#not that real-life was even really that romantic at all but-

[fayecreates]

Naked in Manhattan

A/N: pls send requests, i need them for my shitty trip. (A little update 2 days later) im gonna cry my eyes out if i have to stay her for any longer.

Premise: Teen!Vi x teen!reader, being unlikely friends, having a sleepover together and that leads to a bit of silly stuff (NOTHING WEIRD JUST KISSING)

Warnings: uh kissing? Idk, dont read this if you’re like 30 cuz thats a little weird. Probably a wrong description of friday the 13th, i watched it like 5 years ago so idk all i know is theres a sex scene at the start.

To put it simply, you were a weird kid. From 1st grade to now you didnt have many friends. It wasnt horrible, it was honestly pretty nice. Less drama to worry about and more time to get your homework done so you can do whatever you want. That was until you met Vi.

She was a pretty sociable person, not like happy to talk constantly, just unafraid of interaction. You both sat by each other during biology, it came to you easily but with Vi it took a little more time… after a while she started to ask for your help. It was never a demand to do her homework, and you could tell that she was really struggling. It started with a few short explanations, to a few short conversations about the shitty teacher, to plans to hang out afterschool. It was all so fast for you, was this even how friendships started? Either way it was fine, not like you could call it off when you’re 5 minutes away from her house.

Your heart raced at the thought of even being in her house. Was it weird to dress up for this? Were your pajamas appropriate? What would her house look like? You sat in the backseat of the car, gripping onto the strap of your bag for dear life, contemplating if it was even normal to be this nervous. I mean you were acting like you were going on your first date, and it’d be weird to date another girl, right? I mean Vi was pretty but wasn’t in a romantic way, maybe… your racing thoughts were cut off by the sudden stop of the car. You quickly got out, making sure you had all your stuff on you.

After talking to Vi’s dad Vander for a little, you sat on the floor of Vi’s bedroom, looking around like you about escape. She had a few posters, most of some boxers you didn’t know and some rock bands you also didn’t know. Her room was messy but you can see that she attempted to clean up a bit. It was a little after 9pm, Vi was talking to her dad about watching some movies on the TV. A part of you wanted to beg to be picked up and the other wanted to stay forever.

“Alright, you up to watch some horror movies?” Vi said with a smirk on her face, holding up a few CDs of shitty shock value horror. You smiled, standing up and walking quickly to living room together.

You both sat on the couch together, a space between the two of you. “Okay… Friday the 13th or Hellraiser?” She asked with a daring look on her face as she held both them up. You pointed to Friday the 13th, i mean you’ve heard about it more so it couldn’t be that bad, right? Vander was out going to the store, and Powder was out for the night by now. Vi put the CD in and you both sat watching. Maybe you spent a little too much time caring about if your posture was bad or if you should hold something, but as soon as the opening scene came on you didn’t know how to act. Seeing the people move in such a manner to mimic sex, you knew it was probably not real but it made you blush a bit. As you listened to the faux moans, you felt weird. You imagined yourself as the girl for a minute, it wasn’t too enjoyable compared to imagining the both of you there. But you wouldn’t do that with Vi, that would be weird, right. Safe to say you stayed silent for the rest of the movie, barely even getting scared if you excuse jumping a few times.

After it had ended you sort of just spaced out. Vi took a notice of that, assuming you were just scared or something. “…you wanna watch something easier?” She said after a second of silence, you just nodded. She quickly got up to look through CDs again, finally landing on Mean Girls to cleanse your palate. Putting in and watching felt a bit better. You both made fun of them and laughed with each other, it was weirdly bonding. The clock hit 11pm, you guys were a bit closer on the couch. You looked to Vi at a funny part, seeing if she would laugh, you didn’t know why seeing her smile made your heart race. Your eyes met and she smiled at just you, but you felt like you were caught stealing something so you quickly looked away.

The movie ended and Vander came back, telling you both to go to bed. You both obliged, even though you shared a small look, knowing you’d stay up until you couldn’t keep your eyes open. You both sat on the floor of Vi’s bedroom, attempting to think of something to do. “Maybe we could play truth or dare?” You ask, it was stereotypical but it was a fun game, theoretically. Vi lit up, like it was the idea of a century. “I’ll start, truth or dare?” Vi said with a smile, holding her pillow in her lap. “Truth?” You were bit unsure, still anxious if all your actions were okay. “Okay… who’s your celebrity crush?” Vi asks with the same smile plastered on her face. You thought long and hard, you couldn’t say some like Kristen Stewart or any other girl, that would make it so tense. “…uh… whoever the actor is for Elvira…” you say, hesitant but you couldn’t lie. Lying would be worse than making it awkward. She looked a bit shocked. “Really? You like girls?” She says like it just unexpected rather than weird. “I dont know… i mean probably.” You say, trying to push off the topic, it wasn’t something for you to decide right now, or you just told yourself that. It was silent and awkward for a moment, well for you. You forgot it was your turn. “Oh, truth or dare?” You say quickly, attempting to completely forget, or at least think of a way to give yourself short term memory loss. “Truth.” She says, her smile still unmoving. “Uh… have you ever dated someone?” You ask, a little hesitant. The warm light of a lamp illuminated Vi’s face, it was covered in scars but it was pretty to you. “No, datings for losers.” She says with a laugh, it was unexpected though. Someone so nice, so pretty, i mean you would totally date her— never mind. “Truth or dare.” Vi says, her voice daring. You couldn’t pick truth again, it’d a pussy move. “Dare.” You said with a surge of confidence. It was a moment of silence as Vi contemplated what dare to give her.

“I dare you to kiss me.” Vi says with a smirk, like she knew you wouldn’t do it. Your face became hot as can be. You froze for a minute, it was so weird to even think about doing that with any girl, let alone Vi. You didn’t know if it was a sudden rush of adrenaline or what, all that you did know was the feeling of Vi’s lips pressed against yours. You held the side of her cheek, as if she would leave if you let go. Vi was surprised, well that was before she responded with ten times the amount of force in the kiss. Almost straight up knocking you down, her hands falling to your shoulder and your waist. After a minute that felt way too long, she broke the kiss. Your insides felt crazy, you had never felt like this ever. Her smile was so wide as she stared into your eyes, your own expression just being plain shocked.

“…was that too much?” Vi asked, you shook your head maybe a bit too much. You started to smile, the warm feeling growing in your stomach. With only the smallest bit of hesitance she kissed you once more, well it was more like a hundred small kisses, but it lasted forever. Her hand that was planted on your waist gently moved upwards onto your ribcage, feeling your heart race. On the other hand, yours were stuck like they were weighed down with concrete. It was awkward, intense as well, she prodded her tongue onto your lips just a bit, as if asking for entrance. You separate your lips a smidge, her tongue quickly entering. It was awkward, you let out a few weird noises, she almost passed out from lack of oxygen. After breaking the kiss, you both sat there awkwardly, not really knowing what to do next.

“Uh… that was nice…” Vi says with a flushed face and a dorky smile. You nodded, you had never once expected to make out with anyone, let alone a girl. It was nice, very nice.

[r0tting-rat]

"Too much?"

A little gift for @/ping-ski, who is driving me absolutely mad with their Sugar Daddy!Eclipse to the point I couldn't help but to write down a short drabble. Some details below for those who aren't familiar with their wonderful au (GO CHECK IT OUT RN PLEASE IT'S WORTH IT)

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Eclipse (by @ping-ski) x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: Suggestive, use of alcohol/reader is tipsy. Also, sorry Pingu, he might be a bit ooc! I wasn't sure how flirty I could make him Words: 1200+ Summary: It's the winder holidays, and you just came home after a long evening spent with your dear beloved. Additional tags: Established relationship, Eclipse is a wonderful father, the kid's name is Atlas.

The weather outside is frigid, wind is howling against the tall windows, but the inside of Eclipse's house is warm and inviting. You've just come home after a very long evening with your beloved, an evening that left you feeling elated and giddy like a highschooler—a time of your life that you have long left behind, even though your cheeks still have the habit of warming up whenever your robotic lover looks your way and your stomach flutters at each time you kiss. You have waved goodbye to Esther, Atlas' nanny, just a few minutes before, and she has assured you that the little boy has been fast asleep for a few hours already. You don't miss how Eclipse smiles when she tells him how the boy asked for his "papa" before falling asleep.

"I'll cook him his favourite breakfast tomorrow," he says, more to himself than to you or Esther, "As an apology for my tardiness."

The house is silent, Atlas is soundly sleeping, and you have drunk a little more than usual at the restaurant. For no real reason! It was just a very good wine: fruity, amazingly aged, heavy on the tongue and warm in the gullet. You can still feel it when you swallow down the bile forming in the back of your throat—which is a lot, considering you have stared at Eclipse for the entire ride home, lost in the thought of kissing him as soon as his face turned your way.

You sigh as you step into your shared house, not worried about waking Atlas with the sound of your shoes on the marbled floor thanks to the good soundproofing of the rooms, and you decide to go sit on the couch to rest your tired feet. You and Eclipse had decided to take a walk around the city centre after leaving the restaurant, simply to enjoy the Christmas decorations that have been put up in every corner of the city, and before you knew it you were about to collapse. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drop on the soft cushions of the couch, but a cold hand catches you by the waist before you can truly be enveloped by the rich fabrics. Unsurprised, you open your eyes just to find an amused Eclipse staring right back down at you, half-lidded eyes and soft silicone lips extremely close to your flushed face—blush still caused by the alcohol, mind you—he chuckles, and the flush deepens just enough to reach your neck and chest. Eclipse's eyes travel down a moment to follow it as it spreads like ink on your soft skin, and you pretend not to notice that he never really goes back to look you in the eyes, stopping instead on your lips.

"How about a dance?" he asks, out of the blue, and you giggle.

"Dancing with no music? How romantic, Eclipse," you say, before realizing he's completely serious.

The animatronic hums, and immediately his grip on your waist strengthens, and that's your only warning before he pulls you back on your feet to sweep you into a mind-twisting dance. You don't understand where he's taking you, you don't understand what's around you, all you know is that one of his hands is holding one of yours, while the other is placed on the small of your back. You dance in the middle of the large living room, feeling wine-red clouds crowding your mind and your sight slightly unfocusing, and you couldn't be happier.

You don't even have to actually do anything; Eclipse has a firm hold on you, and he's always careful not to spin you too fast, in case it could upset your stomach. All you have to do is let yourself go—one hand on one of his upper arms, one of his shoulder—and allow him to manhandle you into beautiful twirls and languid strides. You rest your head on his warm chest, hearing his inner gears and pistons at work, and the world around you is so hazy you might forget it exists. You sigh and think that maybe that's actually all you need in life: a cold evening, a warm embrace, some soothing wine, and Eclipse's love.

The dance stops after just 5 minutes—which feel like hours to you—and you and your partner simply stand one in the other's arms, like two lovers painted by Klimt, sharing the same passion, familiarity, and devotion. Except, differently from Klimt's picture, your beloved is holding you with four arms instead of two.

"How do you feel?" asks Eclipse after a long pause, and the only answer you can manage to utter is a murmur, "I didn't hear you, my dearest."

"Amazingly," you finally say, groggily looking up at him, "I wanna kiss you."

"Sounds like a perfect plan," he grins, "But how do you plan to enact it? Can you even reach my face?"

He laughs, and, a little offended, you do kiss him. You stand on your tippy toes, you crane your neck, and kiss his jaw; the only spot your lips can reach, but it's enough to make him stop and look down at you, surprised that you actually took the lead.

"Wanna try again, love?" he teases, having already recovered from your kiss, leaning down a little, "Or do I need to pick you up?"

His laugh is mocking, and once more you consider showing him what you're actually capable of—should you climb him like a tree? The idea is tempting—until you stop and actually think about his words.

"Yes," you say, parting from him just to look at his beautiful mismatched eyes. "I do, actually."

Eclipse stops laughing, then hums, growing more amused by the second.

"Okay."

In less than a second you're hoisted up between his bulky arms, legs on either side of his hips, face right in front of his, and your arms thrown over his shoulders.

"Much better," you smile sweetly at him, slowly letting your hands wander to the back of his head, then to his bottom rays, which you caress with a lot of care, and lastly to his neck. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, my doll," he sing-songs, not really noticing what you're doing with your fingers until his tie comes undone on his chest and his elegant button-up opens, letting the vents placed on the side of his chest breathe in fresh air. He looks down, seeing your fingers tracing his torso while unbuttoning his shirt, and his black and golden optics widen with interest. It's your turn to grin.

"Too much?" you ask, and Eclipse begins to make a rumbling sound with his voicebox, a sound that reminds you of a purr, deep and warm when it resonates with your chest and stomach.

"Not enough," he whispers, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, toying with your breath with the way you're holding it back, afraid he could sense through it exactly how much you craved him. His voice is low, dangerous, and you feel it vibrate in the depths of your mind when he speaks. "Not nearly enough, not in any way, my doll. Let me kiss you properly this time, will you?"

You all should thank @hexcii cuz I started writing this drabble during one of our simping sessions (we take turns rambling and yapping about the dca) and yea. we both got the i'm-gay-for-robots virus.

[opbackgrounds]

The Romanticism of One Piece III: Emotionality and the Absurd

AO3 Part I Part II Part IV

“Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings?” —Charlotte Brontë

After opening with Roger’s death in chapter one, the perspective of the manga immediately switches to focus on our main protagonist, whose first action we see is of him stabbing himself in the face in order to look cool. The introductory panel of Luffy is one of childish, absurd determination. His mouth alone takes up over half his face. It looks a bit silly, and after patching him up, Shanks just…laughs. 

The Romantics, on the whole, were not silly people, but they were bursting at the seams with emotion. If you read a Romantic novel expect the characters to spend a great deal of time soliloquizing about their feelings. If you look at a Romantic painting expect bold colors and dynamism composition. If you listen to a Romantic musician expect songs that are passionate and full of energy, unrestrained from traditional forms. In a word, these people were extra. Specifically, the Romantics embraced the full spectrum of human emotion, from the depths of despair in a work like the Sorrows of Young Werther to the heights depicted within the essays of the American transcendentalism movement. 

This heightened emotionalism of the Romantics always trumped over what was realistic or scientific. For example, look at a work like Jane Eyre. While melodramatic, it’s a work that ostensibly takes place in the real world. Yet the most emotionally-charged moments introduce supernatural elements, including reuniting the main couple at the end when Jane randomly hears Mr. Rochester speak her name on the wind from halfway across the country. 

And by random, I truly do mean random. It’s difficult to put into words how out of left field this is for the reader. There are only a few pages left in the book, and by this time the main couple has spent more time apart than together and had no reason to believe they’d ever be reunited. But their love becomes a literal supernatural force strong enough for Jane to rush after him without hesitation, and they live happily ever after. 

(Please, I beg of you to watch the last 10 minutes of this movie. It was one of the most unintentionally hilarious experiences of my life).

It’s an extreme and slightly goofy example, but what is One Piece if not extreme and slightly goofy? It’s a story that, at its most fundamental level, makes you feel. We all know the pain of crying over a boat, and what makes the death of the Merry, along with any other number of things that should be stupid but aren’t, is Oda’s commitment to sincerity. Emotional truth trumps logic, always. It’s why we celebrate characters like Bellmere who can’t not call herself a mother, even if it costs her her life. The bond of found family is more powerful than the logical choice of denouncing Nami and Nojiko. Oda had other characters try to inject logic into Bellmere’s decision after the fact, but there’s no evidence from Bellemere herself that she was behaving logically, and we love her for it.

The artstyle itself emphasizes emotional truth over realism. Oda is more than capable of drawing in a more realistic or traditionally “cool” style if he wanted to, but it would be to the detriment of the story he’s trying to tell. Every smile takes up half a character’s face. People who are crying are portrayed as sniveling wrecks. Their fury becomes palpable, their hopelessness gut-wrenching, their joy contagious. Oda chose very early on not to give Luffy thought bubbles, and in the absence of knowing what he’s thinking, it was absolutely imperative that the audience knew what he’s feeling. The few times his expression becomes ambiguous immediately stand out and lend a scene a sense of weight that borders on unease.

This expressiveness doesn’t stop with the character designs. Oda will tweak perspective to make important people or places seem even larger than they really are. Buildings will follow Loony Toons logic if a gag calls for it. Locations and ships, particularly once the crew reaches the Grand Line, become absurd and impossible. 

(Remember, Hancock and Mihawk are both only a little over six foot tall)

But for One Piece, it’s in this absurdity that the impossible becomes possible, through sheer force of will. Luffy is on every level ridiculous, but it’s because he’s ridiculous that he choses at every turn to keep fighting against forces that by all rights should be impossible to defeat. Many of Luffy’s most despicable enemies are the ones who in some way or another have taken away other people’s ability to feel as they wish. Arlong took away Nami’s happiness and made her cry. Crocodile stole Vivi’s ability to smile. The zombies of Thriller Bark are reduced to mindless slaves while the toys under Doflamingo’s rule are physically unable to emote. And perhaps most powerfully of all, the people of Wano and the slaves of the Celestial Dragons are both forced to smile despite their horrific circumstances, a bastardization of the joy Luffy brings no matter where he goes. 

In his prelude to the Lyrical Ballads, William Wordsworth wrote that, “All good poetry is the overflow of powerful emotion”. He linked emotion to motion, or action, with the catalist between the two being the creative power of imagination. While many of Luffy’s fights are ultimately won because he’s able to punch another person real good, the seemingly limited ability of the gum-gum fruit forces him to come up with increasingly-creative ways in which one can stretch, until he’s able to stretch the fabric of reality itself to bend to his whims. It is said, in all the world, that there is no power more ridiculous.

At the end of chapter 218 a galleon falls from the sky, and Oda quotes fictional physicist Willy Karen as stating, “Anything man can imagine is a possibility in reality.” It is through the power of imagination and absurdity that Luffy fights against the forces of oppression. There is nothing more dangerous to an institution than losing its credibility, and nothing so dangerous to one’s credibility than the power of mockery. If one can face the darkest, most difficult times and still laugh then, well, they become a little less dark and difficult. By laughing, and helping others to do the same, it becomes easier to make it through another day. It’s important, I think, that Oda has emphasized the act of laughing so much, drawing attention to it by virtue of giving out unique laughs all throughout the series.

One Piece has the reputation of being the silly pirate manga. This isn’t untrue, but it does a disservice to the breadth of feeling the series inspires. As I said, we’ve all cried over a boat. Slavery, oppression, and every sort of hardship exist within the One Piece world just as much as it does our own. 

Oda’s answer is to combat these things with the silly and the absurd, by being creative and imaginative while pursuing one’s passions with one’s whole heart, no matter where those passions may lead. He tells the reader you have the right to feel as you wish and pursue joy wherever you may. And when you run up against resistance, you fight like hell for what you believe in. 

And as it turns out, that’s a Romantic virtue, too.

[cynicalclairvoyantcadaver]

My take on Will being Nico's doctor

You know, I AM in fact fine with Will being a doctor and being Nico's boyfriend as long as he isn't Nico's doctor.

Because being a doctor for someone while you're dating them is a problem, even if you're at a children's summer camp. Being romantically involved with someone and medically treating when it's not necessary is not a very good thing.

HOWEVER-if it was absolutely necessary for a situation they were in, if no other doctor could treat Nico, then I think that it would be fine for Will to treat Nico. That's all. Because in real life, if there's no other option, doctors do in fact treat their significant others.

However, Will should not be able to make medical decisions for Nico.

In fact, shouldn't an adult be making medical decisions for Nico when Nico doesn't make them for himself? Will is not an adult. In fact, he isn't even a proper professional doctor-he's just a healer (I'm not talking about his abilities, they're way more extensive than just healing, I'm talking about his capacity for medicine and medicinal information).

If Nico can't make a medical decision for himself, let's not hand the decision to to a teenage minor doctor.

Let's hand it to a proper adult-Chiron, Dionysus, Hades or Persephone. They're Nico's real guardians.

That's my take. I don't really care about Solangelo, just found it really random. Also I don't hate Will Solace, I just think that Rick could've written him better.

[charrednewt]

Saw Nosferatu. Got a little bit obsessed, need to post about it.

First little thing I appreciated apart from all of the technical mastery on display: there are cats and they are unharmed. Seeing cats in horror movies makes me nervous because they are very prone to getting hurt and for some reason are considered more expendable than dogs. But cats in Nosferatu are only there for thematic reasons and to provide an interesting point of connection between Ellen and Franz, which I appreciated.

I was expecting to enjoy the movie but it surpassed my admittedly low (went in as blind as possible) expectations in every way.

What I particurarly enjoyed was how layered the vampire, the myth, the legend, Nosferatu was as a figure.

Nosferatu as the parasitic nobility. He is a decaying corpse wearing what are the traditional nobility clothes and hairstyle of his country and living in a secluded crumbling castle, this is obvious. But also in the way he insists on title, on being called Your Grace, and on the blood of his lineage. Very much in the way he expects people to bend to his command and in the way he literally expects to buy who he wants, in the way he abuses Knock and dismisses him as a lowly dog.

Nosferatu as the sexual predator, everyone saw this. It links to the way he uses people and marks them and expects to own them for this reason to do as he pleases. The way he acts with Thomas is explicitly predatorial and framed as an assault, the way he pursues Ellen is the way a groomer goes after a victim. This is all pretty explicit in the movie.

Nosferatu as the sexual trauma that you cannot let go of. Because maybe it made you worse, but it made you, it became a part of your life wether you like it or not.

Nosferatu as the pathetic shitty ex that insists on coming back and owning a life that has moved on, because he doesn't accept that it has. Because owning somebody or feeling like he did was all that he had in his life. There are moments in the movie where you can see the person beneath the monster and that person is desperate, lonely, a petty liar. Somebody who really should have let go years ago.

I disagree with the people that see a romantic connection between Ellen and Orlock, but there is a connection. Ellen has desires that the society around her does not recognize as real and represses. Orlock says that he is the only one that will accept her, but he's lying. Thomas at first is too taken up in his role as a husband and breadwinner, but then he believes her, he accepts her even when she thinks she is tainted and unacceptable.

To me the way that in the end she traps Orlock in her bed felt like a reversal of the predator/prey dynamic that had been present in the rest of the movie. It was a moment where she really owned what she felt and what she was capable of doing.

I feel like this movie is going to roll around in my cranium for a while. It felt rich.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

117 for 🐓:

---

 His first thought is sort of dramatic. Thieves. Thieves are coming for Buck and Mrs. Gladwell’s homes! To be fair, he heard a lot of Athena stories at Chrismtas dinner. 

He pauses his podcast and listens for a minute. And it is in listening that everything changes. 

“You have a key, just use a key,” comes a very familiar voice. Albeit, one he has not heard in person in half a year. 

“I can’t do that,” replies his favorite voice ever. 

Buck stiffens. What… What are they doing here?

“Why not? He gave it to you,” Chris says.

“Because he doesn’t know we’re here,” Eddie replies. “We can’t just barge into his house. What if…” 

“What if what? He’s not even home.” 

“Uh, nothing. It’s just rude. We can’t. We’ll just wait and surprise him when he gets here. It’s usually around this time.” 

Buck is grinning. He’s grinning. They came to surprise him? For New Year’s? That’s incredible.

“Okay, but, Dad, I really have to pee.” 

“Shoot. Fine, okay. We’ll unlock it, you go in there, and then come right back out and we’ll make it look like you never broke in.”

Buck is about to laugh out loud. Seems as good a time as any to give himself away.

“Or,” he says, walking around the corner and into view. Not just their view. Their view. He can see them. Right in front of him. Real. “I can unlock the door, and you don’t have to pretend anything.”

Eddie and Chris whip around to look at him. Christopher’s face breaks out in a huge, warm smile. 

“Buck! You’re here!” He beams. 

“I’m here?” Buck asks, striding over to them. “You’re here!”

He bends - though far less than he used to have to - to hug Chris. He wraps one arm around him, grabbing Eddie’s forearm with the other and squeezing. Like he needs to touch them both to make sure they’re actually real. 

“Surprise,” Eddie says sort of weakly. His voice sounds tight. 

Buck shifts his body a little, drops the hand holding Eddie’s arm, and opens the hug. 

“Come on, man, don’t make me choose,” he pleads.

Eddie laughs, then wraps his arms around both of them. For a too-short, precious moment, it’s all okay. Everything is okay. Something that has been broken since the spring is whole, and Buck feels a bone-deep sense of ease. He’s okay. They’re okay. They’re here. 

When Buck pulls away, he can’t hide the tears in his eyes. 

“Um, Buck,” Chris says.

“Yeah?” Buck asks.

“I love you and I missed you but can you open the door so I can pee?” 

Eddie and Buck both laugh. Buck steps in, pulls out his keys, and unlocks the door. 

“Make yourself at home,” Buck says. Like, please? Home. In this city. Where they belong?

Once Chris is gone, Buck turns to Eddie and pulls him into another hug. And… And it’s a bit different from the way they usually hug. For one, Buck is holding onto him so tight it hurts his arms. Two, Eddie lets his head drop onto Buck’s shoulder. It’s strangely intimate, for nothing at all happening. 

“What are you doing here?” Buck asks breathlessly when they part.

Eddie’s cheeks flush. “I miss you.”

“Eddie, god. I miss you, too.”

“Uh… I have something to say, and… And, I mean, I took a pretty big shot coming here, so can you listen before commenting?”

Buck blinks, surprised. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Eddie nods and takes a deep breath. 

“I almost ruined my whole life this year, at various different points,” Eddie says. 

Buck frowns. Damn.

“And I don’t think I realized just how close I was to really sealing the deal, but luckily… Luckily, I have a pretty observant kid.”

Buck wants to cry. They must be really talking to each other again. They must be… Oh god. Chris came here. With Eddie. Are they back under one roof?

“One of the mistakes I made, clearly, was thinking I could… That I could just be somewhere you aren’t without being miserable.”

Buck can’t help the way his jaw just sort of drops. That’s like… The most romantic thing anyone has ever said to him! And it wasn’t even said romantically! Wait. Right? It wasn’t said romantically, right? 

[eyitzme]

ᵖⁱˢˢ ʸᵉˡˡᵒʷ ᵉʸᵉˢ ;; ᵏᵃⁱᵐᵒⁿ ⁽ᵖ:ᵉᵍ⁾

Summary: Kai Monteago wants to hear his boyfriend, Damon Maitsu, say something romantic to him. Damon Maitsu accidentally messes up when he describes Kai’s eyes as “piss yellow.” Word Count: 1,340 A/N: Last fanfic of the year! And it’s inspired by me telling my sister that Kai’s eyes are piss yellow when we were watching the official walkthrough together! I was immediately motivated to write a one shot where Kai’s romantic partner describes his eyes as piss yellow after I said that, and Damon was the first character to come to my mind. My sister encouraged me to write it, so even though the other two scenes that follow it weren’t originally planned, this is officially my last one shot and the last fanfic I post for 2024. I have no regrets! Oh, and before we start, don't forget your daily clicks!

i know i don’t need to do this, but i want to.

A few things surprised Damon Maitsu when he became Kai Monteago’s boyfriend. Kai was an influencer, so he knew he would have to deal with girls accusing him of stealing their lover, who Kai didn’t even know existed, and a huge lack of privacy online, maybe even coming into real life. That was all to be expected. What he didn’t prepare that much for was Kai himself.

“Isn’t it weird?” Kai asked him one day. “There’s 8,000,000,000 people in this world. That means there’s 16,000,000,000 eyes.”

“Some people only have one eye,” Damon replied. “We also have more than 8,000,000,000 people in the world right now.”

He huffed. “Smarty pants… Lemme rephrase that!” he quickly added before he could respond. “There’s more than 8,000,000,000 people in the world. That’s a ton of people. You can’t even count that high unless you spent a long time doing it.”

“Obviously.” Damon frowned. “What’s your point?”

Kai smiled. “There’s more than 8,000,000,000 people in this world, but you’re still my favourite. It’s a little weird, huh?”

“I… I guess…” Honestly, what he said just now was kind of stupid, but he understood where he was coming from. He ignored the feelings of butterflies in his stomach.

“Okay, your turn!” Kai exclaimed.

“My turn? For what?”

“It’s your turn to say something romantic to me! We’re dating, after all; you should say something romantic to me at some point, and I’m deciding it’s today!”

“O… Okay, uhh…” His mind went blank.

Fortunately, Kai didn’t look disappointed at his lack of an immediate answer. “I knew you were going to have trouble thinking of something. Don’t worry, I’ll help you!”

Damon was going to ask if that just made whatever he was meant to say disingenuous, but Kai had a way of doing things that Damon didn’t fully understand. It wasn’t as if he had any objections to this, anyway.

“Try something basic,” he suggested. “Like…my eyes. Talk about my eyes.”

“Your eyes? Okay. Your eyes are…” Damon’s gaze went to his boyfriend’s eyes. They shined as he waited for the end of the sentence. Kai was very expressive, which must have helped his popularity online, and his eyes were no exception. He could guess whatever Kai was feeling based on how his eyes looked alone. Even without the emotions, his eyes were a bright colour. Now that he was spending quite some time looking at his eyes, Damon noticed how the colour of Kai’s eyes were really just piss yellow.

“My eyes are…piss yellow?”

That was not meant to be spoken out loud.

“No, wait—”

“I-I guess it’s fine,” Kai said with an uneasy smile. “I know what I signed up for when I started dating you. You don’t give all that romantic stuff. So, umm… It’s all baby steps, you know? My eyes being piss yellow is okay ‘cause we’re just starting…”

No, it wasn’t. Kai obviously felt disappointed. Damon disappointed Kai. Goddammit.

. . .

Damon could have left it alone at that. He knew he wasn’t the most romantic person out there, and so did Kai. Since Kai could and would get over that piss-yellow incident eventually, there was no reason to keep thinking about it. Still, Damon kept thinking about it and went to the one person experienced enough to help him.

Despite how embarrassing it was to seek the help of a 14-year-old, let alone asking someone for help in the first place, Toshiko Kayura listened to him better than he thought she would. When he finished, she said, “Clearly, you lack knowledge of properly treating your lover. Fortunately, I saw Kai not too long ago, and he seemed fine. Of course, he may be disguising his feelings from me.”

“Can you just tell me what to do?” Damon asked.

“I’m thinking! Ladies must be given time to think of their plans.” She glared at him from behind her fan. “If you continue to disrupt me, you can forget about having my help!”

As annoying as it was, Damon forced himself to stay quiet.

Satisfied, Toshiko became silent as she thought. After a few seconds, she said, “Ladies might not say it, but a lot of us appreciate being gifted flowers. Kai isn’t a lady, but considering how he is like, I am certain he will appreciate flowers just as much as any other lady. It might be overdone or cliché, but flowers are nice gifts to get someone to help them forgive you.”

That was decent advice. “What kind of flowers should I get him?”

“Roses make this gift even more cliché, so I advise against it. I’m a fan of primroses myself. Damon’s eyes are yellow, so you can get him yellow primroses, since this situation started because you called his eyes… Since you described it with that word. Not only that, but they symbolize happiness, warmth, and love. They are better to give to someone whom you are in a long-term relationship with, and while I don’t currently know if you and Kai plan on staying together for a long time, I’m sure Kai will appreciate the flowers nonetheless. Someone like him will appreciate a simple yet sincere romantic gesture such as this.” Toshiko smiled. “I helped you, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Damon reluctantly admitted. “Thank you, Toshiko.”

Even with her fan blocking her face, Damon could see how happy Toshiko was at hearing that.

. . .

“You got me flowers?” Kai beamed as he held the bouquet of yellow primroses in his hands. “You actually got me flowers!”

“They’re primroses,” Damon added. “They symbolize—”

“I don’t care what they symbolize! You got me flowers!” Kai placed a quick kiss on Damon’s lips. “I need to figure out where to put this when I get home.”

It took him a second, but Damon managed to bring his focus away from the kiss. He needed to get to the reason why he brought him the flowers in the first place. “Kai, I’m… I’m sorry for calling your eyes…piss yellow.”

Kai’s happy expression was replaced momentarily with a confused look. “Oh, that’s what the flowers are for? Please, I’m already over that.”

“You were?”

“I guess I thought an ‘I’m sorry’ would’ve been nice, but I wasn’t expecting to get one.” Before Damon could ask him what exactly he thought of him, Kai said, “And I’m happy to get it, but I never thought you’d get me flowers too! I already forgot about that piss-eye thing the second you showed these to me! I’m so happy!”

When he took out his phone, Damon asked, “Do you have to post the flowers on social media?”

“I do! I need to let everyone know about my boyfriend! Say, ‘Cheese!’” Barely giving him a second to prepare, Kai positioned himself and the bouquet to be next to Damon and took a picture. Damon didn’t have to look at the final result to know that he looked too startled for it to be a good photo of him.

As Kai posted it online, he told him, “Oh, I just realized how I got the flowers would make a funny story time. My fans will love it!”

Kai proceeded to start rambling about what he planned on posting in the near-future, which then spiralled to other topics, each barely relating to the last. Damon didn’t contribute much to the conversation, but he was fine listening to Kai talk. He always had passion for almost anything he thought was worthy enough to talk about, which made listening to him entertaining. When he first realized that, Damon found out part of the reason why Kai was so popular online.

Right now, Damon was happy with listening to Kai talk in mostly silence while admiring Kai holding the bouquet of primroses. With the lighting, the colour of the primroses looked brighter than normal—a bright yellow, just like Kai’s eyes.

[s4pphic-sh3nan1gans]

slight predicament: I have a very vague idea for a fanfic but the only problem is I'd be basing it on a recent real-life personal experience with someone and that someone has expressed lots of interest in my fanfics and would for sure read it and most likely connect the dots of the inspiration behind it andddddd y'know, I can't be having that- 😶

[vaguely-concerned]

just had the thought 'in the end the most important thing varric taught rook was how to make a home for, with, and in other people' and then I had to go lie down on the floor and clutch at my head in unceasing agony for a few hours, as you may well imagine. hawke and the kirkwall crew........ in the end you kind of saved the world a bit in the most characteristically indirect and chaotic of ways. not by anything in particular that you did or achieved or accomplished (lmao imagine!), but just by -- having existed, and by the love that was always there, despite it all, in all its imperfections, even when no one was saved by it in the end. you're not here right now and you're not quite haunting the narrative but I hear your voices bickering and arguing and laughing from the other room. (and so, I think, does varric. all the time.)

'did you think you mattered, hawke? did you think anything you ever did mattered?' yeah actually, varric says with da2 and keeps saying through the series. you were here. and I loved you. and as it turns out that mattered more than almost anything in the world, no matter how long it lasted or how fucked up it was at the time or what else happens, because varric manages to pass that feeling, that intangible... home, that echo of you all as you were together, that love, hopefully the best parts of it, on to someone else for them to bring with them on their journey, with their family. and maybe the world will be kinder this time. you never know. merrill's line of 'Everything affects everything. We were born, a bunch of things happened, and now we're in a mess with our friends.' varric's greatest fear of becoming his parents. even through the wreck and the ruin of the world, ghosts upon ghosts upon ghosts of love -- malcolm hawke, who we never even see, but his life touched hawke's and hawke's touched varric's and varric's touched rook's and rook is passing it on to the family they're creating. the unbroken legacy of love shines through in ways that are stronger and stranger than any magic. help

[undead-moth]

I know I've been on about this for a while now and I'm being a hater but you're telling me SydCarmy was "always meant to be platonic" even though there are two seasons of writing making use of tried-and-true explicitly romantic tropes, themes and writing signals, and SydLuca is going to be romantic because...he was nice to her on screen for a few minutes?

I don't even care if people ship SydLuca, or if they just prefer it, but you can't honestly tell me that you believe Carmy was always meant to be a friend but Luca is an obvious love interest.

Just because Syd and Carmy haven't kissed or confessed their love to each other doesn't mean that isn't very obviously the direction this show is going. The Bear has already shown you who is endgame. It has shown you every episode of the show so far.

Honestly I really don't think The Bear fanbase understands this show or cares about these characters or the story being told here, which is unfortunate because this show is shockingly well-written in comparison to most shows right now, and we should be so grateful for it but all we're doing is complaining that the writers led us on by not making a ship canon fast enough. It's just. Sad.

[sciderman]

Sometimes i remember a comics moment i randomly came across somewhere, where Sam Wilson mentiones a musical and Steve Rodgers says he doesn't like musicals, to whitch Sam goes "Guess that means you really are straight" and even tho i don't care about Cap America or the Avengers, the moment stuck in me for that quote by Sam. And like....Sci, any ideas if straight men actually don't like musicals or is that bullshit?

actually i think i know more gay men who hate musicals than i know straight men who hate musicals. i've had a drag queen stop me point blank when i was about to sing a barbra streisand song, and i know so many gays who pointedly hate abba. so based on my experience i think the inverse is true. most of the straight men i know are kind of impartial about musicals, but gay men? hate.

my theory is that a lot of gay men don't want to fall into stereotypes, maybe. but thaaaaat's just a theory! a gay theory.

[dancedance-resolution]

well fellas it’s happening i think i am maybe developing a crush on the girl ive been fucking recently 🫥

[ninelivesastrology]

Y'all gonna hate me for this one, but you can't call it a homoerotic friendship if that woman was never into you. It's called lust, limerence and delusion.

[beneaththebloodylake]

i really cant buy the headcanon that phoenix and edgeworth were romantically interested in each other as kids or that they were in love for the 15 or so years they didnt see each other, like it just doesnt make any sense or work at all. but i dont think this actually contradicts the way i think some of those scenes in the anime felt a bit romance coded, or like viewing phoenixs becoming a lawyer for edgeworth as like a romantic gesture? like it wasnt actually motivated by romantic feelings at all but the actual motivations and everything that happens ends up contributing towards a romantic storyline? (from a shipping perpesctive that is obviously)

[bluejayblueskies]

i've often yearned to be in a romantic relationship, from when i was pretty young to now even though i now recognize that i'm aromantic and it's not something i actually want when push comes to shove. and this probably isn't anything profound, but i've started to wonder recently if i'm actually yearning for a romantic relationship or if i'm yearning for a deeply meaningful, intimate, and loving relationship with somebody who i can trust and show all the parts of myself and know that they'll always be on my side and spend the rest of my life with, and society has just told me over and over and over again that i can't have that without the romance

[merevide]

thinking about killing eve again. thinking about eve. and her inhabitions and how she was so repressed and unfulfilled and her only true escape from that was her extensive research into female assassins and through that and getting fired and then rehired she meets villanelle and they basically bring out the worst in each other obvi but that’s also kinda their best selves because all villanelle wants is to be understood and that’s also what eve wants but she denies and denies and denies and she basically keeps denying everything until it’s too late and she’s left alone, again, screaming out in the water.