm?”

Tom frowned, feeling his pride sting under her gentle, almost mocking tone. He begrudgingly picked up the needles again, trying once more. He barely noticed as Sarah’s hand drifted to his lap, prodding the thick padding of his diaper. He’d forgotten about it, mostly…until now, that is.

With a distracted sigh, he muttered, “I don’t need you fussing over my—hey, are you even listening?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Sarah cooed, pressing her hand gently over his diaper. “You didn’t even notice, did you?”

“Notice what?” Tom barked, the heat in his cheeks intensifying. But as he glanced down, he froze, realizing his diaper was now visibly swollen, a faint discoloration spreading through the material. He must’ve had an accident…again. Right here, in the middle of trying to concentrate.

A surge of frustration and embarrassment washed over him. “Are you kidding me?” he blurted, practically tearing the needles from his hands in exasperation. “This… this stupid knitting and now this—how am I supposed to concentrate with you hovering over me like…like I’m a child!”

Sarah’s eyes softened, a gentle amusement dancing behind them. She placed her hand on his shoulder, giving him a soothing pat. “Tommy, it’s okay,” she said softly, her tone just shy of condescending. “I think someone’s a little cranky because he needs a change.”

Tom clenched his fists, his face burning red. “I’m not cranky, I just—I don’t need a change, I don’t need—”

“Shh, shh,” Sarah cooed, gently rubbing his back. “You’re all worked up, aren’t you?” She picked up a pacifier from the table and, without waiting for permission, popped it between his lips.

Tom’s protests were muffled instantly as Sarah smiled, brushing a hand through his hair. “See, that’s better, isn’t it?” she murmured, her voice as soft and reassuring as it was patronizing. “Now, let’s get you all comfy and cleaned up. Maybe we’ll try knitting again once you’re feeling more like yourself, hmm?”

Tom’s cheeks were hot, his anger fizzling as Sarah continued to pet his hair soothingly. As much as he wanted to keep pouting, the gentle touch of her hand on his back and the steady rhythm of her words seemed to lull him into a strange calm.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Knife's Edge (Human Alastor x Reader)

CW: Knifeplay, stranger sex, smut, creampies, dub con Rating: Adult Summary: Stepping away from the party, you tried to get some are. It's a chance encounter with a dangerous stranger that leaves your dress ruffled, your panties missing and you facing some new facts about yourself. Requested by: @nyx-umbrakinesis

The clicking of your heels against the stone floors echoed down the silent hallway as you fled the party. The skirt of the gown was heavy, hanging down around your hips, swaying with each step. 

It was outdated, and you hated it, but it was the expected style of dress for a high society event.

What wasn’t expected was the man that came running down the hallway toward you, dark brown hair bouncing as he looked over his shoulder. You didn’t know him and he looked terribly out of place. That didn’t make him any less attractive. If anything, the out-of-place nature of his appearance, well dressed but skin a touch too dark for someone who would be invited to such an event, made him even more alluring. 

“Excuse me?” your voice was high, pulled tight with confusion as he swept you up in his arms. “Do I know you?” 

“No,” the man hissed, voice rich and warm. He spun you away from him as he danced, taking a moment to pull from his sleeve the hilt of a blade. Red smeared along the sharp cutting edge.

“Are you hurt?” You asked, gasping as he let the blade fall into his sleeve and taking you into his arms again. 

“You’re going to play along,” the man whispered as he held your body closer. “You’re going to play the part of my prospective partner. If anyone asks, we’re courting and I’ve been with you all night.” 

“I know you,” you whispered, placing his voice. “You’re the radio host- Alastor, isn’t it?” The man spinning you to the music in the hall cursed under his breath in a language you didn’t know but had heard plenty of times in the shops. “Why do you have a bloody knife?”

“Shh,” Alastor soothed, “If you don’t want to get hurt, you’re going to do everything I say. You can play the part of my lover, can’t you?” 

“Did- did you hurt someone?” You watched his eyes sharpen at the question, “Oh god, you did.” 

“No one will believe you,” Alastor said, as he spun you around again and again. “No one will believe that I was here. They’ll think you’re just a silly woman.” 

“What did you do?” You whispered as bodies moved together. 

“I did what had to do,” Alastor said, watching as you softened in his arms slowly. Your relaxation ended as a scream cut through the halls. “Well, that took less time than I hoped.” 

Alastor pushed you, using his body to guide yours back and back until you crashed against the wall. You trembled in his arms, but he could see excitement mixing with fear in your eyes. 

“You like this,” Alastor whispered as he pulled the knife from his sleeve again. “So, I don’t think I need to tell you how imperative it is that you be quiet and play the role of a lover. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“I-” you gasped as his nose ran along the side of your neck, breathing in the soft smell of your skin. 

“I don’t think that’ll be hard for you at all.” Alastor sighed, pressing his body into yours. “I’m going to kiss you now. If you do anything to raise their suspensions, I will kill you, too.” 

The sharp point of the knife pressed against the skin of your neck, an icy reminder of the danger you were in. Alastor’s lips slanted over yours, burning heat in contrast to the cold danger. You stood frozen in his arms as he kissed you passionately. 

Your inaction rewarded you with the biting tip of the knife pressed into where the swell of your breast peeked out from the top of the dress. You gasped as he kissed you, only to have him deepen the kiss. 

The warning had been well communicated. He didn’t have to tell you twice. The rough weave of his shirt, not nearly the same quality as the fine shirts worn by men invited to the party, was warm under your hand. The heat of his skin soaked into it. 

You took in the feeling of his biceps, arm curled to hold the sharp point of the knife to your breast. Your other hand rested on his chest, running up the firm muscles of his chest. 

Eyes fluttered closed as the dangerous radio host stole your kiss. It was wrong, but feeling that cold knife blade pressed against your skin stole your breath in the same way his lips moving against yours did. You wanted more and more if it. 

It was wrong, but you wanted it.

The wall was hard against your back. Alastor pressed into you, kissing you deeper. His lips parted, taking your lower lip between his. He wrapped his hand around your thigh, pulling it up to wrap around his legs as he pressed into you. 

It was scandalous. This wasn’t how one behaved at such events, but… you knew they did. Couples snuck away, got too close in the halls. You wouldn’t be the only ones. The only difference was Alastor was a stranger with a bloody knife. 

“Does anyone look out of place?” Security staff were talking as they walked by. 

“We need to call the police.” The other man insisted. “A man is dead.” 

“Quiet down,” the first man snapped, “people will hear you. If we call now, the party is over.”

“I know but-” Alastor pressed harder into you, stealing any question off your lips as his tongue swept into your mouth. You moaned, the sound traveling from your throat into him as he held you tighter. 

Alastor pulled you from the wall, easily moving you as if you weighed nothing. Then the wall was again pressed into your back, this time a few feet further down the wall. 

“They left,” you whispered as his lips latched onto your neck. “You can make your escape now.” 

“No,” Alastor nipped your neck as his hand left your thigh, “If I leave now it’ll raise red flags.” 

“Oh,” you sighed as the blade, warmed by your skin, moved over your chest, tracing your collar bone. “What does that mean for us?” 

The blade left your skin, something you found you missed as Alastor shoved you behind the curtain. He cut the tie, slicing the rope easily. Then he was kissing you again, lips running over your exposed clavicle. 

“I want you,” Alastor said, bunching your skirts up as the curtain fell around you. It would be clear as day that two people were behind it but no one would see you or what you were doing.

“Sir,” you were unsure what to say, heat rising high in your cheeks at the thought. The blade ran over your exposed thighs. 

“You see,” Alastor spoke into your skin as his other hand cupped your breast, “If you dare tell anyone what you know, you’ll have to explain your absence from the party as well. What you were doing instead of reporting what you know.” 

His hand worked between you, blade slicking through your knickers easily. The fabric fell, ghosting down your legs as he worked the fly of his pants open. The tip of his knife ran against your thigh as legs pushed yours apart. 

“What if I don’t want you to?” The defiance wasn’t present in your voice, though you wished it was. 

The knife left your thigh. Alastor pressed the blade to your neck. You gasped as he ran his fingers through your folds. They slipped, smeared through slick folds. Shame burned at you, each caress of his fingers reinforcing the fact that you did in fact want him.

“Are you a virgin?” Alastor asked, working his cock from his pants. 

“I’m unwed,” you answered simply as his finger slipped into your opening, testing the tightness of your core. 

“So am I,” He laughed, “That’s not what I asked though.” 

“No,” you were shamed to admit it. If it was known, you wouldn’t be desirable on the marriage market and yet you knew the touch of a man. 

“Good,” Alastor kissed you as he lined the soft head of his cock up with your opening. The heavy skirts of your dress bunched between you, held higher as they were pinned between your bodies. “I’d almost feel bad if this was your first time.” 

You moaned, back arching as he pushed into your body. The thick shaft of his cock sank deeper and deeper, spreading you. He was gifted in both girth and size, spreading your walls over him and filling you. 

Every slow thrust into you pulled against your walls. The wide head of his cock ran over the sensitive walls inside you, hitting each nerve. You clung to him, fingers digging into the fabric of his clothes.

“You’re so tight,” Alastor whispered in your ear. Though he was fucking you, the knife remained pressed against your throat. The blade fought for your attention. “Are you sure I’m not your first?” 

“No,” you whispered, “So big.” 

Alastor chuckled, finding it amusing that all it too was to spread you over his cock to have you totally wrapped around his fingers. You would do anything for him as long as he kept thrusting into you. It was shameful, really, how easily the simple act of sex controlled one’s mind. He would never understand it. 

“That’s right,” Alastor cooed, running the tip of the knife down your chest as he pulled the bodice of your dress down, exposing more of your breasts. Women liked that, he knew, being exposed to their lovers. “You’re going to feel so good.” 

“Please,” your back arched, core fluttering as he worked through your walls faster and faster. 

His lips found yours, silencing your moans with a long kiss. The sharp blade ran over the swells of your breasts lazily, catching threateningly on the buds of your nipples. 

Each thrust was faster, harder than the next as he read the fluttering of your walls. You grew tighter and tighter, not needing much stimulation to drive you toward your orgasm. The forbidden excitement of the situation was more than enough to make up for the way he neglected your clit. 

“Are you sure you didn’t see anyone suspicious?” someone asked in the hall as Alastor fucked into your tightening cunt. You were far from the proper woman you looked like. No, you were getting off on the whole situation. 

“No,” another voice carried through the hall. “Just a couple necking. Looks like they’re still there.” 

“You’re so close,” Alastor whispered as he pulled your thigh tighter around his waist. “I can feel your body griping me, begging for more of me.” 

“Please,” you whispered, head falling back as he worked his cock through you again and again, “I’m so close.” 

“Just focus on me,” Alastor whispered, body moving against yours. The blade ran over skin as his lips ran over your neck. “Focus on the feel of me,” 

“Alastor,” you whimpered, body clenching around him. 

“I know,” he shushed, cock twitching inside you as he worked you closer and closer, “I know. I’ve got you. Let go.” 

“Ah-” You curled around him as the waves of pleasure ran through you. “Ah- ah- Alastor.” 

Your body gripped him, core caressing his cock in waves. The sucking feeling of your cunt trying to milk him pushed him over rather unexpectedly. You were just so damn tight; he wanted to remain inside you. 

He knew better. He should pull from your warm, caressing body as his own pleasure crested. With a moan, he thrust into you harder. Each pump of his hips pushed his seed deeper and deeper as he shot ropes into you. It was careless, sloppy, but fuck, you felt so good wrapped around him. 

Each thrust after came slower as he caught his breath. You couldn’t help but admire the warmth of his skin, the relaxed smile on his face as he rode the aftershocks of your orgasm out. 

“There,” he said, lungs working to pull large gasps of air as he pulled back from you, softening cock slipping from your opening, “Now you’ve got reason not to tell.” 

“Where are you going?” you asked as his knife left your skin.

“You have no reason to know that,” Alastor said, tucking his cock into his pants before yanking your dress up over your breasts.

Leaning forward, he kissed you deeply one last time before slipping out from behind the curtain. You stepped out after, only to catch sight of him letting himself out of an open window. 

You were left alone with the memory of the feel of his knife against your skin, the taste of his kiss and the way his cock spread your walls for him. All you had was the memory… and the way his seed leaked from your stretched opening, running unobstructed down your legs as you walked timidly down the hall.

“Where have you been?” Your friend was quick to rejoin your side. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” you answered too quickly, face flushing. 

“There’s blood on your chest,” she whispered, leaning in.

“Oh!” You scrambled to come up with a lie, eyes fluttering up to look out the window just in time to catch sight of a man with brown hair slipping into the treeline. “My nose bled. I must have missed a spot, that’s all.” 

“Go to the powder room then,” your friend pushed you toward the hall. “And clean it up.” 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

[coffeeghoulie]

Ghostober Day #26: Stoned Sex

Much thanks to @kroas-adtam for putting Ghostober together <3

Pairing: Aether/Cirrus

Cirrus always gets painfully sensitive after she cums. Aether wants to try a work around

Explicit, 1.4k. Contains quintessence use/quintosis (because what is quintosis if not a mind altering substance lol), oral sex, and overstimulation.

Divider by @wrathofrats <3

Cirrus cums with a gasp, fingers tightening in long purple hair as her clit throbs. Between her legs, Aether groans appreciatively, his tongue pressed firm and flat to her folds as he drinks her release down. His eyes gleam amethyst as he glances up, and it's electric as she meets his gaze.

"Fuck," Cirrus hisses, her head thudding back against his pillows. Her hair is tangled from tossing her head. Aether doesn't falter, lips sealing around her clit and working her through her orgasm.

Far too quickly, the pleasure turns to uncomfortable overstimulation. Cirrus tries to shove Aether back from her cunt. He growls and grabs her hips firmly, pulling her back to his mouth.

"Not so fast, dearheart," Aether chuckles, pulling back just long enough to lick slick from his lips and nuzzle against her inner thigh. "Or are you tapping out?" No shame in that, Cirr."

She pants, muscles jumping in her inner thigh as Aether scrapes his stubble against it. "You know I need a minute, cosmos."

"Aw," Aether whines teasingly. He pats her hip. "I thought I said I was gonna reward you for taking such good care of the pack while I wasn't with you on the road."

Cirrus laughs breathlessly, knuckles creaking as she loosens her grip in his hair, petting him apologetically. "Yes, I remember," she says. "But one's reward enough."

Aether gives her a boyish smile, his gold fang glinting, and turns to kiss her thigh. "Oh, dearheart. I know you're satisfied with one. But did you think I'd be satisfied with just one? I missed you too, you know. Missed your taste." He licks his lips with a rumbling moan.

Cirrus groans softly. The ebbing heat in her core attempts to rekindle, a spark against wet tinder. Her fingers flex in Aether's mohawk. "I just- Sensitive," she sputters, voice tinging on a whine. She's still a little woozy from her orgasm, apparently the first of the night. Despite her oversensitivity, she's curious where he's going with this.

"I know you get sensitive, honeysuckle," Aether says, and Cirrus melts at just the gentle tone of his voice. She missed him just as much as he missed her. "I can give you time, if you want. Or, if you're game, we don't have to wait."

Her brow furrows, and she's about to open her mouth to ask him what he means when he lifts the hand that's petting her hip. Aether waggles his fingers coyly, and her eyes lock onto the deep violet sparks that jump and dance between his fingertips.

Cirrus laughs, carding her pianist's fingers through his mohawk. "Oh, you wanna dope me up with quintessence so I just have to take it?"

Aether's brow furrows, a look of surprised concern falling over his face. "No, no, not at all, not unless you want that. I, uh, had something else a little different in mind, dearheart."

Her hand freezes in his hair. The air is cool against her cunt, except for the puffs of his breath. Aether keeps talking.

"I thought, if quintessence gets into your brain, can alter sensation and thought. I might be able to get in there and, well, flip the switch in your brain that makes you experience overstimulation. And I could keep eating you out until I thought you were well rewarded for taking care of the pack for me."

"Oh," Cirrus breathes, considering the possibility.

"No discomfort or pain, just pleasure," Aether says, leaning his head against her thigh. "And if you don't want to try it, we absolutely don't have to, and we can call it a night right here and now."

Cirrus ponders, hand idly moving in his hair. He chuffs, pressing up into her touch, his eyes not leaving hers. "I don't see why not," she hums, chirping as Aether's face lights up in a grin.

"I knew you'd want to give it a whirl," he chuckles, nuzzling her thigh. His stubble scrapes pleasantly against sensitized skin, and she shivers. "If anything doesn't feel right, dearheart, you know how to get my attention?"

She smiles fondly down at him, scratching his scalp with blunt claws. "Yeah, cosmos. Stoplight or snap."

Satisfied with that answer, Aether rewards her by mouthing at a mark he's left on the inside of her thigh. He noses at the downy feathers that trail down from where they cover her mound, inhaling her scent. "Alright, sweetheart. Deep breath."

Cirrus complies, eyelashes fluttering as she feels the staticky sensation of quintessence seeping into her nervous system. It creeps up to her brain, familiar. It feels like him, and she shuts her eyes and relaxes back against his pillows.

"Oh, dearheart," Aether chuckles, not unkindly. His hand goes back to her hip, tracing an arc with his thumb. "Feeling good already?"

Cirrus lets out a low hum, feeling the discomfort melt away from her body. "You sure you're not just making me feel good, Aeth? Feels nice."

"No point in making it feel bad," he teases, thumb not stopping its repetitive motion as he focuses on the pleasure center in her brain. "But no, there's no extra pleasure. Just a little nerve block. For lack of a better term."

She hums again. Her fingers idly pet through his hair, a soothing little motion as her body relaxes. "Well, whatever you're doing t'me, feels good."

He laughs warmly. "You think you're ready to keep going, dearheart?"

"Yeah," she smiles back at him. Her hand gently pushes, no more than suggestion, at the back of his head.

Aether rolls his eyes playfully, but leans back in. He licks a slow stripe from the bottom of her entrance all the up to the highest point of her clit.

Cirrus's eyes shut again, a soft sigh slipping past her lips. When she feels Aether freeze, waiting, she pries them back open to meet his gaze.

"How's that feel?" he asks, his hands shifting to hold the meat of her thighs just hard enough to dimple her grey skin. "Any discomfort?"

"None at all," Cirrus says, a relieved giggle slipping past her lips. "By all means, keep going."

"As you wish, dearheart," Aether grins. He leaves a trail of kisses up the inside of her thigh before planting one directly on her clit just to feel her squirm. His eyes soften and unfocus then, jaw working as he laps at her.

Cirrus moans, loud and unashamed. One hand grips at the back of Aether's head, tangled in his hair, and the other fists the sheets under her.

Aether groans into her cunt as she pulls his hair, eating like a man starved. Distantly, behind the waves of sensation washing over her, Cirrus is surprised at how easily the pleasure comes. Especially with how little it's been since the last time she came. "Fuck, just like that."

He rumbles low in his throat, and Cirrus's toes curl as his voice vibrates through her entire body. Every inch of her skin feels tingly, but not in any way unpleasant. Especially not where his lips wrap around her clit and suck.

If he hadn't said that he wasn't using his quintessence to pleasure her, Cirrus would accuse Aether of using it to push her over the edge. She's never cum so quickly twice in a row in her entire life, and it's just as much a crashing wave as her first. "Fuck!" she cries out, so loudly she knows somebody else in the ghoul wing had to have heard it. Her fingers tighten painfully hard in Aether's hair.

He doesn't protest or pull back to breath. Aether only spares her an upwards glance to watch her chest heave before rededicating himself to working her over.

The aftershocks sputter through Cirrus's body, and she tenses in anticipation as they peter away. But the discomfort never comes as Aether keeps licking at her folds, sucking on her clit like her taste is candy.

Cirrus groans loudly, her head lolling back, as she realizes Aether's little trick worked. Her hips rock up against his lips and tongue, and his fingers tighten around her thighs as he keeps eating. His breath comes in hot little puffs through his nose, ruffling her down, sticky with her release and his spit.

"Aether, oh fucking Lucifer, Aeth," she gasps, not loosening her grip in his hair. Cirrus almost cums again as she feels him grin against her cunt.

[dyns33]

New life

!! SPOILERS - Careful, Venom The last dance spoilers here !!!

I was wondering while watching the movie if that would give me new ideas for Eddie and his tiny alien, and yes, yes it did.

When Y/N had met Eddie Brock in a New York cafe, he had hesitated at first before accepting her into his life.

It had taken him several weeks to open up, talk to her, understand that she liked him, and then admit that he liked her too.

Once he had offered her his trust, he had explained why to her. Really explained everything, adding that he understood that she thought he was crazy and that she would decide to run away from him when he was done.

First, he had completely ruined his career and his relationship with his fiancée Anne by being selfish and stupid. For a long time, Eddie had refused to see the truth, making excuses, but he had to admit that it was all his fault.

Then, there was Venom. The alien symbiote who had brought as much joy as problems into his existence, before sacrificing himself to save him, along with the rest of humanity.

"He was my best friend." he said, trying to hold back his sobs. "He could be annoying, but I wasn't a gift either. We were supposed to see the Statue of Liberty together, but… Well. I miss him a lot. It's weird not hearing from him all the time. It's hard without him."

Not only did these revelations not scare Y/N away, but she found herself even more in love and touched by this wounded man who was doing his best to move forward despite everything he had been through.

Like a wild animal, it took a little more time to reassure Eddie that she really loved him and especially that he wasn't going to lose her.

For their first date, he offered her an ice cream, not far from Lady Liberty. Y/N took his hand, to support him, but especially so that he knew that she wasn't going to try to make him forget Venom.

Just because they were together didn't erase everything he'd experienced with his alien parasite friend, who was a lot like a boyfriend when he told her all their stories.

"Nah, just a friend."

"You said you loved each other."

"Like buddies."

"You had arguments as a couple. He was jealous and protective. You gave him chocolate on Valentine's Day."

"Once ! And to keep him quiet. And the rest was just a symbiote thing."

"You admitted to me that he 'took care of' your erections when he was in full form. Why did you have erections anyway ?"

"… Shit, I was in a relationship with Vee."

He cried again, in shock. Not because he was ashamed, but because he had not understood the nature of their relationship, much more intense than simple friendship. He did not blame Y/N for opening his eyes, as she did not hold back from doing so, thinking that it was necessary for him to grieve properly.

Several months passed, life continuing in an excellent direction.

After using his contacts and abilities, Eddie Brock had become a formidable reporter in New York, even if he was a little more careful about his methods and the people he wrote about.

In his private life, he made Y/N very happy, learning from his past mistakes to become the best boyfriend possible. No secrets, no lies, no manipulation to get information for an article. They were not in symbiosis, but almost.

Much more relaxed and open than before, he kept his calm in most situations. Even when they had some cockroach problems. Or rather one cockroach problem.

"It's still there." Eddie noted while drinking his coffee, observing the insect that was partially hidden behind the couch.

"Do you want me to call someone ?"

"Nah. He doesn't hurt anyone, that little guy. We don't leave food lying around, we throw out our trash. No point in staying here or calling his friends. He must be lost, he'll leave eventually."

"What if he thinks you're so cool that he tells the others to come over just so he can watch you sleep ?"

"Eww, babe, gross. Listen, if he's still here in a week, I'll take care of him. But it must be a neighbor with questionable hygiene who has a colony, he'll go back there."

The cockroach stayed, but like Eddie had said, he wasn't that much of a nuisance. Most of the time he was nowhere to be found, otherwise he stayed in his corner.

Strangely, he showed up when the couple was together, as if he was waiting to watch them. His presence was still abnormal, in addition to being possibly dirty, so Y/N decided to take matters into her own hands, trying to get him out.

"I know you're the most impossible thing to kill on this Earth." she said to the cockroach that was hiding under the closet. "And besides, Eddie decided he didn't want you to die, so let me put you in this jar, I'll take you to a landfill, and you'll be the happiest little cockroach, okay ?"

Of course, the insect wasn't ready to cooperate, putting itself as far away as possible, in an impossible place to reach. It was ridiculous, but Y/N had the impression that it understood perfectly what she was saying.

Eddie found her on the living room floor, her hand under the closet, trying for several hours to catch it.

"Need some help ?"

"Thanks, Eddie, it's between him and me now."

"Poor little thing that has no chance against someone stronger than them. Accept that he's winning."

"You're hilarious. He's staring at me without moving, he's making fun of me, it's personal. I'm pretty sure I saw him smile."

"You been upside down for a long time, babe ?" he asked as he sat down next to her, rubbing her back. "Come on, I'll take care of it, I'll get rid of the horrible monster."

"No, Eddie… Please…"

It was probably the first time someone had dropped their shoe to cry and try to hug a cockroach, but Eddie being an extraordinary man, Y/N was only half surprised. Same thing when the insect started talking again, small tentacles coming out of it to wrap around her boyfriend. She had thought she had imagined that voice.

Losing its dark color, the creature was thrown out the window, while the tentacles remained around Eddie, before disappearing, as if absorbed by his heart. Then an alien head appeared near his shoulder.

"Wait… Is that Venom ?" she asked, a bit lost. "You told me he was dead."

"I thought so too ! Last time, he was just exhausted but still inside me, but this time… Vee, I thought I'd never see you again !"

"Eddie… I told you it wasn't goodbye. It took me a lot longer than I thought to find you. Cockroaches are tough, but their legs are tiny, not as fast as a horse. And then… I saw you with your new love. So I didn't know if you'd want me to come back."

"But of course I…"

Remembering the discussion they had had, Eddie turned to Y/N, as if he was scared. Now that he knew the feelings he had for his symbiote, without ever realizing it when they were together, it was embarrassing to say that he wanted him back while he was in a relationship with her.

Maybe Venom had insisted for a long time that he get back with Anne, because it seemed to be the key to his host's happiness, but then there had been no one between them.

The alien didn't know Y/N. He had spent several days observing her, seeing if she was good enough for his Eddie, and after accepting that she was a suitable partner, he had wondered if he wasn't going to ruin everything by showing himself.

After all, Eddie had often said that it was his fault that he had lost everything. Venom didn't agree, he knew that most of his host's problems were the result of his bad decisions, but maybe he had turned his life upside down a bit, forcing him to give up certain things for him, like Vee had given up certain things to please him.

A relationship was certainly one of those things. With Anne, it might have been possible since she knew about the symbiote, but someone new ? That would have been hard to sell.

"You told her about me ?" Venom realized as he stared at Y/N. "Weren't you ashamed ? Didn't you repress your feelings because of the stupid social conventions that say men should be strong and insensitive ?"

"Of course I told her about you. I made a lot of resolutions after… After. I wanted to honor your memory, while being honest with Y/N."

"That's good, Eddie ! You're a little less of a loser !"

"Thanks, buddy, so nice."

Poor Eddie grimaced, probably accepting that this insult was a compliment, but Y/N quickly understood that there was a parallel, silent discussion going on between them in his head. She could easily guess that Venom was wondering if he would be able to stay, if she would leave because of him, or worse if his host would have to make a choice, which would make him unhappy.

Ensuring the happiness of his human was so important to him that the symbiote would have been ready to stay hidden under their couch, to be close to him without risking disturbing him. Who could hate such an adorable alien ?

"If we don't adopt chickens, and we buy lots of chocolate, I guess cohabitation won't be impossible." she smiled shyly, before they found the courage to ask her opinion.

"Babe ? Really ?"

"You really chose well, Eddie ! She might even be too good for you !"

"Thanks Vee, really super nice again. But babe, are you sure ? He can be… We are… You can say it if you find it weird."

"It's weird, but it doesn't bother me."

Almost every day, Eddie kissed her tenderly, in the morning, before leaving for work, when entering their apartment, when they went to sleep, but he had never been so passionate when he kissed her at that moment, repeating that he loved her.

As if he had been there forever, the alien had surrounded them with his tentacles in an attempt of a hug, commenting on the scene that he considered the most beautiful and romantic thing he had ever seen, even better than in his favorite telenovela with Maximiliano. He immediately ordered them to watch it when Y/N told him that she didn't know who he was talking about.

Not as invested, Eddie fell asleep on the sofa, keeping her in his arms and snoring lightly in her neck, while Venom explained the previous episodes to her with great excitement, as if everything was normal.

[rheanyraaaa]

Water Lilly Part 4

Enemies To Lovers

Robb Stark x Frey!Reader (F)

summary: Robb & You married via forced/arranged marriage between Starks and the Frey’s, yet the two of you refuse to get along.

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The wind howled outside the tent, a bleak reminder of the late autumn chill that had settled across the camp. Inside, however, there was only silence, heavy and strained as you sat on opposite ends of the space you now shared with Robb. He was sharpening his sword, the steady scrape of metal against stone echoing like an accusation in the quiet. The air between you felt thick, weighted with everything unsaid, each one of you refusing to break first.

For a while, the only sounds were the crackling of the small fire and the rhythmic rasp of Robb’s whetstone. You could feel his eyes flicker to you every so often, though whenever you glanced up, he looked away, as if he could barely summon the interest to even meet your gaze.

Finally, he spoke, his voice rough and detached. “How is the child?”

The question caught you off guard. It had been so long since he’d asked you anything directly about the baby. Not even bothering to look up from your seat, you answered curtly, “Well I’m just a few weeks now. No visible bump yet, but the healer says it’s developing well.”

Robb merely nodded, his expression unreadable. “Good,” he murmured, his voice flat, almost as though he were discussing the state of his armor rather than the life of his unborn child. The lack of feeling in his tone sparked something angry within you, and before you could stop yourself, you felt the words slip out.

“Don’t pretend to care if you don’t,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “It doesn’t make you sound noble. If you’re uninterested, you could simply say nothing.”

Robb looked up, his blue eyes narrowing as he studied you with a mixture of irritation and something close to surprise. “I’m trying to show an interest, my lady,” he replied, his voice cool. “Would you rather I pretend the child doesn’t exist?”

You scoffed, setting down the small embroidery piece you’d been working on in an attempt to steady your nerves. “What difference would it make?” you asked, fixing him with a steady glare. “You spend more time planning battles and with… your healer than you do with me. I’d think I was a ghost if not for your hand on my stomach at meetings.”

A flicker of something crossed his face defensiveness or even guilt but it was quickly masked. He set his sword down, running a hand through his hair as he looked back at you with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “I have responsibilities,” he said, as if that were excuse enough.

“So do I,” you replied, unwilling to back down. “Or do you forget that I’m here against my will as well, playing the dutiful wife to a man who doesn’t want me?”

His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer, the shadows of the tent dancing across his features, casting him in a harsh, almost unforgiving light. “You’re here because your father made an agreement, not because I chose this,” he snapped, his voice low. “And forgive me if I’m distracted by the task of keeping us all alive.”

“And I’m here because I had no choice either,” you shot back, rising to meet him, unwilling to be looked down upon. “I didn’t ask for this marriage, this… charade. But you could at least pretend to care for appearances, or does that take too much effort?”

Before he could reply, a voice called from outside the tent.

“Lord Stark?” It was one of Robb’s commanders, a grizzled man with a scar across his cheek and a stoic expression that seemed permanently etched into his features. Robb exhaled, stepping back and shaking his head as though to clear his frustration.

“Enter,” he called, his tone clipped. he stepped in, his eyes briefly glancing between the two of you with a look of concern.

“Apologies for the intrusion, but there’s news from the south,” the man said, his tone grave. “Lannister forces are moving, and they’re cutting off supply lines through the river routes. If we don’t address it, our men could be starved out before winter’s end.”

Robb nodded, his expression hardening into a familiar mask of focus. “We’ll meet in the command tent. I want a full report.”

With a quick bow, he left, and Robb turned back to you. The tension between you remained, thick and unresolved, but there was something almost pleading in his gaze, as though he wished to say something but didn’t know how.

“If you want to join us, you’re welcome to,” he muttered, his voice softer. It was as close to a peace offering as he could manage.

But the idea of sitting in that tent, at his side as he strategized, his cold demeanor, a reminder of the distance between you, was more than you could bear. “No, thank you,” you replied curtly. “I think I’ll find my own company more pleasant.”

Robb’s gaze darkened, a flash of frustration flaring in his eyes, but he said nothing more, only turning and leaving the tent without a backward glance.

The silence he left in his wake was oppressive, and despite your anger, a pang of something lonelier, sharper, cut through you. Alone, you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the emptiness in the tent like a second skin.

The hours passed slowly, and evening fell. You took a walk through the camp, trying to ease your mind, but everywhere you went, you felt eyes on you, whispers trailing in your wake. The men respected you as Robb’s wife, but you could tell they sensed the distance between you two. Some even looked at you with pity, others with confusion, unsure of the bond they assumed must exist between the Stark lord and his Frey bride.

Eventually, you found yourself at the healer’s tent, where Talisa was working over a soldier with a nasty leg wound. You paused in the doorway, watching her ease his pain with a touch far gentler than the one Robb had ever shown you.

Talisa looked up, her gaze meeting yours. For a moment, she studied you, a quiet empathy in her eyes, and you wondered if she knew the nature of the rift between you and Robb.

“My lady,” she greeted, her voice warm and steady, but with an undertone of awareness. “Is there something I can help you with?”

You forced a polite smile. “No, thank you. I was just… walking. I thought I’d see how things were here.”

She nodded, sensing your discomfort, and returned her attention to the soldier. It was no secret that she held Robb’s favor, nor was it hard to see why. She was kind, assured, capable in ways that made you feel inadequate, a reminder of the gap between you and your husband.

Feeling restless, you returned to your own tent, wondering how much longer you could keep up this performance. But as you stepped inside, you were startled to find Robb already there, waiting.

He looked at you, his expression unreadable, though a flicker of something softer crossed his face.

“What is it?” you asked warily, crossing your arms.

He hesitated, the silence stretching between you until it grew almost unbearable. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. “I know this isn’t what you wanted,” he said, surprising you with the uncharacteristic vulnerability in his tone. “But I’m trying to make the best of it.”

You regarded him, the bitterness in your heart softening just a fraction, though your voice was still guarded. “If you’re trying, it’s a poor effort, Robb. You treat me like another pawn on the board, something useful only when it suits you.”

He looked down, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “This isn’t easy for me, either. I didn’t want to marry for alliance or duty, but here we are.”

The words hung between you, an uncomfortable truth neither of you had admitted aloud before. For the first time, you saw a glimpse of the boy behind the hardened lord, the man who perhaps hadn’t asked for this life of war and responsibility but had it thrust upon him.

——————————————————————————

Tags!!

@samieree @maysileeewrites

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

"I want you there ..."

Tech Grief Ficlette

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Warnings: Sad, Grief.

Summary: A grown up Omega has some news for an old friend.

WC: 661 Read on Ao3

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Omega’s boots crunched along the gravel of the familiar path. It had been a while since she had trekked back to Pabu, now the sea breeze danced about her, caressing her cheeks like a welcome from an old friend. 

Her portfolio case swung from one hand, the familiar broken goggles from the other. She was almost never seen without them. Today though, she was heading to a special place on Pabu… the place she came to talk while she finished growing up. Talk to him. 

The cliff line finally broke, giving her a gorgeous view of the sunset. Brilliant orange, just like the amber glass in her hand. She sat at the rocks edge, opened her portfolio and with a sigh, slipped on the goggles. 

She hit record. 

“Hey, Tech… it's been a while, I wanted to update you on what I've been up to…”

It had been forever since she talked to him like this, panic and dread had set in one day when she realized the internal data storage was running low. She didn't want it to loop and record over anything but today was worth talking to him… formally. 

She pulled out the first etching, a dark umbra alive with bonfires and crude little drawings of people. 

“I've been doing well with the rebellion, we won an important skirmish a few months ago, Partied after harder than Hunter says you guys did… but I guess he might have down played what you boys got up to…”

She trailed off, stroking the figures around the little fire, just to have her hand come away black with sooty medium. She furrowed her brow, and wiped her fingers on her pants before drawing out another sketch. 

“This… well, I was trying to design a call mark for the hull of the marauder… nothing really worked out,”

There were over a dozen half finished figures with exs through them, and scattered notes. It wasn't what she was really after. She looked more carefully through her etchings, finally pulling out one of a full body figure. Their back was on full display and every detail and shadow had been filled in lovingly. 

…

“I'm getting married soon… it's gonna be here, on Pabu. I met them out there and well, life is short on the battlefield… you know that more than any so…”

A lump was starting to form in her throat but she swallowed the old pain gracefully, continuing. 

“I'm planning on wearing your goggles… so you can come to, I just wanted to give you a heads up before… before you were just, walking me down the aisle… I hope that's okay,”

It was nonsense, but it always felt like putting his goggles on and pressing record… it was like Tech could open his eyes again for a brief moment. 

“I was always gonna wear them anyways… Hunter insists he should be the one to walk me, but Wrecker said it was unfair and I think it upset Crosshair too… they're taking turns now. Hunter starts, Wrecker in the middle and Cross'll finish it… but you'll be with me the whole time… I want you there…”

She stopped the recording and whipped the goggles off, squeezing her eyes as a few hot tears grazed her cheeks. It had been a long time since she last cried for Tech, but the heightened stress of the past few weeks left her vulnerable to the old wounds. 

I'm sorry, I shouldn't have insisted we go, it's my fault…

She caught the thoughts there, releasing them with a shaky sigh as the cycles of grief lit through her for the life that should have been. Thoughts she'd never be rid of even though she knew they weren't true, almost a comfort that she could still feel his absence so greatly… that she never forgot. 

Catching her breath, she checked the remaining storage. Only a few hours left… 

I hope this is okay … I want you there. 

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[bucked-it-up]

I finally have some time and think about what happened in the episode and also in a way this season as a whole. This is probably going to be a ramble mess and I’m sure i will get some info incorrect as i am mainly doing this off of memory, i also haven’t fully read the post episode interviews but i know the gist of them. Now with that disclaimer out of the way I’m gonna just blurt my feelings out.

One. I want to start that personally for me the season has felt off from the beginning but particularly from after the opening episodes, i felt like the pacing was off and disjointed. I enjoyed the episodes don’t get me wrong but yeah something just has felt off for me writing wise, everything seemingly has been resolved quicker and easier than i think anyone thought it would be

Two. Might as well get into the meat of why i am rambling about my feelings. 806. Well it was certainly an episode. The miceli bucktomy scene that we have all looked forward to since we knew it was happening just immediately felt off. It was their 6 months? But yet Tommy seemingly got buck a present that didn’t fit what he has said about basketball at all in the past and to me felt dismissive as i was watching it. Buck taking a picture of the girls felt odd to me the tension about it idk just wasn’t for me but that part of the conversation could have led to interesting turmoil and lead to more stability. The Abby of this part. My first reaction was Ew. I was never one for the spec that Tommy was Abby’s ex never felt right and didn’t click but I would’ve been okay with it if it was handled differently. Tommy felt dismissive towards why Abby would be upset about a 2 year Relationship where they were engaged, like she had every right to be hurt and react maybe in a way you didn’t expect or like. While this led to a good speech from josh and gave buck the information he needed to know he would be happy in the relationship even if tommy had been with Abby and he understood why tommy did what he did or at least accepted it.

Three. The Break Up. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT! They both express a want for a long term relationship and tommy decides that no that’s not what buck wants? And it also feels like it goes against him wanting a family somewhere to be and they were showing that he was becoming a part of it in 805. Just what was the characterisation in that scene? They weren’t the buck and tommy i know. Him saying buck? Like fuck you writers. You could have written a break up in so much more of a respectful way, handled it so much more respectfully not apparently doing 805 the way it was just to make 806 hurt worse. You had such a beautiful peace of representation on your hands and you just fucked it up.

Four. What i know of about the interviews. As said above ive not read them. I’m not in the right place to right now but i do know the gist of them. Why do you want buck’s character development to just fall back to season 1 buck, Oliver? Why? Tell me why it would make sense. Buck has shown longing for a long term relationship from the first hook up of the show. He didn’t sleep around after Abby who was his first transformative relationship as he said and tommy was he second major one again something that buck said. So why Oliver would he choose to fuck around? Why?

Five. The Eddie and Buck scene at the end. I will admit i didn’t properly watch it because i was too sad and that scene felt like someone had just rubbed a whole load of salt in the wound. I find out then from my friend that they had buck come over to eddies while he’s doing that pantless dancing and has shaved. Feels like bvddie ship bait not gonna lie. Would buck go to Eddie after a break up? Yes he would they are best friends why wouldn’t buck go there. But why couldn’t the scene be different, have it come at it from a different way.

Six. I dont know if I’m going to carry on watching the show, i have no nope for bucktommy coming back but if you do I’m really happy for you sincerely i would like some of that hope tbh. If i do watch it i will probably watch it after hearing spoilers.

Finally, I’m not reading this through so pls ignore any small mistakes but if you do want to correct me on something please do it kindly and politely. I love you all, my inbox is open if you need to rant somewhere and please take care of yourselves.

[kyoteugly]

If not Buddie, why Buddie shaped? #2

Following my theory that season 7 and 8 are new seasons 1 and 2 on abc, where the writers revisits the big events from character’s pasts and retells them (you can read it here) I want to look closer at new episode 8x06 “Confessions”.

This is all fresh in my mind, I watched the episode like 4h ago, there is a chance I’ll miss something.

Like I said, I think we’re going to see at least 4 more big moments revisited (or rather the emotional state those events invoked) from previous seasons before Buddie goes canon. Kitchen scene, well, will and shooting arc. And one of those happened in this episode! But also so many other things! 

EDDIE:

Starting with Eddie in the confessional. I can’t help but see his fight club era here (call me bias, I love season 3 Eddie so much!). An attempt to find a healthy outlet to his emotions. He’s struggling and fighting with his inner demons, this time instead of rage it’s sadness and loneliness. 

And he is doing it with an outsider's help. Father Brian is like Lena Bosko. Why Lena and not Frank? I think Eddie would just shut on therapy at this point. He needs someone to talk to, someone with opinions and advice, caring enough to want to help but also not afraid to go straight to the point and call his bs - Lena and Father Brian did just that.

Ok. Time to revisit a big event from Eddie’s past - the well. ABC put the call with the little boy trapped in a pipe in episode promo as the red herring. The real purpose of this call was to remind us about the Eddie Begins episode. The important thing from Eddie Begins is that Eddie was alone in the dark pit - and in the end he saved himself. 

So the real connection between those two episodes is not in the call where 118 saves the little boy, but between Eddie coming out from underwater, drawing a deep breath and Eddie shaving a mustache, shedding his mask and dancing, breathing fully again.

sorry for the meme, I'm tired

It’s also interesting that the moment Eddie allowed himself to feel joy Buck knocked at his door.

BUCK:

This one is pretty straight forward. Like I said before, Tommy represents Abby - a transformative relationship - like Buck said himself. The fact that Tommy was engaged with Abby is a really beautiful way to further connect and close both relationships. What leads to the break up from Tommy’s side is also similar. Tommy knows he would fall deeply for Buck, and Abby didn’t come back because she knew she would lose herself in Buck. They were both protecting themselves.

And here is also a little parallel to Ali. Like her, Tommy offers Buck a proper and honest break up, showing maturity, understanding and clear reason why. And yes, Ali was also protecting herself, ending their relationship before they broke each other's hearts.

And one more thing from Buck’s side. The whole Abby thing throws him off. Maddie tells him it’s not a big thing, Josh tells him not to judge Tommy (honestly, Josh’s speech is amazing!) - this calms him down in the end, dating the same woman doesn’t feel awkward anymore. But the questions Josh is asking leave Buck confused. Taking the next step, moving in together - it’s like Buck is trying to prove he really feels those things Josh was talking about (or maybe even compensate for his “freak out”, confirm he’s fully into this relationship). And on some level Buck has those feelings, he cares about Tommy, but more than that, he simply feels he should be on the level Josh suggested and he wants this to work. It’s Buck’s impulsiveness coming to play, an action that causes reaction in a form of big gesture to confirm his feelings - a nod to his relationship with Taylor.

Fortunately Tommy explains those feelings to Buck (and to the audience) in a very kind way. 

Honestly, their relationship (the last two episodes especially) was handled beautifully, without unnecessary drama, without too much spotlight. It started with fireworks, naturally progressed and faded gently.

The cherry on top: Evan meant something more, something special for Tommy. Ending his goodbye with Buck means “we’re friends now”.

BUDDIE:

There are two things here I want to mention.

Ever since Gerrard separated Buck and Eddie this is the episode where we can see them working together as partners again. And this finally wraps up the divorce era.

The ending scene represents different scenes for each of them, ending different arcs.

For Buck the couch scene represents Abby’s comeback in season 3. He watched her ride off in the ambulance with her fiance (with Eddie solid by his side), and later he got closure from her.

For Eddie this scene represents him being embraced by the 118 after he dug himself out from the well. He’s connected again, no longer alone. 

And of course, the most obvious and sweetest thing - it’s the right couch (and they finally drink that beer).

Bonus MADNEY:

Couldn’t help but notice some revisits here.  Maddie’s postpartum depression is addressed very clearly, nothing to add here. During the pandemic Chimney stayed at Buck’s place, afraid to put pregnant Maddie in danger of catching the virus. Something happened on a call that changed his mind, made him overcome his fear and enjoy the future with his family. The same in this episode. But there is a little twist here and it involves brothers. In season 7 the new audience learned about Kevin. Guess who wasn’t yet introduced (and also took care of Maddie during the pandemic)... yes, I believe this season we will see Albert again. 

That’s it for now. Let me know if you want more posts like this. Feel free to contact me if you want some clarification or just to talk.

Tagging some people who may be interested (if you want me to remove you from this post let me know): @buddiebeginz @stagefoureddiediaz @lemotmo @inell

[sortasirius]

"Confessions" and the Beginning

Hello fellow clowns, genuinely fucking unbelievable episode amiright?

FIRST OF ALL, welcome back Bobby's hot priest, missed u bitch.

I really did miss just like regular calls last season, it's nice just to have a random silly one to start an episode.

GIRL I MISS CHRIS AS MUCH AS EDDIE DOES RELEASE HIM FROM HELENA DIAZ'S CLUTCHES!!!!

This man is going through the most insane confessions of his life. First Bobby saying he's a murderer and now Eddie saying that his son caught him with his dead mother like give this man a break lmao.

"I don't deserve forgiveness, I gotta go."

And this is the beginning of Eddie's thesis: what he deserves. More importantly, what he thinks he deserves.

Buck is literally like the most awkward man alive. He has zero game I love him sm.

Bitch. ABBY???? FUCKING ABBY?????? SHE IS BUCK'S SHANNON, CONSTANTLY HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE.

"I wonder how many men she turned gay" Maddie is Abby's number 1 hater (besides Eddie lmao)

"Unless there's another boy" JOSH PLEASE!!!!!

The Glee reference Tim Minear you will pay for your crimes lmao

It's interesting that he didn't even seem to consider taking the next step with Tommy until Josh brought it up. Also really interesting how he ends up framing their conversation later, like it's more of an "honoring Tommy" thing than a "I really want to move in with you" thing. Now this could just be awkward scripting or awkward (no game) Buck, but I think it's worth mentioning.

I just love Chim and Maddie so much they are my true north always.

Eddie's tank top? Yeah make that an everyday look for him good lord.

"I'm straight" YEAH SURE JAN WHATEVER YOU FUCKING SAY.

He's punishing himself by not choosing the juice because he doesn't think he deserves it, because he doesn't think he's allowed to take it... He is the obstacle in his own joy. What is that joy? What is he standing in his own way of?

"Because the LAFD doesn't allow beards."

"So it's a disguise?"

"Something like that."

SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!!!! HELLO?????

"What are you afraid of seeing when you look in the mirror?"

"A failure. Someone that doesn't deserve forgiveness. Or joy."

I'm literally beating my fists on the ground. It's textbook. Fucking textbook. He's hiding from himself, hiding himself from himself, hiding from his joy.

Nothing like 911 to give you the most insane gutwrenching side plot of all time when I tell you I was SOBBING over those two brothers. (To be fair it's been an extremely hard week).

"I'm the himbo" HE IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!!!!!

Look let me just get this out of the way: I really loved bucktommy. I liked their dynamic and I liked what he was able to teach Buck about himself, but I think Tommy is ultimately right: he can see the writing on the wall, just in the same way he said "my attention?" in 7x04. He was Buck's first queer relationship, but he will not be his last. And I think Tommy has an idea who his last will be, even if he kept that part to himself.

I do think it was kind of an insane speedrun at the end there, I'm not sure why he couldn't just ask Buck to pump the brakes instead of fully breaking up with him.

It's also just a complete manifestation of Buck's greatest fear: abandonment. Abandoned by his parents, abandoned (through no fault of her own) by Maddie, abandoned by Abby, by Taylor, and now by Tommy. It sucks for him, and I hate it for him and for Tommy, who also doesn't seem to think he can have good things, and would rather beat Buck to the punch than actually take the risk and be vulnerable.

I think that this was a good learning experience for them both, and I think they'll both be better for it in the long run.

"I'll see you around, Buck" killed my ass.

MADNEY BABY MADNEY BABY MADNEY BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And lastly, Eddie shaving off the mustache, his barrier from joy, and dancing around his house in his underwear. Finding the joy in being himself, finding the joy in his life again. And Buck knocking on the door, not asking any questions, and them sitting together on the couch, shoulder to shoulder each of their respective "barriers" gone.

They have some things to figure out, but we are so close that I can taste it, I can feel it.

I haven't felt this way since the last season of SPN, and while that didn't turn out the way I wanted (due to network and Robert Singer's meddling), I am confident that that is not where we're heading here. Tim Minear is back. The show is on the Shonda network. Buck is out and Eddie is on his way there. Gay Eddie. Buddie endgame. It's happening, and nothing will get me out of this clown car.

[darkmatilda]

╰┈➤ the pumpkin reaper

epilogue

previous parts:

1 2 3

in which you and reid are visiting your brother in hospital after he tried to commit a suicide

tw: mention of a suicide attempt

contents: spender reidxfem!bau!reader, it's an epilogue, please check the previous parts if you missed them!

words: 3.1k

You couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth, but they did. And what’s more, they were sincere.

It was late in the evening when you were heading back to the office in Quantico. No case ever ended with just catching the unsub – after that came the long hours of report writing and paperwork. After everything you’d been through, the team almost forbade you from taking on that task. Instead, they insisted that you go straight home and get some proper rest.

You rolled your eyes and nodded, like a child whose mother insists they zip up their jacket. Hotch was nowhere to be seen, Morgan was listening to music with his eyes closed, Emily and JJ were absorbed in their conversation, and Rossi… well, Rossi was doing whatever it is Rossi does. So, you reached for the case files and tucked yourself away in a quiet corner of the jet. You wanted to go over everything again, even though you knew that as soon as you saw Logan's photo, all the unpleasant memories would come rushing back with relentless force.

 But before you could open the folder to the first page, someone simply took it from your hands. You looked up to see none other than Reid—blue shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up, a look of perpetual sleeplessness, his usual worry, and… joy. Small, but noticeable.

You, too, were almost disturbingly happy. Escaping death filled you with a mood akin to the high after smoking two joints back-to-back. Of course, it would only last for a brief moment; by tomorrow, you’d likely be tossing and turning in bed, plagued by nightmares. A familiar pattern.

"I don’t even want to see you trying to work right now," Spencer said, taking a seat next to you and placing the folder beside him, just out of your reach. Or at least far enough that you’d have to put in some serious effort to grab it—and your sore ribs had no intention of letting you do that.

"Then what do you suggest I do?" you asked, rolling your eyes. "I don't want to sleep."

"Kafka on the Shore?" he suggested.

"I've already read it. By the way, what was the deal with the soldiers and the hut in the woods at the very end?"

"Well, that's an element that leaves a lot of room for personal interpretation."

"Thanks for the explanation, that told me a lot," you chuckled. You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to get more comfortable in your spot, but the movement triggered a wave of pain. You hissed.

“They should have kept you in the hospital for at least one night,” Reid said, suddenly straightening up. “Do you need anything? There might be some ice around… or I could just leave, and you could lie down…”

“No. You’re staying,” you decided firmly. He raised an eyebrow at your abrupt response. You quickly followed up with an explanation. “Well, I’ve finished reading my book, and you took my files. So now you’re responsible for my potential boredom. It’s your duty to entertain me.”

“Yeah” he agreed with a smirk “It’s my duty” 

"So, how do you plan to do that? Are you going to dance? Sing? Juggle?"

"I can't dance or sing, and I don't have anything to juggle. Is it enough if we just talk? Or is that too common of an entertainment for you?"

You pretended to think for a moment.

"Fine, I guess."

"Then what are you planning to do when you get back?"

"Visit Jeremy."

"Oh, right, sorry…”

"Come on," you interrupted, waving your hand. A moment of silence followed as you hesitated before speaking again. However, you remembered that you had decided to stop staying silent about your worries and problems, at least in his presence. "It's just... it really stresses me out. I don't know how I should talk to him, I'm afraid I'll panic when I see him..."

Spencer cleared his throat before answering. 

“That... can really be tough,” he said, not bothering to lie or reassure you that everything would go perfectly. “But hey, remember that he’s probably looking forward to seeing his big sister. Even if you start talking about something you think is silly, he’ll be happy just to have you there.”

He made you smile, though the corners of your eyes began to gently dampen. You wiped them discreetly, not wanting to burst into tears on the jet.

"I hope you're right. And I hope he doesn't hate me for not being there for him..."

You stopped, feeling him take your hand. You realized you had been clenching it into a fist for quite some time.

"I don't know Jeremy, so I can only guess how he'll react. But I'm sure of one thing—he definitely doesn't hate you."

For a long time, you simply stared at your hand in his warm grip. Your fingers relaxed, releasing the tension that had been between them, becoming limp yet yearning for the touch.

"Spencer," you said suddenly, taking a deep breath. "I don't know if I can ask you this... but... you've been there for me this whole time and... okay, I’ll understand if you say no, but... would you maybe... want to visit him with me? I don't know if I can do it alone."

You waited for his response, your heart beating faster with each passing moment. Maybe it was too much? Maybe you shouldn’t be asking him for something like this; maybe it crossed the line of your acquaintance? Just a year ago... no, even a week ago, you never would have imagined you’d be begging anyone for something like this. You would have forced yourself to do it alone, ignoring your fear.

He simply smiled.

"Of course, you can ask me to do that. And I'm glad I'll be able to accompany you."

*

The sound of quickly pressed keys echoed as you gave the hospital receptionist your brother’s last name.

The stark whiteness of the place and the blinding, intense light felt like a scene straight out of a horror movie. The thought of seeing Jeremy soon made you tremble. You had so many questions for him, including why he even tried to take his own life, but you knew you couldn’t ask them just yet. He didn’t need an interrogation to satisfy your curiosity; he needed support.

You were so overwhelmed at the thought of seeing him that you shifted impatiently from foot to foot. You felt stressed but also excited. After all, he was your little brother, and you missed him. Standing beside you, Reid smiled slightly, noticing your behavior. If you were hurting him by squeezing his hand as tightly as you could, he didn’t let it show.

"Who are you to the patient?" the receptionist asked.

"His sister."

"And you?" she turned to Spencer.

"A frie—" he began, probably intending to say friend.

"Fiancé," you interrupted, quickly offering a word that began with the same letter. You worried that if the woman found out he wasn’t connected to you or Jeremy, she might ask him to stay in the waiting room. You didn’t expect him to go into Jeremy's room with you, but you wanted the reassurance that he’d be right outside, not on the other side of the hospital.

Reid pierw spojrzał na ciebie jak na wariatkę. Próbowałaś mu niemo przekazać, aby włączył się do twojej desperackiego przedstawienia. Na szczęście, niesamowicie szybko zrozumiał o co chodzi. 

“Zgadza się, narzeczonym. Basically, mężem. Bierzemy ślub…jutro” zaimprowizował, kiwając głową z takim zaangażowaniem, jakby sam wierzył w te wyjaśnienia. “Cóż, w zasadzie to nie jutro, a za dwa dni, ponieważ jutro niedziela, a my jesteśmy katolikami. W naszej religii zniechęca się do zawierania związków małżeńskich w ten dzień, ponieważ jest to dzień Mszy Świętej…”

Reid first looked at you like you were crazy. You tried to silently signal him to join in on your desperate act. Luckily, he caught on incredibly fast.

"That's right, fiancé. Basically, husband. We're getting married... tomorrow," he improvised, nodding with such conviction that he almost seemed to believe it himself. "Well, actually, not tomorrow, but the day after, because tomorrow is Sunday, and we’re Catholic. In our religion, 

“Darling,” you gritted through your teeth, seeing the receptionist’s confused expression.

“In any case, I’m very close to the patient,” he emphasized.

If he said anything more, you would’ve nudged him with your elbow.

“Well… in that case… the patient is in room number fourteen. It’s that way…” She pointed in the right direction. You thanked her with an overly wide smile. “And… congratulations.”

“God bless you,” Reid said as he waved goodbye.

You quickly turned around, so she wouldn’t see your burst of laughter. As soon as you were out of the receptionist's sight, you hit him on the back so hard that a woman with a cast on her arm almost dropped her coffee. He laughed, and you awkwardly tried to hide how much the whole situation amused you as well.

“If I had let you say one more word, she wouldn’t have let either of us in,” you complained. “She would’ve thought we were freaks. Religious freaks. Or maybe point us to the psychiatric ward.”

“Hey, I’m not the best actor. You should know that,”

“I didn’t know. I’ll remember for next time, though I’m not sure if there will ever be another situation where you’ll need to pretend to be my husband.”

"Fiancé," he corrected. "You decided that yourself."

"Basically a husband. You decided that yourself."

You didn’t say anything more, only grabbed the edge of his coat sleeve to slow his pace. You were standing outside room 14, right in front of the door. You didn’t even peek inside; you weren’t ready to see Jeremy just yet.

“I need one more minute,” you whispered.

“Take all the time you need,” he replied gently.

 The playful mood that had accompanied you both was gone. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you stood on tiptoe and began adjusting his poorly tied scarf. 

“Sorry,” you muttered under your breath. “It’s been bothering me since I saw you.”

"I'll wait for you here, okay?" he asked quietly. Because you were so close to him, he barely had to raise his voice at all. "Jeremy doesn’t know me, I don’t want to just show up unannounced..."

“Are you coming in or what?”

You turned around, startled, to see none other than Jeremy. Lying on the hospital bed, poking at a container of chocolate pudding with a spoon, and most importantly, awake. 

At first, you were surprised, but soon emotion took control of your body, and you ran to him as if he were about to disappear.

"Oh my God, I can finally see you..." His shirt, which you hugged tightly, muffled your words.

"The pudding spilled on your jacket."

"I don't care."

He chuckled into your hair, holding you tighter. You stayed like that for a moment, desperately holding back tears. If even one had surfaced, you would’ve fallen apart like a child.

ou pulled away after a long time, immediately noticing that his eyes were also filled with tears. However, he quickly wiped them away with his hand. Still, he was a sixteen-year-old boy, and crying in front of his sister felt like public humiliation for him, a shame that would last forever. You tried to do everything you could to avoid looking at his wrists. Both hands were wrapped in bandages, and from the conversation with your father, you learned that they had put in a lot of stitches. You focused on looking at his face—young, similar to yours, with the same blue eyes.

"Are parents visiting you?"

He shrugged.

"Father, surprisingly, more often. Mother drops by irregularly and talks about strange things. Apparently, our neighbor's dog has worms, and it really pisses her off. My mother, not the neighbor. Though, probably the neighbor too..."

You didn't know why you started crying.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." you mumbled, your words slurring. “I should have gotten here earlier, and I didn’t. I regret so much that I didn’t, I’m sorry. I should have been here the moment you woke up.”

He didn’t say anything, letting you lament. Finally, you wiped away the last tear, then apologized to him about eighteen more times. You sat together in silence for a moment, busying yourself with wiping the dirty jacket. He wasn’t joking about the pudding.

“How are you feeling?”

He shrugged.

“Tolerable, I guess. By the way, who was that guy who came in with you?”

You turned toward the entrance, but Spencer was nowhere to be seen. He must have sat on one of the chairs outside the room, and knowing him, he’d probably started reading some medical brochure.

“A friend,” you replied briefly. “I hope it doesn’t bother you that I brought him... It’s just…”

You didn’t know how to explain that you couldn’t have made it here without support.

“He works for the FBI too?” he asked, suddenly curious. “Would he tell me more about the job than you do?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, pretending to be dead serious.

“I won’t let him tell my little brother any graphic details.”

“I’m not a kid!”

“To me, you are, and always will be.”

He looked like he was holding back from sticking his tongue out at you.

“Call him,” he asked. “I’d love to meet your friend. Is he a friend, or a friend?”

“Jeremy, you’re ridiculous…”

But you fulfilled his request. Spencer stared at you with wide eyes when you told him that your brother wanted to see him. As he entered the room, he almost tripped over... probably his own feet, since there was nothing else to trip on. And that’s how the rest of the visit went, the three of you together. Jeremy alternated between complaining about the hospital food and bombarding Reid with questions about absolutely everything related to being a profiler. He had always been fascinated by it, but after everything that had happened to you, you couldn’t, with a clear conscience, recommend that job to him. Spencer had been explaining everything in detail to him, and for the next hour, you almost felt like an intruder in their private conversation, which amused you instead of offending you.

Spencer left a moment before you, giving you a chance to say goodbye to your brother privately. When you finally released him from your embrace, promising you'd come back tomorrow, the same nurse who had spoken with you at the reception entered the room. She was checking Jeremy’s condition as you headed for the exit.

“Wait,” she suddenly said. “I think your husband left his scarf.”

She held up the purple scarf, indeed Reid's. You were about to thank her and take it when you noticed Jeremy’s mouth hanging open, and with horror, you realized what she'd said.

"Forgive me, dear sister, but what the fuck?”

*

“So, he’s convinced that we had a secret, spontaneous wedding that you didn’t tell him about?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

In reality, Jeremy had probably realized immediately that there was a misunderstanding, but he just couldn’t pass up the chance to tease you. He would likely bring it up again for the rest of your life. You were also worried that you'd get an angry phone call from your mother asking why you didn’t mention your “wedding,” but overall, you were content with how the meeting went.

You both walked together in an unknown direction, neither of you sure when you should part ways or if you even wanted to. You didn’t want to, but you had no idea about him. The weather was much better than in the town where you had spent the last few days. The fewer trees meant that autumn wasn’t as pronounced. It was only present in the chilly, gusty wind.

"If you don't have any plans, how about going out to eat?" you suggested.

"Sure." Reid agreed immediately, and the corner of your mouth twitched at the speed of his response. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Well, anything. There's a good restaurant on the corner of this street... Oh, God, I just remembered, I owe someone dinner as a thank you."

"Dinner? As a thank you?" he repeated with a strange look on his face. Before he could say anything else, he caught himself and snorted. "Interesting. Just curious, is it someone I know?"

"Oh, you know him." You continued with a barely suppressed smile. "Do you remember James Rivas? The forest ranger?"

Reid literally stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Dinner? With him?"

"That's right. Well, he saved my life, so I guess I owe him that."

You were shocked when you learned how your team knew where to find you after you were kidnapped. The bunker Osborne took you to was unknown to the local authorities, hidden deep in the forest, far from any paths. When the rumor spread through the town about who was responsible for the murders and that an FBI agent had been kidnapped, the forest ranger showed up at the police station. He revealed that he knew the place where you might have been held because, as a child, he used to go there with friends, including Logan Osborne.

But of course, you had no intention of taking him to dinner. You just wanted to laugh at Reid's reaction.

"You're absolutely not owed anything by him!" he blurted out with emotion, a hint of anger in his voice. "If he'd only remembered that he knew about the existence of some bunker, you wouldn't have been kidnapped in the first place. You wouldn't have had to go through that hell, and I wouldn't have been losing my mind the whole time, not knowing what happened to you. Plus, have you forgotten what an awful person he is? He's arrogant, self-absorbed, and full of self-admiration—do you really want to have dinner with someone like that...are you laughing?"

He furrowed his brow, completely confused by your reaction.

“God, Reid, I was just joking! I’d rather die than spend another hour with that jerk. Especially voluntarily,” you explained, laughing between words. Something in his remark made you smirk. “Were you really losing your mind when I was kidnapped? “

“You’re impossible," he snorted. “Where’s that restaurant?”

“Wait, don’t change the topic and answer my question”

He simply looked at you, tilting his head to the side.

 “Isn’t it obvious?”

taglist: @miriamnox @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @nightfullofparadox

thank you everyone for reading <3

[riding-with-caryl]

One week on from the Season Finale airing, and I can't stop thinking about all the beautiful Caryl scenes we got in those final 3 episodes once they were reunited. There were so many scenes that I'd been hoping to get for years. It was a feast worthy of a Royal Banquet.

The reunion, obviously. That goes without saying, really. The raw emotion that poured out of them both, the sheer relief that they were together. The undeniable feeling that in those few moments, everything was right with the world. The fighting going on around them falling away until it was just them. It topped Terminus for me.

The bickering like an old married couple while they were fixing the car. That was so much fun and something I'd wanted to see them do for a long time.

The entire section with Didi and Theo and Carol and Daryl's interactions with them and with each other. Especially the sweet glance they shared when Didi and Theo started dancing.

Carol immediately understanding why Daryl was so frantic after Isabelle's death the second she realised the person Isabelle asked Daryl to take care of was a child and that the child might be in danger. The way as soon as she understood that she knew exactly the right thing to say and what Daryl needed from her to be able to calm down and think straight. It was a really beautiful moment between them.

The fun convo they shared about high school French classes.

Daryl being protective and not wanting Carol to go in on her own to Ash and telling her she didn't need to take dumb risks and then her quipping back about how did he think she found him. Then Carol having to come clean and admit she had lied to Ash and Daryl immediately killing the sibling narrative once and for all by him immediately worrying she told Ash he was her brother, like that was the worst thing he could think she could have said.

The fact they are finally talking about stuff is everything. It's been such a long time coming & was very much needed. I loved how they handled that side of the story and to see Daryl being exactly what Carol needed him to be.

It had everything from humour/comedic moments right through the spectrum to the deep emotional scenes, and I loved it all. Some of my favourite Caryl moments ever have come from these 3 episodes, and I'm truly grateful to David Zabel & Jason Richman for writing them, and I'm excited to see what they're writing for season 3.

[bam-bi-buck]

911 8x06 SPOILERS

I was looking for my phone so I came to my moms room at 8:01 and my mama said “his wife took his mom” and I was like oh dang and was then it was an urn 🙃

When he dropped the urn my mama went “there goes your fortune… and your mama” lmao

Eddie really put this priest through the ringer, his expressions: ↘️↖️↗️↔️

Your son, your best friend hmmm?

You deserve forgiveness Eddie 😭 promise

Madney second baby!!!

Did they fix the “mama” from Jee? It sounds better than the sneak peek I think

Buck is such an awkward duckling

I love you

Some Himbo? I know where this is going

“Abby Clark”

My mama “WHAT!!? i-i-ie, that’s not something you want in common”

“Like a root canal with lawyers” 🤣

I’m literally traumatized

Just his guts 🤢

“I’m dying and this shirt is ruined”

Mama “that’s what you’re worried about?”

I wonder how many guys

“She didn’t bring her business to work” glances at Maddie “Unlike some other people” Josh 🤣

I know you tell Maddie everything too, don’t even

Maddie is so confused by Josh’s speech 🤣

I get what Josh is trying to say but there’s a difference between being in the closet and getting engaged to someone knowing you’re not into them

Chim 😭

Was it worth it the last time - damn Maddie

Maddie take off your jewelry!

That look on Maddie’s face - “omgod she’s pregnant”

My mama “how do you know!?”

“Did you not see the look on her face?”

Me glancing up from the floor to see her scrolling on her phone

“No”

Me “Hmmm”

Oooh the priest was behind Eddie in line

“Why did you denied yourself the juice”

I love you Father Brian

I am loving this discussion between Eddie and Father Brian

We can’t take care of others if we don’t first take care of ourselves

That little look back 🤣

My mama “Jacks in the hole!”

Aww these brothers 😭

Chim wants another baby 🥺

Buck, you’ve been dating six months, why are you asking him to move in 😭

Here’s the thing Bucks been my boy since 1x01 so I’m really sad that what he said looks like it’s gonna stick with him 😭

Ngl it was a jerk move for Tommy to say it so definitive like that, Bucks definitely gonna internalize it

(Also movies were not good luck for them huh?)

Chim & Maddie 🥺

I love them

I love them being so open and honest with each other

They’re gonna have another baby 🥹

Rip mustache - you made things funny 🫡

Love the dance (mom had to tell me it was a reference to risky business lol, will prob look up that scene on YT later lol)

Eddie feeling joy!!! 🥹

Buck going to Eddie 🥺

Also mom could not get over Eddie not putting on pants

I was like “Buck’s probably seen everything already taking care of him after the shooting”

And she was like “would you open the door to (friend) in your bra and undies”

And I was like “nooo but I’ve never take care of (friend) the way Buck has sooo”

Also (friend) and I are not whatever Buck & Eddie are lol cuz they are not typical besties (they love each other 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨) (& I don’t get out enough to find a 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩)

Anyways! What an eventful episode!!!

Can’t wait for next week!!! 👀

[novacorpsrecruit]

To be your everything, your final

On Ao3 | wc 1,451 | fix it fic/missing scene

Tommy hated this club. He didn’t know why he was here. Why he would be willing to come back. It was too loud. The lights flicked a little too much for his liking. And the drinks were never strong enough.

But here he was, a Coors Light in hand as he leaned against the bar, watching as men intertwined with each other on the dance floor. Maybe he will find someone tonight to help distract the ache in his gut.

It’s been one month since the break up. Since he broke up with Evan — Buck. One long month of quiet nights. It took him a week before he could get a decent night’s sleep. He couldn’t unsee Buck’s expression drop when he said those final words: “Are you breaking up with me?”

Tommy wished he could take it back, take back all the hurt Buck felt, but deep down he knew it was a fleeting relationship. He wasn’t meant to be Buck’s last. He wasn’t meant to be anyone’s last.

He needed a distraction. He needed out of his endless loop of mindlessly wandering between the hanger and his empty apartment, lacking all reminders of Evan thanks to Eddie who swung by a few days after the break up to retrieve Buck’s belongings. (Tommy didn’t have the heart to joke with Eddie about his newly shaven face, and Eddie looked like he didn’t have the patience for jokes). Before Eddie left, he gave a final look and drove the knife in Tommy’s gut, twisting it like a bad horror movie. “He was serious about you, you know,” Eddie said with a nod. “He just — he’s never been like this before. This serious, I mean. He’s always been ready to jump head first — but this was different. See you around.”

Tommy knew that was a lie. Eddie was Buck’s friend first — his best friend. They could lie to each other all they want, but this created a divide between them — between the new friends he made with the 118 — because they weren’t really Tommy��s friends, were they? They were Evan’s.

The guys at the hanger knew something was up. One of them commented that he reeked of heartbreak. That he needed to get back out there. Find someone for the night, that maybe that someone could turn into the one.

But that was supposed to be Evan, wasn’t it?

So here he was, back “out here” or whatever, sipping on the Coors Light looking for someone that catches his eye. He raked the dance floor, watching as men twist and grind against others, the way the strobe lights flash against their faces, catching raw emotions lost in the dark of the club.

Oh.

A familiar face flashed in the light, leaning back against a bigger man, his hand pressed against the other’s jaw as he leaned in, words hot against the younger’s ear.

Tommy didn’t realize he got up until his hands were clutching Evan’s shirt, pulling him away from the other man.

“Tommy?” Evan blinked, looking at him like a confused puppy. It was cute — he was cute — until another blink and the confusion melted to anger. “What are you doing?”

His breath smelled like alcohol. Eyes red, as if he’s been out all night, or fighting back tears. “We need to talk,” Tommy half shouted, trying to be heard over the music. “Please, Buck.”

“That’s not my name,” Evan pulled out of Tommy’s grip. He pushed past Tommy, walking to the bar. Tommy followed. Evan raised his hand to catch the bartender’s attention. “Rum and coke!”

Tommy quickly shut that down.

“Oh no, Captain Morgan,” Tommy said. “You need something better. Two waters.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Evan turned around, spinning so fast that he almost lost his balance. Tommy shot his arms out to stabilize Evan. Evan smacked his arm, more playful than anything. Tommy raised his hands in front of him. Evan’s brow furrowed, a scowl on his lips. “Why do you think you know what’s good for me? You don’t, Tommy.”

Tommy looked up to see the bartender placed cups of water by them with a look that said ‘Good Luck.’ “I think you could use the water.”

“Why do you care?” Evan snapped. “It’s not I mean anything to you, right? That I was just something fun along the way. I’m never —“ there was a hiccup. A hesitation over words like a speed bump that Evan couldn’t face.

“Buck —“

“That’s not my name,” Evan snapped. He picked up the water and took a sip, eyes closed as he shook is head. “Not to you.”

“Evan, I do care about you,” Tommy said softly.

“Funny way of showing it,” Evan rolled his eyes. God. Tommy missed his sass. He missed this. He missed Evan Buckley.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Tommy said. “I shouldn’t —“

“Be here? Yeah,” Buck scoffed. “I don’t get it. You broke up with me. You tell me to see other people —“

Tommy frowned. “I didn’t say that —“

“No, but you might as well!” Buck all but slammed the water against the bar. Tommy flinched, grateful for that plastic cup. “I come here to forget about you, and you forced your way back into my life! You told me we weren’t meant to last, so what are you doing, Tommy?”

“What am I doing?” Tommy frowned. “I’m saving you from poisoning yourself with alcohol —“

“Oh, ain’t he a hero?” Buck sneered. Tommy barreled on.

“I’m making sure you’re getting home safe—“

“So call the damn Uber,” Evan frowned. Tommy made no effort to pull out his phone and open the app. That’s not what he’s here for. Not really.

“I’m apologizing for —“

“Breaking my heart?” Evan interrupted. “Making me feel like this was all bullshit? That you didn’t love me like I loved you —“

The words hit Tommy like a train. Like hitting the breaks too hard, the seatbelt jerking you back to safety, away from the windshield. ‘Like I loved you.’ “What?”

“For once, I thought this was it,” Evan said, his voice still loud and harsh, but there was a look in his eyes that said he was on the edge of tears. “That this was meant to last. That we were meant to last. For once — for once I thought someone loved me back. But I’ll never someone’s final, will I?”

Tommy cupped Evan’s face, his thumbs swiping across his cheeks, catching the fallen tears. Evan closed his eyes, his hands wrapping around Tommy’s wrists, almost as if he was in defeat, no fight left in him. “Evan, you were my everything,” Tommy said softly. “I was so afraid of losing you, that I pushed you away myself. I can’t give you what those girls at the restaurant can. I can’t give you what Abby could. And I saw you on the dance floor with that guy and — I was jealous. And I’m sorry that I hurt you. If I could take it back, I would in a heartbeat, Evan.”

There was a moment of silence between them, as the world around them was quiet, despite the loud music and the flow of bodies trying to get to the bar and order a drink. But for now, it was just Tommy and Evan. “You did though.”

“What’s that?” Tommy asked.

“You did give me what Abby gave me,” Buck said, a soft frown painted across his face. “Heartbreak. Feeling like we were meant to be, that for once in my life I was doing something right. The only difference is that you said goodbye.”

Tommy felt his gut sank.

Sure. Maybe moving in together scared him, afraid that if he moved in with Evan, that it wouldn’t last. But part of him wondered about if Abby had made him happy. That if he would live in Abby’s shadows, second to her always. But that wasn’t the case, was it? That Tommy jumped the gun, thinking the other shoe was dropped when Evan sincerely loved him.

“You loved me?” Tommy asked. There was a look across Evan’s face, that felt unreadable. It used to be so easy to read Evan … what happened?

“I still do,” Evan said softly.

Tommy leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Evan’s forehead. “Evan, if you allow me to, I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you know that you are loved. That I love you, too.”

Evan pressed his forehead against Tommy’s shoulder, his breath hitching around a sob. Tommy wrapped his arms around Evan, holding him tight. He wasn’t going to let him go. Never again.

“We can talk again in the morning,” Tommy said. “Let’s get you home.”

[iwahajii]

breaking the boundaries

dares and unrequited love should never be mixed with alcohol.

tags: fluff, kind of sexy, unrequited, pining, mutual feelings, a tiny bit of angst

It was the stupid, stupid dare. Iwaizumi thinks as he watches you make your way towards the dance floor, right in the middle of the crowd. The flashing lights make it hard to see clearly, but he tried his best to focus his eyes on you.

You don’t have to do it, he tried telling you a while ago but you weren’t listening, already stubborn and tipsy to be your usual rational self.

They were only teasing, the same as they always did with the two of you. He wondered what reason Makki had to push your buttons tonight, more so than he ever did in the past. The culprits, Oikawa and Hanamaki, already scurried away, following right after you in the dance floor. Mattsun who didn’t join in the teasing stayed in the booth with him, drinking and smoking, but Iwaizumi knew that despite his silence, he was just as invested in this dare as the other two. His smirk behind his glass was the only hint Iwaizumi needed to confirm his suspicion.

He was an hour late to your get-together and by the time he arrived, Hanamaki was already drunk, Oikawa not too far behind and you trailing off the other two. Iwaizumi could only sigh as he slid on your booth, taking the empty seat beside you.

“Remember when you confessed to Iwa-chan in high school?” Oikawa blurts out of nowhere and Iwaizumi knew he needed a drink fast.

“Oikawa,” he warns.

You groaned, but Iwaizumi could see you laugh slightly. “Oh god. Please, don’t remind me.”

Oikawa cackles and high-fived Makki.

“That was horrible, wasn’t it?” You asked, turning to Iwaizumi for the first time that night but before he could reply, you continued. “I shouldn’t have done that. Now these idiots won’t let me live it down.”

I shouldn’t have done that.

Iwaizumi felt a twinge in his heart upon hearing those words, but he numbed it down by drinking his glass of rum.

“They’re idiots,” he consoles.

The memory of that time flashed in his mind. It’s scary how vivid he can remember it, how you looked back then, how you said the words he wanted to scream at the world, and how he had to break both of your hearts because he was going to UCLA.

“At least we’re still friends,” you declared. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

You turned to him again, a soft grin on your lips as you bumped your shoulder to his. The brief touch sent a wave of electricity down to his toes, but he couldn’t dwell on it because Makki started running his mouth again.

“Well, if all’s well that ends well, I think you’d be up for a dare,” he mused.

“And what do I get if I win?” You challenge, already caught with his bait.

“Let’s see,” Oikawa hums. “It has to be what you really, really want. How about if… we never talk about your confession to Iwaizumi?”

Iwaizumi watches you pause, clearly surprised at the reward. The memory of that time was like a bane to your existence, used by the trio to tease and blackmail you at times.

“What’s the dare?”

“Nope. You have to say yes first before we tell you what it is,” Makki says.

Iwaizumi opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“Deal.”

He turned to look at you, taken aback by your decision. “You don’t have to do this,” he says.

“If it means we can all move forward from my dark history, I’d take it,” you answer. Looking at Oikawa, you asked, “What do I do?”

“I dare you to hook up with someone tonight.”

There was silence for a while and Oikawa spent the whole time looking at you with challenge in his eyes but you weren’t backing down.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

Iwaizumi wasn’t sure if he heard you right.

“Don’t be stupid,” he tells you but you were already shrugging off your cardigan, revealing the dress you were wearing.

“Here,” Makki says as he slides a shot of vodka in front of you. “So you don’t get scared.” He teased, chuckling as you shot it back.

“I’m no coward,” you haughtily say before standing up and Iwaizumi’s breath gets caught in his throat as he sees your clothes completely for the first time that night.

The only problem with the dress was that it was an inch shy of being indecent and it hugged all the right places and you looked good-hot, gorgeous, amazing, but Iwaizumi had to snap out of it because you were friends.

He was the one who said those words six years ago.

When you asked him to stand so you can get out of the booth, everything in him wanted to protest, wanted to hide you away from everyone so no one can see you in that dress, but he willed himself to stand and make way for you.

He knew then he was fucked.

Iwaizumi feels himself panic when he loses sight of you from the crowd. His panic turns to something… bitter and green as he watches a stranger whisper close to your ear and you laughed.

Fuck.

Forcing his eyes away, he refilled his glass and downed the whole thing before closing his eyes. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine now, could feel the dull, heavy pounding in his head, probably because he’s still adjusting from the difference in time zones.

“If it means anything to you, she rejected me,” he hears Matsukawa say.

Slowly, Iwaizumi opened his eyes to look at his friend. His heart pounded in his chest, a thousand questions flooding his brain but he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

Why? Why are you telling me this? You liked her? How could you?

His last thought made him laugh. Iwaizumi reached for his empty glass, shaking his head as he laughed at himself and how much of a hypocrite he is. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I ran away.”

Matsukawa sighed and leaned back in his seat. “We all know she would’ve waited.”

“I couldn’t do that,” he counters. “I would never make it to UCLA if I accepted her confession back then and she would never forgive me if I stayed.”

It was a confession Iwaizumi never told anyone. He wanted to bring it with him to his grave, his biggest what if and his greatest regret, but it was freeing to say it out loud. He could feel the weight off of his chest lessen now that his secret is shared with one trusted soul.

He thought about how he lived off of your encouragement and support during his stay abroad, finding comfort in your messages despite how seldom they came with how busy you both were. He was worried at first but it didn’t become awkward between the two of you given what happened, probably because of the physical distance.

He wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for you.

“She’s still in love with you,” Mattsun says.

Iwaizumi watches as Matsukawa raises his middle finger, mocking whoever he was looking at and Iwaizumi follows his line of sight, landing on you and the stranger from before.

Upon seeing Matsukawa flip you off, you threw your head back and laughed.

Iwaizumi watched as your head meets the stranger’s chest and you laughed again at whatever he whispered in your ear. He could see your bodies sway together, moving in unison as the man slides a hand to your waist.

It honestly felt like his heart is being smashed to pieces inside his chest.

Your eyes turn to Iwaizumi, and you held his gaze for a second too long before turning away fast.

Leaning back in his seat, he thought about the what ifs and could haves between the two of you. He loved you. Loves you. Always. What if he accepted your confession, would you survive the long distance? What if he didn’t go to UCLA and went to Tokyo University with you instead, will the two of you be happy? Time was never on his side then, but will it be now? If he risks it all now, will you accept him?

“Shit!”

The loud curse from Matsukawa interrupted his pity party. Raising his head, he turned to see what Matsukawa was looking at and his eyes landed on you arguing with the man you were just dancing with, more like grinding with, he bitterly added, seconds ago.

Iwaizumi bolted out of his seat and walked right into the pool of sweaty bodies faster than you could blink, his eyes never leaving you as you continue to argue with the stranger.

“I told you a million fucking times not to touch me,” he heard you shout just as he reached the circle you were now making in the middle of the dance floor.

The man shook his head, laughing in disbelief. “You were practically begging for me to touch you. You kept on sticking your ass whe-“

Screams erupted at the same time Iwaizumi feels a sharp pain shoot up his arm. He was breathing hard, his body taut as a wire because of the sudden anger raging inside him. Whatever the man was supposed to say, no one will ever know because Iwaizumi broke his nose before he could utter another word. He watched as the man clutched his bleeding nose while groaning pitifully on the floor.

“Fucking idiot!” He heard you say before he felt you pull him, dragging him away before he could contemplate inflicting further physical harm.

As the two of you passed the exit of the club, you were on his face yelling at him. “What the hell were you thinking?! Someone could’ve recognized you!”

He could hear you speak, rambling on and on about how much of an idiot he was but all he could think about was that man’s hands on you and before he could stop himself, pulled you to him and placed his hands on your waist.

At this distance, you’re wrapped up on his cologne and combined with the alcohol, the only thing on your mind is to take it all in, to breathe in his scent and to bask in his touch. His hands were larger, firmer and warmer than the stranger’s hands. And they felt perfect there, on your waist, meant to never touch anyone else’s.

But reality hits you like a truck and you pushed Iwaizumi away.

It was like a punch to his stomach and it left him breathless, reeling from the tangle of emotions he was feeling. He knows he’s scared shitless right now. Scared of letting himself be this vulnerable, scared of the fact that maybe he’s too late but what he doesn’t want to even think about was the possibility of losing you in the aftermath of whatever is going on between you two.

“We need to talk,” he tells you.

He tentatively reached for your arm, afraid that you’d run away again.

When you turned to look at him with red, glassy eyes, Iwaizumi could only take a shaky breath before running a hand through his hair.

Words were flooding his brain in that moment, each word fighting over the other to be said first, but he was like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth, unable to get the words out so he let instinct take over and crashed his lips to yours.

The first touch was light, tentative and scared, with his hand cradling your cheek as seconds passed, the two of you stuck in a limbo of unsaid words and restrained emotions. He could feel the knot in his stomach disappear when you didn’t push him away, and feeling a dose of courage fill his veins, pulls you closer with his hand on your back as he angled your face to deepen the kiss.

It was exhilarating and he felt braver, bolder because you were kissing him back with the same energy, the same hunger he felt, your lips matching his every move. He gasped when he felt you tug on his hair, and you used this as an opportunity to slide your tongue in his mouth.

Sweet fucking Jesus, Iwaizumi thought. He could feel the goosebumps in his skin as he trembled at the sensation of your mouth. You are the sweetest thing he ever tasted and the tinge of bitterness he could taste from the alcohol was just as addicting.

Iwaizumi knew this kiss was far from romantic, not at all what he imagined he’d do if he would ever be given the chance to kiss you but it was perfect. It was passionate and desperate, exactly how he feels in that moment, exactly how he feels about you. He never wanted to stop, he wanted time to stop, freezing the two of you in that moment but you jumped away from him when a car horn blasted beside you.

“You getting in or not?” the cab driver yelled from inside the car.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath. You were breathing heavily, hair disheveled from the way Iwaizumi was weaving his hand through it during the kiss and you were looking at him with the same heat, the same hunger pooling in his own stomach.

Before you could protest, Iwaizumi pulls you to get inside the car with him following closely. He rattles off his address to the driver as the taxi drives away from the curb.

He watches you fidget in your seat, your hand raised as you bit your nails but he took your hand and entwined your fingers with his to stop you.

There was only silence between the two of you during the car ride but he knew you were as restless as he was, heat prickling under the skin and eager to touch once again.

The two of you dashed inside the building and the elevator doors just closed when Iwaizumi pins you to the wall, his lips crashing into yours once again in another intoxicating kiss. Both of your hands are now buried in his hair, pushing and tugging as you kissed him back. His hands are everywhere, touching and pulling you closer and closer to eradicate any space between you.

Thank heavens there was no one else in the elevator.

As the box slowed to a stop, Iwaizumi practically carried you out as he led the two of you towards his door. It took him four tries to open the door because he was so distracted with you kissing his jaw.

When he got it to open, he drags you inside and kicked it close. Iwaizumi expertly maneuvers the two of you around his house all while keeping you close to him the whole time.

You feel the air whoosh out of your lungs when he throws you on his bed, him quickly chasing your lips once again as he joins you in bed.

There were no thoughts in your head at that point, all your senses zeroed in on him as you bask in the feel of his weight on you, a guttural moan escaping your lips when his hips met yours.

And that’s when Iwaizumi shuddered as alarm bells rang in his head.

This isn’t supposed to happen.

This isn’t how it was supposed to happen.

It’s not as though he had it all planned out with roses and candles nor was he particular with details, but this is wrong. You’re drunk and he’ll be damned if he took advantage of that.

“We should stop.”

“What? Why?” You asked, hands still roaming on his back and he shivered when you kissed his jaw. “It feels good.”

He definitely did not have to hear that. It took all of his willpower to control himself and not kiss you again when your lips are busy leaving trails on his neck. He pushed himself up to look at you, definitely also a mistake because seeing you on his bed, your hair disheveled, cheeks red and lips swollen, something inside him snapped and he mentally debated whether he was a masochist for doing this to himself.

What broke him out of his trance was you suddenly sobbing, face scrunched up as tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Shit. What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” He frantically asked.

“You’re an idiot!” you wailed as you sat up, hands furiously rubbing on your cheeks. “I did everything to make you like me and now you don’t even want to touch me because-because I don’t know why! I hate you, you insensitive gorilla!”

Iwaizumi was dumbfounded at your words. He knew you liked him back in high school but he didn’t think you’d keep your feelings for him even after he rejected you. He knew how stupid it was to let the love of his life go but he didn’t want to put the two of you in jeopardy because of his plans.

You were trying to punch him now, your fists clenched but all they were doing was thumped on his chest and even though you were already snotty and tear-stained, his heart still thrashed in his chest, screaming that you are the most beautiful person in the world.

He would’ve kissed you then, except you cut his train of thought with “I think I’m going to be sick” before proceeding to puke all over yourself and into the duvet.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

The next morning, you get woken up by the loud ringing of your phone and you swiped at it, knowing that the familiar tone is dedicated to Oikawa and he probably has some gossip or whatever to be calling you this early in the morning.

Cheers and laughters erupted from the speaker and you squint at the bright screen, finding the trio with shit-eating grins plastered on their faces.

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi groggily mumbles behind you, before pressing the red button and throwing your phone down to the floor.

Deciding to continue sleeping, you closed your eyes and pulled the soft covers up to your chin. The arm on your waist felt warm as it pulled you closer to a solid chest behind you-

Wait.

Behind you?

Arm on your waist?

Iwaizumi?

The scream that left your lungs can probably go down in the history of screams as you scrambled out of bed. You could feel your heart hammering on your chest and when your eyes landed on Iwaizumi’s tan skinned chest, the scream you were about to let out got stuck on your throat. When you met his eyes, he looked bored, grumpy and sleepy all at the same time.

“Hajime?!”

[batsplat]

casey also talks about sepang 2015 what do you think of that

oh in that podcast? uh... lemme listen again...

yeah idk it's not really anything new I'd say? he's said basically all the same stuff in more interesting and extensive ways elsewhere. I think casey inevitably has a very 'well feuding is bad and helps nobody' point of view, has expressed that before in the past, does it here again, and he's also drawn a parallel between himself and marc on several occasions. which... well, of course there's similarities in terms of public discourse or whatever, but the parallel really falls apart whenever casey argues the feuds cost valentino. like, I do think it's sometimes important to just. keep in mind. it's interesting that casey draws this comparison in his mind but that doesn't necessarily means he's right about this. I'm not sure how you'd argue that starting a feud with casey cost valentino anything competitively? you can argue it didn't help him I guess, and then we can have a debate about the ins and outs of the 2008 season. we can also have an argument that in a hypothetical world where casey isn't ill in 2009, valentino doesn't break his leg and casey isn't on a piece of junk in 2010, and valentino isn't on a piece of junk in 2011-12, then actually maybe valentino sparking open animosity with casey COULD have cost him. but we don't know that! didn't happen! I wish we could have found out, but we never got the chance! as it stands, the tally on this is pretty straightforward: casey won the title when things were reasonably civil between them in 2007, and valentino took control of the following season at the exact moment he worsened the relationship between the pair of them in 2008. obviously, it's all more complicated than that and casey would of course argue laguna didn't negatively affect his subsequent performances... but it certainly didn't help them. like, at the very worst valentino escalating tensions in 2008 is a complete net neutral. after 2009, them being bitchy to each other every other tuesday was completely competitively irrelevant beyond maybe affecting how they approached occasionally fighting for a podium position. hey, maybe casey used that feud to fire himself up through sheer spite throughout the later stages of his career, but that doesn't actually support his anti-feud stance - it's basically the exact same thing as what valentino does. they're both quite similar in that regard! always so hungry to prove a point, to show how someone else is wrong. kinda half the point with this feuding business is to get yourself going, get yourself motivated, yeah. he straight up openly admits to using yamaha's repeat rejection of him as a way of giving himself motivation, and at the end of the day that's really not all that different?

anyway, what else does casey say... oh yeah, that him and the other aliens were already kinda prepared for this and had learned vale's tricks. that valentino had only been able to get into the minds of the previous generation. welllllll *wiggles hand* sure, I mean, he did clearly have to change his approach... he couldn't just use the exact same playbook to get to them, either on-track or off-track. but that's why he did change up the playbook... again, whether you want to believe valentino won his final two titles 'in the head' rather than just through pure pace kinda depends on how you assess the evidence, but it is at the very least a debate. and, y'know, it's always worth remembering that valentino's most important mind games with casey didn't happen in a press conference... it was on the track. and the on-track stuff really is just embedded in how valentino approaches winning. speaking of aliens, this is what dani and jorge have said:

like, valentino's entire approach to his riding, even to the way he's setting his bike up, is deliberately about directly fucking with you... he's not actually always trying to be faster than you as much as he's trying to give himself the tools to make your life miserable, to pressure you into mistakes, etc etc... and again, especially with casey (if anything because he was so mentally sturdy), the off-track stuff was really just window dressing. (I know they bicker a lot after 2009 but it's just so fundamentally irrelevant to actual on-track competition.) so you can be aware of those tricks, but it also doesn't necessarily help you when someone's being nasty to you on-track in a way you just fully do not enjoy. which is what it was like for casey! for casey, a lot of this comes back to the truly unpleasant context of how he was perceived by the public, how he was treated as mentally weak or 'broken' or whatever partly because he had the misfortune of coming up against a bloke who had the reputation for breaking rivals. I think it's quite natural to end up with a bit of a hardliner 'actually I've never been mentally affected by a result in my life' stance - and of course casey is a lot tougher than a lot of people give him credit for. that being said. sometimes your rivals affect you, shit happens, it's part of the game. it's fundamentally a nice idea to think that valentino's tactics weren't just morally wrong but also ineffective, which is kind of the appeal of this narrative, right? you want to believe you're above that, you want to believe you were adequately prepared and wise to valentino's tactic. it's unsurprising and understandable that casey does tend to tell the story that way, but again it's *wiggles hand* also hard to describe it as completely factual

uh. what else. oh I'm thrilled casey does canonically know valentino and marc were friends, he has said he wasn't following motogp too much during that time period so you couldn't be sure of that. does this mean anything? does it tell you anything? well, no, but it's just a pleasing thought to me. I like that. oh also 'provoking particularly aggressive riders isn't a good idea' is kinda a funny take from casey? like, he of all people would hate the idea of being cowed by someone's reputation like that... casey's right that provoking fast riders can potentially be dangerous, but y'know I do think that's probably not news to anyone almost nine years later. um. that's all I've got I think