#not my thing but y'all are having fun

[melodyofthevoid]

It's been interesting watching the COTL spread across my dash from mutual to mutual.

[hell-is-a-teenage-girll]

I'm gonna add since people misread.

No the point is not empathy in this post.

There is nothing wrong with different types of empathy levels, all are valid 🩷

What is the point tho, is that people decide what autism is, that we are all the same, what empathy is and automatically assume we either don't have it or must be a bad person if our empathy level is not the same or what they think it should be.

So please, don't speak badly of people with low empathy or whatever level. Cause I say it again.

I don't allow it, I don't condone it, and you are just as valid 🖤

[martyryo]

Mitosis my beloved ❤️

(doodles below and concepts under cut)

They are like an emulsion of two substances that do not mix together, but they can melt in one another while still not having dna stirring together. I think I'm picturing something like liquid mercury that can be divided into smaller portions and reunited.

They can immerse themselves in and emerge out of the other's body. When they're conjoined they can also disproportionate themselves. Tyler is the one more comfortable with disproportion, and he's also the one that resides into narrator almost everytime. Narrator, on the other hand, still doesn't feel like letting Tyler be the one moving both of them.

I thought about Tyler developing as an extension to narrator later in his life (not an alter anymore, he considers him a parasite at first).

Oh also they can completely separate, but that requires consent from both of them, so does the reconnection in which they also decide who is the one that stays out and who is the one melted inside.

[crispycreambacon]

Not gonna lie y'all I didn't plan to do a full redraw. I just wanted to sketch this scene because I stumbled upon this while googling Gobo and Uncle Matt, and Wembley looked funny in this screencap. Then ruh oh I accidentally put in effort and. yueah.

This was fun to do! I used a different brush for the lineart, and I really like the simple clean look that it gives. I hope the expressions match the context since I didn't check the original scene, and I. I'm not going back to this episode y'all. The Fraggle Rock writers really heard me go "I wish Uncle Matt and Gobo would reunite..." and relayed that wish on a Monkey's Paw.

[imthursdaysyme]

While I love Steve having a kid that's a nerd, my favorite is if his kid is just like him. He's popular even at 7, he's extroverted, funny, and charming albeit a little strange. He loves sports and struggles in math and doesn't really get english and gets scolded when he laughs in history—sue him he thought it was funny—and has a tendency to get detention but also is somehow a teachers pet all at once.

He has a tendency for feminine things, makes it his own with earrings and the occasional pink flower print shirt.

He begs steve to not work on the car until he gets home from school, cause even at 5, he would rather climb over the fence and run home by himself then learn his dad worked on the cool car without him.

He loves driving and cooking and dancing and loves swimming—aunt Robbie calls him a variety of aquatic animals instead of his name; minnow, fish, stingray, tigershark. Anything went.

They look alike and act alike to the point robin laughs and claims Steve just cloned himself, Eddie says that the kid is actually just Steve brought to the future through time travel. Steve laughs, he loves it ofc but he's never pushed or forced it, it just happened that way.

But there's also times, where Steve sees his son, so like him with big tears in his eyes trying to be tough. Or when all he wants is to sleep in the bed with Steve when he has a nightmare, wants his dad to kiss everything better, when he so easily seeks affection or struggles with school to the point he's getting stress migraines at 9, sees him try so hard to do his best and do what he does well. Sees him fail.

And when Steve sees this, he wonders if maybe he wasn't a bad kid. Didn't need to be tougher, manlier, smarter—better—to deserve love.

Just. Like. Steve seeing that he didn't need to be anything other than what he was. That he has no idea how his parents didn't love him bc how could he ever not love his kid? Just like its okay for him to be how he is and have a kid that a like him as well bc he's pretty great

And like. Its just that idea that Steve could only “heal his inner child” with a kid that's different then him or a girl is kind of sad that it's only that what if him and his son go to every game and constantly have grease on them what then.

[gallusgalluss]

sorry for not really being active here lately, i've been focusing on college stuff and also decided to suddenly start working on a lil game lol

^ about them btw. their name is MC. they're good at doing stuff.

[robynrocksforbrains]

Mike Wheeler is important and there's nothing wrong with analyzing him

Since y'all wanna be insufferable bitches about it I'm gonna explain to you why he's important, why Will loves him, why his struggles should be acknowledged, and why his character depth is pivotal to byler endgame being a satisfying conclusion for both Mike AND Will. Deal with it!

We are not seeing smoke where there isn't a flame. We are seeing smoke where there is a literal fucking forest fire.

Starting off with something a lot of people aren't ready for but I've seen more people talking about: Mike is the main character of s1 at the very least. He is the character that brings us into the world of stranger things. He is the character that the writers chose for this. Mike is the main character of s1 and it was an instant hit. The writers love Mike. Contrary to popular belief, giving a character an arc where they are struggling and their behavior changes from what is normal for the character we know and love does NOT mean the writers hate that character. It means they deliberately chose to give that character complexity and depth. Your inability to like characters that do anything wrong ever is not the fault of the writers. Your decision to act as if a character is not important is not reflective of the actual narrative because it in fact is in direct opposition to the narrative. So just to be clear, if you genuinely believe that Mike isn't important, or that the writers hate him, or don't care about him, or that his story "takes away" from any other character's - ESPECIALLY WILL'S - you are simply wrong.

In s1 and s2 Mike is established as an extremely caring person. He's loving, loyal, brave, intelligent, and trying his best. He is also established to be hot headed, someone who speaks without thinking quite often, someone who is capable of hurting his friends despite that being the last thing he wants to do. He is all of these things and more. He is a human. He is a kid. So in s3, when suddenly he is entirely different, it is completely logical to assume that there is a reason for that. He did not just wake up one day and decide he wanted to be an asshole, push Will away, make his friends feel abandoned, and echo the same sentiments their bullies held. Something is happening with him. He has so much going on in his head and it is painfully obvious. He's holding something in, he's hiding from everyone and from himself. We see glimpses of what he's trying to hide after Will calls him out on his behavior. Will gets through to him. Mike is usually unresponsive to tough love, except for when it's coming from Will. After their fight, it is obvious that he's trying to be better. But he still doesn't wanna face certain things, and he doesn't know how to navigate that. Because he's 13 years old.

There is a reason for all of that internal conflict. There is a reason it comes pouring out of him at certain times. He's crumbling. He is quite literally falling apart because he's holding on to too much. It's not a stretch to assume that, it just takes basic media literacy. Why would the writers have Mike act this way if he was just supposed to be a one dimensional character? Why would Finn be directed to portray Mike the way he does if there was nothing more going on? There are times where Mike looks like he's in physical pain because of his internal conflict. There is a reason for that. And acknowledging that DOES NOT mean people are taking away from Will. That's the most idiotic thing I have ever heard. Do y'all seriously not understand that more than one character can have emotionally complex storylines? Genuinely asking, is this a new concept for you?

Will's love for Mike

Will is head over heels in love with Mike. That is very much established. So when you're dismissing the emotional depth of Mike's individual arc because you think acknowledging it "takes away from Will" you are actually diminishing the significance of a huge aspect of Will's emotional arc. By taking away the significance of Mike, you take away from the significance of Will.

Let's do a quick recap of the very significant role Mike has played in Will's entire life:

Mike is Will's first friend.

They have grown up together and it can be assumed that they've reached important milestones together.

Mike has always been a safe person for Will. He's been a constant in Will's very chaotic and unfair life. Until the summer of '85, Mike had always been something good in Will's life. (That's not to say he is no longer something good, but it can be assumed that the summer of '85 is the first time Mike has been a causal factor in Will's unhappiness)

When Will went missing, Mike did not hesitate to search for him. It wasn't even a question of if. The moment he knew Will was missing he knew exactly what he'd be doing that night. He spearheaded the search amongst the party. He was the leader.

When Will came back, Mike was the only person that didn't treat him like he was gonna break. He cared for him, and he was there for him, but he didn't treat him differently; Will tells us as much. Which means we can infer that the way Mike was with Will in s2 - how gentle and loving he was - was nothing new. He had just always been like that.

When Will was possessed, Mike stayed by his side. Even when it was scary, even when it could've gotten him killed, he stayed. Because once again, for him, it wasn't even a question. That's just where he knew he needed to be. He was in the shed when they were trying to get through to Will. He was set apart from Lucas and Dustin, but he also wasn't equated to family. And his retelling of the story of the day they first met was the final push Will needed to find a way to communicate.

After a year of things being "weird" between them, Mike tells Will that he didn't deserve to be treated the way he had been. Mike tells him that he wants them to be okay again, and for the rest of the season he puts in the work.

Things get rough in s3, and at the beginning of s4, and despite all of that, Will confesses his love (albeit veiled). In a moment where Mike is feeling awful about himself, he tells him that he loves him and needs him, and he tells him why. And to him it doesn't matter that he's breaking his own heart to do it, because it's Mike. Mike, who makes him feel like he's not a mistake at all, and that he's better for being different. For Will, there was no other option. The person he loves was hurting and he knew how to help, and so he did.

Mike is the first person Will tells about Vecna still being alive. Because they're back to being a team. He knows he can trust Mike, and Mike seems to be very determined to prove him right.

SO.

These are all real and canon aspects of Mike's presence in Will's life. Will falling in love with Mike isn't something that just happened for no reason. Will fell in love with Mike because of who Mike is. When you acknowledge that, and when you acknowledge the reasons they've set out for why Will loves him - the reasons Will literally told us - you can better understand Will. But when you dismiss all of these things about Mike, you are dismissing a large portion of Will's emotional and romantic arc. You aren't being a Will Warrior. You are erasing so much of him and his feelings and his lived experience. That is not the hill you wanna die on.

Will loves a person. Not a feeling. Yes, he says that Mike makes him feel like he's not a mistake and that he's better for being different. But that's not why he loves him. He feels that way because he loves him.

Mike is a fully fleshed out character with his own feelings and struggles and fears and traumas and motivations. He's not a plot device. He's not just an accessory to Will's arc. He's not a character that was written only to be Will's love interest. He's Will's love interest because he's Mike.

If Mike didn't matter, and if Mike didn't play a significant role in byler, then they would be able to write in a love interest for Will in s5 and have it be somewhat satisfying. But they can't do that. Will's love for Mike has so much depth because Mike has so much depth. It is genuinely crazy that this has to be stated and that I have to back up this claim because it is simply a canon fact.

So yes, the rain fight affects Mike's character development and his involvement in it is important. Yes, the van scene literally could not exist without Mike and therefore his involvement in it is incredibly important. Yes, every single byler moment has an impact on Mike, and Mike has an impact on it because they are BYLER moments. Yes, Mike will have a lot of significant moments - with Will AND on his own - in s5 because his arc deserves and needs as much attention as Will's in order to execute byler endgame in a satisfying way.

No, none of these facts negate Will's importance or take away from his story. If anything, they add to it because Mike and Will's arcs are corresponding and intertwined.

Mike's struggles

To name a few

Dysfunctional family

Has been bullied his entire life

Extreme self worth issues

Inferiority complex

Hero complex

Lack of self preservation

Suicidal ideation (has been on display since SEASON ONE)

Internalized homophobia

To get this out of the way: Mike's internalized homophobia is allowed to be discussed. Discussion of it is not the dismissal of Will's internalized homophobia. Surprise surprise, two queer kids in the 80s have internalized homophobia! Who'd'a thunk it?! Their internalized homophobia presents in different ways but it is there for both of them. I personally relate to the way Mike's is portrayed way more than I relate to Will's. So why is it that we can't discuss it without being accused of erasing Will's experience? Or without people saying that we're "copy and pasting" Will's story? Because quite frankly, that feels dismissive of my - and likely many others' - real and lived experience. So please for the love of all things that are good just stop with this talking point because it will never hold up.

Moving on

I'm not gonna do a full breakdown of all of Mike's issues. Because contrary to popular belief, there are a lot. And that would be exhausting and I'd get carried away and it's not the point of this post. The point of this post is to defend the acknowledgement and mere existence of them.

If you're a byler that for some reason thinks Mike only exists to be Will's love interest and his trophy as compensation for his trauma, let me ask you this: Have you considered how awful it would be to have a queer character's individuality and emotional depth completely ignored for the sake of focusing on the queer character that "really matters"?

If Mike's own issues, with his queer identity and otherwise, aren't thoroughly explored... What's the point of all this? If Mike really is insignificant in this storyline and his individuality has no effect on it.. where's the emotional payoff? If his perspective doesn't matter... Why have the writers gone to such great lengths to ensure we don't have that piece of the puzzle yet?

Analyzing Mike and understanding Mike is very important to understanding byler. Once again, I think it's crazy that this needs to be said.

I also think it's important to note that characters can have similar struggles. There's no rule against that. Just like real life. Characters having similar struggles is not a bad thing, and acknowledging that their struggles are similar is not dismissive of either character. We're talking about STRANGER THINGS. Jonathan and Nancy's thing is "we've got shared trauma". They have literal matching scars. Shared experiences are some of the main building blocks for this show's romances. Byler has a TON of shared experience, basically their entire lives. We already know that. So wouldn't it be so beautiful for them to learn that they've been struggling with the same thing this whole time? That the entire time they felt alone in what they were going through when really they had each other and they never even knew it? Wouldn't it be so beautiful for Mike's acceptance of Will and Will's love for him was also a step toward accepting himself? Wouldn't it be beautiful for Will to learn that his love makes Mike feel like he's not a mistake? None of that would be in the realm of possibility if Mike didn't have emotional depth and if his individuality wasn't important.

And that leads me to my concluding point...

A satisfying execution of byler endgame hinges on Mike's individual emotional arc being handled well

God I hope this isn't controversial to say. I sincerely hope most people haven't forgotten that.

Here's a hypothetical:

Imagine season five has been released. You're watching it, and you notice that Mike has been relegated to just a supporting character for Will. We don't get any of his perspective. We don't get any explanation for his s3 and early s4 behavior. His breakup with El doesn't have any real tangible effect on him, it's really just used for El's character development. We never see him pining for Will like we saw Will pining for him. And then suddenly Mike is learning about the painting and then suddenly he's confessing his love and then suddenly byler is canon and official.

Now wouldn't that just be awful? Wouldn't that be unfair to the audience, to Mike, and to Will? For us to never learn just how much Mike had to go through to even be able to say it out loud? For Mike to never get the chance to prove to himself through word and action that he is the heart? For Will to never get an explanation for why things did get so "weird" between them? It would leave us with one big, nagging question: What was the point of everything Mike has said and done throughout the entire show if his conclusion is that lackluster?

Disregarding Mike for a moment (I know that's incredibly ironic given what the entire point of this is but just bear with me) - how would that be a satisfying conclusion for Will? I mean, Will's s4 arc was basically dedicated to showcasing his struggle with his sexuality and with his love for Mike. We were shown just how deep that love is. We were shown how patient, unselfish, unwavering, and beautiful that love is. So how would it be satisfying for Mike's love for him to not be shown with just as much depth? How would it be satisfying for Mike to just be a one dimensional character whose s5 arc is essentially "break up with girlfriend, wait to find out best friend is in love with him, say he loves him back, then they live happily ever after"? I think Will deserves for his love to be returned with the same intensity at which he gives it. And I think it should be clear to the audience and to Will himself.

Back to Mike!

Mike has been through so much shit. I don't think anyone that is denying that actually believes he hasn't been through shit. Because you'd actually have to watch the show on mute and with your eyes closed to think this kid hasn't had just the worst time. It's so ignorant to act as if this stuff hasn't affected him. There's stuff we've seen but there's stuff we also haven't seen. There are issues he has that date back to his childhood pre-canon. Just like Will, Mike has been a queer kid growing up in 80s smalltown conservative america. Acknowledging the pain he 100% carries because of that is so important. His perspective has been withheld from us, not because it's unimportant, but because it's the final puzzle piece. If we had Mike's perspective in s4, byler wouldn't be a "will they won't they" (even though we all know they will). If we got his perspective in s4, byler would be a "100% certain without a doubt they will". But the thing about his perspective is that it's so much more than just loving Will. It's fear. It's pain. It's insecurity. It's doubt. It's the belief that his happiness just doesn't matter all that much. All of that has to be explored. All of that has to be laid out in the open for us in order for byler endgame to feel earned. Mike's emotional payoff will lead to byler's emotional payoff.

Mike has known he loves Will. In s5 we will see him make a deliberate and active effort to overcome the things keeping him from doing something about it. And then he will do something about it.

And so when it finally happens. When both Mike and Will finally know that their feelings are requited, and when their arcs end with us knowing that they will face whatever life has in store for them together, that will feel earned. That will feel like the logical conclusion for both of them. Not just for Mike. Not just for Will. For both.

And Mike is just as important to that conclusion as Will is.

And one last thing...

Some people are going to talk about Mike more. Some people are going to talk about Will more. Because newsflash, people have preferences. Some people just relate to Mike more, or they find his emotional arc extremely compelling, or they just like him. It isn't an attack on Will or any other character. No one is saying Mike is more important than any other character (I'm sure there are people that say that but they are a vocal minority and they are simply wrong). We are just saying that he is important. If you wanna engage in media analysis, please understand that "main character" or "central character" does not mean "only important character" and "only character that should be analyzed". If you wanna talk about Will and only Will, that's fine. But you don't get to act like people that talk about other characters are doing a disservice to your fave, because that's not how any of this works.

[molinaesque]

Okay bit of a rant... But I feel like people who "ghoulkeep" (yes there are some people who legit do this lmao) are so ridiculous because they either a) just spitefully don't watch the show b) just don't pay attention c) are the most boring, no fun having mfs or d) all of the above

On the topic of Cooper "not looking like a ghoul enough", have you considered that he didn't become a ghoul/decay at the same rate or manner as the ghouls you're used to.

Besides being mutilated by someone else, he also might've been introduced to ghoulification at a more "controlled" way (kinda like John Hancock) thus making him less "juicy". I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case because (on top of just details in general), they've done a cool thing where they showcased all kinds of imagery of ghouls in the show, enforcing the idea that not every ghoul reacted to the radiation the exact same way.

Anyway, my point is it's one thing to be like "haha Cooper is the less extreme case of ghouls to be thirsting over", but to straight be like "NO you guys are FAKE ghoul lovers" 🙄 Like what are we doing, y'all.

Edit: also yes I do know they went into huge consideration into making him more attractive (the creative team and Walton have confirmed this), but it doesn't negate my points (also they wanted it to be easier for Walton to just act/exist with all that stuff on him for hours on end). Even if they're not the case, WHO CARES. More ghoul havers, the better! ALSO ALSO we have the other ghoul characters who exist for a reason! Having one does not immediately erase the other. WE CAN HAVE IT ALL!! FOOD FOR EVERYONE!!!

[dashing-through-ecto]

The difference one and a half years can make

My first comic

My latest comic

It's been absolutely staggering to see the differences even though these panels have the same vibes.

[muirmarie]

Me: I joke about writing the same McCoy centric story over and over again in different ways

Me: and like. I love doing it and imma keep doing it because it makes me happy.

Me: but also. I do sometimes wonder if it's like. A little Much.

Me: like maybe I should branch out or something

Me: [reads another fundamental and extremely insulting misread of McCoy's character by someone who is clearly making a Choice to cast McCoy as the villain, because they have to get him out of the way of spirk, because they're too???? idk immature??? to realize that even when you're in a relationship with one person, other ppl can and SHOULD still be important to you]

Me: lmao I hope I AM too much actually!!!! I hope it is 100% obnoxious how much I love that doctor!!!!! Time to write more versions of the same story of McCoy being forced to realize that he is loved and cared for!!!!!!

Me: I KNOW MY NICHE AND IMMA DIE IN THAT NICHE, THANKS

[henwilsonmd]

post 6x18: some out-of-order vignettes | ao3

4251 words

“Buck,” said Eddie, trying to school his face into something less fond and amused. “That’s my couch.”

Buck turned from where he’d been happily showing off the new piece of furniture he’d gotten with Natalia the day prior. “What?”

“The couch,” Eddie repeated, with a quirk of his eyebrow. “You bought my exact couch.”

“No,” Buck replied with a shake of his head. “No, it’s definitely different.”

read on ao3

Eddie looked at it—a three-seater in dark blue, velvet-y fabric with square corners and deep seats to accommodate his long legs. They’d picked out some nice white decorative pillows for it, and it’s certainly brand-new looking, but—

“It’s totally the same.” Eddie gave up on hiding his smile.

Buck looked back to the couch, tilting his head to scrutinize it. After a moment, he sighed, planting his hands on his hips. “Ah, fuck. It’s totally the same.”

Eddie groaned, letting his head thump back onto the edge of the cot behind him. “The pain meds are definitely kicking in.”

“Well, good,” snarked Buck from a chair next to him, attention half-focused on his phone in his hands. “That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

Eddie sighed, long-suffering. “You too?”

“Yes, Eddie, me too.” Buck replied, thumbs flying as he tapped out something on the screen in his hands. Probably to Maddie. Probably about Chim. Who was probably okay. “Your ribs are fucking broken.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, staring at the ceiling. “And I know what they feel like. I’m fine, there was—other stuff going on.” He thought about that paramedic from the 133 shining a penlight into Hen’s eyes, frowning like he didn’t like the results and going back in to do it again. He thought about the constant jitter of Buck’s leg next to him, the constant worry for Bobby and Chimney who’d taken the other two ambulances before the three of them had managed to squeeze into another cab. “Besides,” Eddie pulled himself back on track. “Did you even get checked out?” He leveled Buck with a look that he hoped had more energy behind it than he had left.

Buck shrugged, powering off his phone with a click. “I’m fine.”

“There’s blood all over your face,” Eddie pointed out.

“Hen cleaned most of it up already.”

“There was more?”

“That’s—Eddie, I’m fine,” Buck said, turning towards him. “I scraped up my cheek and bit my tongue when I fell, and, sure, I’ll be a little bruised, but I’m fine.”

“You lost consciousness,” Eddie pointed out, and he swallowed around a dry throat.

“How… how did you know that?” Buck stuttered in reply.

Eddie gave his own shrug, picking at the edge of the right kneepad on his turnout pants. “I didn’t pass out. I radioed right after I’d gotten my bearings, but no one answered. Then, like, thirty seconds later you must have woken up.”

Buck, for a moment, held Eddie’s gaze with something so unbelievably devastated, and guilty—like the thought of not being able to answer Eddie’s call was the worst possible thing that had happened that day. Then he flicked his eyes down to the floor. “Okay, s-so, like, thirty seconds. I’m fine, Eddie. Really.”

Eddie frowned, thinking about those thirty seconds—an unbearable weight on his back, a growing pain in his chest, and the clawing panic as he listened to the silence stretching out on the other side of the radio and fought the mounting urge to plead, I’m still alive, please, I’m still alive down here.

And then how he’d breathed a hugely painful sigh of relief when Buck finally asked for a headcount, how he’d fumbled into his pocket for his St. Christopher medal and prayed—something he hadn’t done since that awful week of the coma. Prayed that he’d come home safe to his son, but also that Buck would be careful—that he wouldn’t do something stupid and destructive and reckless to save any of them.

That heady rush of gratitude when Buck had sawed the doors open, taking off his safety goggles and assessing Eddie’s situation with a calculating, heavy gaze.

Next to him, Buck cleared his throat, shifting in the chair. “Anyway, you broke three ribs, man. Let the meds do their job.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, leaning back into the pillows behind him. “Trust me, they are.”

Eddie sipped his Diet Coke, beer off-limits because he was still taking the Tylenol threes. “So, you finally got a new couch.”

“I had a couch before,” Buck pointed out, a matching soda in his hand for solidarity. “Kameron just—y’know, gave birth all over it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, snorting a soft laugh. “That must have been wild.”

Buck chuckled. “The baby didn’t want to wait, I guess.”

“Impatient little guy,” Eddie said. “Must be those Buckley genes.”

“Hey,” Buck protested, pointing a finger. “I can be plenty patient.”

“Sure,” Eddie agreed placatingly, but be noticed how there seemed to be something more behind the mirth in Buck’s eyes—the plastic pieces at the edges of his smile. He fought the urge to say I told you so—mostly because it would have been childish, but also because Buck hadn’t asked for his opinion at any step of the way, and Eddie hadn’t offered.

Eddie decided to wait him out—usually the best course of action when it came to Buck. Eddie understood intimately how much time it could take to parse through a mess of feelings in your brain and formulate them into words that would make sense to another person. Usually, Eddie would sit quietly and sip his beer while watching Buck’s feelings play out on his unguarded face, and after a minute or two Buck would haltingly begin to explain what had been going on with him.

Eddie had tried to explain that to Maddie when they’d both been nearly sick with worry over Buck’s post-coma mental state. “He’ll come to you when he’s ready,” Eddie had said over the phone. “You can’t force him to talk about it.”

“Eddie, you don’t know him like I do,” Maddie had protested. “He shouldn’t be alone right now.”

And Eddie had opened his mouth to say no, actually, I know him better than you, I know him better than anyone, but—that’s not true, is it? Why would Eddie know Buck better than his own sister, who’s spent the entire thirty years of his life caring for him, when Eddie’s only had him for—what, five years? Then subtract all the things they didn’t talk to each other about and all the issues they’ve had, and—yeah, who is Eddie to say what’s best for Buck?

And then Buck had knocked on his door and passed out on his couch and Eddie had felt righteously vindicated in a way that he almost wanted to rub in Maddie’s face, which was kind of bitchy of him to think.

So, Buck sipped his soda next to Eddie on his new couch, a storm of emotions clear on his face, and Eddie waited him out because that’s what he does.

Buck let out a sigh, and Eddie thought, here it is, he’ll let me in, and then— “Want to watch the Dodgers game?”

Eddie blinked. “Um, sure.”

And Buck turned on the TV.

Doubt roiled in Eddie’s gut.

“What about Hen?” Eddie asked, Buck’s hand tight on his arm as he helped him into the passenger seat of the Jeep.

“Karen already took her home, she’s fine,” Buck replied easily, before he shut the door and rounded the front of the car.

He’d left when Eddie had been taken back for x-rays, taking an Uber back to the station to pick up his car so he could come back to get Eddie and drive them both home. Eddie absently wondered when he would get a chance to get his truck from the station parking lot.

Buck hopped into the driver’s seat, fitting his keys in the ignition but pausing before turning the engine. He fixed Eddie with a gentle, reassuring look. “Seriously, man, everyone’s fine. Athena’s with Bobby, Maddie’s with Chim, let’s go home.”

Eddie swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about just how close literally every single one of them except Ravi had come to something far more serious than some hospital bills and time off work.

His gaze slid to Buck, who flashed him that small, soft, close-mouthed smile that Eddie rarely saw—the one that made his chest feel warm and gooey.

“Okay. Let’s go home.”

The Dodgers were losing, and Buck wasn’t talking about it. Eddie tried not to either of those things get to him.

During a commercial break, Buck got up to throw their empty pizza boxes away, waving Eddie off as he moved to help.

When he came back into the living room, he paused under the overhang of the loft, just staring at Eddie.

“What?” he asked, a bit self-conscious.

Buck huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bought your couch.”

Eddie snorted. “Don’t worry about it, man. It’s flattering. You think I have good taste.”

Buck raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if that’s it. Half the furniture in your house is from Target.”

Eddie sputtered. “I—what’s wrong with Target furniture?”

Buck, lowering himself back onto the cushions next to Eddie, raised his hands in a show of innocence. “Nothing, man. I just—I don’t know if I would call it good taste.”

Having no comeback, Eddie just whacked him in the shoulder.

Buck laughed, playfully pushing his hand away. “Hey, c’mon, don’t start shit when I can’t retaliate.”

Eddie smirked. “Why? ‘Cause you know you can’t take me?”

“No,” Buck denied. “’Cause your ribs are still fucking broken.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Buck.”

“Well.” Buck crossed his arms, turning back to the TV as the next inning started. “Forgive me for wanting to be careful.”

For a moment, Eddie considered saying hey, maybe we should talk about how I could’ve almost died again? But Buck clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about the big things, and Eddie didn’t really want to think about that yet either, so he settled for bumping their shoulders together.

Buck leaned right back into him, and neither of them moved apart—the comforting warmth of the contact buzzing in Eddie’s brain like the alcohol he wasn’t drinking.

Eddie smiled down at his hands. “You like my couch,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck groused, slouching into the cushions as they watched a batter swing and miss yet again. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Are you sure you’re both alright?” Carla asked, a worried hand hovering over his elbow. “I caught some of the collapse on the news.”

Eddie flashed her a smile before turning to pour two glasses of water—one for him and one for Buck, who was off in Christopher’s room. “We’re okay,” he said. “A little banged up, but the doctors said I should be back to work in six weeks or less.”

Carla narrowed her eyes. “You better take that full six weeks.”

Eddie set the Brita down and met her gaze. “I’m fine, Carla. Really.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “I just—I worry about you, Eddie. Okay? I know you’d rather I didn’t, but I can’t help it.”

Eddie ducked his head and smiled, a bit, filled with that familiar half-disbelief that people really do care about him. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but—I was lucky today. That nothing worse happened, that—that Buck was there to pull me out.”

Carla scoffed. “Of course he was. I don’t think luck had anything to do with that one.”

Eddie tried to fight the blush off his cheeks—he didn’t know what to do with that. Carla’s surety that Buck would save him come hell or high water. His own surety that Buck would be ripping open the doors of that camper van any second now.

When she realized he wasn’t going to say anything, Carla cleared her throat. “I should go. You up for a hug?”

“From you?” Eddie responded easily. “Always.”

Carla pulled him into a gentle-but-still-desperate embrace. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair.” With a frown, she brought a hand up to ruffle the wilting mess on Eddie’s head. “Your dusty-ass hair. Take a shower, alright?”

Eddie laughed. “Alright, alright.”

“It’s a little early for a welcome back party, don’t you think?” Eddie said as Athena hugged him in greeting, Christopher heading off in search of the other kids.

“You and Bobby are headed back tomorrow,” Athena pointed out.

“Yeah, and Chimney’s not back for another two weeks.”

“And you best believe I’ll throw another party for him.”

Eddie laughed, before venturing further into the house to greet everyone else. His ribs had healed perfectly, barely a twinge when he’d thrown himself onto the couch in triumph yesterday. Which—speaking of, Eddie’s phone was burning a hole in his pocket and he was doing a very good job of ignoring that.

Or, he was, until a lull in conversation found him standing alone in the kitchen and pulling it out of his jeans. No texts. Which—of course, they’d agreed to go for coffee after his shift on Friday, why would she text him before that—but, still. Eddie was nervous. Sue him.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment while he debates if it’s too much of a desperate move to text Marisol before they even go on a date. Christopher would know.

“Who are you texting?” asked a voice, and Eddie fumbled to turn off his phone and shove it in his pocket before someone could see… what?

He looked up to see Buck smiling at his antics, a beer in hand.

“Oh, it’s you,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the counter.

Buck sidled over to join him, staring out the windows at the backyard where the party was in full swing. “Just me. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie replied, for some reason hoping desperately that Buck wouldn’t ask him about—

“So,” Buck nudged an elbow into his arm. “Who were you texting?”

—fuck. Eddie wasn’t sure why this felt like something he didn’t want to tell Buck, to whom he tells everything, but… they don’t really talk about their girlfriends? It was always, always awkward, and it always left him with a sour taste in his mouth.

But, Eddie’s excited about this. Marisol probably won’t be the one, or whatever, but—still. Eddie was excited that his brain was finally in a place where he could think about opening up his life to someone and it wouldn’t send him into a panic attack that landed him in the ER.

And Buck asked.

And Eddie’s not in the habit of saying no to him.

“Um,” he started. “Do you remember Marisol? From the—”

“—yeah, yeah!” Buck cut him off. “So, you were texting her?” He raised his eyebrows, a knowing glint in his gaze.

Eddie blushed. “Yeah, uh… we’re going on a date?” he said quietly, a pit of dread or something similar opening in his gut.

Buck was quiet for a moment, and Eddie risked a glance at his face. He just caught the edge of something shocked and maybe fearful in his expression before it cleared and was replaced by one of those huge, sunny smiles.

“Eddie!” Buck exclaimed. “That’s great! Oh my god, man, this is awesome,” he enthused, slinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and squeezing him close.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, still unsure why part of him felt sick with guilt.

“Hey, ever notice how we always start dating at the same time?”

“No, do we?” Eddie lied, thinking about how he’d agonized over making the call and kept telling himself Buck’s with Natalia now, you should do this.

Buck laughed again, before he jolted with surprise and turned to Eddie, excitedly slapping him on the arm. “Dude! We can go on double dates now!”

Eddie frowned. “We didn’t last time.”

Buck shrugged. “Well, you didn’t like Taylor, so I figured—”

“I liked Taylor,” Eddie protested.

Buck snorted. “Uh, no, you didn’t.”

Eddie tilted his head in a you-got-me face. “I kind of didn’t. I thought you didn’t notice.”

Buck dropped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders again, making Eddie huff out a breath. “Oh, Edmundo, I always notice.”

No you don’t, Eddie thought, and then he ignored that.

“But,” Buck continued, a hesitation in his voice. “You—you like Natalia, right?”

Eddie didn’t really know her at all, except for how excited she’d been about Buck’s death-that-didn’t-stick and how angry that had made him. “Yeah,” Eddie lied again. “She’s good for you. And she has good taste in couches.”

Buck laughed, relieved. “Good. So—we’ll do a double date, yeah? Me, you, Natalia, Marisol.”

Fuck, no. Eddie thought. That sounds awful.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie said instead. “That sounds great.”

Eddie was in the kitchen, pre-heating the oven to heat up some frozen chicken tenders because he didn’t have the energy to cook anything else when he felt little arms wrap gently around his midsection. It hurt his ribs, but Eddie didn’t have the heart to dislodge his son—not when these hugs were becoming rarer and rarer each day.

“Hey, kid,” Eddie said, turning in the hold and dropping a hand onto Christopher’s head. “What’s up?”

Eddie had already seen him, when he popped his head into Christopher’s room to find him sitting with Buck, a careful hand brushing the wounds on the man’s cheek. The sight had made something massive and unknowable bloom inside Eddie’s broken chest, threatening to choke him. He’d tamped it down and hugged Chris hello before heading off to shower, but apparently that hadn’t been enough.

Chris looked up, propping his chin on Eddie’s sternum. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, a tightness in his voice betraying him.

Eddie smiled. “Me too.” Even though it sparked the ache in his side into a bona-fide pain, Eddie leaned over to drop a kiss onto Christopher’s head—something he barely tolerates anymore. “Hey, the doctors said I’d be good as new in six weeks. Think you can deal with having me around all the time for that long?”

Chris laughed, bright and happy, and Eddie’s heart sang. “I’ll try,” he joked, and then something clouded passed over his face. “Buck’s okay, too, right? His face is bloody.”

“Oh, buddy,” Eddie sighed. Usually, he would kneel down to meet Christopher’s gaze, but he settled for easing himself into a chair and ignoring the concerned look Chris was giving him. “Buck’s totally fine, he just got scraped up a little bit. And today was pretty—pretty scary. For both of us.” He swallowed down the urge to berate himself for telling his kid he was scared, and it seemed to be the right move, because Chris nodded along with wide, careful eyes.

Eddie sighed again, settling his hands on his son’s shoulders. “But—tell you what. Buck’s gonna stay with us tonight, and he’s pretty bad at taking care of himself, right?” Chris giggled at that, and Eddie smiled in response. “So you and I are gonna have to be sneaky about taking care of him tonight, okay?”

Eddie expected Chris to give another sweet smile, and maybe to offer some comfort so earnest and childlike in its innocence that it made everything in the world feel right again, so he wasn’t quite sure to do when Chris burst out into loud, raucous laughter.

“Okay, what’s so funny?” he said, playing at being annoyed.

“It’s just,” Chris managed through his massive smile. “That’s exactly what Buck said. About you!”

Eddie just blinked in response, and Chris fell into peals of laughter again. “Okay,” Eddie said with mock-offense. “Okay, I see how it is. Gang up on the injured guy, why don’t you.”

“Da-ad,” Chris whined, fixing him with a very grown-up look. “We just care about you.”

Eddie pursed his lips, that unknown emotion threatening to drown him again. “Yeah,” he said, more choked-up than he would like. “I know.”

A small hand covered his, and Eddie flipped his own over to give it a squeeze. “Why don’t you go put on the next episode of María, okay? We’ll translate for Buck.”

Chris smirked. “You mean you’ll translate for Buck.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, kid,” Eddie offered as Chris disappeared into the living room.

And later, when they were all piled on the couch, Christopher giggling at Eddie’s half-assed translations and Buck protesting that he understands more Spanish than you think, guys, the newest dose of pain meds forced upon him by Buck making his head more than a bit fuzzy, Eddie thought to himself: I wish it could be like this forever.

Buck shouted in exaggerated outrage to make Chris laugh, gesturing at some ridiculous plot point playing out on the screen, and Eddie let that huge wave of feeling bowl him over—that world-ending, all-consuming love.

Just this. Forever.

“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Hen said, a hand raised to keep Eddie quiet. “He has this whole thing about his girlfriends being couches, and the couch he finally bought is your couch?”

Feeling somehow embarrassed, Eddie just nodded. Hen shared a smirk with Chimney, sitting on the lawn chair that Maddie hadn’t let him move from for the entire party.

“That’s like—almost romantic,” Chimney snorted.

“What?” Eddie said.

“He’s been looking for the perfect couch, but it was yours all along!” Chim crowed, and Hen dissolved into giggles. She was definitely more than a little drunk.

“It’s so sweet, Eddie, come on,” she needled.

“Well, sure, but—” Eddie sputtered. “—romantic? Come on, guys.”

“No, you—you come on.” Hen said around a hiccup. “You guys are—Buck and Eddie! Eddie and Buck!”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied with a frown. “And you guys are Hen and Chim.”

“Nah, no, no, no,” Chim said with a wagging finger. “It’s not the same.”

“How is it not the same?” Eddie threw his hands in the air, one hampered by the half-full bottle in his hand. “You guys are partners, just like us.”

“Yeah, but,” Hen said. “You guys are partners,” she explained, trying for some hand gesture that must have gotten lost in the all the alcohol and rush of the party because she just ended up clasping her hands together awkwardly.

“You guys are crazy,” Eddie said with a long-suffering shake of his head.

“And you’re crazy about Buck,” Hen said in an it’s-so-obvious whisper.

Eddie drew back. “What?”

“Hen—” Chimney started, a hand on her arm.

She shook him off. “No, I gotta—Eddie, you and Buck are like, perfect for each other. You love him, right?” Her eyes were wide and earnest behind her glasses.

“Of course I do,” Eddie said automatically.

Hen gestured emphatically, whacking Chim on the shoulder like this proved her point.

“Hen,” Eddie said gently. “Did you forget that I’m straight?”

Hen scowled, like she did not want to be reminded of this fact. “Okay, but like—if Buck was a girl, you would have asked him out by now. You’d be like—fucking married by now.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but found his mind stuck on Hen’s words. If Buck was a girl. Him and Buck, married. Eddie felt far drunker than he should be off just one and a half beers.

“Eddie, ignore her,” Chim cut in.

Hen frowned. “I’m going to find Karen,” she declared.

Eddie watched her retreating form, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “He’s my best friend,” he said belatedly.

“Eddie.” Chimney kicked his leg. “Ignore her, okay? She’s drunk.”

“Yeah, but—” Eddie started.

“Look,” Chim sighed. “We joke about you and Buck sometimes, okay?”

“You do?” Eddie asked.

“Little stuff,” Chimney assured. “Just, like, you’re each other’s favorite person and you’re missing what’s right in front of you, or whatever.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, to refute—what?—but Chim continued.

“But they’re just jokes, okay? We know you’re both straight. I mean, it’d be great if you weren’t, or whatever, but that’s not the world we live in.”

Eddie’s jaw closed with a click. He sipped his beer.

“He’s your best friend.” Eddie looked back to Chimney. “And that’s—” He seemed to search Eddie’s face for a moment. “That’s enough, right?”

Eddie swallows. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Exactly,” Chim agreed with an easy smile. “So, don’t worry about it, okay? She’s just drunk and forgot that we don’t make those jokes in front of you guys.”

Eddie nodded. “Right. Besides, Buck has a girlfriend, and—I have a date on Friday, so…”

“You have a date on Friday?” Chimney exclaimed. “That’s great!”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, voice flat.

Chimney clapped him on the forearm, unable to reach his shoulder from his sitting position. “Look, man, you’ll find that perfect girl-version of Buck out there, okay? I believe.”

Eddie chuckled. “Sure.”

He looked out to the party—his eyes immediately found Buck, head thrown back in laughter at something Athena had said. The string lights of the backyard made his styled curls shine with a honey-colored fire, his fingers curled carelessly around the neck of a beer bottle made Eddie’s mouth feel suddenly dry.

Just this. Just you, Eddie thought.

“You’re right,” he said to Chimney with a hollow smile. “I’ll find someone.”

[shima-draws]

can we get an ace sneak peek?

Yes you may <3 A couple people asked for Luffy too so I give you. BOTH the brothers!!

AREN'T THEY CUTE??? I cannot wait to holde them in my hands

[gingermintpepper]

I am publicly apologising for the person I will become in an hour when Fields of Mistria releases. I will absolutely be posting about it.

[sanddusted-wisteria]

"So you won't brush your hair, but you'll brush mine?"

"Combing my hair is an unnecessary use of time. This, on the other hand, is not."

---

Hehehehe Wis and Qi brainrot is the only thing getting me through finals :> My tumblr/fics have been pretty dead for a good part of this semester, but rest assured, I've been thinking about my blorbos constantly. I've still been cooking behind the scenes and I hope to get back into it as soon as I can <3

[jonathanbyersphd]

I know we all want an og monster hunting trio revival in s5 but consider the following instead:

It's giving The boys are back in town, the boys of summer, The boys are back. A little mansplain, manipulate, malewife. Very much introducing your new bestie to the one that got away and them hitting it off.

[pushing500]

Drill the Waster Wild Woman finally collapsed from her psychite dependence- fortunately, Mechi was prepared and had some yayo on hand for her. Once she had taken it, she got up and wandered off the map. Good luck out there, Drill!

We also have a giraffe named Elmo now, so that's nice.

Another wanderer joins, and this time Mechi has an interesting idea... All in the pursuit of knowledge, you understand.

Whaaaat?? Who could have seen this coming??? Crazy how things like this happen by accident. How about that.

Anyway, Sanma, Elmo, and Sanma's new creepy-ass stomach are all safely at Arwell now. Hopefully they settle in quickly.

Also, some traders sold us a beagle that we named Brandy. She's a very good girl, and now Mechi gets double nuzzles from his dog and cat. He's living his best life.

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