#my buddie wip

[presumeddeaddie]

peer pressure challenge with @eddiesfagstache !!!!! night 11 babeyyyy leggo

it's the roadtrip again, pesky roadtrip fic that haunts me

The hand that's not propping up his head slowly raises and lowers onto Eddie's bare back, the warmth emanating from Eddie's sending comfort through him as he starts to gently tap his fingertips against the soft, but firm skin. His dull headache is all but forgotten as he lets last night's conversation play through his mind, and the butterflies he feels in his stomach are almost violent at the realization that Eddie might be his. The hand that had been on Eddie's back is now on Eddie's face, his thumb gently caressing Eddie's slack jaw. The move makes his otherwise relaxed eyebrows twitch, and it's so cute that Buck can't help but smile. "Eddie," he calls quietly. Buck watches his face animate a little more, but it isn't enough to pull him from the depths of unconsciousness. He hesitates for only a moment, but Buck doesn't think he can contain himself much more, so he leans in and presses the tiniest kiss to Eddie's cheekbone, his lips tingling at the sensation. "Ed-die," Buck sing-songs a bit more loudly, and this time, Eddie starts to stir, a snuffling sort of sound pushed out of him. Buck swallows hard as he continues to look over Eddie's beautiful face, and he's soon pressing soft pecks all over the skin he can reach.

[calyssmarviss]

now this one i never posted before

[utopiajk101]

-“sssh, let’s keep it quiet”. 💗

Neck kisses #buddie

[fallen-lucifiel]

[hankandmonty]

The cleric mortality rate in fantasy high is impressive

[timethehobo]

Still really like these lil sitting buddies (and silly Rook). May clean them up to make charms / standees.

Would folks be interested maybe? Hm.

[lonelychicago]

r/relationship_advice

u/hot_pilot84 • 2d ago

MY (40M) BOYFRIEND? (33M) IS IN LOVE WITH HIS BEST FRIEND (36M) AND IM THE THIRD WHEEL

I'm new to this reddit stuff, but a coworker suggested it, and I thought I'd give it a try. I probably should start saying he's not really my boyfriend??? We just started dating a few weeks ago, and it's been... interesting. But I really like him and he is a nice, sweet guy.

He recently came out, so I've been trying to be patient and understanding. But recently it's been hard to spend any time alone because his best friend is always there.

Now, I also like the guy, so I don't really mind, and to be honest, I kinda suspected from the first moment they were in love with each other. They both talk about each other all the time, and when we hang out together, I can't help but feel like intruding on an intimate moment I shouldn't be part of.

Like, our second date was at his sister's wedding and the best friend spent most of the time glued to our side. He has a son who my date adores, so they danced together for most of the party as well. It was cute, but again: it felt like intruding on a private moment.

Then we had a relaxing night at his place, eating take out on his couch and watching a movie.... when the best friend just, came in. No notice, no knocking. He has a key to the place and he just walked in. It was awkward at first but we insisted it wasn't a big deal so he stayed for tge rest of the night.

By the time I was leaving, my date was telling him to just get comfortable on the couch.

Another thing is. My date? Situationship? I don't know how to call it anymore. Well, I recently found out that he is the legal guardian of his best friend 's kid? In case anything happens? I wouldn’t find this weird at all if it wasn't for the fact this man has parents and sisters and other close family members that also have a less chance of dying along with him on the job. (They work together.)

Also. Recently, the best friend broke up with his girlfiend and called this guy in the middle of our date. So, he crashed again.

All of this to say, I'm not really hurt? This was new and sure, I like the guy. But to be honest my expectations were low. This is fairly recent, so it's not like my heart is broken and I just lost the love of my life. No, that's not the problem.

I just don't think these two know they're in love with each other, and it’s starting to get really uncomfortable for me. Should I say something? Should I talk with my date about it or just break things off and keep it vague, but that we should still be friends? Should I talk with both of them at the same time and confront the situation?

This is a situation I don't even know how to begin to get a handle on. Does anyone know where I should start?

rctherpcliarredditor • commented 1d ago

to be honest, i don't really have any advice for you. i just find this gay drama really hilarious. thoughts and prayers for you, my man 🙏🏼🙏🏼

twohottakes • commented 6hrs ago

definitely have a conversation alone with your date. point all of this out to him and tell him you don't wanna get in the middle if there's deeper feelings involved for someone else. all the luck to you, man!

storyreddit23 • commented 2hrs ago

talk to ur date!! and pls, post an update if u do. i wanna know how this ends.

[octo-blobs]

wip infinity nikki lighting study . love this game

[forestofcryptids-art]

[burnthatbridge]

if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know) 

pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place

“Can I get you another beer, man?”

Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”

Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.

Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.

“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious.  “Anything.”

Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all. 

But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed. 

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled. 

Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”

It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress. 

“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”

Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.

“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”

Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”

Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul. 

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”

Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”

Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”

“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it. 

“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.

And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t. 

“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”

“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.

But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”

Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission. 

“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”

While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else. 

“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”

He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.

“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”

Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.

Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to. 

“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him. 

Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”

Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”

It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie. 

“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”

Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.” 

But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it. 

“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”

Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them. 

Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.” 

Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.

“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?

“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”

Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.

Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”

Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?

Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”

[nonolcg21]

heyy sooo....I missed drawing them and thought "Wow, Buddy is just like Sebastian! And La La Land is equally as sad as Cinderella Boy sometimes..." and then this happened.

Im so sorry for my lazy coloring, but I hope yall like it <33

[presumeddeaddie]

peer pressure writing challenge with @eddiesfagstache !!! night 4!! one minute late i'm so sorry

same wavelength of course. new infideleddie fic FEAT MUSTACHEEEE

He did not whimper. As long as Buck is alive and standing, he would deny with his dying breath that he absolutely did not whimper. Hen might beg to differ, but it didn't matter. She's wrong, and besides, Buck would refute it until he turned blue in the face. There are some things he can't refute, at least not to himself. He's in the middle of shining their rig, minding his damn business, and trying to be somewhat productive when he hears a low but piercing whistle coming from nearby - Chimney. "Diaz! New look, huh? It--" "Don't you dare start, Chim. I just walked in," cuts in immediately from a familiar voice, tinted with resigned exasperation. It was his second favorite voice ever (second only to Chris, of course). Admittedly, he'd needed to find something to do to because Eddie had been running slightly late today, and what if that meant that Eddie called out? Would that mean he's sick? Is he having a really tough day without Chris again? It could be any number of things, couldn't it? Because he didn't want to spend time getting sad over the thought of not having Eddie on shift, regardless of whether it was true or not, he decided to keep busy. Buck picks up other murmurs and chatter coming from that direction, Eddie's "new look" obviously stirring up an upheaval. Curiosity gets the best of him, and when he stops what he's doing to check it out, Buck is slammed in the gut with an imaginary sledgehammer so hard that it makes him breathless. He legitimately cannot breathe. "Hold on-- Is that a mustache?" Hen's voice is close - right next to him, actually, yet it sounds far away. Yeah, Buck is pretty fucking sure it's a mustache. Holy shit. He had thought that he had imagined Eddie in every way possible already, but apparently, his mind either neglected to picture this (Eddie, with a mustache) or his imagination simply hadn't compared to the real thing in any tangible recollection way. He thinks that maybe he's weak in the knees, suddenly leaning against the rig for support and trying to play it off casually (though he knows he'll likely have no success in this). His eyes finally tear away from Eddie's mustache to look up, and there's a lurch of heat in his stomach when he catches Eddie's eyes. Well fuck.

[sixtysixproblems]

posting this now even tho its a shitty sketch currently but idk when ill get the energy to finish it soooo...

man am I looking forward to this reunion lmfao. oscar buddy as many questions as we fans have for you, ward will have so much more

"it's called being a monsterfucker, ward, you should try it sometime" ~Oscar, probably. I have a feeling he knows that term. I have a feeling Mr "the earth is fla-bbergasting" has a Tumblr. just a hunch.

Edit: fucked up and forgot to add this. This is fanart for a comic called Marble Sky you can find here on Tumblr by @somerandomdudelmao

[allastoredeer]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ WIP WEDNESDAY ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

There was something…off about Lucifer.

Something that wasn’t adding up.

Alastor watched him from a distance. At first it was to get a better read of him, and how long he intended to stay, but the as the days ticked on, an unsettling feeling of wrongness grew in the pit of Alastor's stomach.

It’s the mixer that set off the first alarm.

Lucifer followed through with his promise to get Charlie a meeting with Heaven—now scheduled a few days from then—and he and Charlie were in the kitchen cooking up a celebratory meal.

Alastor hid in the shadows, watching the two bubbling personalities with growing boredom.

“Oh, wow, it’s been a while since I’ve been in here,” Lucifer said, wandering around the kitchen as Charlie pulled appliances out of cupboards and ingredients out of the pantry.

“Yeah, Vaggie and I rearranged a lot of the hotel. To make it new and refreshing, you know?”

Lucifer nodded, as if he understood exactly what she meant. “Well, you’ll have to show me where everything is, I guess,” he laughed, opening a few cupboards. “Because I have no idea where that blasted mixer is. I could’ve sworn it was in here.”

“I’ll grab it, let me just—oh, hold on,” she pulled her phone from her back pocket as it started ringing. “It’s Vaggie. She’s out running errands. Do you mind if I?” She gestured to the door.

“Oh, go right ahead. I’ll get everything ready in here.”

“Thanks, dad.”

She left and Alastor was prepared to follow her example, as there was hardly anything worth watching in the kitchen, but paused when Lucifer let out a deep, happy sigh and turned, walked to a cupboard across the room, and pulled out the mixer.

Alastor frowned.

But it could’ve just been a lucky guessed, he reasoned as Lucifer plugged the appliance into the wall, humming a jaunty circus tune to himself. But then Lucifer opened a drawer close by, grabbed a wire whisk, then hopped a few shelves over for a mixing bowl. The squirm in Alastor’s gut tightened.

For someone who hadn’t been there in centuries, he sure knew his way around.

Still, that wasn’t too strange. Lucifer was an immortal being. A few centuries was probably little more than a week for him. Who could say how his memory matched?

Except…

Didn’t Charlie say she and Vaggie rearranged everything?

His magic, Alastor decided. Divine powers of an angel, and all of that. Surely that would cover finding basic kitchenware.

But even that explanation felt a bit…off.

Something about it wasn’t right.

It was Lucifer’s confidence. The way he strode from cupboard to cupboard without a lick of hesitation or a hint of doubt. No fumbling, no second guessing, no pulling out the wrong drawer, even on accident.

Still hidden, Alastor inched closer, to get a better look.

That’s when Lucifer turned his head and looked at him.

For a split-second, when those red slitted eyes met his, Alastor thought he’d accidentally stepped out of the shadows, because all of the sudden, Lucifer's smile was gone, his humming dropped, and the cadence around him became tangibly colder. Alastor checked himself but, no, he was still hidden. Still covered in shadows in the corner of the kitchen, where the lights weren’t far enough to give away his hiding spot.

But Lucifer didn’t look away. He wasn’t moving. Wasn’t blinking. It didn’t even look like he was breathing.

There weren’t many things in Hell that unsettled Alastor anymore. He’d encountered demons without eyelids, ones who seemed to disappeared when they stopped moving, plenty who didn’t need to breath or eat for days on end.

Lucifer was hardly the strangest, or scariest, thing he’s seen, and yet…

He slowly cocked his head and took a step around the counter. Alastor’s heart jumped. Lucifer still hadn't broken eye contact. He walked slowly, not like he was scared or nervous, but careful and quiet, like a predator stalking through bushes. Trying not to startle its victim.

Alastor figured he may as well step out of the shadows, seeing how his presence was obviously known. Or he could simply leave. Just meld into the darkness and return to the parlor to see if anything interesting was going on at the bar.

But he couldn’t, for the life of him, move.

His body refused to. His lungs held his breath captive in his chest. His heart thumped harder with growing unease.

Deep in the recesses of his mind, a small, intrinsic voice told him to stay still. To keep eye contact. So certain that if the moved, if he took his eyes off of Lucifer for one second, he wouldn’t be fast enough to see him a second time. Before it was too late.

The closer he got, the louder that voice became, until Alastor didn’t feel like he was controlling the shadows so much as the shadows were holding him in place. He was trapped, completely and utterly, and he could. Not. Look. Away.

Lucifer was only a few feet away when the doors flung open and Charlie bounded inside, hauling a load of groceries with Vaggie close behind. His change was immediate.

The air warmed, his dark demeanor disappeared and a wide, happy smile lit up his face. He whirled around. “Char-Char, welcome back! I think I found just about everything.”

“Oh, wow, you did,” Charlie said, looking over the counter. “It wasn’t too much of a hassle, was it?”

“Ah, not at all, kiddo. I found may way around. Ready to get started?”

“Yes! Here, Vaggie got the rest of the things we needed.”

Lucifer walked to her with a pep in his step, but as he rounded the counter, he looked at Alastor again, face impassive and cold, and suddenly Alastor was being thrust away. He stumbled out of the shadows on the third floor, knocking into a hall table that nearly took him off his feet. He clutched it, barely keeping himself from hitting the floor.

He stared at the wall, stunned.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

I've mentioned that I've wanted to write a dark!Lucifer fic and I got an Anon a while back asking how I would go about writing that.

Well, here's a little piece.

[radiance1]

Based on this post.

"You're odd."

Tim turned to Danny, who was braiding one of the younger horses' mane and tiled his head. "Am I?" He asked, continuing to run a brush through the mane of his father's caretaker's steed. "I don't think I'm odd."

"Well yea, cause you're you." Danny huffed and gestured at his with one hand, pulling it back to comfort the foal in his lap before recontinuing to braid. "It's not bad, not really. But I thought Fright Knight just cared about serving the Ghost King and betraying him occasionally." Danny sniffed. "I didn't think he had an actual life beyond that and then boom! You appeared." Due to having his hands full, he gestured at Tim with his chin.

"And that's... odd?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Tim looked up at the sky, the clear night sky full of twinkling stars that he would have never seen in Gotham. By now he would be sneaking out of his manor to try and catch more pictures of the ever-elusive Batman and Robin. He was so close to figuring out who they were.

He just knew it.

Unconsciously, his hands slowed down until they stopped entirely. Eyes squinting as he pulled up what pictures he had in his memory and trying to connect the dots.

An arm wrapping around his shoulder snapped him from his thoughts. "Don't take it too hard. I'm odd, you're odd, we're both odd." Tim thinks there was a misunderstanding here. "Me and you? We're odd buddies!"

Tim blinked.

He blinked again.

Something warm was in his chest.

"Odd buddies?" He asked and Danny presented his pinkie finger with a smile. "Odd buddies!"

That was the first pinkie promise Tim ever made.

//////////////////////

The infinite Realms has recognized the bond established between the Ward of Time and War and the Ward of Fear.

//////////////////////

"You're odd." Red Robin stated, arms crossed over his chest and both voice and expression flat.

The Ghost Prince, most recent potential addition to the Justice League, merely shrugged. "You're odd too." He said, sending a finger gun in the vigilante's direction.

Warmth bloomed in his chest when he saw the look of recognition and mirth in the Ghost Prince's eyes.

He didn't forget him.

Red Robin held up hand, pinkie finger extended and a smirk on his lips as he tilted his head slightly. "Odd buddies?"

The Ghost Prince mirrored his smirk, and curled his pinkie around Red Robin's.

"Odd buddies."

[nouverx]

[WIP]💃 Angry Rosie and shocked Alastor woooo