#sorry it’s the whatever generation I am in me
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luveline · 17 hours ago
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Hi Jade! Can I request Spencer and Nurse!reader? Maybe they meet when he’s wounded/she’s patching him up?
(Yes I’m a nursing student I promise we aren’t all mean girls 😔)
ty for requesting!! ik ur not all mean of course!!<3 —you meet the cutest FBI agent ever and tend his wounds. fem, 1.5k
One of the small pleasures of your job is when the patients are cute. Not many people come through as handsome as this one. You’re professional nonetheless. 
“What am I seeing you for today?” you ask, holding your hands behind your back. 
Your patient, charted as a Dr. Spencer Walter Reid, twenty nine years old, gives you a tentative smile. “Someone hit me really hard.” 
You can see the bruise forming against his temple. “Yes, I’d say so. Did you know the assailant?” 
“No, but it’s handled.” His smile turns to a grimace. “Uh, I get these, like, debilitating migraines, and I feel like I have one coming on.”
“A head injury could trigger that,” you agree, holding your hands out in front of you, little torch in hand. “Can I have a look?” you ask softly. 
When you’ve been a nurse for some time, you start to categorise people into boxes. All kinds of boxes for different things, but Spencer Reid gets a tick for a few things straight away: shy, pretty, and sensitive to touch. He must not get touched much, or he’s had a bad experience with strangers. He did just get hit in the head, you allow, brushing a sweet, mousy curl away from his head and holding it out of the way as you shine a light into each of his eyes. He flinches hard, but his pupils react as expected. 
Whoever hit him managed to break the skin, upon closer infection of the injury. The skin has turned purple at the edges of his cut. It’ll be a big bruise in just a few hours. 
“Spencer, please tell me if I hurt you, honey,” you say, voice still soft. If he’s got a migraine coming, he won’t want your usual overloud distinction. 
“It’s okay. It hurts, but not more or less when you poke it.” 
“You have a laceration, yeah? It’s about three centimetres long, but deep. I can close it with a butterfly stitch, if you’re okay with that.” 
“Yeah, please. Um, about the migraine–”
“Do you want a tramadol, honey? I think you deserve one.” 
“I can’t have narcotics.” 
You pull back and straighten the hair you’d displaced. “That’s okay, it just means you can’t have the strongest stuff. Most people try to avoid them anyhow. How about tylenol, would that be alright? Or do you avoid painkillers in general?” 
“Tylenol is fine as long as it doesn’t have the codeine with it.” 
You give him a gentle nod. “I’ll make sure it’s the right one. You can even see the bottle, if you like. Would you want them before or after the stitch?” He probably knows, but you add, “It’s not a real stitch. But it might feel tender when I’m poking around.” 
“Anything. Whatever you want to do first.” 
His eyes squeeze closed. You give him a frown he can’t see, and rest your hand on his arm. “Is there someone here with you?” you ask him.
“My friend is coming, I think. There was a lot going on.” 
“That’s okay. I’m not sending you home until I’ve fixed you, Dr. Reid.” 
He smiles, even with his eyes closed, but doesn’t say anything more. You wash your hands and find your bandages. A butterfly bandage, a sterile wipe, and a square piece of gauze to cover it cleanly. His eyes are opening again when you return, ushering him gently down the bed so you can sit on his right side near the injury. 
“What do you do for work?” you ask him. 
“I work for the FBI.” 
“You do?” You tear open the sterile wipe and again pull the curls from his forehead. “This might sting. Please tell me if it hurts too much.” 
“It’s not the cut that hurts.” 
“I’m sorry,” you say sympathetically. Migraines are a tricky business. If he’s already having one, you probably can’t do much to get rid of it, but that doesn’t mean pain relief won’t help. “I’ll do this as quickly as I can.” 
He’s quiet. You wipe around the laceration with careful, concise movements. The cut looks clean enough when you’re done, and it’s so small you won’t irrigate it. 
“Are you an agent?” you ask. 
“Yeah. Special supervisory with the BAU. The, uh, behavioural analysis unit.” 
“Oh, I know,” you say, putting the wrapping and the dirtied wipe into your cardboard bowl. “I think I’ve seen it on TV sometimes, you guys can track the serial killers and stuff?” 
“Mostly that, yeah. Uh, sometimes we find trafficking rings or missing kids. Sometimes we manage hostage situations. It depends on the level of the crisis.” 
“So you’re the big gun.” 
“I guess so. I’m not actually good with a gun.” 
“No one has to be good with a gun to change the world.” You pull the butterfly stitch from the packaging and pick at a finicky end. “I hate guns.” 
He sighs. “I do, too.” 
“They make my job hard. It’s not nice, seeing what they can do to people. It’s awful, really. Spencer, I’m so sorry, honey, I’m just gonna put this on here, it might feel uncomfortable as I pull the sides together.” 
“It’s okay.” 
You pull the plastic of the butterfly stitch on both sides, cinching his cut together promptly. It looks better now you can’t see the inside. 
“I’m gonna cover this with the dressing now. You don’t have to keep it on if you don’t want to, it’s a pretty small cut, it was just deep. I’d recommend you try to keep it dry for two days, really, you should keep it covered, but it’s up to you. And if anything happens, if it gets infected, you can always come see me again.” 
You’re mildly flirting, then. Just because he’s nice and shy. It might be a little cruel of you to proposition a man when he’s roughed up, though. 
Spencer, luckily, understands that you’re not trying to harass him. “Thank you.” 
You stand, peeling the plastic from the bandaid and exposing the sticky backing. Slowly, you stroke his hair back from the wound and line the bandaid up. He shivers under your nails. 
“So sorry,” you say, laughing under your breath, “it’s my nails, huh?” 
“It’s okay.” 
“You’re a great patient, Spencer. I’d give you a sticker if I could, I’m not kidding.” 
“You’re a great nurse.” 
“Thank you.” You smooth the edges of the bandaid down for good measure and step away from him to assess him. “How’s that migraine?” 
“Getting worse.” 
“You have them often, you said? Treated or untreated?” 
“Psychosomatic, apparently.” 
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Has your doctor talked to you about CBT?” 
“Some. I don’t really… want it,” he says awkwardly. 
“That’s okay. If it’s psychosomatic as they believe, it might get better with time. How’s the stress in your life?”
“Stressful.” 
“It must be hard, the FBI, everything. Life is hard enough. Stopping serial killers must weigh on your heart.” You smile carefully. “Was there anything else you wanted to bring to my attention? Any other injury, anything that needs urgent care?” 
“I was mostly worried I had a concussion.” 
“It doesn’t seem like it. You’re not nauseous, are you?” 
“No, I don’t think so.” 
He gets this awful, sad look on his face, it really isn’t nice to see. People come in by themselves all the time but it never gets easier to handle. 
“Are you alright?” you ask, taking his arm into your hand. 
“I’m fine.” 
He had the look of someone who’s always fine. Luckily for him, it’s your job to take care of people, to make sure they’re more than fine. “Okay. I’m gonna get you something warm to drink. Do you like donuts?” 
“Uh–”
“I’m getting a feeling about you. Chocolate frosting, I bet.” 
He smiles, startled and pleased at once. “Yeah.” 
“Okay, I’m gonna get those for you. A drink, a donut, and some much needed Tylenol. You can lay down if you like.” 
He nods but doesn’t move. 
As you’re leaving the room, you cross paths with a handsome man with dark skin and a bright smile. Must be something in the air today, you think. 
“Reid, you okay?” you hear him say. 
“Fine.” 
“You’re pink.” 
“What?” 
“You’re blushing. Oh, you had the pretty nurse, didn’t you?” 
“Shut up,” Spencer whispers sharply. 
“You can ask for her number.” 
“No I can’t, she’s working.” 
“But you want to,” his friend surmises. 
You bite down a smile, giving your head a shake as you go. You need to get a move on. Spencer needs a hot drink, a donut, Tylenol, and a pen. It should be okay if you’re both feeling up to it, right?
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nuggetpool-hi · 1 day ago
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Guess who watched X-Men origins again
OK SO I got THOUGHTS of this movie but specially Wade's fight style because it's really similar to our current Deadpool's fighting style... so yeah I wanna yap about that hi
WELL FIRST OF wanna talk a lil about Victor, Logan and Wade's different styles... from a mortal's view point I am no expert on this just insane about these movies and I need to write my thoughts or i'll explode
Starting with Victor!! the ultimate kittycat girlypop
I love his kitty self I'm sorry ANYWAY EXAMPLES
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OKAY SO VICTOR. Victor's style is obviously very animalistic but also stylized, he makes the fight a show for himself! He likes to hunt and he tries to always give chase or play around a bit before the kill, just like a cat playing with his food!
AND IF you pay attention to the start of the movie, this game he's got with his target isn't initially how he fought, he kinda developed it as the years went by and the eviler he got the more he played with his food. The first few wars he goes to he's fighting like a human soldier, then you can see him slip up some animal jumps and uses his claws more until at the end he's full on predator chasing his prey (just like when he captures Scott, my god I love that scene he's terryfing)
AND A BIG DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HIM AND LOGAN (that I will also talk about later I guess) is that with this play thing Victor has going on it SHOWS that he THINKS about the stragety when fighting, he's aware of his surroundings and his target's strenghs and weaknesses, he's good at coming up with solutions on the spot (see his fight with John, he can predict where he's going to teleport and catch him) and how to give a good chase without losing WHILE LOGAN WELL, at least in this movie he seems very lost when fighting?? he mostly just launches at his target and attacks, if the target runs away he chases, very animalistic but in a feral-based on instincts way... prolly why he coulnt win agaisnt Victor at first, because he was being blinded by his rage while Victor was quite literally playing with him lmao
ANYWAY LOGAN our favorite traumatized babygirl
and boy does he suffer in this one aughh EXAMPLES
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Now you must be wondering why did I put the bathroom scene, well I feel like it represents Logan's general situation pretty well! (and its silly let me be), hes confused destroying everything and just keeps making it worse every time he tries to fix it.
The thing about Logan in this movie is that he's honestly just- confused and angry from the moment he killed his father, he runs away over and over again from EVERYTHING and he's constantly being manipulated BY EVERYONE!! Poor man has no idea what to do with himself of who he can actually trust but damn he tries, his enviroment is contantly changing and he's trying his best to adapt but he does it in a messy way.
The way he fights and acts in general is animalistic, yes, but more of the "scared dog attacks" kind of way, he's always acting on his instinct that it's mostly led by anger. When he fights he just throws himself and tries to slash whatever he can, he runs he hides and then when he gets the chance to he attacks again.
He constantly has little to no control of the situtation WHICH IS SPECIALLY SEEN pre-adamantium where he keeps losing to Victor because unlike him- he has no plan, he's being manipulated and kept blind of everything ON PURPOUSE which obviouly puts him in a disadvantage so yeah.
AFTER he gets the adamantium you can see his skills strengen with his knowledge, the more he lears about his situation the more focused he is and his fighting it's cleaner, he still moslty just launches himself head first into fights BUT he's not running away, he's able to evaluate his situation and adapt (See his fight with Gambit, he looks at him when running away and then destroys the stair so Gambit can't run away OR with Deadpool where he decides to gain height as a way to create the space needed to evaluate his enemy?? that one might be a lil bit of a stretch tho)
WADE WILSON THE ULTIMATE CUTIE PRINCESS
let's ignore how dirty they did him ok...
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OKAY SO SADLY- The bullet scene is pretty much the only scene where we see him fight and it's honestly not enough to tell how his normal style is BUT I WILL SAY his general style is fancy to look at and scarily effective (which is mostly seen with our current Wade but you can see a bit in origins deadpool) he makes a show for everyone to see, which is also his stragedy to make himself even better at combat! He uses a lot of fancy movements and acrobatics that help him AND takes his enemies off-guard, confusing them as where they should attack or what he's going to hit?? anyway-
Comparison time yippieee THIS IS WHAT THIS POST IS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT LMAO
I did not get side tracked idk what you mean.... and now seeing it over and over I'm realizing not that noticeable.... so it's just not that much to talk about oops
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LOOK AT THIS WADE, LOOK AT THE MOVEMENTS HE DOES WITH HIS LEGS!! HIS HANDS??? THIS MAN IS SHOWING OFF he's using all kinds of acrobatics and fancy movements while fighting, he attacks with his hands and dodges using mostly his legs, he's using all he has!! and it's making Logan lose BECAUSE LOGAN CAN'T FOCUS!! specially since he's so "target locked will attack", Wade makes it SO HARD for him to focus on a pose long enough to actually stab him also Logan ain't too good at dodging, I'm guessing it could be because he heals? dunno
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now what inmediately came to my mind upon rewatch was THIS scene (maybe because I saw it recently who knows)
THE SETTING IS SO SIMILAR!! Wade is using a lot of fancy movements to get up, dodge and attack all way too fast for Logan to process, once again Logan is looking everywhere confused about where to aim bc this silly red guy it's dancing on his face and he's struggling to keep up JUST LIKE IN ORIGINS except well he IS able to get a hit bahah
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Dodges like crazy, jumps over Logan (he did in origins too) just moves a lot between every attack
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Actually now that I think about it Wade feels a bit less effective in the car, like yes sure he's putting up a good fight but Logan still feels like he's leading it BECAUSE WADE IS MORE EFFECTIVE WHEN HE HAS MORE SPACE!! he likes to be able to move around and do gimnastics while Logan it's a lot better the closer he gets to his target so omg yeah... ALSO LIKE WADE STILL TRIES TO MOVE AROUND he shoves Logan away from him, he gets out of the car choking logan with a seatbelt and gets to the back, he tries to create space because that's where his speciality WHILE LOGAN keeps trying to get closer to have him in his power, which he gets to do since the car isn't allowing Wade to move as freely as he would want to...
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AND YOU CAN SEE HIS FANCY MOVEMENTS WITH FRANCIS TOO he's constantly circuling him, dodging and spinning while Francis is just trying to get a hit, Wade keeps his enemies chasing him when he fight THAT'S the way he controls it and gets it wherever he wants aughh
ANYWAY YEAH I think that's it, don't really know how much sense any of this does since I've been writing it on-and off the whole day lmao it's so messy but yeah feel free to add onto it I'd love to see opinions on this wahoo
Might keep talking about stuff I find interesting in the movies bahah this has been funn
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thatneoncrisis · 3 days ago
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Sorry to keep dragging you through Arcane hell (the new season is... oof) but I am curious what your thoughts on silco are? Realising more and more that silco and sevika are the only part of the show I gave a fuck about and my love of season one was really just those two.
i keep putting things under a readmore so if ppl dont want to see me go "damn this was good i wish it was better" they dont have to
i think silco on paper has potential to be one of my favorite characters on the show, and barring that at least one of the most layered and well crafted. his and vanders dynamic is by no means unique, its very professor x and magneto, which is already something i can take or leave. "oh we were childhood friends and allies fighting for a better future but one of us got soft while the other became hardned and radicalized" the narrative of the terrorist freedom fighter, one corrupted by power is done a Lot bc of a general apprehension in shows like this to endorse violence on the behalf of the oppressed class BUT i think his relationship with jinx was a good addition and if like one or two changes were made it could have been some of the best the show has to offer
for the sake of this post, im going to ignore the reveal that silco knew jinxs mother before her death i think that was dumb and bad. essentially, the show begins with silco and vander at odds- they both are doing what they believe needs to be done in order to secure zauns future, and both of them are ultimatrly hurting zauns people; silco is flooding the streets with shimmer and vander is working with enforcers. silco is primarily motivated by power, but vander is motivated by his love for his kids, this is the only way he has even the slightest assurance that he can keep them from run ins with the law, a law that has a precedent for tossing children in maximum sexurity prisons.
vanders death and silcos subsequent acqusition of jinx flips the coin. there is now something in his life to love, to protect, to care for. he is falling into the same behavior that vander was, even if he is far worse at it bc hes a terrible father whos also a drug lord and just kind of lets his unstable daughter sit in a. ave and build bombs all day. hes not *good* but he *cares* evidenced by him literally needing to be sedated when jinx gets surgery so he didnt flip the fuck out
in a straightforward narrative, this is a story about a man having to choose between his daughter and his passion project. zaun is something he has given his life for, hed do anything to have it succeed... except one thing. that one thing. "there is nothing so undoing as a daughter" is probably one of my favorite lines in the show. i really do wish we had gotten More of them, especially at the beginning when she was a baby and silco doesnt really know what to do with her, which brings me to my next bit-
i think sevika is an indespensible part of the triangle of silco and jinx triangle. i find her position interesting as she is not only second in command, but second to jinx, a literal child. she can be the best right hand man a guy could ask for, she is so dedicated to his cause she betrayed vander, she has given her life and limb for this shit. but she will never be jinx. and i think the conversation of like, how far will silco go before he is forced to choose is kind of awesome. the ultimatum jayce gives him is good it is the breaking point of him trying to do both. he is directly responsible for the "monster" piltover is hunting, he didnt try to keep her in line, he let her do whatever she wanted and he is now directly reaping the consequences. frankly, i think sevika should have been present for that choice in some capacity, eavesdropping or something, so certain that hell make the right choice, its just a girl. and she sees him falter. him not choosing is a choice, he cannot actually make the sacrifices required to get shit done. hed orphan a thousand children to build his utopia, but he cant let go of his girl
anyway all of that was really cool and interesting so you imagine my frustration when his choice is taken from him via jinx flipping out, kidnapping him then shooting him. it was so. anticlimatic. it *feels* like its supposed to be a tragedy, oh she assumes the worst when he was actually going to choose her, but those conclusions feel too. private. like he dies with basically no one knowing he was this close to selling zaun up a river for his girl. i dont think he should have died i think he should have been disgraced for daring to have it all. anyway i think instead of jinx overhearing him talk outloud and coming to the wrong conclusion sevika should have deliberately led her there 1. to piss her off on purpose and 2. prove a point to silco that jinx is unstable and a liability, but not assume shed go far enough to kill him, bc they both still care about him.
overall any of my issues with how his story goes is just a combination of my distaste for that particular archetype, where he is so incredibly comically evil i cannot take a single one of his points seriously even though they Are correct (killmonger. its just killmonger again) and the show just once again not having time for anything with him that is not The Plot. the fondness he has for jinx is apparent i just wish it could COOK longer i wanted MORE, i wanted to see him foster that love of inventing in her, even though it is clearly just because the weapons she makes are helpful to his cause, i want to see her genuinely give input on his ideas, i want to see them talk about vander. his human elements are like too sparse for me to latch on to its like the Idea of them, i go oh i see what you guys are Trying to do. there is too little of him i see him cooing over his daughter then going back to his crack cocaine mines staffed by orphan children and i ask does the show jave anything to say about this cognative dissonance? no? i find it really telling that one chem baron was pissed at the enforcers for her son dying, and yes they were Definitely a factor but WHY DO YOU HAVE YOUR SON WORKING IN THE CRACK COCAINE MINES MAAM. YOU WERE KIND OF ASKING FOR IT. theres no like, conversation about what the corrupting influences of power does to the next generation even when the best of intentions are had. jinx constantly taking shimmer in season 2 for power ups, a direct product of her fathers worst tendancies, and it having NO ill effects on her, shes not reduced to the animalistic state of the drug addicts we are CONSTANTLY seeing on the streets bc. why. is she built different. the metaphor is RIGHT THERE her father/shimmer enable her but they are also killing her from the inside mein GOTT.
also the first time i watched this show i kept confusing him with viktor lol
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eydilily · 1 day ago
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🌿🐻👻🍅 finally a semi proper pinned post :3c
🧸 heidi / eydi , 24, they/them, aroace spec
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🌿 #eydidraws (finished art), #my art (all art related), #misc (sketches, wips) 🌿 #mcyt (all), #hc (hermitcraft related), #trafficblr (life series related), #skz
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🌿🐻👻🍅
hello there! I'm heidi and im a freelance digital artist! o7 i find talking in general extremely difficult so i must ask you to please be patient with me🙏
feel free to use my art for non commercial purposes, as long as you credit me (or tag me! I'd love to see it)
brushes / process :'D
🍅 fandom things:
i mostly draw for whatever im interested in at the moment! which happens to be. like 2 things.
Hermitcraft / Life Series (mains) - Tango 💗, Pearl, Gem, Mumbo Stray Kids - Lee Know 💗, Jisung, Chan
ummm i got into hermitcraft sometime mid s10 so im relatively new here! sorry if i get things wrong :')
obligatory disclaimer, all of my stuff are for fun!
there will be #hermitshipping / #trafficshipping on my blog . all my rbs are untagged so beware!
i am also an adult so . maybe some suggestive / nsfw things but ill definitely tag those appropriately :)
im a multishipper and i like all ships! casual polyhermit or whatever :D also also alternatively i just see all of them as platonic . whichever im feeling on the day they all just love each other to some degree in my head lmao
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catholicfacade · 2 days ago
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WIP PREVIEW
pairing: joost klein x f! reader, joost klein x f! OC
word count: 3,572
synopsis: Joost Klein accidentally meets the love of his life through a tik tok. Valentine. She’s his complete opposite; quiet, reserved, and a bit cold, whereas Joost is bright, bubbly, and extremely outgoing, almost obnoxiously so. But opposites attract and the art of balance is delicate. Getting to know each other without interference proves difficult at first, but the minute Joost and Valentine realize their pining is mutual it’s full speed ahead for the two of them. Like puzzle pieces, they become inseparable, fitted together like it’s always meant to be. Everyone around them is convinced no two people in the world love each other as much as Joost and Valentine do. But Joost’s growing fame sends him down an unexpected spiral, one Valentine is desperate to pull him out of. It changes everything. The two who were once attached at the hip learn to no longer even speak each others names, desperately still in love, but the damage is unbearable. If only the puzzle pieces can come together again to realize just how perfect they are for each other.
authors note: tagging this as both x reader and x OC because this is written in 3rd person POV, i find writing 2nd person difficult for me because i just tend to write “reader” as self-insert, and i know i am a VERY specific type of person 😅 soooooo lowkey self-ship??? but i think it’s best to just make reader an OC and you can simply swap out her name, pronouns, and traits for your own when it’s necessary. and so i would say Valentine [who i named after my own last name, this is just the name i use for ALL my protagonists in my writing actually😅], she’s implied to be autistic/neurodivergent and generally just socially awkward, quiet, introverted. again, self-insert. she is also goth. i always write protagonists with really heavy, angsty, traumatic backstories so i think that’s also why i turn readers into OC’s because i don’t want to force a traumatic past upon you as reader 😭 there is also “April”, who is a second OC i made for this series, she is Valentines best friend who owns her own alternative clothing company and is very important to the story along the way:))
content: RPF, awkwardness, slow burn, pining, yearning, hint of angst, mention alcohol consumption, masturbation, kissing, fantasizing
!!18+ & RPF, DO NOT REPOST OR INTERACT IF RPF MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!!
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how it started:
At 12pm on the dot, two people walk in, Valentine greets them smiling, “Hallo! Hoe gaat het?” [Hello! How are you?] Her Dutch is limited but she tries her best.
“Hallo, is April hier?” [Hello, is April here?] The girl with dark curly hair asks as she approaches, she’s followed by what Valentine assumes to be her boyfriend.
“Nee, maar kan ik jullie helpen?” [No, but can I help you?] Val offers them a gentle smile, unsure if her Dutch is even grammatically correct or not.
“Oh-“ The girls eyebrows shoot up, “You’re Valentine, right?” She suddenly switches to English, Valentine is simultaneously embarrassed but also thankful for the switch.
A blush rises on her cheeks as she nods, “Yeah that’s me, sorry about my Dutch.” She waves her hand apologetically.
“I’m Alanis, and this is Apson.” Alanis smiles and holds her hand out and so does Apson. Val shakes their hands, “Nice to meet you guys, you wanted to film in the store right?”
“Ja, just a little skit about being emo. I wanna seem like a guy who is a total poser and then run out of the store crying when I get called out.” Apson said, maybe blushing a little from having to explain his stupid bit.
It made Valentine chuckle though, “Do whatever you gotta do, man! April told me you have permission from her already so you’re good to do your thing.”
“Thanks,” Apson and Alanis said in unison, which made them giggle at each other.
“Can I borrow some clothes?” Apson said looking around.
“Sure,” Val nodded, “Let me open the changing room for you.” She grabbed the keys and unlocked the changing room at the back of the store as Appie and Alanis brainstormed what the character should be wearing. They ended up picking out a stereotypical e-boy outfit, a black and white striped long-sleeve shirt, a Metallica t-shirt to go on top, some fingerless skeleton gloves, baggy Tripp pants, and a studded belt.
Appie went into the changing room a few minutes later to get ready, leaving Valentine and Alanis outside together.
“How long have you worked here? It feels weird we haven’t seen you around yet, we’re in here all the time it feels like.” Alanis asked, tilting her head slightly to examine Valentine.
“Not long, only a month now. I think we must’ve just narrowly avoided each other this whole time.” Valentine chuckles and Alanis nods in agreement.
“How long have you known April then?” Valentine asks Alanis.
“I got one piece of jewelry here like a year ago,” Alanis shows Val her gemstone necklace, “And now I get all my jewelry from here, look!” Alanis smiles, showing a few silver rings on her fingers and a beaded bracelet.
“Oh, is that moonstone?” Valentine asks excitedly.
“Yeah! Isn’t it so pretty?” Alanis moves the beads around so they flash their colors brightly in Valentines eyes.
“I love it, and it goes perfectly with your outfit!” She said and Alanis thanks her, “My favorite gemstone is—“
“Done!” Apson calls out suddenly, making both of the girls turn, he looks a bit ridiculous, but that’s the point. The pants are definitely a size too big and the belt definitely isn’t helping because they are practically hanging off of his body.
“Let me put some eyeshadow on you.” Alanis mumbles as she approaches Appie, she looks through her bag until she finds the small compact, taking it out to apply the black shadow loosely around Apson’s eyes. He ends up just looking more tired than emo, but again, it must be what works for the skit.
Val just watches from afar with an amused smile on her face, she likes them, Appie and Alanis, they seem like good people. There’s some footsteps behind her and she turns to see a few customers coming in, “Goedendag!” [Good day!] She greets them, they say it back before looking around at some of the shelves at the front of the store. Valentine returns to her earlier work, stitching by hand some stars onto the corner of a skirt.
“Okay, like this—“ Appie talks Alanis through the scene first, he’s speaking Dutch again so Val can’t pick up most of what he’s saying, he’s just gesturing for how and where Alanis should hold the camera when they go to film. He’s quietly rehearsing the lines with her when he perks up a bit, “Wait…Valentine?”
Val looks over at Appie, “Do you mind saying a line for the tik tok? Just the one about me being a poser?”
She grows a bit nervous, “Oh uhhh…I’m probably not very good at acting… I don’t really post on tik tok like that…” She rubs the back of her neck and looks between Apson and Alanis awkwardly.
“Don’t worry, you just gotta go like ‘ew, fucking poser’ and that’s it!” Apson gives the line a little scoff and a little attitude to it. He grins at her, clearly enthused with his new idea.
“Okay…” Val agrees weakly, coming around the counter to stand by Alanis’ side.
“Okay so like this,” Apson says, rerunning through his lines once more while Alanis practices getting the best angles for the tik tok, “And then camera turns, and you say…?”
Alanis turns the camera on Valentine, who scoffs while looking at Appie, “Such a fucking poser…” She says with all the vitriol she can muster.
“Perfect!” Appie shoots her two thumbs up as Alanis turns the camera back on him, “Then, I’ll begin to cry like this, wahhhh!” Appie cries exaggeratedly, then turns and takes a few steps towards the door. “Then I’ll run outside and that’s it, got it?”
“Got it.” Val and Alanis both say.
The three of them get into position, Appie with his back to the door, standing amongst all the clothes, Alanis starting the recording on her phone, and Valentine just off to side, waiting to deliver her line.
“Aaaaaand action!” Apson claps loudly. Alanis zooms in quickly to Appies face, he’s slouching, neck bent at an awkward angle to seem more depressed, the face he’s making makes him look dead inside, it’s exaggerated by the deep black makeup Alanis brushed around his eyes.
“Ik ben zooooo emo….” [I am soooo emo] Apson delivered the line as flatly as he could, adding a bit of a vocal fry to the ‘zoooo’. Alanis snaps the camera back to show his full outfit before zooming in on his face again for the next line, “Ik ben zoooooo depressief…” [I am sooo depressed]
Valentine held back her laughter, perhaps it wasn’t exactly her type of humor, but it was fun to watch!
Apson gave a big eyeroll to the camera, then looked into it, “Niemand zal mij ooit begrijpen…” [No one will ever understand me]
He suddenly grunts loudly, his expression growing more angry, “Ik zit de hele dag op mijn kamer naar muziek te luisteren, niemand begrijpt het!” [I sit in my room and listen to music all day, no one understands!] He yells.
The camera whips around to Valentine, she puts a disgusted look on her face and scoffs like she did the first time, “Such a fucking poser.” She shakes her head lightly.
Alanis whips the camera back around to Apson, he looks like he’s about to scream, “NEEEE!” He bursts into faux tears, and suddenly he turns to run out of the store. Alanis follows, and they pass the customers Valentine had completely forgotten were even in here! They seem completely and utterly confused and Val feels a little bad for them.
As Appie and Alanis cross the threshold onto the street, still filming, Appie still making wailing noises, he trips on his baggy pants and falls. Valentine gasps, Alanis keeps filming, and someone nearly hits Apson on the ground with their bike.
“Ik ben geen poser!” [I am not a poser!] Apson yells his final line, sobbing crying, clutching his elbow, and Alanis stops recording. She helps him up, they’re laughing as they walk back inside but it seems Appie actually got hurt.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Valentine comes up to them, slightly stunned but also laughing.
“I’m okay,” Appie nods, then turns to the people at the front of the store who are just frozen in shock, “I’m okay!” He waves at them, and they slowly return to what they were looking at in abject horror.
“You’re bleeding a little,” Val frowns when she sees Apsons elbow, “Here, I’ve got a bandaid in my purse.” She moves over to the counter again, opening her bag and pulling out a bandaid for him.
Alanis takes it from her and opens it, “Thanks Valentine.” Appie says warmly.
“You’re welcome.” She smiles.
“I think I should pay for the shirt,” He says while wincing as Alanis applies the bandage to his broken skin, “Pretty sure I got blood on it.”
“Probably a good idea,” Valentine agrees, “April said you could film in the store, not bleed all over her products.”
“Want anything while we’re here, babe?” Apson asks Alanis, who brightens up immediately at the idea of getting herself a little something. “I’ll go get changed while you pick something out.” He says and walks into the changing room to get back into his clothes.
“Can I see your rings, please?” Alanis asks Valentine brightly.
“Of course!” She unlocks the jewelry case behind the counter and pulls out the rack of rings for Alanis to inspect. She picks up one and tries it on, examining her hand afterwards.
“So when will that video get posted?” Val asks.
“I think Appie will post it on Friday.” She studies the ring on her finger before putting it back and picking up another one. “We should be mutuals!”
“I’d like that,” Valentine grins at Alanis and pulls out her phone, opening tik tok and handing her phone to her. Alanis lets her follow both her and Apsons accounts, Val asks to be mutuals on instagram too.
“There!” Alanis says while handing Val’s phone back to her, “You can message me whenever you want to.”
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how it’s going:
The sun shines bright outside of Joosts window, he stirs back and forth for a few minutes before finally opening his eyes. The first thing he sees is his Stitch plushie sitting on the other side of the bed, staring at him. He reaches out and grabs it, bringing it to his chest and squeezes it in a bear hug.
“Goedenmorgen.” Joost grumbles while stretching, his head hurts slightly from a long night of drinking but mostly from the way the sun won’t leave his face.
He rolls over onto his back, picking up Stitch again, he stares at the plush toy for a while with his tired eyes, wondering if he’s weird for talking to it or cuddling with it every night. Wondering if that even matters at all. Wondering if it secretly means something about how lonely he is.
But Joost would do anything not to think about that subject, so he tosses Stitch aside and grabs his phone from the nightstand. It’s already passed 2pm and he’s missed at least 15 text messages between his friends.
Stuntje: “You coming out tonight again?” Stuntje: “Bro? U good?”
Tantu: “Beat coming along nicely👍” *1 image attatched*
Apson: “Made a banger post on tik tok! 😂” Apson: “Please leave me a like boys, I bled for this one! 💀” -tap to see more notifications-
Joost sighs through his nose, opening the tik tok app, his therapist has been trying to get him to stay off tik tok first thing in morning but he can’t help it, especially not when his best friend just posted. It’s also not technically morning anymore.
He watches the funny dog video that pops up on his FYP first, liking it and scrolling to the next video. It’s some level 99 brain-rot meme about skibbity rizz in Ohio, he chuckles and leaves a like before scrolling. The next video is an ad and he instantly scrolls. Apsons video finally pops up:
@ apsonarmy posted 1hr. tagged: @ v4lent1ne @ aprilsclosetNL
emos be like 😂💔💀🤘 #emo #poser 10k likes
202 comments
1k shares
There’s big text on the top of the screen that says “EMOS BE LIKE 🧛”, and there’s Apson, fully looking like an e-boy, pretending to be moody and mysterious.
“Ik ben zooooo emo….”
Joost smiles, immediately liking the post. He watches his friend act on screen as the video plays, chuckling as his friends line delivery keeps getting more and more over-the-top with each sentence. And then the camera pans and he sees this girl on screen, she’s wearing tight, leather, flared pants, a grommet belt with a silver star belt buckle, a cute little cropped graphic tee that shows off her midriff, and some silver chains hanging around her neck.
“Such a fucking poser.” She sneers, her voice ablaze with attitude.
Joosts eyebrows shoot up, she has the most beautifully sharp eyes he’s ever seen, and this head full of thick, fiery hair, glossy lips, and gorgeous makeup. She was undeniable, whoever she was. The type of beauty that would end up in every magazines “Top 100 Most Beautiful Women Of All Time” list—No, Top 50, maybe even Top 10. And yet as soon as she was on screen, she was off. The camera points back at Apson’s dramatic reaction. Joost watches as the chaos unfolds when Apson begins running, trips, falls, nearly gets hit by a bike, screams “no” while lying on the streets of Amsterdam, and clutches his bleeding arm.
The video loops…and Joost watches it again. And again. And again. He’s actually not sure how many times he lets it play before the low battery notification snaps him out of his daze. He quickly taps it away, using his thumb to scroll back to the part where the girl calls Appie a poser. He pauses the video when her face is fully in frame and clears the tik tok display. She was breathtaking—literally, Joost was unintentionally holding his breath. He sat there enamored for a while, then brought the display back, checking the “tagged” portion of the caption to see her there, @ v4lent1ne.
Joost clicks on her profile so fast, just to be severely let down when he sees she only has one video available on her profile. He reads her bio;
“Valentine, 27, Designer, Amsterdam.”
221 32 101 Following Followers Likes
Followed by a link to the April’s Closet website. She hadn’t bothered to link her instagram to her tik tok. He clicks on the video, it’s just a cute little tik tok of her lip syncing to Korn in a nice outfit and beautiful trad-goth makeup, the date says it’s almost a year old. She doesn’t seem to have as much of that spark within her as she did in Appies video, maybe it’s because she was just acting for that, but she looked thinner in this old tik tok, maybe more tired somehow. He scrolled away once it looped.
“Valentine…” Joost sighed out loud, letting the name roll off his tongue while admiring her in her tiny profile picture. He went back to Appie’s video and opened up the comments, typing out “I agree, bros not emo, bros a POSER 🤣😂👍🔥” He immediately liked his own comment upon sending it.
Joost realized it was suddenly stiflingly hot under his blanket and that damn sun was still shining brightly on his face. He tossed the blanket off of him, letting the cool air of his room hit his skin, he looked down and saw he was half hard. “Shit…” Joost groaned.
He hopped out of bed and headed into the bathroom, he caught his own gaze in the mirror, messy bedhead, stubble growing in, dirty blonde roots showing through his bleached hair. A mess. But nothing a good shave and shower couldn’t fix.
Joost turned the faucet on in the shower, letting the water run for a minute while stepping out of yesterday’s boxers. His cock sprung free, hanging somewhere between half limp and nearly hard. His pink tip was blushing at him, begging him to give it a little attention. It’s been a week since he last jerked off anyway, might as well take care of it, Joost thought as stepped under the warm water.
He let the water run down his body, rinsing away yesterday’s sweat from the bar, yesterday’s arguments with festival bookings, yesterday’s dull thoughts that kept him numb and unhappy. All that mattered right now was his pretty dick perking up under the warmth of the water and what he was going to do with it.
Joost ran his fingers through his pubic hair, scratching lighting at the forest of hair there, slowly moving down to squeeze it at the base. He had no intentions of teasing himself today, but he couldn’t think of anything worth fantasizing about just yet. Perhaps a familiar pair of lips came to mind but he quickly stubbed out that thought. Too fresh. It was one video. He shouldn’t.
But as Joost slowly pumped his fist around his length, his mind kept wandering back to those same features, he couldn’t help but picture her—Valentine, apparently—gazing at him, watching him jerk off. Her eyes squinted at him, watching him jerk his cock faster now at the thought of her, she’d sneer at him the same way she did in Appie’s video.
“What a loser…jerking off to some random girl you just found on the internet? Pathetic.” He pictured her saying.
Joost wondered what her skin would feel like, what her skin would smell like—he stopped touching himself and pumped some body wash into his hand and lathered it on his cock, careful not to get any inside. The smell was obviously familiar to him, masculine and clean and filled the steam around him with its scent. It would do for now. He could picture Valentine smelling like this as he closed his eyes. He pictured himself standing in front of her, nude, while she was in that same outfit from Appie’s tik tok. He approached her, towering over her, though he couldn’t possibly know how tall she is, he looked down at her and her eyes flicked to his lips.
It’s barely even a lewd fantasy but Joost is stroking himself so fucking fast to it, the soap forming slippery suds under his hand with every long pump he takes. He wants to lean in and kiss her neck, right against her pulse, fuck—he can feel his own pulse in his cock right now. Valentine’s would match his. He cups her jaw and sticks his thumb in her mouth, she gladly suckles on it, it makes him moan out loud, “Fuuuck-“
Valentine sinks, slowly, so slowly, to her knees and looks into Joosts eyes. Joost is massaging the head of his dick now, he’s so close to cumming, just needs a little more. In his mind she takes him into her soft hand, enjoying the weight and warmth of him in her palm. And finally, she leans in to capture his tip between her gorgeous lips. Those fucking lips. With that, Joost is moaning and stroking himself so fast he is coming undone. His white ropes hit the bottom of the shower and get slowly washed away into the drain. He fucks into his fist, mind erratically imagining Valentine in a number of situations as Joost cums. Rapid flashing of doggy style, cowgirl, her tits covered in his cum, she’s just as breathless and red in the face as he is!
He uses his other hand to prop himself up against the wall, panting as the last beads of cum roll down his reddened tip. Breathlessly, Joost returns to reality, he drops his cock from his hand and lets the water beat against body. He’s less tense that’s for sure, but there’s a weird sense of guilt about it, Joost promises himself to never fantasize about her again. And he doesn’t. At least not while jerking off.
The first few days after Appie posted the tik tok, Joost would sometimes go back and watch it, but after a week, he became too busy. He forced Valentine out of his head. The weird, unfinished picture of her he created would still materialize from time to time, but she altogether slipped from his mind as the weeks and even months had gone by.
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how its going to go:
“Fuck,” Joost pants looking down at V, her lips are swollen and wet with their combined spit as Joost had all but swallowed her whole, the flavor of her grape lip gloss coating his tongue. Joost’s cock twitches in his boxers, “You know, the first time I saw you in Appie’s video you gave me a boner?”
Val lets out a strained laugh from her breathlessness, “Really?” Her fingers reach up to trace his mustache, the pads of her fingers barely grazing the skin of his lips. It feels like the touch of an angel.
“Ja.” Joost nods, still staring, kissing at her fingertips.
A low, erotic hum emanates from her chest, “I guess it was meant to be then.”
Something flashes in Joosts eyes when she says that, something so deep, it was like watching his brain chemistry change in real time. “You were made for me…” He whispers before dipping his head into the crook of V’s neck and teething a hard bite into her soft skin.
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[more coming soon ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜] -ego⋆♱✮
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manatee-rp-memes · 3 days ago
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Transformers: MTMTE Sentence Starters
~Feel free to tweak as needed~
“All good things must come to an end, if there’s one thing in life I’ve learned it’s how to say goodbye and mean it.”
“You think that just because the war is over, we can afford to stop fighting!“
“Okay, so tell me what happened–– In layman’s terms, please. The fewer syllables, the better. Science makes me twitchy. Too many rules.”
“Never stand next to a quantum generator when it’s about to flout the laws of physics.“
“So, who broke the rule?”
“I’m too smart to die!”
“Either it’s very far away, or you’ve invented the world’s smallest drink.”
“Don’t say I’m irritable. It really—it really irritates me.”
“One day you’ll say something nice to me—just before you tell me I’ve got a terminal illness or something.“
“Bottom line? I’ve got nothing else to lose.”
“Wow. If I’d known that was the best you’ve got, I’d have said something genuinely offensive.”
“Nice to meet you, loser!”
“But there’s always been a war! That’s like saying there’s no more blue or—or the weather’s stopped!”
“Nothing tingles like a teleport.”
“I was aiming for the other guy…! Obviously.”
“A senseless waste, a terrible tragedy. Boo hoo.”
“He promptly beat me to the brink of fade-out and left me in a critical condition.”
“But that’s a whole other story. Sorry—I always wanted to say that. That, and ‘Impossible! Our laserfire is just making him stronger!’ Ahem. Go on…”
“Please! I surrender! Don’t shoot!”
“MUTINY! Everywhere I look I see rules being stretched and laws being broken and protocols being dragged outside and kicked to death.”
“Maybe I have been taking things too seriously. Maybe I should try and… and… whatever. There’s a word for it.”
“Course I didn’t press it… but what if I had pressed it?”
“A metafictional bomb. It blows a hole in the fourth wall.”
“I can tell you pretty emphatically that none of this – none of this even approaches my definition of ‘okay’!"
"Listen to me. NEVER. HOPE. Hope is a lie.”
“That was a nasty fall. Need a hand?”
“Get the hell out of my bar.”
“Ah, enriched nucleon…! The magic ingredient!”
"You should really stop and listen to yourself sometimes.”
“Life’s messed up. I’m messed up. I’ve done bad things and I continue to do bad things, because the voice telling me not to…? He’s not said much for a while. And y'know what keeps me going? ANGER. Anger’s an insulator. Stops life getting too close. If I got myself 'fixed,' maybe the anger would leave me—and then I really would be screwed.“
"Your life is in the palm of my hand. Before I squeeze, I offer up one last shining truth…”
“If God were on your side you’d have stopped me by now! Will anybody pit their faith against mine?”
“I know, I know—I’m incorrigible.”
“Honestly? I think for an intuitive weapon to promote long discredited notions of moral absolutism is problematic in the extreme.”
“When did you first decide that the universe needed ‘dominating’?"
"My life is a succession of decisions made in confined spaces.”
“If you want to get the measure of an author, don’t look at what they’ve left on the page…. look at what they’ve taken away.”
“Information carries weight. It’s not corporeal, but it has presence. It can be felt. It hangs in the air like—like words. Like the morning after an argument! Actually, not like that. That’s a bad analogy. I’m distracted.”
“Shut up. Stop expecting things of me.”
“The war is over and, thankfully, we lost.”
“I’m confronting my own mortality! I’m having one of those—those existential crisises!”
“'Could!' The luxury of 'could!' I’m already dead!”
“If I sit next to you too long, am I going to die of smartass poisoning?”
“There’s a thin line between categorization and segregation, and I never want to see it crossed again.”
“If the world thinks you’re a monster, what does it matter? The world is wrong. But when you start to think of yourself as a monster…”
“Touch me again and I’ll kill you.”
“Here’s a survival tip: When everyone’s lining up to make sacrifices… always get to the back of the queue.”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret… I can do whatever the hell I like.”
“Maladies of the mind are easily hidden. We don’t want to see them. They remind us of our fragility.”
“You have two weapons at your disposal: your brain and your fists. You must be prepared to use both.”
"I’m fine. Bad dream, that’s all. My first flashback. These things’ll happen when you’ve got a head full of history.”
“This conversation is ridiculous. You are ridiculous. Everything that’s happened in the last few days is intensely ridiculous.”
“We’re all of us the sum of our experiences.”
“I know who I am, but I don’t necessarily know who I was. I find it hard to compare the two.”
“I want to tell you a story.”
“I’m trying to show concern. I’ve seen other people do it.”
“People don’t like me – they just laugh at my jokes. There’s a difference.”
“I hate you. As in, I actively hate you. I am in hate with you.”
“No one cares what you have to say~”
“I had a plan! Same plan as always: survive.”
“I order you to survive.”
“Nothing makes sense anymore.”
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nolongerapileofashprobably · 5 months ago
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Something I truly love about the Champion’s Ballad is the fight against the blights, as the champions of old. Link has their people’s armor on, he has their weapon and a limited supply of food and additional items. It is NOT the way Link fights them. To make it better I wish Link only had access to the respective champion’s powers, rather than all (bc Urbosa basically one shotting all of the blights except her own… be limited for the plot… do it for the plot)
It’s heartbreaking knowing you’re essentially tapping into the Champion’s memories of the battle that took their lives. Their spirits live through Link, hence his ability to access these memories deep within.
So it never fails to make me emotional that Link has to experience the battle AGAIN, but this time know that this is how his friends died. He’s already been traumatized enough.
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blueskittlesart · 6 months ago
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in the nicest and most non-confrontational way possible. i feel like some of you think that anything that isn't directly openly spelled out for you within a story is "missed potential" or "unexplored." like. sometimes there are implied narratives. sometimes the point is that you as the reader are supposed to think and draw your own conclusions and participate in the story. the writers not directly spelling every little detail out for you doesn't mean that the story is poorly written or missed its own plot details somehow. PLEASE.
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mossy-aro · 2 months ago
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i hate to be a Downer but no i don’t think making the tenth generic post abt how ‘true love’ is and always will be the most powerful force in the universe and that nothing else compares gives you a personality actually. sorry.
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front-facing-pokemon · 10 months ago
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team-118 · 23 days ago
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chemical override
2.4k words, buddie, buckley-diaz family, first kiss, getting together (for realsies this time!), rated t
With blonde curls and sparkling blue eyes over a criminally well-fitted red suit, he could almost be mistaken for Buck, if not for the way he takes Eddie in, slow and savoring it. When their eyes meet, Eddie’s mouth goes dry.
Two strangers meet at an LAFD celebration themed as a masquerade ball. They already know everything about each other.
read it on ao3.
for @prettysophist from the halloween prompt list for the prompt 'masks'
Despite what recent events might lead you to believe, Eddie does actually know that he's attractive. He's never really leaned into it, but he’s not unaware.
Unlike Buck, who is unaware. Buck who broke up with Tommy alarmingly quickly once Eddie quietly mentioned his sexuality at breakfast with the 118 two weeks ago. Who had dinner warm and waiting on the table when Eddie flew back from El Paso, Christopher in tow, one week ago. Who kissed Christopher's forehead and hugged him as tight as Eddie had as soon as he saw his son again, who met Eddie’s gaze over Chris's disgruntled head. For a split second, Eddie had almost let the thought in. Maybe Buck…him and Buck…and then the moment passed, and then a week passed, and nothing happened.
And listen, it's been two weeks. Actually, it's been at least six months. Well, if he's honest, it's probably been something like seven years, and if it isn't going to happen, Eddie will get over it. If Buck isn't attracted to him - if Buck doesn't want him - that doesn't actually change anything.
At least, that's what Eddie tells himself as he takes a razor to his mustache, gentle but vicious, and gets himself dressed. Sharp line of his shoulders, deep red shirt complementing his skin, and Carla even helps him out with his hair, because she's better than Eddie could ever compensate her for.
Stepping back to admire her handiwork, she holds her hand out for a high five from Christopher. “Not bad, hm?” she asks him.
Eddie poses with his hands out, eyebrows raised.
“Don't do that,” Christopher says immediately. He hands Eddie the masquerade mask that matches his suit. “And don't forget this.” Chris leans into Carla, returning her high five before fixing Eddie with a stern look. His smile gives him away, though. “Win something cool, Dad.”
“Yessir,” Eddie salutes, and then it's hugs and kisses and out the door.
🎭 • 🎭 • 🎭
Buck wishes Eddie were here. Doesn't matter how cool the staff events at the LAFD get (ha), they're always better with his best friend next to him. Buck got tickets way late, though, and he’s sure Eddie is busy with Chris tonight anyway. After Eddie came out, after El Paso, Buck didn't see the point in lying to himself anymore. He thought…well, if there was any time for them to finally fall together, it seemed like the right one. But Buck wasn't going to pressure Eddie into anything, especially on the heels of the summer they just had. And when Eddie didn't make a move, Buck tried to get it through his head: he doesn't want you. He doesn't.
But Buck wants Eddie. Buck wants Eddie smiling over dinner, wants him sitting across from Christopher, wants him next to Buck at staff events, wants him everywhere and every way he isn't.
So he slips into a suit he hasn't even seen since poker with Eddie, he spends entirely too much time on his hair, he pulls the masquerade mask over his eyes and challenges himself to thirty consecutive seconds of thinking about literally anything except Eddie for the night.
It's not going well.
🎭 • 🎭 • 🎭
It's almost impressive how quickly Eddie gets used to the mask. Then again - he contemplates the last twenty something years of his life and almost wants to laugh, morbidly - maybe it isn't. Unlike the one he's been wearing his whole life, though, this mask is freeing. He could be anybody, in a crowd of anybodies - but he's Eddie, and he knows it so well now, sees the full picture so clearly. He catches his reflection in the doorway, and he feels powerful.
The LAFD's Recognition of Excellence awards are held in some lavish building in downtown LA this fall. Eddie thinks the masquerade ball theme is kind of cheesy, but he does have to admit that the crowd showed up and showed out. Light refracts through crystal and bounces off the metallic masks packed into the massive ballroom, making everything feel brighter.
“Damn, if I'd known the competition was this steep, I'd have tried a little harder,” a voice drawls from behind him.
Eddie turns, looks the man up and down. With blonde curls and sparkling blue eyes over a criminally well-fitted red suit, he could almost be mistaken for Buck, if not for the way he takes Eddie in, slow and savoring it. When their eyes meet, Eddie’s mouth goes dry.
“No competition here,” Eddie replies evenly. Then he takes a deep breath, lets himself say what he's thinking. “And if this is low effort for you, I'm in trouble.”
Red Suit's smile turns a little wicked. “You can have as much effort as you'd like.”
Fucking hell. Eddie clears his throat. “You're a firefighter?”
“What, you think I snuck in?”
Even his laugh sounds like Buck’s, but darker, coloured by whatever the hell is happening between them right now. Eddie’s so fucked. “Just trying to judge how hard I'll need to work to impress you.”
Red suit gets closer. “Stick with me tonight, let's find out.”
What the hell. Eddie grabs his hand and pulls him to the bar.
🎭 • 🎭 • 🎭
Buck spotted the guy the second he walked in - the lethal cut of his pants, shoulders set with the easy confidence of someone who knows he belongs. When he turns at Buck's words, Buck blinks away the image of Eddie. He drinks in the warm brown eyes and feels himself slipping into a comfortable, old stance. Someone Eddie never had the chance to meet. Thirty fucking seconds, he reminds himself, and lets himself be dragged to the bar.
Brown Eyes is a remarkably good distraction, so long as Buck doesn't let himself think about why the first guy who caught his attention could be Eddie’s identical twin. He keeps pace with Buck, pushes and pulls deliciously until all Buck can feel is the warmth of the lights, the crowd, the brown eyes on his body. He pops another button loose. Sue him.
“Craziest call,” he challenges, leaning forward to keep that warm gaze on him.
He's met with a huff, an exasperated kind of laugh. It sounds like Eddie’s. Buck loves it. “There was that plane landing on the highway last month.”
“No shit?” Buck asks. “We were there, too.”
“Yeah? Maybe we passed each other by.”
“Talk about fate.”
Brown Eyes snorts. “Half the LAFD was there.”
“And you're the only one here now.”
“Arguably, half the LAFD is here, too.”
This guy. Buck laughs, despite himself. “Let me have this, man.”
“Oh, sure,” his new friend smirks, and Buck wants to bite the corner of it. “Take what you want.”
“Dangerous words.”
When the stranger looks up, his eyes are dark and a little wild under his mask. His cheeks are flushed, and it matches the mask so well. Buck wants to know if it extends under the mask. If it extends anywhere else. There's a little mole under his eye. Fuck, when did they get so close? They're nose to nose. Buck can hear his own heartbeat.
“I'll risk it,” the stranger breathes, and he hesitates for a second longer, opening his mouth to speak.
Buck kisses his next words right off his tongue.
🎭 • 🎭 • 🎭
Eddie’s already pushing Red Suit up against the pristine marble bathroom counter by the time his brain comes back online.
As far as ideas go, he's had better - making out with a colleague whose name he hasn't bothered to learn at the edge of a staff event probably doesn't make the top ten. But then broad hands are covering his shoulders, pulling him close, and when long legs hook around Eddie’s hips he kind of forgets to worry about it.
The man under him gives as good as he gets. Eddie pulls back to study his partner’s face, black masquerade mask striking against the thin ring of blue surrounding his blown irises. His lips are spit-slick and shiny, panting. He looks so much like Buck - the thought appears again - and Eddie’s stomach does a fucking somersault. Eddie pulls him in closer by the sides of his face, brushing the fluffy curls off his forehead briefly. He catches a tiny glimpse of pink.
“Take this off,” Red Suit groans, tugging at Eddie's buttons.
Eddie laughs. “Easy, tiger,” he placates, reaching up to get his partner's suit off first. He pulls the jacket off, revealing a tight black shirt to match the mask, sleeves rolled to the forearms. Red Suit reaches for Eddie, gets his shirt unbuttoned enough for the chain around his neck to slip out.
And then three things happen in quick succession.
“Wait,” Eddie says, hands going still as he recognizes the black band tattooed on the arm under him.
“Oh, fuck me,” Buck breathes as Eddie’s St. Christopher pendant lands on his half-bare chest.
“...for extraordinary partnership and exceptional teamwork in times of duress, Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley!” Chief Simpson’s voice booms over a microphone in the distance. There's a smattering of applause, fading into confused silence.
Eddie stares into his best friend’s wide eyes - his best friend, whose tongue was just recently down his fucking throat - and his mouth drops open. “I,” he starts.
Buck gapes back at him. “You shaved your fucking mustache?”
“Buck,” Eddie tries again. He can't remember how to make words form.
“Without telling me?” Buck screeches.
“Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley,” Chief Simpson calls over the microphone again. “That's weird, I have them both RSVP’d,” comes quieter.
Eddie reboots. “Oh my god,” he gasps. He pulls at Buck’s jacket helplessly, trying to tug it back over his shoulders. “Oh my god, Buck, we have to get out there.”
Buck’s still frozen. “But when did you…?”
“Buck!” Eddie grabs his face, looks him square in the eyes. Buck’s breath stutters. Eddie releases him just as quickly, cheeks burning. “Put your jacket on. I am not facing half the department like this.”
He watches Buck’s vision clear, sees him come back online. “Oh, shit.”
As they stumble out the door, Eddie catches a glimpse of them in the bathroom mirror. Hair wild, eyes wilder, shirts rucked up and wearing matching blushes, there's nothing inconspicuous about them.
Eddie grins so wide his cheeks hurt as he pushes his best friend onstage.
🎭 • 🎭 • 🎭
Buck bites the inside of his cheek to make sure he isn't having some kind of fucked up hallucination-nightmare-dream, and then there's a mic in his face and a spotlight in his eyes.
“Thank you, Chief Simpson,” he says like his heart isn't in his throat. “Eddie and I have spent years building and strengthening our partnership. We are forever grateful to our LAFD family for their part in…”
Honestly, he blacks out a little, after that. He adds some stuff about the 118, pulls something out of his ass about taking pride in their work, and tries not to make his heart eyes too obvious. He doesn't look at Eddie, but he is so incredibly aware of him.
Buck stumbles off the stage, who knows how many minutes later, and by the time he’s outside the venue he's dizzy. He looks around, but he can't find-
“Buck.”
He whirls around. “Eddie.”
They sit heavily on the cold stone steps in front of the building. Their shoulders are inches apart. Buck’s never felt further from Eddie.
“Listen,” he starts. “We can just- I'll Uber home, and we don't have to talk about it again, I'll just-”
“Buck,” Eddie says, soft but firm. He turns, goes to put his hand on Buck's shoulder, then keeps reaching up.
“Man,” he laughs lightly. “Can I take this thing off?”
When Buck nods, Eddie lifts Buck’s mask over his eyes until it rests on top of his head. Eddie tugs his own mask off, too.
“Come home with me,” Eddie tells him.
“Eds-”
“It wasn't an accident, Buck. I mean, if I'd known…” he trails off. “I just didn't think you were interested.”
Buck laughs incredulously. “‘Cause I've been so casual about it?”
Eddie's smile is wry. “You've never been as forward as you were tonight.”
“I was trying to give you time,” Buck says weakly, pulling his knees under his chin. “I didn't want to scare you off.”
“You could never. Buck, you could never.” Eddie promises. “Not after this long.”
“I just - I thought you wanted -”
Eddie gets his finger under Buck’s chin, tilts it up towards him, and Buck loses his breath again. Framed by the stars and the sparkling building behind them, cheeks flushed from the cold, Eddie’s so fucking beautiful. He’s Buck's best friend. He’s Buck’s whole life. “What do you want?” Eddie asks.
“This,” Buck whispers. “This, forever.”
Eddie smiles. He's everything, he's fucking everything.
“What about you?” Buck says, braver. “What do you want?”
And oh, that's easy. “You,” Eddie grins.
When Eddie leans in again, Buck watches his brown eyes melt until his own flutter closed. Without the masks in the way, the kiss burns Buck to his core, warmth spreading through him like hot chocolate. Eddie’s in his veins.
It takes them ten minutes longer than it should to get home, because Buck keeps kissing Eddie senseless at the red lights.
🎭 • 🎭 • 🎭
Carla greets Eddie with a hug and Buck with a kiss on the cheek.
“Come by more often,” she insists, and Buck grins.
“I think I will,” he tells her.
“You two stayed out of trouble?” She asks Eddie on her way out.
“Don't we always?” He replies, innocent as ever. She laughs all the way down the driveway.
Eddie kisses Buck once more, chaste, just to see him turn pink. He laces their fingers together and pulls him towards Chris's room.
When Chris says to come in, he's already in bed, lights dimmed and Percy Jackson book hastily pushed under his pillow.
“Better not be reading ahead without me,” Buck says, kissing his forehead and pulling the book away.
“Hey, Buck,” Chris smiles. He doesn't look surprised to see Buck, but then again, why would he? “I was rereading, I swear.”
“Uh huh.”
“Did you win something cool, Dad?”
Eddie laughs, kneeling next to Buck. “Sure did, bud.”
“Good,” Chris yawns. “Tell me tomorrow.”
“I will.”
“Night, Dad. Night, Buck,” Chris manages, and then he's out like a light.
Eddie steps out and closes the door behind them. Buck starts for the couch, but Eddie grabs his hand.
“Come on,” Eddie insists. He pulls them into his bedroom, Buck trailing behind.
Eddie stops in his tracks. “Shit, wait,” he says, and Buck freezes.
Eddie reaches into Buck’s jacket pocket and pulls out their two masquerade masks. “Okay, all set,” he smiles brightly.
“Oh my god,” Buck pushes him into the bedroom, muffling his laughter in the nape of Eddie’s neck. He kisses the giggles and half-baked defenses out of Eddie’s mouth - and then he spends the rest of the night figuring out what else he can elicit from Eddie.
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dreaming-of-barbi · 3 months ago
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That's so fucked up that people are romantizing Franco, because even Red Barrels are showing him as a total creep and disgusting person. In Outlast Tag I have a feeling that some artists are making him completly different character, making him charming/safe/lovely. I even have seen some people who were drawing him with normal face (without big forehead) and you couldn't tell them that it's the right character design! I feel like Franco enjoyers are more agressive than fans of other Outlast character. Even with Coyle/Eddie simps they seem to understand that they are evil and they murder others, but with Franco I feel like they can take it when someone tell them that he's grown up, murder people in very brutal way and his voice lines are just disgusting... it really seems that people are getting agressive only because someone tell some shit about 🎀✨️Franco🎀✨️. I know his fans isn't the only one that have stick in their ass (cause I seen a lot of shit bout Coyle/Big Grunts/Easterman etc.) but yall need to understand that FRANCO IS A GROWN ASS MAN and you would run for your life if you'd meet someone in irl as 1% fucked up as he is. Saying that he's just a Baby and he made nothing wrong is just 🤮 and problem is in yall if you justificate him and things he made.
idk how to tell you this ,,,, but this game is fictional. The characters are fictional. You're free to feel however you want about them, just like I and anyone else is.
I partially agree with the part about changing his appearance to make him look more "normal" or whatever, but at the same time people are allowed to interpret their favs however they want to. They can draw / write for him however they want to. I don't like "fixing" his face, just because it (personally) feels like saying "he's too ugly", but again, that's just me. As an artist, I know that people are going to have different interpretations of a character I like. It's just part of other people existing in the world. Not everyone thinks like you do, and that's okay.
Do you know how many posts I saw (and STILL see) about Eddie Gluskin, doing essentially the same thing as what you said people do with Franco?? That man would cut you open to "make a baby in you" no hesitation and people still ""romanticize"" him (me fuckin included I LOVE YOU EDDIE). Its just part of liking fucked up characters, some people are going to want to make them more "normal".
Personally, I see the normalization as more like wanting to give him some normalcy in his life, because of his past / lore. I love the idea of letting Franco have a normal life, be a normal person. A life where he never had to deal with the stupid Mafia stuff, had a decent father and never ran into Murkoff, having a normal, happy life. But, I also seriously adore his original, fucked up character.
Honestly, who actually cares if people are "justifying" his actions??? None of them are real. He is not real. I have never understood the sentiment that you have to make sure people know you don't justify a fictional characters actions... they are not real. It's not a real person. None of the things he did happened.
Maybe it's just me, but I would not run from someone like him. That's not some edge lord "im so evil and dark" bs but because of my real life experiences. Been with and around people in my life / family who are quite like him and I didn't run.
I imagine some of us are using it as a sort of coping mechanism, because (at least for me) some of us dealt with people who treated us like he would. Though, that's getting into personal territory, and I won't try and speak for others.
All I can really say is either learn that not everybody's going to have the same ideas as you or block the tag. Sorry if that's too harsh a response, but life is too short to really give that much of a fuck about someone /something other people like.
And I've said this before but this is literally Outlast, all of the characters are this fucked up, it's not just him.
Like does no one remember Outlast 2??? Does no one remember the pile of dead burnt babies, or the hundreds of other fucked up things in that game?? I really feel like Franco does not compare.
So, can we please just be over with this now? I mean, drama is totally fun and I love it, but I can imagine others don't.
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b4kuch1n · 1 year ago
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ough brain is doing SO bad but sometimes. there are colors
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syztemerrxr · 5 months ago
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imo you dont have to have like thousands of pictures of your favorite character to be their number one fan btw. i feel like what matters the most is that you actually understand the character on a deep level
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forcedhesitation · 5 months ago
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dead by daylight-- the game where you can play as steve harrington from stranger things, and can get sent to partake in a match of murder hide and seek at midwich elementary from silent hill, where you can then use a lute to perform bardic inspiration from dungeons and dragons to give a bonus to your teammates, except for the one who is being chased by nemesis from resident evil 3.
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eggsistential-basket · 1 month ago
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thinking about the person i could have been if i tried a little harder to find my own way
#probably the thing i am resenting my parents for right now is how good they were at convincing me#not to pursue any career paths other than the ones they laid out#every time i was like hey this seems interesting should i check it out? they would be so quick with the#do you care enough about it to stake your livelihood on it? to do it for your whole working life?#and obviously 8 yo 12 yo 14 yo 17 yo 18 yo me would get terrified and go no sorry and just not look into anything further#supposedly this is the safe option but everything i do feels meaningless#all of the jobs in this field seem meaningless#the job market in this field right now is dog shit and I'm fighting like hell for positions that just make me sad to think about#but every time i think hey what if i tried another thing#now my brain shuts me down with the do you care enough about it to stake your livelihood on it#your whole life on it#and the answer is no and it's gonna be no for a long time i bet#don't know if I'll ever find my way out of it#told my roommate's boyfriend about my general dispassion for pretty much everything in life#he asked me if I'm even a person#which feels very true#i feel like this path I've followed if i keep following it#I'm not going to be a person i can be proud of#i know it's really early in my life to say but#idk if it's nature or nurture or my own damn fault but all the ambition has been weaned out of me and I've been getting just surviving#i just wish i got told more you can be whatever you want to be :)#instead of whatever you'll do you'll be good at so do what makes money and push your hobbies to the side you can do them after you retire#your mom likes this and you're good at it so you'll like it too it'll make you money this is the best thing#the other thing is harder and doesn't make as much money don't do that you won't like it that much i bet#when i was younger#maybe I'd be struggling more but I'd be really happy and fulfilled#or maybe this is genuinely the best timeline and eggs who tried to pursue art hates it now#maybe I'd be really stupid at all the other things i gave a passing glance at#eggsistential speaks#tag rant
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