#know but they’re hard to articulate because he’s just. Yeah.

[cabeswaterdrowned]

I can understand someone not liking Gansey that much but I Can Not imagine calling him boring. Sir that’s President Freak of Clowntown right there…

[augustinewrites]

satoru absolutely does not know how to ride a bike idk how i know this but i know cw: suggestive content, mdni

“that was…good,” satoru settles on, still unable to properly articulate. he whines, still a little lightheaded and breathless as you roll off of him with a laugh, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before tucking yourself into his side.

“just good?” you tease, fingertips gliding over his chest. “if i’d known there was going to be a review, i’d have done that thing with my hips that you like.”

you roll your hips against his thigh, sending a warm chill down satoru’s spine. 

“don’t do that,” he warns, but his face is flushed and he can feel himself getting hard again. “unless you want to leave the kids at your dad’s for another night.”

“oh! speaking of the kids!” your sweet movements stop abruptly, causing him to peek one eye open to send you a long suffering look. “my father bought the kids bikes yesterday, and i told him you’d teach them how to ride them.”

now, it’s no secret that gojo satoru is good at a lot of things. 

he can manipulate the infinity around him and exorcise special grade curses with the flick of his wrist. he knows the words to every avicii song and can make mug cakes that don’t always explode in the microwave. 

there’s only one thing he can’t do. 

“i remember when my dad taught me,” you sigh. there’s a fondness in your eyes as you describe the memory. it’s something special and cherished, and satoru wants that for his kids. 

_____

“this isn’t funny, shoko!” 

“you’re right.”

“thank you—”

“because it’s hilarious. gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer of our time, never learned how to ride a bicycle.” 

she trails off in a fit of laughter. satoru hasn’t heard her laugh like this in a long time, and he’d be ecstatic if her amusement hadn’t come at his expense. 

“i didn’t have anyone willing to teach me!” he tells her, huffing. “it was all cursed technique this and cursed technique that. not to mention bikes are literal death traps on wheels.”

“motorcycles are death traps on wheels. bicycles are for babies,” she corrects, though he can still hear the laughter bubbling in her response. “why’d you even agree to teach them?”

“because she did this super hot thing with her hips, but focus!” he whispers harshly. “i can’t teach the kids how to ride a bike! what if i just bought a car—”

“only you would try to buy a car for an 11 year old.”

“not for megumi. tsumiki’s basically 13. she can start learning so when she’s old enough—”

“so tsumiki is going to learn how to drive before you learn how to ride a bike? you are so tragic,” she snickers. 

well, it sounds lame when she puts it like that.

he looks up when the sound of the shower running stops. “and you’re useless,” he growls into the phone. “i’ll ask nanami.” 

_____

NOT GOJO 

[shoko]: i heard gojo’s teaching the kids how to ride their bikes

[you]: yeah :) i’m so excited!

[shoko]: me too.

[shoko]: can you send videos?

[nanami]: I would also like to see videos. 

[you]: sure. but why the interest?

[shoko]: bcs i care about them and want to celebrate their achievements

[you]: you didn’t come to megumi’s violin recital because you said you valued your eardrums. 

[nanami]: It will be a fun moment to look back on when they’re older. 

[shoko] yeah that ^

[you]: fine i’ll send videos.

______

the sun is just beginning to set and the city beginning to settle when you take the kids to the park. 

“i really think—”

“satoru, we are not teaching megumi how to teleport to school.”

“but if he uses the shadows—”

you thrust a helmet into his hands, stern look shutting him up immediately. 

“fuck,” he mumbles once your back is turned to help the kids. he shoves the helmet onto his head and buckles it tightly.

the kids walk over to him with their little bikes, the huge helmets on their head making them look like bobble heads. 

you document his torture with a quick photo before giving him the floor. 

“riding a bike is…super simple,” he tells them, patting the seat of your bike. “you get on, put your feet on the pedals, and…pedal.”

the kids only stare at him, confused looks on their cute faces. 

“maybe you should just show them,” you suggest. 

“why don’t you show them?” he quickly deflects. please please please—

“no! i’m taking the video!” 

fuck.

satoru grips the handles of the bike tightly. he’s faced the worst of the worst, died and come back to life. he could ride a stupid bike.

he kicks at the stand your bike is leaning on, getting it up on the fourth kick. he swings his right leg over so he’s straddling the seat, his feet planted firmly on the ground.

it can’t be that hard, can it?

“watch and learn, kids.”

he takes a breath, then pushes off and places his feet on the pedals.

the bike rolls forward slowly. it’s wobbly at best, but he’s doing it. he’s doing it! he picks up a little momentum, heading off into the sunset—

“satoru! don’t lead them downhill!”

sure enough, the path in front of him leads down a slight decline. he squeezes the brakes and jerks to the side, sending him toppling over the bike and into the grass.

as he lays in the grass, dazed, megumi and tsumiki bike right past him. he’s sure the former even rolls his eyes.

“they have training wheels,” he says when you run over to check on him. “they’re cheating—”

“do you not know how to ride a bike?!”

“i never learned,” he grumbles, cheeks blushing at the admission. 

“oh, honey,” you sigh, brushing some grass from his shirt. “why didn’t you just tell me?”

you kiss his brow, unable to hold back your laughter as he pouts. “you were so excited about me teaching them. didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“you could never disappoint us,” you tell him firmly. “now come on, i’ll teach all three of you.”

so you teach him, holding onto the back of his bike until he’s steady, until he’s confident enough to do it on his own. 

he’ll get the hang of it eventually.

[mikedfaist]

thinking about mike and reader doing a q&a after a screening of a film they did together (maybe it’s in columbus, the theater I go to is in columbus and always has special screenings and q&a’s) and them not only being so articulate and passionate about their film but also silly and very in love even though they’re trying to be subtle (they’re not)

Put the two of them in a room together, let alone sitting side by side, and you are in for a treat.

The film is a love story about two strangers who cross paths for only a brief moment. The director talks about working with the two of them – and years after the fact once the relationship has come out – that she was merely a spectator for their own love story. She got to watch the two of them fall in love in front of the camera, and that’s what makes the film so special. They aren’t just playing their characters; they are the characters.

Most, if not all, of the dialogue in the film is adlibbed, and so the scene where Mike’s character tells her, “Whatever you want from me—I don’t care what it is, I just want to be yours,” that was coming from him. The two of them met on the first day of set, having it been kept a secret she was even a part of the film as to not instigate rumors. He recalls spotting her standing outside of her trailer, adorned in oversized sweatpants and stained UGG boots, smoking a cigarette over a cup of coffee.

“I’m quitting,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I must’ve slept through those D.A.R.E. lectures in school.”

One of the big talking points of the film – primarily with the fans – are the sex scenes. There is one scene in particular that depicts him spitting in her mouth, and then a panned out shot of him going down on her. It’s a little graphic, but the girlies love it.

She does most of the talking, describing mornings on set where Mike would bring her coffee, and the little games they would make up to pass the time. She recounts a day where Mike tackled her on the beach while playing Get Down Mr. President, and he had to cover his smile with his microphone. She also relates back to filming the intimate scenes with Mike.

“I remember when we were preparing for those scenes, he was very vocal about what I was and wasn’t comfortable with, because it’s very unscripted what we do, so communication is like massive. We also had a very lovely Intimacy Coordinator, Lynn, on set who was incredible in what she did. We’d go into these scenes and whatever happened, happened. The spitting scene—” This is where the crowd got a little noisy. “Yeah, I know…” She laughs awkwardly. “The spitting scene was something we discussed beforehand. It was like…okay, what can we do to make this a little more…” She showcases her exuberance with jazz hands. “And it worked, right?”

“I think what was so special about making this film was having such an incredible partner by my side.” She turns to look at Mike, who, again, covers his smile with his microphone. “I already got him blushing.” She gently knocks her foot into his. “I really don’t think I could have given the performance I did if it wasn’t for him. He really is just so amazing, and lovely, and just an overall remarkable person. He makes it hard not to fall in love with him.”

“One thing for me,” Mike begins. “I remember the first morning on set, and we were in hair and makeup, and she looks over at me from her chair and she’s got her hair all done back, and those undereye masks on, and she turns to me and says, ‘It’s such an honor to love you, even if it’s for a short time’, so I don’t know what she means by it’s not hard to fall in love with me, when she’s spitting out actual poetry at 6 in the morning.”

She covers her face with her hand, shaking it slightly. “I must’ve watched The Notebook the night before or something.”

One of the questions they are asked was individually, what were their favorite things to film.

Her: The bar scene where I sing karaoke… I loved that. I think we did like five different takes with five different songs. Also, the pier scene where we share a funnel cake, that was a good day. It’s always a good day when there’s a funnel cake.

Him: I was going to say the funnel cake… Uh, probably the beach scene when we are playing in the water. It was fucking cold though.

Question: What made you decide to take on this project?

Her: I loved the authenticity of it. You have these two lost people who find this safe haven in each other. It’s a love story but without that happy ending. There is no closure, but such is life. I loved how there wasn’t a dialogue script, because we really got to make our characters our own. We put a lot of ourselves in these characters, and it felt very genuine. They really do love each other, even in that short time.

Every time she speaks, Mike is sitting there with heart eyes. He absorbs everything she says. Fans in the audience mentioned that he was engulfed in her stories, and how when he would chime in with comments, she’d engage and beam right back at him. There wasn’t a moment where they weren’t smiling at each other. She at one point reaches over to squeeze his hand, and if you count, she stayed there for just a second too long.

Afterwards, some lucky fans said they saw them backstage share a long, drawn-out hug, where she rested her head in the crevice of his shoulder and neck, and he was rubbing her back. When they parted, he rubbed her shoulders and you can see her nod at something he says, before he kisses her forehead, and then part.

Some say, at first, they were bummed by what felt like an unfinished ending to the film but were quick to change their mind seeing her and Mike very much in love on stage. They are the happy ending.

[ninyard]

Nicky: yeah he slept with a chair in his room and a knife nearby so we think he’s just insane

Neil: ……

No but rlly, no matter how you feel about Nicky, on one hand I am an outside observer so reading this exchange I’m like “oh ffs obviously that’s not why! That makes no sense!” But then I think about it more and it’s actually probably really realistic? Nicky doesn’t know what andrew went through, he probably didn’t think his life in foster care was that bad, that kind of abuse just isn’t on his radar bc he’s had different experiences and exposures, so the possibility of anything else just doesn’t cross his mind, plus he’s already biased to think andrew is just naturally “like that” bc that’s the assumption he’s already been operating under, plus the natural inclination of ppl to not want to see awful things. It makes sense for him and Aaron that that’s the conclusion they come to, and that makes me so mad at the world for reasons I can’t quite articulate

Sorry for hitting you with this out of nowhere I actually meant to say something else but idr what bc I clicked the ask button and this is what came out instead xD

Oh 100%. I GET it. I understand why everyone has this perception of Andrew that he’s, in their own words, a monster. That he’s a loveless, emotionless sociopath. Imagine Aaron, excited to meet the twin he didn’t even know he had, and the first thing he says to you is fuck off, fuck you, leave me the fuck alone?

Imagine you meet the cousin you didn’t even know you had, and for some reason you don’t know about, he’s been in your house for how long? He’s been there for how long before he’s made an enemy out of your father, out of your aunt, he won’t talk to the cousin you did know about, he’s angry and depressed and he keeps knives under these arm bands he refuses to take off? He’s like Aaron in a different shade, like the dark version of a person already dark and destroyed. But he won’t talk to you. Why won’t you talk to us, Andrew? And all you get in response is a knife, or a blank stare, or a fuck off, fuck you, leave me the fuck alone?

Then your aunt is dead, and he’s alive, and the cousin you did know about is grieving and angry, and you, Nicky, who has fought so hard to keep the peace in your household, are now surrounded by negativity, and anger, and past problems that nobody fucking wants to deal with?

I get it.

Then they’re at Eden’s, and he hears it over his shoulder, the shouted slur. And then Andrew, who barely even talks to him anyway when they’re out drinking is on top of this stranger in a flash. And there’s blood, and the stranger stops fighting back. But Andrew’s fists keep coming back, and keep coming back, and keep coming back.

He nearly kills him. He nearly kills him. He nearly kills him. For you. Because you don’t know that he’s gay. You don’t know the weight of the word shouted your way. He’s protecting you. He’s protecting you.

You’re scared of him. He gets locked up. Whatever the timeline is pre-tfc. You’re scared of the cousin you didn’t know you had.

I get it.

But imagine being Andrew. They don’t ask what happened. They take the courts word for it when they say you’re a danger to society. They take the courts word for it when they say your depressive episodes are a danger to yourself. You tried. You tried to tell someone, but it’s a misunderstanding, and god’s intention, and your fault. So why bother trying again?

You spend all this time on this medication that makes you feel worse than anything you’ve ever been on - you spend years of your life in this haze, a mixture derealisation and constant and unending mania. You’re sick without it. You’re sick on it. You don’t remember who you are without it. You don’t want to know who you will be without it.

And imagine being Andrew, and it takes being violated in your cousins childhood bedroom, or just a room in his childhood home, for them to finally get it? Your autonomy stolen from you. Your secrets exposed without permission, again. Your consent is never your own choice. It never has been.

Oh and then let’s think about Nicky. And all that’s in his head is ANDREW IS WORSE WITHOUT HIS MEDS.

Maybe he hears the laugh from the bottom of the stairs. Maybe he only hears Neil talking about it. ANDREW WAS LAUGHING. HE WAS LAUGHING. HE WAS VIOLATED AND DESTROYED AND COVERED IN BLOOD AND HE WAS LAUGHING.

And this has happened before?

And Drake was not the only one?

Does it make sense now?

Is he a sociopath or was he made to be that way? Is he crazy or was this someone else’s fault? Does he protect his family because nobody protected him?

Why didn’t he tell me? Why did this happen under the roof of my family home?

In theory I hate how they don’t know what Andrew is really like. How they’re afraid of him off his meds. But it makes sense why. I get it. Why the fuck would they not think that?

But I think they understand how wrong they were eventually. I think they see how he might not smile anymore - but he is much happier now.

[azsazz]

💐 Dad!Az anon!!

Putting your message here so i can add a read more, but like i said earlier i don't have any words 😭😭 this is def one of the best asks ive ever gotten before and i'm so so so glad you love dad az as much as I do!!

ugh, i love and miss the babies so so much. and i love you too because this message made me feel so many things that i'm still blushing from reading this!!

yes, the kiddies will someday be developed as my OC's...i have plans :)))) 💙💙

Hi Kiers! I have returned, alas, and I have come with me and my complete brainrot. (I am crazy) Without further ado, here is everything I have to say about Daddy!Az and the rest of the Legion. Some might be complete brain rot, while the others fall in the middle or are actually (somewhat) legible literary analyses! just so you know, this is really long. i tried adding a read more button but I don't know if that's available for asks? i distinctly remember it being available... but it is what it is😔

One More: 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦 SOME MIGHT SAY FIRST IS THE WORST BUT THIS FIRST ONESHOT TO START US OFF?? NOT THE WORST. FAR FROM IT, ACTUALLY. I don’t know if people say it enough, but I adore how you write smut. I have one emotion: 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦

Family Dynamic: First, I love how your first thought was to go “Oh hell yeah! Daddy!Az! I should make a story about the birthorder of the children!” GOLDEN. your brain has veins with gold flowing through them. COMPLETELY and utterly ASTONISHING how they just come one after the other it’s hilarious?? im reeling😭 AND IRS SO CUTE HOW YOU INCLUDE LIKE LITTLE EXCERPTS OF DOMESTIC LIFE ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THAT’S SO ADORABLE. what gets me most, however, is the last few paragraphs. It’s like, it completely encompasses the reader’s (our) content and it’s so accurate and beautifully worded I can’t help but commend you for it. Plus, Cassian’s immediate “Oh No” gets me everytime😭😭

Keep Me Satisfied: “Going to fuck so many into you, love. A whole litter, I promise.” GET. THE. FUCK. OUT. 🫦 i literally HAVE NO WORDS?? I have no words! I literally have NO words besides the sentence “i HAVE NO WORDS”?? GOT ME FUCKED UP, GOT ME FUCKED OUT, GOT ME FUCKED???? HELLO??? HAS ANYONE EVER TOLD YOU THE WAY YOU WRITE SPICE IS LIKE OTHERWORLDLY TYPE OF IMPRESSIVE?

Hush Little Baby: This is like throwing the first ever blanket I had as a baby straight at me. It’s so familiar, and warm, and It makes me nostalgic because I was once a baby too (weren’t we all?), and I had the same wide eyes Azriel observed in his own babe. This oneshot makes me so happy, & I can’t fully articulate it

Here’s To Tradition Kiers give us a goddamn break or a glass of water to wash down the sugar challenge FAILED MISERABLY i look at nyx, giddy, and wren and all i want to do is CRY and HOLD THEM. I CAN’T EVEN LIKE… I DON’t KNOW HOW TO….ARTICUATE…I WANT TO HOLD. they’re like so little:(((( and im :((( i :((

You Too: I love your writing so much. need I say more. if I do then uhh err rhow do I get my thoughts out what if I just sscream in text AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Can’t You See?: IM CRYINGGGG WREN:( he’s such a sweet, sweet boy and when i first started reading this series i was really excited to see how he’d grow up and it’s just. wow. seeing him so happy makes me so happy. your writing makes me so happy “The little boy even tries to show off his own shadows, “Just like my daddy’s!” He sees both Rhys and Cassian watching with their own fond smiles, silently agreeing with every loving word pouring from the little boy's mouth.” PAUSE. I NEED TO CRY

Concord: I really like how you emphasize the bat babies innocence here. Unlike their fathers, from what I remember because I find it truly hard to focus when i read and like to listen to audiobooks as an alternative, the bat babies have a more stable childhood. theyre surrounded by safe environments, and they see that their parents have these funky little markings on parts of their body and they want to have that too. they hear stories of promises and the like and they want that too. they want what the inner circle have and so they try to ensure they get it and it BACKFIRES ON THEM THEYRE SO:( I feel😞 and WRENNIE ASKING IF NYXIE AND GIDDY CAN STAY FOR SUPPER ?!!!!! I CRY.

come back: 😞😞😞i 😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞love😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞the😞😞😞😞😞😞familyness😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞icryicryicry😞😞😞😞😞😞

Burning Man: Hi! You wound me with your writing sometimes. The utter devastation I feel whenever you write angst is inexplicable! There is truly nothing like it! I did like the comfort right after though. Dad!Az you are my roman empire😞

Promise: GET THE FUCK OUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT I AM GOING TO CRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY IM SORRU ITS JUST SOMETIMES WHENEVER YOU WRITE ABT THE BABIES THEY’RE LIKE SO WONDERFULLY PORTRAYED.. l CRY I CRY I CRY ITS TAKING EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO HOLD BAZ RN

Summer Daze: I love how you give us a little peek into Mama’s relationship with the other women, Nes in particular!! i love Nes and i hold her close to my heart so this little peek made me really happy. Especially at how cute her relationship with Cas is, even if its just brushed over:((( its so cute!!!!!! And Azzy kissing Mama’s belly:( that’s so sweet and tender

Two is Better than one: I. LOVE SCENES LIKE THIS. Where a character is thanking and worshipping the person that’s giving them children, blessing them with new life—an extension of love and care; it’s just so intimate and i treasure it and you write it so well it near kills me to stop reading😭 I really really like that addition:(

Taciturn: Punchign wall.😭☹️☹️😭😞☹️😞☹️☹️😭☹️😞☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞 baz they will never make me hate u “How come knoxie doesnt cry like Malos does” HELPPPPPP☹️☹️☹️☹️ “Its okay mommy, i’ll talk for him!” can we get more baz n knox pls. pls. thats truly so sweet.

In the House love built: the way you write smut is so intimate sometimes, and it’s so loving and you encapsulate the bond between mates so well. you’re truly worthy of all the attention you’ve received on this platform

The Calm Beneath The Storm: ☹️ pleaaaase i love how the childrens bonds are so evident and well written too and i just.i just cant properly sayhow much comfort i find in series like this and i cant properly say how much comfort i find in writing like yours ure so good kiers omf

Cuddle Me In: Jax is like living tylenol in a baby im not joking . he fixes ALL my headaches. hes so adorbsicles no one speak to me at all i cry i cry i cry☹️😞☹️😞☹️ punchign. wall

The Rowdy Bunch: Azriel really knows how to man up huh god he’s so fine in rhis one miss kiers u made him sso fine

The HoneyCrisp Grove: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 ARE YOU KIDDING ME THATS SO ADORABLE

Winter Wind: I just think it’s REALLY funny that you deliver honeycrisp grove and suddenly i get hit in the face with 💥BOOM ZUZU CRYING SO HARD HER VOICE IS HOARSE 💥BOOM MAMA GETTING STABBED BY A DISTANT RELATIVE 💥BOOM “help me” WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME. do u drink your readers TEARS for breakfast (this is my way of saying this story is well written and perfect)

Sticking Together: UGHH THIS IS SO:((( I WOULD LOVE FOR AN EXTENSION ON THIS!! like just seeing the #boys and their journey throughout windhaven would be so sad but also such an exciting read?? I hope we get to see how their bond grew because of it, or how it was maintained:(( i really like this story!!

Snatched: Complete rollercoaster of emotions btw. A bunch of ups and downs and round and rounds and i came out dizzy and dazed and possibly bleeding internally. W Eris I love him in this you portray him so well🙏🙏 And also once again. BAZ AND KNOX. GOD. MAKES ME SICK TO MY STOMACH WITH WARMTH.

No tricks, Just Treats: little knox is so precious to me. like he’s just so sweet. and also i remember you mentioning in the batbabies doc that wren, gideon, and nyx had the same dynamic as rhys, cas, and az so thejr costumes are a pretty good touch:D this is the perfect amount of fluff

In Ribbons:

“Baby, baby,” he begs, raising up as far as he can, voice lined with desperation and hazel eyes wide, “I didn’t mean to–” 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦 HELLO

Unwrapped: “Zuzu and Jax must be on waking you and your mate duty as they’re already climbing up into your bed. Your oldest daughter, ever the determined one, uses all of her strength to pull herself up onto the plush bed, only slipping once.” ZUZU GET BEHIND ME ILL PROTECT YOU 🤺🤺🤺🤺 HUZZAH shes so cute . i love zuzu so much, shes such a sweetie:(( your stories are like huge rollercoasters tbh one moment az is wrapped in ribbons and then the next the kids are fighting over presents and im here for it!! AND ALSO JAX AND AMREN & jax and rhys mention wow. god i love them i love how you put in effort to establish dynamics not only between the family but between the extended family too!?!

Into The New: I LOVE ZUZ SOOSOSOSMUCH:( she triggers fond memories of my own childhood. The way more of her dynamic with the orher members of the inner circle is expanded on in this story is so so sweet. I LOVE scenes where young characters see love blossom between people and KNOW that its love and WANT it but also at the same time i recall seeing an ask where you mentioned if Zuzu ever had a mate she’d think of herself as unworthy which … which is making me connect dots🙏 im trying to connect dots here cuz I SEE THE VISION but im trying to see the TRUE EXTENT OF THE VISION

Here for You: the Zuzu Rules Shirts?? I love Uncle Rhys😭 he’s so real for that tho. toss me one and watch me wear it with pride ??? i love the little things you add into your stories thatninclude the dynamic between characters:(( and also Zuz here being so happy and fulfilled makes ME happy and fulfilled. shes MY BABY.

Between Me & You: “This one’s for all the Jax girlies” ME🙌 JAX IS MY BOY🙏🙏 but also Baz calling Jax “J” is so corny and brother-core!!! (i dunno how else to describe it but i love it) also Bryaxis and Jax⁉️ FRIENDSHIP⁉️🙏 IM ALL FOR IT and i love how we see remnants of Jax’s journey into being able to control his power:((( i hope we get to see more of him (and Knox and baz . i love knox and baz)sometime!

The SafeGuard: IM TELLING YOU IM CONNECTING THE DOTS⁉️🙏 read:. im tripping over protective father azriel and giggling like a complete fool

Warrior Status: I. LOVE. WHEN. YOU. WRITE. SCENES. LIKE. THIS. ITS SO… IRHFJDJD LIKE WHEN YOU GO MORE IN DEPTH INTO THE LORE AND HOW NEW GEN IS HANDLING THE BLOOD RITE AND HOW THEIR PARENTS TRAIN THEM FOR IT IS MAKING ME HRISIDOOD ITS MAKING ME SO HAPPY but also wow. wow um the tension here is real. i always expect a rollercoaster of emotions whenever i read your writing and yet im blown away every time. i love baz, he seems to be capable of more than even he knows, and i hineslty hope theres more content so we cannall see how he’s faring:)

About Last Night:

“If we get caught,” Gideon defends, before adding as an afterthought, eyebrows furrowed, “And she’s not my girlfriend.” LOUDDDD INCORRECT BUZZER❌❌❌❌❌ W W W WRONGGGGG WRONG. EVERYONE KNOWS‼️ i love how giddy is the one who suggests going to autumn primarily to see his girl. it’s very cassian core to me as much as cassian himself disapproves😭 and KNOX’S LITTLE ‘im sorry’ PLEAAASEE THATS SO FUNNY

Torrential: This was actually the first story I read about the batbabies:) I was like, “oh my gosh who is Knox? I didn’t know there was a book out for next gen………… “ i was like genuinely so confuzzled. and this was like a few weeks ago. i didnt even know rhat Knox was an oc but I had, and still have a raging crush on him😞 I truly hope that you take the next gen and turn them into full fledged original characters of yours, i’d love to see them developed to their full extent especially with the teaser i get in this fic. like hello? Knox? River Keeper?? Okay I see you!! THE WAY YOU PORTRAY KNOX HERE UGHHHHHHHHHH HE’S SO LIKE UGHHHHHHHHHH UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH😡😡😡 (positive)

“His lips pull high into a wicked smile. One side curls higher than the other and it’s the first imperfect thing you’ve noticed about him, yet it still makes your breath hitch.” woo that got me. that got me good. you’re excellent

Our Souls Are Stars & Mine Is Forever Yours: kiers your BEAUTIFUL BRAIN is BRAINING again. this is my favorite scoop of content for the batbabies. Maude & Giddy are truly so adorable, and you really did a good job at sparking chemistry between them both. Maude trying to calm Gideon down, Gideon leading Maude to the famous balcony I CRY. I WEEP. HEAD IN HANDS. I WAILLLL I WAIL IN JOY IM SO? YOURE SO GOOD AT WRITING KIERS HOLY FUCK?!?! YOU NEVER FAIL TO IMPRESS ME

to my heart: ouuuuu… okay i see you kiers….i love this oneshot, it’s like really sweet but in a quiet subtle way and i love it when oneshots are like that. Knox’s banter with Malos, knox waiting for a reply… Kiers genuinely bless your heart

Undercover: Jax, Knox, Baz. you will always be the number one’s of my heart. NOW THAT THAT IS DISCLOSED CAN I PLEASE SAY I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE CHARACTERS PINING. LIKE JAX THIS WHOLE ONESHOT IS JUST “grrrrrrrrrrrrr dont you notice me?? 😡😡” and “wait nevermind its not time yet☹️😞☹️” at the last second and hes just so cute in this oneshot but i feel so bad for him (can we get the batbabies dapping eachother up to commemorate the jax and knox interaction in this fic yall!?!)

Jax uses his powers at a party: Heehehehhehehehehehehhehehehe wowwwwwwwwwwww hes like protecting her from afar heheheheh i giggled

Jax finds out Knox’s mating bond has been found out: I LOVE THE CALL BACK TO THIS IN UNDERCOVER. I want to see how the whole family reacts to Knox’s mating bond in the future, hopefully!! It’d definitely be very chaotic, especially if it’s the whole family!!

Bryaxis calls Jax a friend: “There's this boy at my school. His name is Montauk. He always gives me trouble, pushing and shoving me, calling me names…" Jax trails off, his tiny hands clenching into fists, "But I've felt his true emotions, and he's just a sad, scared little boy too."” :((( the “too” at the end im inconsolable. I want to hold each and every one of your next gen characters. pls.

Uncle Cassian’s reaction to finding out Jax wants to be friends with Bryaxis: Cassian is my spirit animal. and i LOVE the way you portray him 😭 he’s so funny i feel like he’d bark if I told him he was my spirit animal

What if Zuzu had gotten her wings clipped at the Steppes? I CRY I CRY I CRY I CRY. UGHHH how you detail Azriel’s devastation and at the same time Zuzu’s acceptance TEARS THROUGH ME. Zuzu is such a strong character and theres nothing to thank for that other than your immaculate writing skills

Zuzu Gets a Cat but it loves Azriel the Most + Wren, Baz, and Zuzu work together to try and convince their parents to get a second cat: I wholeheartedly believe wren, baz, and zuzu were probably nicknamed the triple trouble primarlt because of their tendency to pull shit like this and i LOVE it its so funny. I love your writing sm

I don’t know if you can tell, but I have an actually very secure AND VERY!! NORMAL attachment to this series. And I don’t have anyone to thank but you for writing it and writing it so beautifully; you truly have a gift and I know that it will get you a bunch of amazing opportunities in the future, or even now. I can feel how much work and effort goes into your writing, and the fact that you share it is an honor in itself and I’m so glad to have stumbled across your blog. You are an amazing writer. I look forward to reading more of your writing, not just for Daddy!Az—although I’d love for more of him—but even without him, I’d still love every piece of yours. I honestly hope the next gen characters become characters you take under your wing and develop, I would love to see more of them and they’re such interesting characters already. They’re so cool. You’re really cool too, Kiers!! I hope you don’t mind it took so long to get back to you, I was balancing cleaning my apartment and binging your writing:D I don’t regret anything. Reading your writing feels like a reward after every hard day. I hope to see more of you on my dash, Kiers!!! Keep writing, with your skills and your beautiful mind—it’ll no doubt help you in the long run. You’re really cool:)

xoxo,

-💐 (the one from about a week ago)

[ultimate-v3lvetfang]

whenever someone rightfully argues that Curly did not do his job to protect Anya like he claims he would do for her and the whole crew, someone always hits you with ohh it was a difficult situation, jimber yimpy could’ve acted out/hurt anya, they’re all in one ship, they can’t report it cuz pay blah blah oml someone even went to say that no one would know what to do in that situation because finding out his friend did that to someone must be hard BRO?? YK WHATS HARDER??? WHAT ANYAS GOING THROUGH???

very weird that everyone goes to defend Curly so EASILYY and don’t get me wrong i still don’t paint Curly NEARLYY as bad as jimbilimy ofc not, what junky did was monstrous and inhumane, Curly was just a bystander and that loses the respect anyone can have for him but he’s not as bad as jimmy I MEAN jumbo i’m running out of variations

but oml so many of y’all missed the POINTTT ofc it’s an uneasy situation you’re trapped in one ship in space which is half the reason this situation came to be in the first place, but not even pointing out the fact there are several risky but better than NOTHING solutions, the point isn’t what was best to do, the point is CURLY DID NOTHINGG that’s the problem. like i CANNOT get around the curly x anya ship (at least post crash curly and anya) he clearly cannot protect her oh well at least not when it comes to his best bestie jimber me timbers. and people still go wait nooo…. he had it hard guys…. he didn’t know what to do… poor curly fries :(( now he watches his crew die :((( yeah and that’s WHAT? the consequences of his actionsss why are we more sympathetic of curlyyy and not anyaaa like WHATTT….

im sure Curly was a decent guy but he did not TAKE RESPONSIBILITY (i did the thing) and that was just a testing moment that he most definitely failed. not to mention when anya tells him and he asks who she says “i told you,” which i never fully understand, but im assuming this refers to the fact she has maybe off-screen expressed being uncomfortable with Jimmgle bells or maybe she outright said how he was a threat to her, but again, Curly chose to be a bystander and not have to argue with his friend who was already very CLEARLY a JERK to even Curly since the beginning.

The point isn’t “well what COULD he have done” that point is that because it was a tricky situation, he had rather do nothing and that created a domino effect and serves even more evidence for one of the games themes, male dominance in the workplace and male alliance even if that ally is the Worst Guy Ever

theres more to be said but im not very articulate however this image may help

ALSO WHILE I HAVE YOU, STOP TREATING AFTER-CRASH-CURLY LIKE A CREATURE…. that’s a full grown man, just cuz he baked doesn’t change that. really weird when people draw him scaring people with his face to defend Anya in au’s where they all make it out alive, like??? and biting at people???? who?? why would you why???? isn’t the whole point of those au’s for it to be the good ending….give him a lil communicator, or prosthetics and he does asl, or communication cards or a walker or SOMETHING OTHER THAN ALLAT…. THANK YOU…

[thecoolerliauditore]

This is kinda hard to articulate, but i was thinking about scott and his teams throughout the seasons and team dynamics in general. and i just wanted to ask your thoughts on which players you think tend to 'take point' in their alliances over the seasons?

Also to preface this the last time i watched everybody’s series of the previous life seasons was like four months ago and this is all from memory, so like take it all with a grain of salt. Also also sorry for the block of text i won’t be hurt if you skim it lol

There are three main factors which I feel dictates whether a person assumes a leadership role or not: whether they naturally are inclined to act that way, who they’re teaming with, and how big the alliance is (partnership vs 3+). 

If it’s a partnership, it’s more likely the role is more evenly spread out between the two people (although it seems like the opposite is true for some people). It’s also sort of hard to determine where somebody falls if they’ve been alone or missing for a season or two (ie Scar or Lizzie). I feel like there’s something to note about how differently winners of previous series tend to play in future seasons, which thereby kinda alters whether they lead the convo or not. 

It does feel a bit arbitrary to try and isolate specific people who take up a leadership position because the vibe of the life series alliances are mostly a group of friends working together rather than an actual organized group, and members of the group tend to split up mid-episode, but I do feel like there are some people who noticeably conduits their alliances throughout the series. This does overlap a lot with cc territory since it has to do with where the natural dynamics of a group fall to.

Scott's alliances have mostly been partnerships, but even with that in mind, i've always felt like Scott tends to control the direction of where his typical group meetings flow. He likes to have control. In terms of partnerships, there really is big difference in whether he leads more if you look at Jimmy vs Cleo, or even with Martyn, at least from what I can remember. Martyn’s and Cleo’s partnerships are alike in a lot of ways, but I can’t help but also see them as distinctly different. 

If I had to put my finger on it, it felt like Scott stuck a lot more with Cleo throughout the episodes compared to Martyn. If I had to put my finger on the partnership where Scott feels the most ‘equal’ to his partner, it would probably be Cleo. Martyn is somebody who I think Scott also respects, but I always felt there was a degree of��� distance? Scott’s and Martyn’s are really both clever/witty and smart at surviving, and they both Know that, so I felt like they always let each other act mostly independently, even with Martyn being really protective over Scott. Either way, with those two, there’s definitely more of a distribution of leadership compared to Jimmy, but in different flavors. 

Then, there’s Pearl, which… yeah. You Know. I’d feel a little like a peasant lecturing to a professor of physics about blackholes if I were to try and explain the Scott-Pearl dynamic to you. The difference between the dynamic between solely Scott-Pearl VS Scott-and-somebody-else-and-Pearl is something that I felt like could definitely be talked about. Overlapping a bit with that, the only group alliances Scott’s ever had are in Secret Life and Wild Life. It still does feel like he makes or suggests a lot of decisions for the group, but to a much lesser extent. Gem & the Scotts mostly had Gem make the major decisions, which I feel like was a bit predestined from the point they picked that name, but also because it was Gem’s first time in the series and he wanted to make sure she had fun. It feels weird to say Gem also has a bit of a strong personality, especially since she tends to handle any social situation first with niceness (except Pearl this season lol) , but I do feel like Gem always makes sure to have her voice heard out, especially among people she’s comfortably with. When she’s determined or unimpressed about something, she isn’t afraid to say it, which I feel like is also why she was able to take a leadership role so easily in Secret Life. Scott more acted like her evil advisor or something, but in the end, he was the one to make her kill him. I wonder if there’s a noticeable difference in how much Scott dictated parts of the Gem & the Scotts conversation before and after Gem ‘betrayed’ him? 

There’s also the layer of Scott being a winner, which means after Last Life, the way he plays the game is different from other players. I wish there were more winners so I could say this definitely, but after they’ve won, winners tend to take on an ‘advisor’ role in their alliances. If I had to extrapolate from what I’ve seen, Scott plays pretty much the same between Third Life/Last Life and Double Life/etc, but only in the early-mid episodes of each series. He’s still very much focused on surviving himself, but during the latter part of each series, you can tell it’s only so he can set up somebody else to win. I feel like he had more sway in the decisions in Gem & the Scotts compared to the GGGGimpluse (do. Do they have a name), and I’d say that, apart from the fact he’s in a group with more people making it that way, it’s because he’s also sorta deferring/sharing with Cleo. Kinda. To summarize, Scott takes point a lot in his alliances, a bit noticeably less so in 3+ groups.

Scott also probably has the best record for teaming with different people each season (Jimmy-Pearl-Cleo/Pearlkinda-Martyn-Gem/Impulse). If we’re going by official teaming, this season is the only actual season where he’s had duplicates. It does speak to his irl role of knowing So Many Dang people, which is actually why I was thinking about this in the first place — if the fact that Scott is the one who organizes a lot of people together for games is noticeable in the Life series, apart from the fact he’s good at manipulating and the overall social game.

The person who I feel like automatically assumes a leadership role the most out of everyone, even more than Scott, is definitely Grian. Throughout the seasons you can very much see he’s a Manager, starting each episode with a group meeting and dictating what the goals are for that day. You can definitely see this in the Southlands and the Bad Boys (Joel sometimes too), but it is noticeably toned down in Secret Life w/ Cleo and Etho. This is probably because of his comparatively less familiarity with both of them and the obvious heightened respect he has for Etho, but even despite all of that, there were also a few moments where he did dictate what the Roomies were gonna do. Regardless, in contrast to Scott, it seems he becomes more like a leader in larger groups. It didn’t really dawn on me before, but Grian’s only partnership alliance has really only been with Scar, unless you count Secret Soulmates with BigB. This lack of partnership alliances with other people is really interesting to me, especially since it feels like a lot of other people have had a couple different sole partnership alliances. However, it is tough to say how exactly Grian acts in partnerships because Scar has been his only partner. Scar is interesting because, if he is in an alliance, he tends to turn/need one or more of the people in his alliance into his ‘vetoer’ or facilitator. The dynamic a lot of the time is Scar proposes an off-the-walls idea while the other person/people modifies it or denies it. Who would you say is more of the leader — the person who proposes the ideas or the person who makes the final decision/veto on whether the alliance does it? It’s hard to say, and again arbitrary to strictly define the positions in the alliances as strictly leader/follower compared to partners, but I’d say the vetoer who facilitates Scar does come off as becoming the person who tends to take point in his group. You can see this with Cleo in the Family and sorta even with Joel. As such, Grian falling into this role of facilitator does partly have to do with that Scar effect. However, he definitely takes a big proactive approach to leading the partnership, like with making plans to help Scar kill people, which indicates he would do the same for partnerships with different people. Going back to that thing where I said previous winners tend to become advisors for other people after their win, Grian definitely doesn’t fall under that generalization. It’s probably also due to the fact he’s hasn’t made it as close to the end in future series compared to some of the other winners, so he’s never had really the choice on who he wants to support to win. Still, I can’t think of a time where he’s assumed a more supportive role for another player, always aiming to either get himself or all of his alliance to the end, and creating kinda crazy plans while he’s at it. Whereas winners Scott and Pearl tend to accept their deaths well, Grian dies fighting and screaming to reach the end (Not to say that Scott/Pearl don’t try to reach the end, but Grian feels a little more vicious about it compared to how Scott/Pearl are after their season.). This is probably due to Grian’s competitive nature and bringing entertainment to his series. Grian tends to continually team with people he’s already pretty close to (Scar-Mumbo/Martyn/Jimmy/BigB-Scarkinda/BigB-Joel/Jimmy-Etho/Cleo-Mumbo/Skizz). They’re pretty much all in the same group of people, with Secret Life probably being his biggest divergence from his usual circle. As said earlier, this probably makes him more comfortable to lead the people in his alliance, since his brand of leadership can be a bit jokingly-mean/demanding sometimes. In fact, you can kind of tell he gets quiet when he’s in a group of people he doesn’t really know.

uhhh this is getting too long so i’ll hold off on an entire paragraph for the entire cast but here’s quick thoughts: 

Cleo plays middle-ground with taking point a lot? She’s kinda like Scott in that you can tell a difference between her Etho/Scott/BigB and Scar/Bdubs alliances. Scar and Bdubs facilitator, while being on more ‘equal grounds’ with the former people. 

Pearlito is. Gosh. It’s interesting how the way she played the game is so starkly different from before she won is so different after. at least from what i remember when I watched her? How she acts in the Nosy Neighbors & the Mounders is just. Aaaaaaaaa. She also spent one her seasons as a ‘loner’, a status she earned alongside other people like Scar, Lizzie, and BigB. Obviously those people did have alliances with individual people, but none that was main. I definitely feel like when players spend one or more of their seasons alone, it kinda changes how they play and how they drive a conversation.

Martyn!!! Loves to act on his own, but does play a huge role in whatever alliance he’s in usually, probably cause he spends a lot of creative juices trying to make everything entertaining. Made a lot of rules in Southlands, right hand and planner for Ren, etc etc. 

Speaking of Lizzie, I wish she were in more seasons, but I noticed that it seemed like she was the one kinda took point and made goals in the BAM alliance. This might be her thing about I haven’t seen her Last Life series in a hot minute, but it makes me want to go back and check if she did the same thing for the Fairy Fort. 

Skizz also feels like a notable person who leads the group talks sometimes, like with BEST or TIES or even this season, with Grian even deferring to him to make goals during the group meetings sometimes. In fact, I’d probably put him on the same level as Scott/Grian. Skizz's brand of leadership is very distinct to me, he does it in a way where it's obvious he must have had to take a lot of company leadership seminars in the past. 

I feel like Bdubs tends to... not quite lead, but moreover set a lot of the dynamic for a group he's in? It's strange. Like this season with the Tuff Guys, or with Last Life, his inflated personality and jokes guide a lot of the actual alliance discussions.

Etho and Tango are in groups of lot, but tend to do their own thing or listen to other people. (Tango/Cleo alliance save me… that like five minute alliance they had and never brought up again…). When Etho does talk, though, people are really likely to listen to him. 

Impulse… my brain isn’t working to Articulate, but his history of playing multiple sides and mostly taking a listener role during group discussion. 

Insert all the other players here, running outta brain room but i’m feral about all of them

i also can't claim to be a pearlboy or scottgirl or really be a super analyzer or any of them, so i'm really sorry if i mischaracterized somebody's favorite lil guy

Anyhow yeah. Sorry for the incoherentness i just love thinking about the general trends and patterns these guys fall into. What do you think? Who do you think naturally gravitates towards being a leader in their alliances, and why? It also makes me wonder how players like Grian and Scott would work together if they were in a strict partnership alliance. 

I don't really know what to add I think this is just a rlly good post. I almost feel a little bad posting this like I'm stealing your good take for myself rn but this is good this is good

(also please don't feel threatened by my supposed knowledge on scott/pearl or ethubs or any other character or ship for that matter. My view often fluctuates with rewatches as new context is added, I read my own old writing and think to myself "this guy is insane" all the time. And by my own admission it's been a long time since I've watched LL despite that being my favourite season and where a lot of my takes form. I'd also feel like the number one hypocrite in the world if someone told me what they saw in a ship and I went nuh uh incorrect buzzer when like a good quarter of my posts are analysing analysis and interpretation as concepts in this fandom in of themselves)

Actually I lied I do have stuff to add. Although this is literally like. already a really good post just on its own this is more for flavour

Right on with Grian's leadership-oriented personality, I think it's really cool how that's literally the thing Skizz applauds him on in LimL with affirmation station.

There's several things interesting to me about that scene, mostly in regard to Skizz's surprising social awareness and ability to read people, but also the fact that it's one of the few (if not only? Someone fact check me) Skizz affirmations that gets cut in the receiver's POV.

Which I think, following meta analysis rules, implies some fun things! From my perspective, it's implications are:

Grian's just a dick and didn't really care about Skizz's affirmation, it just wasn't important enough to him to show up in his POV.

Grian didn't feel deserving of the affirmation, which I think would go very well with how all of the people he leads (Scar included) tend to go towards disaster sooner or later.

Evil option which I will talk more about with other characters. Grian might have complicated feelings about the position of "leader" because while leaders are respected, they are also more visible and therefore vulnerable to becoming a target.

That third one leading to my next point about how I think it's interesting with Scott/Martyn how they are both people who could in theory be very effective leaders and seem to want power/control yet shy away from those roles. You're so right about Scott being Gem's evil advisor he's definitely the more subtle out of the two in terms of putting himself in control, whereas Martyn is pretty much always a little bit blatant with wanting to lead and protect his teammates but never actually adopts a "leader" role. He actually more co-leads than anything else with the bigger groups he's been in, with Ren in 3L and Grian in LL which is fun especially when you consider his complete lack of loyalty in either. The one person both seem completely comfortable holding power over is Jimmy which I think is. Fun.

To make yourself a leader is to make yourself a target, and I think both Scott and Martyn are smart enough to know that and manipulate it to fit their needs. As such they both adopt "puppet leaders" (Gem for Scott and Ren for Martyn) to give themselves to while finding ways to pull strings. I think that's what made their duo work so well, they both understand what the other one is about with this whole "alliance" business.

I think there also might be something really fun you could get from this when considering Ren and Lizzie's dynamic the next season, but like you anon I haven't watched the Fairy Fort POV in awhile and don't really feel confident saying anything. However I do remember Ren being the one who establishes the Shadow Alliance through his bond with Martyn, as well as the one who comes up with the whole "Queen of Shadows" thing, so take that as you will.

But people who pursue leadership in this setting aren't just stupid or naive, it takes a certain level of courage and confidence and mayhaps belief in your allies to be able to do that. Something that someone like Gem is perfect for, since she pretty much hits all the notes.

Skizz is what you get, I think, when you have the confidence and the love and trust in your teammates, but not the ability to hold onto your own authority (or even see that your teammates are disregarding it). BEST you lovely, lovely mess you. TIES is pretty much BEST but more stable but even then I don't think TIES so much respected Skizz as authority as much as they saw him as a friend who needed to be protected. With every season he seems to become more and more aware that he isn't taken seriously, I know he dropped it almost immediately but his "no more mr nice guy!" routine at the start of WL reads as acknowledgement of that to me.

I think you could make an alignment chart out of this. But just off the top of my head:

players who are happy to play leader:

Ren

Lizzie

Skizz

Gem

Grian who will act as leader, but avoid gaining a reputation for it

Cleo kind of falls somewhere around here too with the mother clocker stuff, I don't think she really thinks of herself as a leader though.

players who are shrewd enough to avoid the risk of being leader, but still want some level of control:

Martyn

Scott

Bdubs kindaaa? I haven't quite figured out what his deal is in WL yet, but I think he's aware Tango and Etho won't take him seriously as leader and he also literally said their alliance operated by every man for himself, so I don't really take his assertions of leadership seriously. Either way he is more manipulative than most people realize and I think if you wanted to bring HC into this, his thing with Mayor Scar and King Ren is pretty much as evil advisor as you can get.

players who are shrewd enough to avoid leadership But Also don't really desire control of their teams as a whole, they value their own survival as individuals more and while they don't necessarily see their teams as expendable, they're playing with the idea that they're gonna disband or leave eventually in mind:

Etho

Impulse

Bigb kinda because he really just seems to want to vibe but keeps getting pulled into these big ass alliances

players who don't really go in with any agenda and usually just end up being followers:

Jimmy (<- kind of complicated because he's frustrated about the Ecosystem and Will backstab his teammates if he's desperate but at the same time it's not because he's manipulative it's because he's desperate)

Tango

Mumbo

wild cards

Pearl, who you already summed up very well. She very much would rather vibe before DL, and after DL seems more willing to be a sword than a companion for whoever her chosen guy is. I think you could say more about Pearl's sense of agency here but. Yeah weird girl.

Joel, who is actually very passionate and loyal to his teammates, but will also maul Jimmy to death when he gets mad. He's also had like. No friends so this is harder to judge. I will say he kind of took on leadership amongst the reds in LL though, with Lizzie acting as his Martyn.

Scar. Who is Scar

Anyway. interesting interesting. group dynamics yay

[shsy7573]

Random Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) Character/Song Analysis Kinda Thing… I Guess

Okay, so yeah, Luci has 100% taken over this page. So what? I’m not obsessed, you are.

Anyway, I’ve been listening to “More Than Anything” on repeat since it dropped, and like a lot of the fandom I tear up every single time… but unlike a lot of the fandom, it’s not because of the sweet father-daughter moment (which, don’t get me wrong, doesn’t help the situation because it’s just so damn wholesome).

No, what gets me is how, just through a couple subtle moments, the show is able to convey just how absolutely shattered Luci is as a character. And, you know, because he’s my favourite, bestest, snek-baby-duck-boy, it makes me a little emotional…

So now you’re all gonna hear about what goes through my mind every time I listen to it. YAY!

“Charlie! You don’t understand, Heaven never listens. They didn’t listen to me. They won’t listen to you!” / “You don’t know that—” / “I do!”

It starts before the song even truly begins. When I’m listening, it’s usually these first few lines that grab my attention. I end up replaying the first 4-5 seconds of the song over and over again because the pain in that “I do” is so fucking good! (And because I like to suffer apparently cuz I end up sad. Life of an angst lover I guess).

It’s the first time we see him with actual tears in his eyes. The raw delivery of that line is so attention grabbing, and manages to say so much in such little words.

I think the reason this particular scene tickles my brain so much is because it’s the breaking point for his character in a way. I am, and always will be, a sucker for moments where a character’s walls finally come down, and we get to see what’s been festering inside. When their deepest thoughts and how much they’re hurting are revealed. The entire song is what that is for Lucifer, starting with these two words right here. I truly cannot put into words just how much my breath is taken away by Jeremy’s delivery of this line. I cannot articulate how much I love it, and how important it is for Luci’s character. it just hits so deep and so right for me and I love it.

Lucifer isn’t just saying that he knows Heaven isn’t going to care about her plan (I don’t think anyone thought that’s all he was saying but whatever). He is saying that he knows what Heaven does to dreamers. He knows what they’ll do because he has already been there, and it destroyed him. They took his ideas that they saw as too outlandish, and they squashed them. Cast him aside. And he paid the price for it when he went bashing their back and did his own thing anyway.

Luci is a broken dreamer. Throughout the entire episode, and the series as a while, we are given very strong hints of this. However, it’s not until this song that we really see it in action. It’s not until these moments that we are able to see past both the veils of “Imposing King of Hell” and “Goofy Guy who’s trying his best but not great at Dadding,” and get a look at how genuinely depressed this man is.

“My dreams were too hard to defend.”

This scene eight here. The more I see it, the more I fall in love with it. Just a great example of ‘show don’t tell.’

He’s talking about having big ideas, he’s talking about giving people a chance and reaching outside the normal, he’s talking about being cast out of Heaven. I just love the parallel he’s drawing between Charlie’s mission, and his own past.

Charlie created the hotel in an attempt to give people who have been seen as lesser to all of Heaven some sort of chance. She is choosing to have faith in them, and to open up opportunities for them to lead a better life.

Lucifer, when he gave Eve the fruit, was taking a chance to allow humanity the chance to have free will. He wanted them to experience everything life had to offer for themselves like angels got to. He offered a chance for them to lead a better life.

He had everything, and he had complete faith that what he was doing was right. All the light and hope of his dreams was right in the palm of his hand. He had so many ideas that he thought, if they were saw through, would make the world a better place.

But it didn’t work out for him.

“And in the end, I won’t lose it all again.”

Now, the first seconds of dialogue may be what I keep rewatching, but this has got to be my favourite visual of the entire song. It’s such powerful imagery, and I fangirl over it every time.

Look at how small he looks in that shot (I know, I know, he’s tiny regardless, but like seriously). He is completely outnumbered, hopelessly overpowered, totally at the mercy of all his Heavenly superiors… and he’s all alone.

He lost everything because he had the gall to dream. It’s not hard to look at the song (and the episode at large, really) and find not only his feelings of being wronged, but also his immense guilt. It shows in how much he hates Sinners. They are basically the worst of what he did, a constant reminder of the day his mistake caused him to lose his home and everything he held dear, and they are all he gets to see. Only being permitted to see your failures for all eternity? No wonder he’s fucking depressed.

The day Heaven cast him out was the day he stopped dreaming. Because dreaming big only leads to pain, failure, and suffering.

“I just don’t want you to be crushed by them like… like I was.”

This next moment is kinda self explanatory and obvious and really doesn’t need any commentary, but I’m gonna talk about it anyway. Because I love it, and I love him, and… you know… angst. I’ve mentioned my lust for it several times now throughout this post, you really shouldn’t be surprised.

I just feel so bad for him. Lucifer made one mistake. One simple, misguided mistake that ended up introducing evil into the world, and all of Heaven came down on him for it. And, you know what, in the narrative presented by the show, what he did wasn’t that bad. He just wanted to give the world’s newest creations the same freedom angels had, and it backfired horribly. Lucifer, like Charlie, was an idealist who saw the best in people and wanted to help.

And what did he get for his good intentions? Shoved into the cesspool he unintentionally created, and forbidden to ever see anything good that came from his dream.

If I had to guess, Lilith was the only thing keeping his mental health afloat for a long time… and then they had Charlie.

“The tales about your lofty dreams. I’d listen breathlessly, imaging it could be me.”

His daughter became the light of his life. Something that he cherished and indulged more than anything else in the world. To him, she was perfect, and he wanted to do right by her in any way he could.

Lilith told their daughter stories of all her father’s dreams regardless of what he thought of them, and when the little princess came asking him… how could he refuse? How could he refuse her anything?

So he shared them with her. All the tales of grandeur, and fantasies of everything he wished the world could have been. All the dreams he had long since let go.

“And in the end, it’s the view I had of you that show me dreams can be worth fighting for.”

Now, the scene where Lily take’s Charlie away has always been excellent brain fodder for me because of how somewhat ambiguous it is. You could interpret his sadness to have SO MANY meanings. However, I have inevitably decided on two potential head-cannons/theories to share here for what could possibly be going through Snek-King’s head.

One: Lucifer loves his daughter, but he feels estranged and like he’s failed her in some way. She’s such a joy, such a wonder, and in a way it's his fault she’s trapped down here with all of human ties worst. He wasn’t to be close to her, and to make the world perfect for her… but he already feels like he’s failed her in the most unforgivable way. He keeps his distance because part of him doesn’t want her to have a super high of an opinion of him. It’s kind of his depression manifesting, saying that ‘she shouldn’t admire you and your stupid dreams when they’re the reason she’ll never see true light and happiness.’

The angst addict in me likes this one more, but still I’ve got another one that always pops.

Two: He feels like he’s selling her false hope, and he can kind of see the place her innocence is headed. He’s seen the horrors of the world, and he knows the more he indulges her dreams and fantasies, the more she’ll suffer when she sees that’s not what the world is like. He knows from personal experience how much it hurts when your dreams come undone, when you lose hope in the world.

Listening to Charlie’s actual lyrics, she tells him that he was the one who inspired her to dream, that he was right to dream, and that she’s not going to back down. In the song, Luci realises that 1: maybe he didn’t fuck us as badly as he thought and that she actually doesn’t blame him and wants her in his life and/or 2: she has her mother’s willpower, and she’s never going to stop dreaming or let her world be sullied like he did. She’s so much stronger than he was.

So he lets her in.

(Side note… AWWW, look how TINNYY he is! He’s so small. The start contrast in the second image gets me every time)

There’s a bit of symbolism in the song which I ABSOLUTELY adore, and it has to do with the wings. In the flashback, Charlie mentions his “lofty dreams,” when we see the duck, which later transforms to have multiple sets of wings. Later in the song, when Lucifer finally lets her in, he also sprouts those wings.

And I just love this, because I think it acts as the perfect symbolism of him finally opening his mind again. Not just to his daughter, but to the possibility of dreaming in general.

He takes her to a circus, a place filled to the brim with spectacles and thrills, a place where humanities wildest imaginations seem possible.

But even though he’s beginning to open up, and he’s willing to help her in whatever she does, he’s not ‘fixed.’ His depression and self doubt and feelings of hollow emptiness and guilt and apprehension aren’t gone.

And he’s still terrified of seeing her spark go out like his did.

This tiny smile break is so addicting to watch for me. It speaks volumes. Once again, my angst loving heart eats it up every time. It says, “I’m still worried, and there is still so much shit going on in my mind right now about all of this, but I’m here for you.”

And that’s what counts.

Luci’s character showed a lot of colours, and came a long way in this singular episode, but he’s still got a big uphill battle to climb. He still has to come back into his own where dreams are concerned. Maybe he never will, not completely. Realistically, he’ll never go back to the way he was.

But maybe, just maybe, in helping his daughter he’ll find something worth believing in again.

That is, of course, if they decide to give him a character arc beside ‘Dad who is trying and doing better,’ but for that only time will tell.

—

And THAT concludes my rant on the Rubber Ducky Ruler. If you stuck around this long, good for you! I wrote this whole thing on a limb at midnight, and NO I’m not going to go back and edit it because why would I ever want to see all the horrid grammatical and spelling errors I’ve inevitably made.

Maybe I’m off the mark on all of this. Maybe I’m head-cannoning too much. Maybe I’m just trying to suck out every hint of potential angst out of a song that’s supposed to be sweet and wholesome. That’s for you to decide. But for me, I’ve decided that I’m satisfied with this analysis. In the end, I just needed to express all the thoughts bumbling around in my head SOMEWHERE before I exploded, and unfortunately, I feel like I’ve run all my friends dry talking about this baby to them, so now it’s your turn. But, anyways, I think that about wraps things up. It’s time to go to bed.

Farewell, stay hydrated, and have a lovely rest of your day/night :)

[suzukiblu]

While time travel bf and Tim's bi awakening is definitely horny, it also shows how much future/alternate reality Tim cares for Kon and knows/loves everything about him so it makes me think of Everyone Adores You (at least I do) by Matt Maltese.

I think you may have gotten a couple of WIPs confused, friend, 'cuz that sounds less like "time-travel boyfriend and Tim's bi awakening" and more like "interdimensional whoring for TimKon", sooooo I gave you "interdimensional whoring for TimKon", since that's the one you described. Hopefully I have not misunderstood your desires here, hah.

Kon, unsurprisingly, looks exactly as good as he always does like this. He leans into the press of Tim’s thumb and makes another quiet noise, and Tim rubs down the crease of his tongue between the studs of his venom piercing and lets himself enjoy the sight of Kon’s flushed and pretty face and obediently-open mouth as he does. 

That sight never gets old. 

“Fuck,” his other self chokes, as the one who said sight is a new experience for. Tim doesn’t blame him, for obvious reasons. He nearly fell off the bed the first time his Kon opened his mouth for him like this. 

“Told you,” he hums, then slides his tongue back a little farther into Kon’s mouth. “He’s just so sweet when he wants cock. Behaves so good for it.”

His other self hisses. Kon’s face flushes darker, his eyes flicking away, but he doesn’t pull back or try to talk around Tim’s thumb holding his mouth open. 

Not that Tim ever could hold Kon’s mouth open, if Kon wasn’t letting him.

“Do you want tips, or do you want to figure it out as you go?” he asks, stroking down Kon’s tongue again as he uses his free hand to unbuckle his utility belt one-handed. Kon’s eyes snap to his hand as the buckle clicks and his face gets even redder. He doesn’t make a crack about “just the tip” or brag about his bedroom technique or anything like that, so he’s clearly already very into this. “Or we could just tell you what to do outright. We like to do that.” 

Kon . . . swallows, very slowly. 

“You like to tell people what to do?” he asks. 

“We like to tell you what to do,” Tim corrects. “We like it when you want to listen to us.” 

Kon glances away again, but still doesn’t duck his head. His face is still bright red. 

“Do you have a safe word?” Tim asks him, and Kon shivers. 

“I, uh–I don’t . . . I don’t really . . .” He trails off, looking mortified, and Tim resists the urge to press it. Kon’s hard to embarrass, usually. At least in the bedroom, anyway. 

Kon likes it, though. When Tim embarrasses him a little like this, he means. Just a bit of it. When he thinks of something that Kon hadn’t, or offers him something he wants but doesn’t know how to ask for himself, or little things like that. Tim thinks it's because Kon knows he'll never be cruel about it or try to outright humiliate him, but Kon's never managed to fully articulate the reason to him.

But if he likes it . . . well, it's not as if Tim doesn't like being trusted to do it.

“Mine’s ‘latchkey’,” he says. “Or just stoplights, if you know how those work.” 

“I–don’t,” Kon stutters, still looking embarrassed and still not meeting either of their eyes. “I mean . . . they’re a . . . a kink thing, right?” 

Tim tries not to make any assumptions, but the sexually-repressed reality maybe is not the one where Kon’s felt comfortable exploring his submissive side with anyone else, much less admitting its existence to any of his friends, so . . . 

“Yeah. ‘Red’ means stop, ‘yellow’ means slow down, and ‘green’ means go,” he confirms, because that gives Kon the plausible deniability as to whether or not he knew that already, and it’s not like it hurts to go over it anyway. “Do you remember my safe word?” 

“Latchkey,” Kon recites back immediately, and then turns very, very red.

[pengujoon]

A HOPELESS DEVOTION (ii)

content. oikawa x bsf!reader, reader has a crush on oikawa, oikawa is a douchebag, iwaizumi is their mutual best friend. angst and more angst, cw: suicide. Iwaizumi gets super sad at the end i'm sorry baby. too many tragedies in this

a/n: i keep deleting the story so i have to do the formatting again and again i'm so done. didn’t know people would like the first part sm so here’s the second part as suggested!

part i

Of course the atmosphere in high school the next day wasn’t the best - one of their most famous students killed themselves. Who are we kidding? They’re known throughout the entire province as the infamous volleyball captain’s best friend!

But to him, he hated their very presence. They were nothing but a nuisance. Yeah, initially he wanted to become friends purely because he saw that they had no one to be with - until he realised that they are the child of the president of the Miyagi prefecture volleyball association. Then everything went downhill from there.

All those times that you wore his jersey to watch his games made his stomach churn - he couldn’t possibly see you taint the jersey that was exquisitely his. He couldn’t possibly replace it with a new one, no no. His act would be easily blown by keen eyes. He had a reputation to uphold. 

But little did he knew that his carefully articulated plan of using you to get close to your father was blown way earlier than he ever expected anyone to know about it. And undoubtedly, it was none other than their very setter.

“Iwaizumi!” it was an undeniable fact that he made the group become a trio because all three of you were childhood friends: the only difference was that you didn’t know who oikawa was and vice versa. But the both of you knew Iwaizumi, which then led to the formation of the current friendgroup that took Aoba Johsai by storm. 

From the very beginning, Iwaizumi knew that Oikawa wasn’t someone you’d like to be with - especially so if you’re naive. Maybe it’s instinctive, but Oikawa is especially manipulative and is probably one of the most skillful people pleaser Iwaizumi has met in his entire life. 

And such is the reason why he was worried when he saw a sudden change in Oikawa’s behaviour to you - it was as though he was trying to please you, to not make you angry - to put simply: he was sucking up to you.

But to him, it didn’t make sense! Why? You couldn’t even possibly do anything that would benefit him - until he saw you walking towards the Miyagi Prefecture Volleyball Association building. Remembering that your father was the president of the association, it hit him that Oikawa wanted to get to your father through you.

The situation at hand was not favourable to Oikawa - the party took place in Iwaizumi’s home. It just happens that Iwaizumi’s family was well off and affluent, allowing him to have access to the cctv footage that captures the in and out of the entire penthouse. 

After being taught since young to watch over the day’s cctv footage to identify anything that seems remotely out of place, he made it a habit to watch them right about to sleep, something like a bedtime story. 

The moment he started the footage, he found you. 

It was offputting seeing the way you stood outside the kitchen. You looked… tired? Fearful? The cctv couldn’t really capture your expression given the distance, but at least he could make out the fact that you were hiding from someone. 

Probably Oikawa, he thought. 

His thoughts were confirmed seeing the very man in the kitchen with another friend of his. Thank goodness the situation was of use to him. The room was pin-drop silent, save for the soft distant humming noises of music and people from the living room.

He quickly put his earphones on to listen in on their conversation. 

And boy, he was pissed. 

The next day - with no warning signs and no nothing - the moment he saw Oikawa practicing alone in the gymnasium, he saw red. 

“You fucker!” Iwaizumi ran up to Oikawa and pushed him so hard he fell on top of the pile of volleyballs that lay dormant below him. 

“The fuck you want?” Oikawa shouted back in retaliation, surprised by Iwaizumi’s sudden outburst. 

“What did you say the other day when you were over at my house?!” He shouted, not bothering if anyone could hear it even if they were feet away from the now closely shut gymnasium.

Before Oikawa could even respond, Iwaizumi quickly added to his statement. 

“Before your ‘best friend’ stood outside the kitchen, they were happy! They skipped around when they were outside at the rooftop before looking so fearful when they were outside by the kitchen!”

Everything went blank after Oikawa heard Iwaizumi say the first 8 words. You were outside there hearing him talk about you like you’re nothing? That’s probably way you commited suicide. 

It then hit him like a truck.

Oh god, he thought, what does that make me?

“You’re a fucking murderer!” 

Ah, that’s who I am. 

“You think I don’t know that you got close to your now dead best friend only to reach her father? You think I don’t know that’s what you’re planning?

“It’s fucking tiring having to juggle your issues. They loved you! They were about to confess to you on that very night itself but look at what happened.”

He took a brief pause.

“They’re dead.”

An uncomfortable silence fell upon them. “Now what do you have to say about what happened that day in the kitchen?”

Oikawa remained silent, his head hanging low.

“Speak, you asshole!” He flinched hearing Iwaizumi roar at him. “What is it that you said that made your best friend jump off my penthouse?”

“I said I hated them!” Oikawa yelled in retaliation. “Said that I should get an award for acting that I like them so well.” Although he whispered the last part under his breath, it reached Iwaizumi’s ears and he had to put in all his effort to not beat this sorry sake of a best friend up into a mush.

 Iwaizumi turned his back against Oikawa and began pacing around the court. Anyone could tell that they shouldn’t get close to him right now: one wrong step and you’ll be done for. The fury in each step scared Oikawa - he had never seen him so angry before. Never once in his entire life.

“Did you know?”

Iwaizumi asked out of the blue, prompting Oikawa to look up at him. Oikawa hated how weak he was in this situation, so vulnerable and powerless against Iwaizumi. He hated the power imbalance.

“They have a name for themselves on a public diary website. I interact with them a lot there, but they doesn’t know it’s me. Although no names were mentioned, I just knew it was you. They wrote about what they felt for you and I could feel the love ooze out from the words beautifully articulated in her entries.” 

Iwaizumi glared at Oikawa, his eyes evidently teary. 

“You’re a bitch. Imagine finding out that your best-friend-turned-crush never liked you and fucking depises you. You should be grateful that they never found out that you got close to them only to suck up to their father.

“Imagine if they did. Your life with volleyball will be no more.

“Just like theirs.”

The pain from your death engulfed them both like an unending storm. The suffocating weight of guilt and remorse crushed their spirits, leaving them shattered and lost - they simply had no more reason to live. Losing someone as dear as you left a void in them that seemed impossible to fill.

Iwaizumi withdrew from everyone, shutting himself off from the real world. The once lively young man with a life full of potential became a mere ghost of his former self. For weeks and weeks, he blamed himself for not recognising the signs of your inner struggle, completely breaking down on the inside.

Every night, he replayed the scenes of the cctv footage on the outside rooftop, wondering what he could have done differently to prevent such a heart wrenching outcome. He would cry himself to sleep every night, knowing that he could no longer find solace in your presence anymore.

Oikawa, too, fell into a downard spiral of self-destruction. His dreams of volleyball success and fame lost all meaning; volleyball, once his passion and escape, now only served as the constant reminder reminder of the consequences of his mindless actions. 

The court, once a place bustling with energy and euphoria, now felt desolate and empty. He turned to unhealthy coping mechanisms, hoping to numb the pain that threatened to consume him.

Their friendship, once a rock-solid bond, slowly fell apart under the weight of their shared pain and regret. They became distant, unable to find solace in each other as they once did. The loss of their friend had left an irreversibly deep impact on them, altering the course of their lives and leaving wounds that seemed impossible to heal.

The weight of his sorrow became too much for Oikawa to carry. Without uttering a single word, he vanished from the world of volleyball and from Iwaizumi’s life. Their once unbreakable friendship shattered like fragile glass; the void he left behind felt like another gaping hole in Iwaizumi’s heart, an emptiness that could never be filled by anyone else.

Iwaizumi searched for Oikawa relentlessly, but his efforts were in vain. He couldn’t help but blame himself for driving him away, believing that he had failed his friend once again. The pain of losing you and now Oikawa as well was too much for him to bear.

Their paths crossed again one rainy evening. 

Iwaizumi, aimlessly wandering the streets, found Oikawa standing on the edge of a bridge, the constant raindrops mixing with his tears. It felt as though the sky was an accurate representation of their inner turmoils, hitting just a little too close to home.

The sight of Oikawa hopelessly standing at the edge of the bridge with no one else in sight pierced Iwaizumi’s heart, the pain inevitably obvious in Oikawa’s very own eyes.

“Don’t,” Iwaizumi pleaded, his voice choked with emotion. “Don’t do it, Oikawa.”

Oikawa turned towards the black-haired male, his face a mask of anguish and sorrow. What was once the captain of a powerhouse oozing with nothing but confidence was now a broken soul adrift in a sea of hopelessness.

The sparkle in Oikawa’s eyes had dimmed, and his once infectious smile had vanished, leaving only a haunting emptiness within him. 

“I can’t bear this pain, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa choked back a sob. “It’s all my fault. I pushed them away, and now they’re gone.” 

Iwaizumi took a shaky step forward; he was treading on a very fine line here - one wrong step and everything’s precious to him will be gone. “We can’t bring them back, but we can try to make amends. To live for them.”

Oikawa’s trembling intensified as he clung to the slippery railing. “I don’t know if I can, Iwa-chan. The guilt is consuming me inside.”

“I feel it too,” Iwaizumi admitted, his tears now streaming down his face. “But we can’t live on like this. They wouldn’t want it.”

The rain continued to pour down around them, as though it was a metaphor for the tears they both shed for their lost friend. In that somber moment, Iwaizumi realised how much pain Oikawa was holding within him, how deeply the loss had scarred his very soul.

As Iwaizumi watched in horror, his heart pounded in his chest, desperately hoping that somehow he could reach Oikawa before he jumped. He reached out to his friend, refusing to let go, trying to anchor him to the present, to the life they once shared.

“Please, Oikawa,” he implored, voice breaking with emotion. “Don’t do this.”

Oikawa’s grip on the railing tightened, eyes hollow and distant. He seemed lost in a world of his own torment, disconnected from reality, from Iwaizumi’s pleas. The rain mixed with the tears on his cheeks, but he remained silent - it was as though the ages of torment had stolen his voice.

The darkness within Oikawa was too much to bear, and the pain too overwhelming.

Iwaizumi watched in horror as Oikawa let go of the railing and disappeared into the raging depths below, swallowed by the darkness of the river. Iwaizumi’s heart screamed in agony as he desperately reached out to save his friend, but it was too late. 

He lost both his best friends, and what was once a trio bustling with energy now felt like an abandoned and desolate place. The laughter that had once filled the air now echoed back as haunting memories in his heart. 

No words, no gestures, no comfort could bridge the chasm that had opened in his soul - a void that could never be filled, a longing that could never be satisfied.

just so you guys know, i wrote this story while i was on a call with this certain crush that inspired this story lol XD but he doesn’t know and we’re just minding our own business but still being on the call to keep each other accompany because we’re not sleeping hahaha edit on my a/n: fuck this. i fell asleep on the call again. this happened twice im not letting this happen anymore  also i don’t know why oikawa keeps appearing in my stories like im sure there are other characters too but it seems that he fits these type of topics given his attitude and the fact that there’s iwaizumi to fight him

[hannahssimblr]

I shoulder through the front doors into the fresh spring air, still a little breathless with adrenaline, to where Michelle is waiting for me. She looks unhappy. 

“How did it go?” I say. 

“Oh, awful, they were like robots, so intimidating. I didn’t know what they thought of my work, you know? I really thought I’d start crying at one point.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and that woman was so cold. She was pulling all of these faces at my self portraits and saying they were naive.”

“Oh, God,” In an attempt at reassurance I start rubbing her arm, “I’m sure they liked plenty things about your work.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I sensed they hated all of it.”

“They couldn’t have, it’s probably just your perception, they… I bet they’re harsh to everyone, you know? They probably don’t want to get anyone's hopes up with there being limited places and all…”

She looks at me, “Was yours bad too?”

“Awful,” I say without missing a beat, “Same as you, they gave me nothing. It was hard to tell what they really thought of my work, but they didn’t seem overjoyed by any of it to be honest.”

“Oh,” her shoulders relax, “well if they were like that with you then they must be just playing hard ball.”

“I think so.”

“What if we don’t get in?”

“Well fuck ‘em,” I grin, “We don’t need them. NCAD? Who cares, right? It’s not exactly at the top of our list.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

“Something else will work out, right?”

“Of course it will! C’mon, let’s just grab a coffee and chill out,” I drape my arm over her shoulder and walk her around the corner to where I parked the car. 

The car, the brand new, shiny, blue Volkswagen Polo that my parents got me for my eighteenth birthday, is gleaming under the afternoon sun, one tyre wedged awkwardly against the kerb because I haven’t yet mastered the art of parallel parking when there are two other impatient drivers beeping their horns at me and gesticulating wildly out their windows. 

“He just got his fucking licence, you spas!” Michelle screamed at them from the passenger window as I manoeuvred myself into a gap big enough to house an articulated truck but somehow felt the width of a water closet as soon as I tried to fit my 1.0 litre hatchback into it. I could have told her that firing middle fingers at other drivers left and right wasn’t really doing much to diffuse the situation, but it seemed she was reaching some sort of catharsis from it. She likes that. Screaming, I mean.

This car has been a point of contention, not because I can’t park it well, but because it was an extravagance I neither needed nor desired. “We live in the city,” I protested when my parents handed me the keys, “I can just take the bus.” But they had this idea that I might like to drive it into school and be the envy of all the other students, poverty stricken losers without parents who can buy them vehicles worth half the average national salary. I told them I can just walk like always, and they didn’t like that. 

“This is a good present,” said my dad, as though insisting could make it so, “You can drive all over, you won’t have to rely on public transport any more.”

“Did I say I didn’t like public transport?”

“Well, you could get mugged on the bus, someone could pull out a knife and take your phone and all of your money! That kind of thing is happening all over the city lately.”

I showed him my Nokia from 2004 and asked him what kind of person might like to risk prison for it, but he didn’t appreciate that, and it just escalated the argument further. 

“I’m not going to even live in Ireland in a year, not if I can help it!” I cried with exasperation, after a further ten minutes of his dramatics, “What’s the point?”

“Sell it then!” he bellowed back, “I don’t care what you do! It’s yours!”

“I just don’t need it! It’s too much. You can use that money for something better.”

“Money? Money is not an issue.”

“Well that car will be wasted just sitting in the driveway.”

“You’ll figure out what to use it for.”

And I did. I still walk to school, I still take the bus into town most days (when I’m not hauling two A1 portfolio cases along with me), but sometimes, late at night Michelle and I drive up and down the coast. We get ice cream at the drive through, we talk, but mostly I park it in the darkest corner of some car park, sea facing for maximum romance, and we fuck in the passenger seat. Not that I’ve kept track of it by any means, but I’m almost certain I have spent more time having sex in my shiny, blue, Volkswagen Polo than actually driving it. I’m sure it wasn’t Christopher’s intention for it, and it might affect the resale value, but the car has become a haven of sorts, a place where we can go to be alone, at a safe distance from my nosy sister, from Michelle’s anxious father, and perhaps most vitally, from Jen, who has never quite stopped being weirded out by our relationship, even with nine full months to get used to it.

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[cal-daisies-and-briars]

new key!!! 🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲magical au hoh buck?? yes pls 🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼 need more shannon in my life thank you!! 🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕buck & bobby and eddie & chim???????????????? say less ⚡⚡⚡⚡and to help you with this one

HELL YEAH! Let's go!

30 for 🌲:

---

A two word sentence is actually rather articulate these days. 

“I was just calling, because… Well, we had a sort of hard call at work this week. With a kid - a teenager, just a little bit older than you, and… I just miss you, I guess. And I wanted to check in.”

Eddie is expecting Christopher’s usual wall of stony apathy in response, but instead, he gets something different. Some sort of emotion. Chris’ mouth twitches. His eyes dart around, searching for a response.

“I…” He trails off. “Uh, what happened on the call?” 

Whoa.

Okay, damn. A question. An honest to god question.

“Weston,” Eddie says. “He’s on his high school’s cheer team. At a game, a football player crashed into him, and he fell and broke his pelvis really badly.”

Chris winces. “Ow.” 

“Yeah, he was in a lot of pain,” Eddie says. “But he’s a trooper. He’ll be okay.”

“That’s good,” Chris says. “Will he still be able to cheer?” 

“I don’t know yet,” Eddie admits. “I hope so. Seemed like he was pretty good at it.”

---

39 for 🔼:

---

Probably not a great time to process. There is, potentially, more blood in his dick than his head at the current moment. But, overall, Buck thinks the current makeout is sort of significant for several reasons. First being, it’s Eddie. Eddie Diaz. His best friend. Who is married with a wife. A wife that also kissed Buck. It bears saying that Buck is fairly certain he never kissed any married people before he met them. Now he’s kissed his way through a whole legal union. But also, Eddie is a guy. A man. Historically, Buck doesn’t kiss men. 

To be honest, at this juncture, Buck isn’t sure why he hasn’t kissed men before. Because honestly? This is sort of great. Eddie’s hands are big and strong and a little calloused and it’s sort of thrilling. Buck has him pressed against the door now, but Buck knows Eddie could flip him around and take control just as easily. He smells good. Like cedar. Buck thinks he’d like to kiss him until he runs out of oxygen.

Unfortunately, Eddie doesn’t seem to think that’s a good plan.

“Wait,” he pants, breaking the kiss. “Wait, Buck.”

Crushed, Buck steps back. He drops his hands to his side. His lips are still buzzing. 

“Sorry,” he blurts.

“What? No, don’t be sorry,” Eddie says. “I just… I have to pick up Chris soon.”

“Oh,” Buck exhales. “Right.”

Right. Other things exist. 

---

39 for 🤕:

---

“Only parts of it,” Bobby says. “But, listen… I need you to free me, carefully. You can’t be doing too much, okay? I can’t have you hurting yourself worse.”

“And we don’t want to cause further collapse,” Buck reasons.

“That too,” Bobby agrees. “Start with my arms, then I can help.”

“Okay,” Buck says. 

Carefully, Buck gets to work cutting the pinned fabric of Bobby’s turnout coat from the fallen rebar, and removing any other debris on top of him. Bobby winces at one point. There’s probably a small injury, some bruising or a sprain. Nothing life threatening, Buck would guess. But, then again… Bobby thinks he has a brain injury. Maybe he shouldn’t be guessing anything at all. 

Within a minute or so, they’re able to get to a place where Bobby can prop himself up a bit more on his elbows. 

“Okay,” he tells Buck. “I can feel my legs enough to help you, I think. I’ll push up, and all you need to do is hold the concrete up long enough for me to slip out.”

“Alright,” Buck says. “Got it.”

“Count of three, okay?” Bobby prepares him. 

“Okay.”

Buck gets a firm grip on the edges of the concrete slab over Bobby’s legs. 

“Okay, three… Two… One…”

Bobby grunts as he pushes the slab upward. Buck lifts, body twisted so that the majority of effort is concentrated in his abdomen. A stab of pain cries out from his gut.

“I’m free, I’m moving,” Bobby says. “Hold on.”

Bobby shimmies out, hissing in pain as he does.

The moment he’s clear, Buck drops the slab with a hefty exhale. His gloved hand flies to his stomach, to the source of the pain. 

---

12 for ⚡:

---

Determined to get to the bottom of his feelings - and whether or not they’re justified - he talks to Bobby. He’s always been able to talk to Bobby. That’s nothing new. But ever since they actually talked out everything between them - their place in each other’s lives - it feels even more natural. Like, duh? Obviously he should bring everything to Bobby. Especially if it involves Bobby’s future grandchild.

He tells Bobby everything in his office during a slower shift at work, the day before Eddie has arranged for them to meet Lourdes with Pepa. Bobby listens quietly as Buck explains his position. 

“Am I being an asshole?” Buck asks. “Because it sort of feels like my opinion is like… Crappy?”

[elkian]

Oh yeah since it’s Homestuck Day here’s a post I’ve been sitting on for a bit.

Davesprite’s tragedy is even deeper than is immediately obvious.

The scale, time-wise, of the base game - the Alpha Timeline - is something of a joke. It pokes fun, I think, at the concept of Webcomic Time - that an event taking place over dozens of pages over the course of months is, in-canon, only taking place across a day or two.

But Davesprite. Oh, Davesprite.

Dave-the-sprite came from a timeline 4 months (chrono) past Day 1. He’d been hopping enough for it to come out to maybe 1 year for him. He’s very lanky in the animation, and when Rose’s dreamself merges with her Alpha self, the sprites are very slightly different sizes. Future Mutie is visibly older.

But then The Alpha Timeline? The Course Of The Game?

One. Day.

What an absolute whiplash, you guys. He’s been grinding and prepping and mentally readying himself and fucking grieving for his pretty much only friends for nearly a year. Remember how Dragon Ball Z had the Hyper time chamber and it was mentioned that it’s hard to use alone? Because being in there on your lonesome, that’s tough. That’s Dave. He had Rose, who was also grieving and having her own crises that he may or may not have been equipped to help her through at all, and he’s doing all this.

And in like, maybe 12 hours, it’s suddenly all over.

And then he finds out it’s gonna be another three years, but hey, this time he has Jade and John, the people he missed so desperately that he was willing to give up being The Real Dave, a real human, for.

And to them? He’s an extra.

He’s Bonus Dave. He’s Davesprite. He’s Basically Dave, (almost) As Good As The Real Thing!

Like, it’s very hard for me to articulate, but the way that both of them refer to him during the course of their cruise is... dehumanizing, in differing ways.

John calls him Dave, because He’s Basically Dave. (This is after John asked him to let The Real Dave in on their convo, recall). He doesn’t need to be treated any different, because he’s indistinguishable from The Real Dave, Pretty Much!

Jade isn’t as bad - possibly her stint as+fusion with Jadesprite helped - but the way Grimbark Jade loses her temper with Dave post-jump is... telling. She blames a boy she hasn’t spoken with in 3 years for something that a person who is not actually him did.

And he just! Fucking gets forgotten! I know Davepeta feels like an asspull to many readers, but honestly, it’s probably the best thing to happen to Davesprite since his John bit it. Like, was he the one from John’s timeline, or did he not die when the rebooted planet blew up or what? I’ve never understood that.

At least as Davepeta they have multiple people who are genuinely glad to be around them. At least Equius cares about one half and AR doesn’t not-care about the other and they’ve basically got a bestie in Arquiusprite! Getting fused with a reanimated alien catgirl in an alternate timeline(????) was probably the best thing to happen to Dave for a long, long time.

And I’m not even done!

Let’s talk Terezi.

Once we get through Act 5 and the trolls connect with the humans, we get a whole Fairy Godtroll situation that’s kinda cute. John gets Karkat and Vriska in his ear, Jade gets Tavros and Feferi and Kanaya and Karkat (Jade gets a lot of new people, doesn’t she?), Rose still has her Kanaya convos.

And Dave.

Gets.

Terezi.

They’re a great duo, very fun to watch - even with Vriska and Terezi’s weird rivalry shenanigans getting tangled up in it from time to time. As far as he knows, she’s just a bit of an internet weirdo who’s fun enough to hang out with.

As far as Alpha Dave knows, that is.

Davesprite came back, remember, to fix the timeline after Terezi got his John killed. Dave comes back, and argues with his John - that’s the first thing he gets to say to his best friend, one of his only friends, after a year of grieving in a dead, lonely session with only Rose for company. If he loses the fight, John dies.

After some effort, he gets his dumbass (beloved) pal to stop doing the stupid thing, then gives up his humanity (his existence as a core player, his role, his autonomy) and jumps into the sprite. Calsprite was a void of dead-eyed laughter and horror, so he wants to give the kids the best shot they can get, and having a non-cagey sprite on their side is a huge boost.

And Dave, Alpha Dave?

He ignores this.

He takes Terezi’s advice, over and over. Davesprite gives him the medallion, and we never see it used (we never see any sprite medallion used, as far as I can recall). Davesprite has to actively contact his player (his luckier, prime, Alpha self) and make him accept help, like guarding his body in his sleep. Meanwhile, Alpha Dave is getting codec support from the person who killed John, precipitating Davesprite’s entire existence in the narrative.

With the way the comic is structured, it’s really easy to blip over this, but this is what’s happening. Davesprite’s POV must be a goddamn horror movie, complete with futile shouting at the protagonists to stop going into the scary tunnels and following the advice of people who are blatantly out to hurt them. No fucking wonder he eventually fucked off the find Bro, who despite being an abusive piece of shit (did Davesprite ever get the chance to work that one out for himself?), is at least a constant. He’s the sole tie to the life this Dave left behind. Damn. And Dave doesn’t even come looking for him after he “dies”! If Davesprite didn’t vandalize that poster, would Alpha Dave have even known he was alive?

....fuck, is that why he keeps pasting orange text onto things? And provoking John into anger? Is he just doing his damnedest to keep from being trivialized and forgotten?

In the story, in the grand scheme of things, Davesprite is key to keep John from getting killed, and past that?

He has no purpose.

There’s no point to his existence.

His player seeks neither his advice nor his protection. His friends consider him part of the game they’re playing, rather than (an iteration of) their friend. The trolls mock him by doing nothing he can stop or really argue against. His rage has nowhere to go, so he has no rage.

No wonder he chases after Bro. No wonder he chills with Jadesprite. No wonder, no wonder. What a mess. What a disaster. He spends three years on the damn ship and as soon as the groups meet up, Jade begins projecting the time he spent with her on a guy she hasn’t seen since she was 13! And Alpha Dave just says “well, he’s bird me” and accepts this, except when he might get blamed for something he didn’t actually do!

God.

[roosterbruiser]

𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 — 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

—𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐓. 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒. 𝐌𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐑. —𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟒.𝟕𝐊 —𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 —𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐒, 𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝐓𝐇, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟕

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Fanboy starts, picking at his hotdog. 

Payback pretends to be exasperated, rolling his eyes. But Fanboy knows he has his undivided attention. 

“Thinking about Mable being a martyr?” Payback whispers, raising a brow at Mable as she furiously destroys her lunch with her plastic fork and knife. “‘Cause me too.”

They’re sitting at their usual lunch table, all the children chattering and stuffing handfuls of salty chips in their mouths. Dotted all along the lunch room, the rest of the counselors are quietly chatting or tying shoes or opening juice boxes. A peculiar sense of alarm has settled over everyone--which is largely due to the fact that Mable Brandt won’t touch her food, keeps clutching pages of her destroyed bible, and keeps removing her bandage to stare at the cut on her arm. 

“Nah,” Fanboy says softly, glancing at Mable. Her hotdog is in little chunks before her and she’s just staring down at her plate now. “Maybe someone else oughta learn how to use the shotgun.” 

Payback makes a face--screwing his face up in discontent. 

“Why? Seresin’s our best shot.” 

Fanboy isn’t sure how to articulate it to Payback. If he had no filter, if he was totally honest, he’d just say that he was scared. Scared that someone came to camp last night and attacked Mable, scared that Mable maybe did it to herself. He’s scared, most of all, that it was someone in this lunch room. Whether it was a camper or a counselor or Paul or--fuck, he doesn’t know. And he’s scared because he doesn’t know. 

Payback’s chewing slows as he watches his best friend stare down at the wooden table before him. He can see it clear as day: Fanboy’s worried. Scared, even. 

“Yeah, that actually probably would be better, wouldn’t it?” Payback says softly. “You know, in case Seresin loses his marbles.” 

“Or gets hacked.” 

Fanboy and Payback chuckle.

“He will,” Mable pipes up softly. 

Payback whirls around to face her. She won’t look up from her plate.

“Didn’t quite catch that, kiddo,” Payback says slowly. “What’d you say?” 

“Mister Jake. He’s going to get hacked.” 

Luckily, she isn’t speaking loud enough to get the attention of any of the other campers. But she is all Fanboy and Payback can see right now. 

“What do you mean?” Fanboy asks softly. If he wore a cross necklace, he’d sure be clutching it right now. “Like, hacked?”

“He’s going to be cut up with an ax,” Mable says softly. “That’s what they said to me.”

A stone sinks in Fanboy’s belly. He swallows hard, glances at Payback--who is staring down at Mable perplexed. 

“Who?”

Mable just glances down at her bandages. Blood is beginning to seep through them.She presses the pad of her thumb down over the blood, ignores the burn, and focuses on the warmth that grows there. 

“I got in its way,” Mable explains. She’s been thinking about this all night. She’s a smart girl--beyond her years, so mature for her age. She’s smart enough to look back on what happened and deduce a few points. “It was looking for Mister Jake.”

“How do you know that?” Fanboy asks, leaning in closer. 

Payback sighs quietly. 

“Don’t egg her on, man,” he insists. 

Fanboy silences him with an open palm. 

“It was going to his cabin. Only, I got in its way.” 

“Well, it wouldn’t have found him there, anyway,” Payback says, crossing his arms. 

He just isn’t sure how well he believes this tale. And he’s annoyed that Fanboy is so interested in it, leaning forward with a glassy look in his eyes like what Mable says is gospel. 

This is how people get indoctrinated in cults, Payback thinks.

“I know,” Mable whispers. “He was with Nurse Nightingale.” 

Fanboy looks at Payback, reeling. 

Payback isn’t amused. 

“Well, whoever it was--they didn’t hack you up. So, what makes you think they wanted to do that to Mister Jake?” 

The tips of Fanboy’s fingers are numb with fear. Even basked in the warm sunshine, even among all these campers and counselors, even with his favorite lunch before him--he’s scared. He almost doesn't want to know her answer.

“It--it…well, I just know, okay? Don’t you believe me?” 

Finally, Mable looks up. And it’s when Payback sees that fat tears have settled in her eyes. She grips the wooden table and shakes her head softly at Payback. 

“I know what the Devil looks like. I saw it last night. It wanted my blood!”

Other campers have turned towards Mable now. Her cheeks are red and her eyes are wet and she’s beginning to shiver in her spot, not breaking her gaze away from Payback. And as if in a trance, Payback can’t break his gaze from her. 

“It wanted my blood!” She cries again, louder now. So loud that she’s gotten the attention of the other tables around her. “It stunk of sulfur and it hated me for loving God! It tore my Bible and tried to shake my faith, but it cannot!” Mable stands now, pointing a finger at Payback with her eyes wide. “It wanted my blood and it wants more! It will feast on everyone here! We will bathe in our own blood and be torn limb by limb as the depths of Hell calls for us! There is no way out! There is no way out!” 

Frozen in terror, you watch from your spot beside Bradley. Not even the heat of his body can bring you back into your body as you watch Mable come undone, spit flinging from her chapped lips as she screams at Payback. 

Everyone is silent besides her, campers reaching for each other’s hands beneath the table, counselors lips parted in shock.

“Mable, that’s enough,” Payback insists. “Sit down and finish your hotdog.” 

With that, Mable grabs her tin plate and chucks it across the room. It clatters against the wooden wall and sends the hotdog straight to the floor in a puddle of ketchup. 

“Mable,” Fanboy says, voice quivering. “Calm down, kid.” 

“There will be no calm when the Devil comes for us all! He is among us! He’s here! He’s in this room! I can feel his spirit, I can smell his stench!” 

That’s when Coyote and Hangman step in. 

Each of them takes one of her arms, pulling her away from the table. 

“Calm down, honey,” Hangman soothes, brow furrowed. “Let’s get some air.” 

Mable, who’s letting her heels scrape against the floor as the entire canteen population watches her get dragged out, looks up at him with a most sorrowful gaze. 

“You’re not going to make it to the end of summer, Mister Jake. Is your soul saved?”

Coyote scoffs loudly, slamming the doors open. 

“I’ve had about enough of that doom and gloom talk,” Coyote says seriously. “Cut it out now.” 

“Accept Christ in your heart and I can baptize you, Mister Jake,” Mable continues, wriggling out of Coyote’s grip, squinting up at the sun, and cupping Hangman’s cheek before he can stop her. “Your soul is not doomed yet.” 

“Mable Brandt,” Coyote chastizes. “You just--you know what? You’re gonna sit in the cabin for the rest of the day. Think real hard about this Bible-thumping thing you’re so keen on. Christ, kid.”

Hangman removes her sticky hand from his cheek. And then they start across the courtyard to her cabin, not responding when Mable begins begging for release from this evil place. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t exactly describe anywhere in Maine as evil,” Hangman huffs to Coyote. “Ain’t that reserved for the West?” 

Once they’ve settled Mable in her cabin and stepped back out into the heat, the severity of her words sink into Hangman. He’s a logical man from a God-fearing family. He knows that the Devil must be real in some capacity--how else would anyone explain Charles Manson or Ted Bundy? But the thought of the Devil being here, at Camp Arcadia, and wanting him? That can’t be real--surely not. 

“She’s full of it, man,” Coyote says softly, clapping a hand on Jake’s sweaty shoulder. “Don’t worry about her. I’m pretty sure she cut herself.” 

Jake shrugs. 

“No skin off my back. Literally.”

 Fanboy and Payback are waiting for them when they return to the canteen. Both of them, even Payback, are standing with their jaws clenched and their lashes fluttering. 

“You need to teach someone else how to shoot,” Fanboy says seriously, squinting up at Jake. “Just in case.” 

Hangman starts to scoff, but then Payback makes a sound of agreement. 

“Oh, God--not you two too? Mable’s sitting in first class on the crazy train,” Coyote says. 

He waits for some sort of reaction--the men to admit that they’re being paranoid, the men to laugh it off. But Payback and Fanboy just stare at them. 

“Someone else needs to be a good shot,” Payback says. 

“Someone at least needs to know how to shoot it.” 

The small smile that is gracing Hangman’s face is slowly beginning to fade. 

He can see it--the fear. And it makes his belly turn sour. 

“Okay,” Hangman simply agrees. “Who?” 

It’s the second time this week you’ve pulled the short stick.

“Alright, Butch Cassidy,” you mutter to him with the short spaghetti noodle in your grasp. “I’ll be your Sundance Kid.”  

Jake stifles a chuckle and shakes his head seriously. 

“Take this seriously!” Jake demands. “We could be attacked at any time!” 

“By the Devil!” Phoenix says, clutching her chest in mock-terror. 

“Or worse…” Bob starts softly, shaking his head. 

“Ronald Reagan?” You ask, perching a brow. 

You chew on the short noodle as everyone laughs. 

And then a strange quietness settles over all the counselors. All the kiddos have been dismissed to the courtyard to play so the lot of you could draw sticks. And all huddled up here, after Mable’s explosion, there seems to be so much to talk about that no one knows where to begin. 

“I-I know this is gonna sound shitty,” Bob starts finally, his tongue thick with nerves. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and glances at everyone carefully. “But where was everyone last night? Not accusing…I’m just…covering all our bases.” 

“Mable did it to herself,” Coyote insists. “She had to have! None of the knives were missing, we haven’t had any incidents before that. What, she get cut with an ax?” 

“Nope, that was Bradshaw,” you pipe up, bumping Bradley. 

Rooster nods, holding out his bandaged hand. 

“Okay, well, if Mable did it to herself--how? With what weapon?” Fanboy asks, voice hushed but urgent. 

“A loose nail? Her teeth?” Payback suggests. 

“Cut was too precise for that,” you sigh, pushing your hair out of your face. “It was something sharp.” 

Phoenix hums to herself for a moment, fanning her warm face. 

“What about a seashell?” 

You glance at her--she’s already looking at you. 

“Like, a broken up seashell?” You ask. Huh. You hadn’t considered that. But there are shells that dot the shore of the lake--you’re sure Mable could figure out how to break one. “I mean--yeah, that’s a possibility. Maybe a stone, too.” 

“Now we’re cooking with oil,” Bradley sighs, wiping his brow. “Okay, but why?” 

Before anyone can hypothesize, Bob pipes up again. 

“And why the fixation with Jake?” 

Jake’s throat goes dry. He doesn’t let it show on his tanned face; his mustache is still bushy, his hip is still jutted, his shorts are still short. 

“Who could resist, man?” Coyote answers for him, nudging Jake. “Half the camp is probably crushing on him!” 

“There’s a difference between a crush and whatever the fuck we just saw,” Phoenix says, frowning. “That wasn’t normal.” 

Payback shrugs. 

“In all fairness, Mable isn’t normal.” 

No one disagrees. 

With everyone standing here with their ringer shirts and short-shorts and sweaty faces and squinted eyes and slight smiles, it’s peculiar that anything bad could ever happen here. It’s peculiar, most of all, that you’re even having to discuss the Devil. 

“Well, either way, we all know where Mister Jake was last night. With his Number One Camp Crush.” 

Your heart sinks into your belly when Fanboy nudges you playfully. 

Oh, fuck. 

Now is about the time you wish the world would open up and swallow you whole. 

Bradley’s brows are furrowed. 

Jake, biting a cocky grin, rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, buzz off,” he insists, crossing his arms over his chest. “Mind your potatoes!”

“Oh, so that’s where you were last night?” Coyote asks with a grin, nudging Jake. “My man!”

“She had a nightmare,” Jake insists, truly trying to save face. 

You groan, shaking your head. 

“Alright, I’m gonna head out before we get too regressive here,” you sigh, hands on your hips. “Gimme a ring when you wanna step back into the twentieth century, alright?”

Spinning on your heel, you start to walk back to the Nurse’s Cabin before anyone can see how flustered you are. And you certainly don’t want Bradley to see that--nor do you want to see his face when he figures out. 

“You’re all idiots,” Phoenix sighs. “Bob, let’s skitty.” 

But, true to Bradshaw fashion, you’re only in the confines of the cabin for less than a minute before Bradley is standing in the doorway. 

Jake decides to watch from the courtyard, resisting the urge to rub it in Bradshaw’s face. He knows you can fight your own battles. 

“Really?” He asks softly. 

There’s a fire lit in his belly now. And, God--it isn’t even that you were messing around with someone. It’s that it’s Jake. Jake fucking Seresin. That fucking goofball? 

“What?” You ask, making yourself busy with organizing the countertop. 

“Him?” 

You’re hot all over. 

“I’m not in the mood for this right now,” you tell Bradley, shaking your head and chewing on your lower lip. “Not after the night I’ve had.” 

Bradley is watching you with a hardened gaze. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you did have a night, huh?” 

That stops you dead in your tracks. Gripping the counter, you turn on your heel and stare at him. He’s staring right back at you, looking tall and broad and fucking pissed. 

“Did we get married last summer and I magically forgot about it? ‘Cause last time I checked, you and I aren’t an item. I check single on all my paperwork.” 

Wounded, Bradley steps into the cabin and shakes his head at you. 

“Don’t dumb it down to that.” 

The tired in your bones is beginning to vibrate. You hold your face for a moment, wipe the sweat from your skin, and shake your head at him.

“You flirt with me for three months out of the year. Then we go our separate ways. That’s kinda what we do.” 

His heart is hammering. 

“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me we aren’t a little bit more than that!” 

“Are we?” You challenge, shrugging.

His lip twitches. 

“Yeah, we are.” 

Throwing your hands up in the air, an exasperated laugh tumbles from your lips. 

“News to me, buddy!” 

A lull falls over the two of you. Distantly, other counselors are starting to gather the axes and talk about breaking into shifts. Kids are playing. Birds are singing. The lake is rippling. The radio in the corner is playing Tainted Love by Soft Cell. 

“News to you, huh?” He asks, his voice lower and softer now. Just barely, you nod. Your thighs are beginning to quiver. “It’s not news to me.” 

And, really, what he means is that he’s crazy about you. He may only see you for three months of the year, but he thinks about you for twelve months of the year. He can smell jasmine year-round when he thinks of burying his nose in your hair. You’re like a private garden, one that sits between his skull and the soft and pink parts of his brain. You’re with him. It’s as simple as that. You’re with him. 

“We didn’t have sex,” you say, face burning. You’re not even sure why you’re saying it other than it just feels like the right thing to say. “Not that it’s any of your business.” 

But isn’t it? 

“You’re together now?” He asks. 

You shake your head quickly. 

“No.” 

He nods. It’s quiet again. 

“Good,” he sighs. “Summer ain’t over yet.”  

♀

All you can smell right now is the lake. The musty scent of moss and the distant stench of fish coat your nostrils so thickly that you want to step away from the water, backtrack up the rocks and find your place further inland beside Phoenix and Bob--who are manning a game of Freeze Tag.

Further up the courtyard, the campers who aren’t running around are all lazing around. The other counselors are still taking shifts chopping the tree so there’s been plenty of camp-wide games today. No campers have particularly wanted to do a whole lot today--not with Mable telling everyone that the Devil came to Camp Arcadia last night and cut her good. 

“It wanted my blood,” she’s been telling everyone, pointing to her bandages.

No one is quite sure what to believe. 

Right now, though--you don’t want to think about it. You just want to think about standing here on the shore of the lake, where you’re unable to move. 

You can’t because Jake is standing just behind you, his body molded to yours. With his chin atop your head and his arms wrapped around your own, you’re solid as concrete right here with the waves racing up the rocks to lap at the rubber toes of your jellies. 

“And then you just cock it, alright?”

He cocks it himself, using your curled fingers as mere vessels. It’s hard and heavy in your hands, even if Jake’s holding most of the weight. Metal settles beneath your tongue.  

Huffing, you shake your head. The sun beating down on you is like three thousand heat lamps. It’s making you feel muggy, your head thick with cotton and your mouth chalky from not having eaten anything since that muffin this morning. And to make matters worse, Jake won’t take the gun out of your hands so you can tie your hair up.

“I really wish you’d stop using that word.” 

Jake grins--beams, really. He knows you’re grumpy this morning. After the interruption, you both knew you wouldn’t be able to swing sleeping in the same cabin. No one slept very well at all--who could when one of the campers was sliced and diced? And even without all of that commotion, he knows that you had it worse because of the nightmare. He thought about you being alone in your cabin all night long, blinking up at the water stained ceiling in his own cabin. 

And despite your less-than-stellar mood, he’s fallen comfortably back into his role of elementary-aged boy with a crush on y-o-u.

“Fine--jerk it.” 

Teeth sinking into your lower lip, an aggravated sigh floods your lips. It settles comfortably in the muggy air staining your skin and rings through Jake's ears sweetly, like the song of the cicadas. When he’s sure no one is looking, he presses a lewd and hasty kiss to the crown of your head, which makes the sun feel blistering. 

You’re fairly certain you’re about to be reduced to a sugary, sweat-spiked puddle not unlike those left behind by Rooster’s chicks when they have Popsicle Hour.

“I don’t even wanna do this,” you insist, irritation chewing your tone. “I don’t even think I believe in guns.” 

Jake scoffs. 

“Everyone believes in guns.”

Any attempt to keep the peace with Jake is squashed beneath the thick heel of your scoff. 

“Why, Toto! I don’t think we’re in Texas anymore!” 

You click your heels three times--Jake pinches your hip, but finds himself pleased and adoring as ever. Sure, you’re acting like this now. But you’re letting him hold you--Hell, you’re holding a gun to mostly appease him. Or, that’s what he chooses to believe. 

And you certainly weren’t acting like this last night. That knowledge seems to be keeping Jake afloat while battling your never-ending exasperation and general distaste for companionship today.

“Keep your heels planted,” he instructs, a bead of sweat dripping down his face and into your hair. You don’t seem to notice, thank God. When you begin to grumble, Jake squeezes the curve of your waist. “You ever have to shoot someone, you’re gonna be glad you had your old pal Jake to show you how to not get knocked onto your ass from the recoil.” 

“Do you even know how brawny I am, birdbrain? I can hoist up anyone and their mama off a gurney!” You argue. 

Nonetheless, you plant your heels into the ground and straighten your spine.

Jake knows it’s fruitless to argue with you. The only way you’ll let up is if he lets you pull the trigger for yourself--although the thought of you soaring through the air and landing flat on your back makes Jake stiffen with discomfort.

“Baby, darlin’, sweetheart, honey…” Jake starts, sighing. His breath fans across your sticky cheek and you swallow thickly, blinking rapidly when a bead of sweat lands on your lashes. “Chill, huh? Let’s walk through it again.”

So you do walk through it again. Jake strokes the parts of your body that require changing: knees slightly bent, feet planted firmly shoulder-width apart, left jelly-clad foot a bit ahead of the other, chest pushed in every-so-slightly to mirror that foot. 

“I feel like an idiot,” you grumble, wrinkling your nose. 

“Baby, you’ve never looked better.”

“Guns really get your engine revving?” 

Jake laughs. 

“Alright, space cadet. Go ahead and flick that safety off.”

“Oh, get lost,” you mutter to him. 

You switch the safety off anyway. 

Slowly, Jake releases your body so you’re standing on your lonesome with the gun. It’s much heavier without him taking the brunt of the weight--so heavy that you’d have stumbled if you weren’t annoyingly balanced in this stance. 

Jake watches you from a safe distance, his shorts digging into the meat of his thighs as he stands with them flexed. You look good holding a shotgun--the wood smooth in your dexterous hands, the metal dark gleaming in the sunlight, your lip bitten and your eyes lasered in on the target across the lake. 

You can do this--he knows it and so do you. 

“Okay,” Jake says, eyebrows furrowed as the heat of summer pours over your two forms. “You got it, baby. Just breathe in, find that trigger, and exhale when you squeeze. It’s real easy. Promise.” 

“Promise,” you mock. Jake doesn’t so much as flinch. “And what’re you gonna do for me when I get a bullseye, huh?” 

He opens his mouth to say something less-than camp appropriate despite your mood. He figures he can get away with it, too, since you’re a bit preoccupied with the shotgun. Jake doesn’t see Bradley approaching, ringing his hands together as his blisters settle into the soft flesh there. But Bradley’s seen most of what’s happened between the two of you--which is why he’s honing in on interrupting.

“Well, I could--!”  

“--I’m sure he can think of something,” Bradley interrupts, hands on his hips as he falls in place beside Jake. Both of the men stiffen--Bradley smells like oak and moss, having taken a double of tree-cutting time just to get away from all the hullabaloo at camp. “Like, say--an extra muffin. Or filling in for me at the tree so we can get some alone time.”

When you hear his voice, your spine prickles. Your body is aflame and all you can do is chew your lip and stare straight ahead. You suppose, in some strange and cosmic way, you’re always prepared for Bradley to show up and make your heart race.  

“You know she has a gun, cassanova,” Jake says with a sneer. “We really shouldn’t be pissing her off.” 

Rooster scoffs.

“I couldn’t piss Gale off if I tried,” Rooster insists rather smugly, wiping his blistered hands on his bare thighs before snatching your canteen off the dirt floor and taking a long swig. “Ain’t that right, honey?” 

“The good thing about shotguns is that they have two bullets,” you say.

Atta girl, Jake thinks. He doesn’t mind that you’re threatening to shoot him, too.  

 “She was just about to shoot,” Jake says to Bradley, jerking his chin to the spot beside him. “Step back or else.”

“Oh, real freaky-deaky, man,” Rooster taunts, rolling his eyes and wiping his wet lips with the back of his sweaty hand. “I think I know how to--!” 

He’s rudely interrupted by the blast. It’s the loudest thing anyone has ever heard at Camp Arcadia--it reverberates off the rippling lakewater, sears through the muggy air, slices a few mosquitos on its way, then embeds itself in the spray-painted hay. 

Jake can’t believe it. He can tell from here beside you, cupping his gaze and staring across the lake. 

Bullseye. 

There’s certainly going to be a bruise on your shoulder now--but you didn’t fall flat on your ass like you thought you would. You’re counting it as a win, not even bothering to see where your bullet punctured as you slowly take your finger off the trigger and engage safety again. 

“Holy shit!” Jake exclaims. And before you really know what’s happening, he’s pushing the gun out of your hands and putting it in Rooster’s hands as he scowls at the ringing in his ears, wrapping you up in his arms with a joyous grin. “Bullseye, bullseye, bullseye!” 

“What--really?” You ask, scrambling to hold onto him as he spins you in a circle. 

His scent permeates you--drowns you. All that familiar sweat, soap, dirt. It makes you think about last night when his face was in your throat and his hand was between your legs. God--it makes you want him. And you still have gunpowder on your hands.    

“You’re acting surprised,” Bradley points out, still grimacing as his ears vibrate. “Like you didn’t know she’d get one.” 

“Get lost, Bradshaw! Don’t shit on my picnic!” 

But then you catch Rooster’s gaze as it settles on you in Jake’s arms. His eyes are half-shut beneath the sun, swimming with a strange sort of grief. So, you wriggle out of Jake’s grip, firmly plant your feet on the shore, then salute both of them. 

You’re thinking about it now, Bradley’s words earlier. 

It’s not news to me.

And who are you to torture him?

“See you at dinner,” you tell them both cordially. You’re fairly certain they’ll be able to hear your heart beating out of your throat. “Don’t kill each other, huh?” 

Bradley and Jake glance at each other. Jake thinks about last night--so does Bradley. Jake’s version of events are more detailed than Bradley will ever know and that fills him with a certain pride. 

“No promises,” Bradley murmurs.

♀

It’s a peculiar feeling. Not unfamiliar, but not something you’ll ever get used to. Every single bit of your body, every little nerve and hair and scar and mole and freckle can feel it. 

You’re being watched.

Except it isn’t the middle of the night and you aren’t alone in your cabin. You’re standing in the Nurse’s Cabin, folding up some linens, singing along to Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins. 

The feeling floods you like a blush. One moment, you’re just listening to the distant sound of axes and kiddos hollering, and the next you’re paralyzed with fear and every hair on your body is stick straight and standing tall. 

It’s silly, you tell yourself when your heart starts to pound. It’s silly. It’s silly. 

Surely, really, actually it isn’t really here watching you. It’s a creature from a nightmare. It’s a figment of your imagination. It’s the middle of the day. Anyone else would be able to see it.  

With every fiber in your being, though, you know that it’s standing at the door watching you. 

There will be no calm when the Devil comes for us all! He is among us! He’s here! He’s in this room! I can feel his spirit, I can smell his stench! 

 A fat raindrop of fear races down the column of your spine as you stare straight ahead at the wall before you. When the stench of sulfur tickles your upper lip, you’re almost certain you’re imagining it. And when you feel it take a step into the cabin, that minuscule vibration and tiny crying of the wood, you’re almost certain you’re not imagining it. 

If you could speak, you’d pray. 

Another step. 

You’re too afraid to turn around. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: MABLE TERRIFIES ME.....

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

[merlins-strawberriesandroses]

I’m not very articulate unfortunately but now that I’ve made this sideblog I wanted to get some thoughts out. I do see the logic when folks say that Arthur mostly experienced bad things in regards to magic, so it makes sense why he was wary of it/didn’t alter the laws since he didn’t know about Merlin’s guardian angel tendencies/etc. BUT. If we’re going with the magic is a queer metaphor (or just using it as one of many real life parallels) then I got to say. If you’re homophobic or your dad’s a queerphobic/bigoted politician who sanctions their murder and you haven’t explicitly said oh yeah I really don’t agree with that. Then queer people will probably not go out of their way to be kind to you while also letting you know they’re queer. They’re going to be wary and many will be antagonistic, and if there are queer people in your life they’ll probably keep mum because saying anything risks their life/security, and even freedom, in a way that’s distinct and sometimes worse than the restriction of freedom the closet imposes. 

In the same vein I feel like well if magic was banned in Camelot, and we know that even innocent people using it for, idk, healing a cut, got persecuted, then why would magic users be tripping over themselves to explicitly show Arthur how they’re using “good” magic. It’d put them in danger! Even if they were being helpful they’d not be telling Arthur they were being magically helpful (on account of the tyrant father’s laws still existing). Only sorcerers who are about to Revenge it Up (or power-grab it up) will likely be found out as sorcerers (on account of the occasional monologue and gold flashing eyes as they try to stab u).

Arthur just couldn’t have realistically seen an equivalently diverse number of people doing benevolent magic as long as all magic, no exceptions, was technically still illegal. (Though he does see some instances of ‘good’ magic!)

And about magical people close to Arthur not telling him for so long (Merlin, Morgs), I think they had many understandable reasons. At one point if you live long enough in a place where various parts of your identity can be legally prosecuted, or are liable to be socially persecuted, it’s physically hard to even get the words out. From personal experience the fear is just very encompassing, and it sucks to think that you very likely have to bear agression or worse if you want to let people you care about know. Plus, for Merlin I imagine a part of the situation was that telling Arthur would risk their closeness, which is pretty important to his ability to protect him. And Merlin believes that if he protects Arthur, the prophecy dictates at some point in the future magic will be legalized (which it does become, but it’s mentioned so briefly at the end. Could we not have had a happier ending??) :( I have a lot of other thoughts on this specific topic that I’ve tearfully jotted down over the years about how I understand why Merlin didn’t tell his friends (I’m less tearful about it now haha I was just Going Through It back then), but I fear I’ll still be incomprehensible and even more rambly, so I’ll avoid doing that right now. ANYWAY sorry for the ramble. I just made this sideblog and realized I can share some of the things that have been rolling around in my mind for years. Okay now I’m gonna go back to being in denial over the ending :) 

[dinogoose]

how long would you wait for me?

His body grows tense under Eddie’s hands, as he heaves out a sigh, “…I can’t stand Marisol. Which makes me feel terrible because she’s nice and beautiful and just overall perfect-“

Eddie cuts him off, his eyebrows furrowing in complete confusion, “What does Marisol have to do with this?” He asks, his grip still secure on Buck’s shoulders, no matter how hard the blonde tries to shake him.

“God- She’s- I can’t- Ugh!” Buck exclaims, unable to articulate properly due to the emotions racing through him.

“Buck,” Eddie begins placatingly, “what’s been going on with you? You’ve been distant, and now you’re angry with me and… Marisol?” He says the last part as a question which makes Buck huff bitterly.

“I’m not ‘angry’ with you or her- I’m in love with you!”

(or, buck is avoiding eddie.)

Buck hates Marisol.

Okay, well, maybe not hate considering he’s met her a grand total of one time. But, he doesn’t like her. Or maybe the idea of her. (Or maybe he hates that she has Eddie, gets to be with him, kiss him, love him-)

So, he doesn’t like her. Which has possibly, maybe, affected things with Eddie so greatly that they’re now here, screaming in each other's faces.

“What is your problem?”

Maybe he should start from the beginning.

—

It had started where things always seemed to start between them, the station’s gym.

Buck was doing his usual routine with the punching bag and Eddie was sitting on the bench nearby, waiting his turn, while occasionally commenting on his form- just to fuck with him.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, one of us has more experience with hitting things.” Buck teases after Eddie’s third comment on his elbow positioning, and Eddie snorts knowing Buck means zero harm.

“Low blow Buckley.” The blond just beams at him before reaching down for his water bottle.

Eddie's phone buzzes from beside him, and Buck watches as the older man picks it up and smiles at whatever is on screen.

“Who’s that?” Buck questions, playfully cocking a brow.

Eddie doesn’t even look up from his phone before responding, “Just Marisol.” He taps away at his phone, responding to her, and Buck melodramatically regrets coming into work today.

“Oh. That’s cool… So things are going well?” He asks, attempting- and failing -to sound like a supportive best friend who isn’t feeling unreasonably jealous. Thankfully Eddie’s too caught up in texting to notice.

“Yeah, they are. We’re going out again tonight.” The smile stays on Eddie’s face as he says this, letting Buck know he needs to remove himself before he does something irrational (like beg on his knees for a chance to prove himself, prove he’s worth loving).

“That’s great man! Let me know if you need someone to hang out with Christopher.” He offers because despite everything his priorities are still in order.

Eddie looks up from his phone finally, “Nah, Carla’s got it covered, but thanks man, you’re a good friend.” Somehow Buck thinks it would’ve hurt less if Eddie had just decked him in the face.

—

Buck is possibly, maybe- definitely -avoiding Eddie.

Not on calls of course, because Buck knows better now than to let things like this affect work but at the station when he hears Eddie talking about a certain someone, he might suddenly be needed in the opposite direction.

Or when Eddie calls for a guys' night, Buck has spontaneous plans forcing him to decline, or when Eddie is waiting for him in the locker room to call him out on his behavior he decides he prefers his own shower and just leaves.

Okay, so he’s one hundred percent avoiding him.

Which he knows isn’t fair, not at all. Eddie isn’t doing a single thing wrong by dating Marisol. It’s not his fault Buck’s a coward who couldn’t voice his feelings years ago. It’s not his fault that Buck feels so hopeless and insecure anytime even a whisper of her is brought up.

He was able to handle Ana because at the time his feelings hadn’t been what they are now. Hadn’t grown into this thing that consumes every part of himself.

Because of this, he’s felt the need to put distance between them. Allow himself time to figure out what the hell he’s going to do, because realistically he knows that he can’t keep avoiding Eddie, can’t keep blowing him off out of petty jealousy, especially when the older man has done nothing to deserve it.

Buck promises himself that tomorrow he’ll talk to Eddie and apologize. Tomorrow he’ll find some excuse for why he’s been so weird these past couple of weeks. Tomorrow.

—

His plan gets thrown out the window as Eddie seemingly follows him after their shift.

“I know you’re home!” Eddie yells as he continues to pound on his door.

Buck is standing frozen in the middle of his loft, not having expected a confrontation. But then again, he should’ve, because he knows Eddie and Eddie was always going to call him out on his bullshit.

He goes and answers the door, “Hey-“

Eddie does not give him the courtesy of a greeting, instead shoving past him to stand in the middle of the room.

Eddie spins around to face him, “What is your problem?” He demands, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Buck sighs, shutting the door behind him, as he attempts to think of a good excuse.

“I’ve been dealing with a lot of stress-“

“Really? Stress? Stress that makes you leave rooms when I enter them?” Eddie interrupts, sounding extremely unimpressed.

Buck sighs, knowing he needs to be honest, “I know I’ve been avoiding you, and I’m sorry about that. I just have been dealing with some… things, and I needed to get my head right.”

Eddie steps closer to him, placing his hands over his shoulders, and giving him a light squeeze. “Hey,” He starts softly meeting Buck’s eyes, “you can tell me anything you know that right?”

Buck clenches his eyes shut, attempting to keep his emotions at bay as he considers what he can say that won’t ruin everything they’ve built.

A childish part of him wants to scream out, tell Eddie to leave it alone, because he knows the older man won’t want to hear this. But the rational part of him knows Eddie deserves better (better than him).

His body grows tense under Eddie’s hands, as he heaves out a sigh, “…I can’t stand Marisol. Which makes me feel terrible because she’s nice and beautiful and just overall perfect-“

Eddie cuts him off, his eyebrows furrowing in complete confusion, “What does Marisol have to do with this?” He asks, his grip still secure on Buck’s shoulders, no matter how hard the blonde tries to shake him.

“God- She’s- I can’t- Ugh!” Buck exclaims, unable to articulate properly due to the emotions racing through him.

“Buck,” Eddie begins placatingly, “what’s been going on with you? You’ve been distant, and now you’re angry with me and… Marisol?” He says the last part as a question which makes Buck huff bitterly.

“I’m not ‘angry’ with you or her- I’m fucking in love with you!” Buck takes a step back, Eddie’s arms finally dropping, but he isn’t done, “I’ve been in love with you for years. No matter what I did it kept growing, but of course it did because you’re the greatest man I’ve ever met. I don’t know how someone couldn’t fall in love with you.” Buck stubbornly ignores the way his eyes burn with tears, “It was killing me to see her with you, to know you were happy with someone else. And it’s selfish that I’m even telling you this right now because I know you don’t feel the same-“

For the third time in one conversation, Eddie cuts him off.

Lips crashing into his’ stops him from saying another word. The kiss is awkward at first, more of a mashing of mouths than anything else, but then Buck gets with the program tilting his head to give Eddie better access.

A hand comes up to cup his jaw as Eddie presses in closer, the kiss slow, yet no less intense as they move as one.

Buck feels a rush of want go through him as he tries to press even closer to Eddie when he suddenly has a startling thought.

He pushes away, taking a full step back which in turn causes Eddie to sway forward, caught off guard. The older man’s eyebrows scrunch up.

“Eddie, we can’t… What about Marisol?” For a moment a look of bafflement crosses Eddie’s face as though he’s never heard her name before, but then he smiles, stepping forward once more into Buck’s space.

“Buck, I broke up with her a while ago.” The brunette tells him cupping Buck’s face, his thumbs rub soothing circles into his cheeks.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Eddie gives him his patented ‘don’t be stupid Buck’ look, “Oh right because I was avoiding you. But still, why?”

The older man shakes his head as if collecting his thoughts, “Because she wasn’t you. I tried, I really did, but it didn’t matter because the only person I want is you. The only person I… love is you.”

Buck has never felt so happy and so incredibly stupid at once (possibly a lie with his track record). Happy because Eddie loves him, and stupid for avoiding him all this time. Stupid for putting them both through this when there was never a need to.

“I’m so sorry Eds, I got so wrapped up in my head. Like I always do.” He ends with a little self-deprecating jab. Eddie continues to stroke his face, his eyes softer than he’s ever seen.

“I know, and I’ll be right here to knock some sense into you because I love you. You just need to promise me you’ll tell me if something’s wrong, or you’re stuck in your head again, okay?”

Buck nods, he would promise Eddie anything, everything, “Yeah, of course, I promise.”

They come even closer, bodies pressed together, noses touching, “Good.” Eddie tells him, hot air fanning Buck's face.

“Good.” Buck repeats back to him before slotting their mouths together once more. A perfect fit.

(i hope you enjoyed! this is me dipping my toes back into writing so sorry that I’m very rusty. thank you for reading. also posted on my ao3)