#the answer is honestly indeterminate

[codgod]

doodle request: ouppy mariana

can an ouppy and a bnuny truly fall in love ??

[moonstruckme]

touchy bestfriend james makes my brain short circuit i love it so much

can u write a touchy bestfriend james and he’s lying on the bed while reader is in the bathroom and r comes in and sees him and he tells r to come over and lie with him then they fall asleep but she wakes up because he’s awake and playing with her boobs like stress balls and r asks what he’s doing then he just says that they feel warm and soft

Okay this was definitely a rough attempt, but I hope you like it!

cw: pg-13 level smut

bestfriend!James x fem!reader ♡ 618 words

When you come in, James looks nearly asleep despite the sunlight still streaming in through the windows. His face has gone soft and squishy, lips in a half-pout from how his cheek is smushed into his pillow. His hair is getting so long he’s had to push most of it to the back of his head to be able to see his phone screen where he scrolls idly in front of him, but one stubborn curl falls down his face and rests on the bridge of his nose. 

“What, do I have a massive pimple or something?” he asks without looking up. “What’re you staring at me for?” 

You cover your embarrassment with annoyance, rolling your eyes as you lean against the doorway. “Just wondering why you look like you’re about to drift off at four in the afternoon.” 

“Because it’s nice and warm in the sun,” he answers easily. “C’mere, love.” 

You do what he says (you always do, in the end), crawling onto the bed and laying down beside him. James shuts off his phone, setting it down in favor of sliding his hand between your waist and the mattress, big palm coming to rest at your navel as he tugs your back closer to his front. You don’t know about the sun, but James is certainly warm. 

“Your arm’s gonna fall asleep,” you point out. 

“Don’t care,” he says, already sounding drowsier. 

“Don’t we have to be up to meet Remus and Sirius in a couple hours?” 

“We will be.” 

You’re out of protests, and not unhappy for it. James’ palm is warm and comforting on your stomach, his other hand reaching over you to rest just below your sternum. His breathing evens out quickly, and it’s that steady rhythm that eventually lulls you into sleep with him. 

You wake, an indeterminable amount of time later, because something feels odd. You rouse slowly, aware first of the pleasant warmth at your back, then of the fact that you’re fully clothed in James bed, and finally of his hands on your boobs. 

He’s squeezing them, feeling about with curious but sure hands, one tit in each. You lie there motionlessly, unsure if James is awake, or honestly, if you are. His touch is oddly comforting, and while your best friend is a very tactile person, this level of intimacy is unusual enough that you almost wonder if you might be dreaming. Then he squeezes too hard, and you’re sure you’re not. 

“Ow!” you flinch back into James, hand coming up to grip his wrist. “What, are you trying to get milk to come out?”

“Hm?” James’ voice is sleepy, less so as he realizes the placement of his hands. His grip loosens. “Oh, shit. Sorry, love, I was half-asleep. Didn’t realize I was doing that.” 

He doesn’t sound nearly as embarrassed as you would be in his situation, but that’s James. “It’s okay,” you say (really, it’s more than okay). “Just, it hurts when you squeeze that hard. They’re sensitive, Jamie.” 

You feel him nod against the back of your head. “M’sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to hurt ya.” He doesn’t move his hands, though, and you make no move to encourage him to. “They’re just really warm and soft, y’know?”

You do know. The thing poking into your back is warm too, though not so soft. 

“I mean, I don’t mind,” you say, glad you’re facing away so he can’t see the intense blush spreading over your face like a blight. “It’s sort of nice. Just…don’t squeeze so hard, okay?” 

James’ thumb soothes over the skin of your breast, a comforting touch and a promise. He begins to knead at it gently. “Got it,” he says.

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

HELLAVERSE x Reader - Part 2 of ? - Life with Owl Boi

GIF by honey-im-still-free

GIF by fatboychedda

GIF by idzymi

Summary: You're just some person who lived on your own in a slightly spooky town. Who knew demons would show up! Who knew they'd end up living with you?

Tags: Reader Insert, Hazbin Hotel Characters, Helluva Boss Characters, Fluff, Humor, Friendship, Romance

Relationships: ( & for platonic, x for Romance)

Stolas & Reader, Fizzarolli & Reader, Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader

Stolas was actually a pretty good roomate. After the initial awkwardness and hour tour, you quickly established some rules:

No breaking my stuff

No stealing my stuff

No hurting my cat

No hurting me

Don't be a jerk

Stolas agreed, saying these were rather reasonable terms.

You lived in a rather run-down house which was great because it was rather cheap. It had working wifi and the roof didn't leak and the water was clean so it was ok. So what if the doors were slightly ajar and the paint was peeling?

Anyway, because you had this run-down house you had an extra room to spare. you admitted to Stolas that it was rather dusty and mainly used as a storage room but he was just flattered you were giving him his own space at all.

Between the two of you, the room got cleared out and dusted and the small family of opossums living there were chased away, You didn't know they were there but that'd explain where your peanut butter kept going.

Stolas was talkative and somehow never said a thing. He'd often ramble about plants and stars or whatever interested him at the moment but would quickly end up apologizing over and over. You let him know you didn't mind. Also that you might zone out but it had nothing to do with him you just had a hard time focusing for any extended amount of time.

"I believe that's called Attention Deficient Disorder, yes? Or Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder?"

You told him you had no idea and just left it at that. He didn't pry, which you were thankful for.

Stolas told you a lot of things, and you did your best to remember the things that seemed important. You got him a small potted plant you saw at the hardware store as well as some basic plant-tending supplies. He was overjoyed and was basically in tears. So much so you were confused and worried that you had done something wrong.

"O-oh my, no!" Stolas fretted, wiping the growing tears off his cheeks "These are happy tears, my friend. I just- I can't really remember the last time someone got me a gift. It makes me...it makes me happy."

That gift opened the floodgate for you to get more random things you think he'd like. Glow-in-the-dark star stickers, small succulents and flowers, a funny looking stuffed animal of indeterminable species... That last one wasn't based on anything more than you just thought it'd be something he'd like.

It was.

He hugs it in his sleep.

Once Stolas saw you fretting over bills, he started feeling kind of...well. Very guilty. He was just staying here this whole time doing nothing while you constantly gifted him with things simply because you think he'd like them (and he does! it honestly doesn't matter what it is because you gave it to him and that alone make him happy).

And here you were paying for it all. It reminded him of his rather sheltered and pampered upbringing. And how selfish and conceited he could be because of it.

So, the owl demon threw on his best human disguise, went to town, and got a job.

...

You know this because you had to comfort him after said job.

"-and they just YELLED at me because I sat down for, like, five minutes??? My feet were hurting and the customers were so mean even though I didn't do anything to them??"

Man was not made for retail. You asked him why he got a job at all. His answer made you feel rather fuzzy on the inside. You hadn't even brought that up, but he noticed and tried to help.

You still asked him to quit because of how stressed he was. Maybe he can be like a live-in maid kind of thing? You couldn't really pay him for that but you'd take care of the money stuff... He agreed to that but insisted he try to find a different job.

You were just confused as to how he got one so quickly in the first place.

Eventually, life calmed down and you and your new roommate got into a bit of routine. Work, play, research ways to return to Hell, etc etc...

...then The Storm hit.

[panlight]

hi!! i’m so sorry to keep sending you asks (if you get sick of it please just let me know and i’ll shut up i promise!! 💕💕)

so this is re: the cullens being in high school, as per the ask you answered a couple days ago! i also always thought it was super weird, and i’ve been thinking for a while now that a MUCH better cover story would for them all (even carlisle and esme) to be grad school housemates (i say this as someone who has now spent two years in grad school and is about to be there for another five at least lmaoooo)

here’s why i think it would work:

1. the age weirdness wouldn’t be as obvious bc people of all ages go to grad school (i started when i was 22 and had classmates in their 40s)

2. related to age, the visible/physical age also wouldn’t matter as much since some of my classmates (me included 😭😭) looked like we could still pass as high schoolers while others gave off huge “kids and a mortgage vibes” even if they were just like a year older

3. the whole looking “off” and tired thing is just like. the grad school Look™️. the shadows under the eyes and general gaunt-ish appearance honestly wouldn’t stand out that much and if somebody said something about them looking “off” or whatever, they could just be like “late night studying” and the other person would be like “lmao so true bestie”

4. if they pretended they were all renting space in the same big house (and carlisle and esme just acted a little less parental), the whole “dating each other” thing wouldn’t be that weird at all. i feel like it’s not that uncommon for couples who get along to rent different floors or sections of a house, and if they didn’t pretend to be one big weird family situation and instead just acted like they all met each other at school, i don’t think people would even bat an eye

5. people go to grad school forever. like. for so long (i vaguely knew of someone who was in the eighth or ninth year of her phd). esp if they picked something like a big state school where the “kids” could go to undergrad first, they could realistically do four years of undergrad, maybe a two or three year masters, and then a phd of indeterminate length (usually at least five). that would allow them to stay in the same place for at least 11 years

and this is not an official point, but i will note that for carlisle to still do his whole doctor thing, i think it would be perfectly reasonable for him to have already “graduated” or whatever, but continue to stay with his “friends” for financial reasons, or just bc the living situation worked for everyone

anyway, i’m so sorry this was so long, and honestly i bet someone has already said this somewhere before, but it just struck me when reading the “why tf are the cullens in high school” post that grad school would be such a great cover story for them

haha anyway thanks for putting up with my ramblings and thank you for all the lovely work you do on the blog!! 🥰🥰

I've definitely seen "just put them in college!" before (and I have made that argument myself) but I don't know if I've seen the grad school cover story specifically before!

It would allow Esme and/or Carlisle to be the 'peers' of their children rather than some sort of guardian or parental figures. They could, as you said, all be renting a house together and Esme could be studying architecture or getting a PhD in art history or whatever while the kids study who knows what. Maybe there's a medical school as well and Carlisle can go back (it still makes zero sense that Edward and Rosalie go "to keep him current' like how is that supposed to work? They come home and just recite from perfect vampire memory everything that happened in calls? Wouldn't Carlisle be keeping current by like, idk, actually being a doctor, reading journals, going to conferences, and continuing education?).

A group of friends renting a house together as a bunch of couples makes way more sense than two parents barely visibly older than their foster/adopted kids who all date each other.

And, honestly, it's probably a better use of their time to get actual advanced degrees rather than stopping at undergrad? I know because of secrecy how they use their knowledge and skills is somewhat fraught but like, publish papers under a false name or let someone else take the credit or something and you can still contribute to the world of academia.

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One in Eleven Million (ch. 5)

damian wayne x reader x jon kent

(A/N): A few more chapters to go. I'll try to post more regularly but honestly dates get away from me so fast. I hope you all enjoy!

Series masterlist linked here.

warnings: sensory overload, planes

wc: ~1100

~~

Jon swore that boarding time had only gotten longer the second time around. You attempted to shove him towards the already packed boarding lines. 

“You guys have carry-ons and you need to find a spot for them so go.” You insisted. Over the loudspeaker, airline employees began allowing passengers in group two to board. Damian opened his mouth to argue again. Jon cut him off. 

“You’re right; we should.” 

You turned towards him, surprised, but took the opportunity. 

“Thank you, Jon. I swear I can in fact survive twenty minutes without you guys. I did take a whole other plane here before I met you.”

Jon wrapped his hand around Damian’s elbow and walked him to the gate. Damian’s eyes roamed over Jon’s face, calculating. 

“Are you alright?” There was a slight pause. “Overstimulated?”

Jon nodded. Even with his earbuds in, the people and the noise grated on his senses. Until his powers came back in their entirety or settled out, they’d be in flux, and Jon wanted nothing more than to get out of the simultaneously open and crowded gate. The dim space of the plane sounded like a haven, even enclosed as it was. Any other day, he would have argued more about staying back with you. 

Damian passed Jon his own sunglasses and took the lead, scanning his boarding pass then Jon’s and guiding him into the boarding bridge. The lights, unnatural and piercing as they were, were dulled by the sunglasses. Jon relaxed the tension in his forehead, now looking more so than squinting at Damian. 

“Thanks.” He pulled a deep breath in then let it out through pursed lips. 

“You know you can just tell me things like that right?” Damian nudged. The line moved and they stepped further down the bridge. 

“Yeah I just—everything’s weird and off balance and I’m missing the-“ His voice dropped to a whisper. “-powers that I’ve had since I was a kid so it’s-”

“A lot,” Damian nodded. 

“Yeah.”

Jon dipped his head in response to the flight attendants’ greetings as he passed them by, following the line as it continued on towards the end of the plane. 

“You take the end,” Damian instructed. “You’ll have window control and the corner if you need it.” He reached his hand out to take Jon’s carry-on.

Jon didn’t argue, sliding clumsily to the end of the row. He turned the small TV — built-in to the headrest in front of him — off before sinking into his seat. It let out a puff of air as he sat down. Above his head, the sound of wheels on plastic illustrated Damian lifting both carry-ons into the overhead bins. Jon realized belatedly that he shouldn’t have let Damian do that with his arm injury. Too late now. 

After a moment, Damian maneuvered — much more gracefully — into the chair beside Jon, shoving his backpack under the seat in front. His arm curled around Jon’s shoulders. Jon followed the movement, forehead tipping down to the crook of Damian’s neck and eyes fluttering closed. One of Damian’s hands combed through his hair. The other wrapped around Jon’s wrist. Damian did that sometimes — often. In some ways, Jon appreciated it: Damian’s own way of checking his heartbeat in turn. Sometimes, like today, a move like that made Jon feel small. But Damian was safe. Jon could be small with him. 

There were a few minutes of indeterminate noise before you arrived. Jon felt your appearance more than anything else and even then, mostly in the change in Damian’s posture. 

“Hey.” Your voice was low. “Jon okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” You were addressing Damian but Jon answered anyway. “The airport was just loud.”

Damian’s hand didn’t move from his hair. Jon’s eyes stayed closed as you situated your bag under the seat and sat down. He assumed there’d been some sort of nonverbal communication over his head, but he couldn’t prove it. 

Jon sat up, eyes blinking open underneath the sunglasses. He recognized the worried look on your face — and didn’t that say something about how ridiculous the last twelve plus hours had been if he knew that face well already?

“I’m okay.” 

Your eyes narrowed in disbelief. 

“Or I’m getting there,” Jon amended. You seemed to take that answer better. In the middle seat, Damian huffed a laugh and switched to holding Jon’s wrist with his left hand. Jon didn’t pull away. Having Damian nearby, the warmth of his hand wrapped around Jon’s wrist, made all the difference. 

“Just let me know if there’s anything I can do.” Your eyebrows were still furrowed in concern. “Seriously.” 

Damian seemed to take you at your word so Jon nodded. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, of course,” you reassured him. “We’re in this together now.” 

A flight attendant bustled down the aisle, shutting overhead storage and checking that everyone was wearing seatbelts. You moved your hands away from your waist and both Jon and Damian copied the movement. The flight attendant moved on. 

Jon dropped his head back to Damian's shoulder, eyes following as you reached down into your bag and pulled out the craft project from the day before. 

“What are you making?” Damian asked. You looked up at him, eyes flicking down to your lap then back up. 

“Oh, nothing special honestly. I just found this pattern and liked it. And it’s nice to have something like this to do when watching TV, I think. Or like when you’re on the phone with someone. To have something to do with my hands.”

“It’s beautiful.” Jon readjusted his position against Damian’s shoulder as Damian leaned towards you. “You’re talented.”

“I’m not, honestly. It’s not really art, just string and a pattern I found online.” 

“Tt,” objected Damian. “There are many forms of art.”

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen and welcome once again to flight 1221 nonstop to Gotham International Airport. Thank you all for your patience and adaptability around the delays. We are fourth in line for takeoff and running smoothly so we should be up in the air in no time. Please be aware that there may be some turbulence as we get up in the air so seatbelt signs will remain on until it is safe to remove them. Thank you all again, and have a great flight.” 

The loudspeaker was silent for a moment. Jon opened his eyes from whenever he’d squeezed them shut. The crackling in the pilot’s voice as it filtered through the speaker was more audible than it had been the night before. 

Jon winced as the flight safety video began playing. He was spared the flashes of light from the darkened TV screen but not the sound projected over the entire plane. Pulling his hood over his eyes, Jon curled away from Damian and into the corner of the plane, closing them once again. 

[best-tournament-blog-bracket]

@yen-sids-tournament @hot-take-tournament

yen-sids-tournament propaganda:

This blog Is very cool. A fun little thing is that everything thy like is a Disney poll so If I need to find new poll blogs I can just go through there

hot-take-tournament:

Official tumblr blog of carpreg as analyzed through the lens of both biological and ecological precedent. We also sell Orange Joe for the low low price of just -0.50$!!! No refunds. Orange Joe sold separately, exclusions apply.

Honestly I love how crazy it is there I have my very own tag where my insane asks are answered and all the hot takes are even more insane with things like wet bread is good and orange Joe is delicious so it's great here join us join us join us join us join us join us join us join us

Htt tournament fact #disco elysium +1: They are cursed by at least one god of technology. Proof:

Mod is British (I think, I just know for sure they are not from the USA), and every time any horrifying USAmerican thing crosses their radar, they say something about being horrified, and they are so adorably baffled, then all of us USAmerican followers add on and we get to see them more and more horrified as it goes on. Sometimes these revelations are from hot takes that have been submitted, sometimes it's from comments on the hot takes, but every time it's reassuring to know that we aren't the only ones horrified.

Their askbox got pissed in (I know this because of reasons), they deserve better.

Vote for htt or we’ll make you drink our patented Hatsune Miku Chicken Smoothie! (Pictured on blog header.)

Htt mod fun fact #(however many have been submitted): They spent an indeterminate amount of time, harboring the firm belief that Disco Elysium was invented by tumblr as a joke and not a real game!! On day six of the blog's existence, before (though not by much) we knew the horrors that could lurk in this place, Hot Take Tournament responded to an ask assuring them that another game existed with, "oh thank god you guys can't play with my heart like that, i thought this was gonna be like the time i found out disco elysium wasn't real, i was devestated" After multiple asks, we had to send them the wikipedia link for the game before they'd believe Disco Elysium was, in fact real and we weren't just fucking with them. ...so yeah, that's the disco elysium thing. This was day 6!! We were still under the impression that the worst we'd deal with were weird food takes!

[legionofpotatoes]

All other criticisms of modern Star Wars aside, the thing that gets me the most is how every single story is being written to fit into some Avengers-level grand finale that just isn't laying a solid enough foundation to make it worth the wait. Regardless of whether the individual stories are good or bad, what makes them fall so short, imo, is that there's usually no real payoff within their own runtimes (unless you count cheap callbacks or loose promises of More, which you shouldn't)

Like, I already knew halfway through Ahsoka that we were in for a cliffhanger and it's just like...alright, guess we'll see how this ends in about 5 years? Even Mando, which had a great first season and was poised to stand on its own two feet and ride off on a rootin' tootin' bounty huntin' adventure, has ultimately become yet another dusty path on the road to the current Big Plot with an indeterminate due date. That's not deliciously addictive media, it's a dry-ass carrot on a spindly little stick, lol

Of course, this is a problem that many franchises are happily getting cozy with lately because everybody wants to have their own Infinity War / Endgame moment, but I guess it seems a bit more egregious with Star Wars because, ironically, it used to work best because it had less overall focus. Like, sure, we had concurrent movies, animated series, and games, but they were always happy to do their own things and tell their own stories with definitive conclusions. Now it all has to funnel into the Big New Plot and, man, I honestly just can't bring myself to care when it feels like an endless waiting game

I definitely need to get around to watching Visions at some point because, every time it pops up, it sounds like the lifeblood that Star Wars sorely needs atm

Yeah the setup-and-payoff a-to-b type dramatic clarity that seemed so entrenched into the very bones of cinematic grammar - up to around the emergence of streaming, wink wink nudge nudge - is sorely missed in star wars atm. sure maybe downsized writers rooms fidgeting with limited series formats instead of doing actual seasonal TV has something to do with it, but even that is probably such a small piece of the larger issue that spins all this longform storytelling bullshit ferry wheel around.

Another part is certainly chasing the MCU business model of it all like you said. Carrot on a stick is verbatim how I've often described these things myself, the endless promise of another promise of another promise instead of forming a complete thought with a beginning and an end. servicing the plot before story at all costs. another part still is reverence towards the aesthetic trappings of the source material instead of its themes, trying to nail the exact texture of tatooine's huts and dial in the perfect balance of lightsaber choreography and pay homage to a thousand iconic shots before articulating something true in the text.

And like it's an endless laundry list, this confluence of capital-I Issues both industry-scale and creatively-driven that seem to be flaying the skin off the bones of whatever star wars even "is" nowadays. no one can answer that in the context of billions of dollars made off toys and storylines centering around this one moment in fictional history about sons and fathers and empires and rebellions. so they just keep twisting in the wind filling in any gaps within that period. I don't know nonnie, it's all so bleak. ahsoka and obi wan and even mando tbh. as charming as season 1 was, it truly felt like it coasted on its incredible restraint to avoid muddying its aesthetic with cameos, and lucked into effective storytelling as a result of that utterly unintentional alchemy. that's obviously well and truly gone now as its true optics have reared head.

what star wars is by itself is such a pointless discussion, right? andor argues it's a perfectly functional heightened universe that can support incredibly nuanced and dramatically charged stories of grassroots rebellion and the bureaucratic strain of fascist regimes. visions argues it's a world beholden to the force, an endlessly mutable and elegant metaphor that can support infinite monomyths and fairy tales. both are equally fantastic at executing on their takes, despite being in diametrically opposite extremes of interpreting the source. so it's not really about that at all, why the other stuff sucks this bad.

they're just bad at the craft of it, that's really it. whether it's auteur worship or business decisions rotting that fish down, it still rots all the same. maybe the new writers' guild contracts can shift the winds a little, because I was so securely done with star wars and then the aforementioned 2 shows came and affected me. so, so profoundly that I'm back on the hook again. like a lil sucker!

[hypexion]

It's The Legend of Ruby Sunday, an episode that's only so much about Ruby. Anyway on to the thoughts:

While this episode has many qualities, it is also still the big nothing much happens first part of a two-parter episode

I see New Rose has got a part-time job at UNIT. I didn't know they did those

For some reason UNIT is also employing an actual child. Kate what are you doing

The main event is the Time Window, which isn't very good. But it's the best they have

Honestly in spite of the mystery-box of it all I was engaged

Ruby can't catch a break and still does not learn about her mum 😔

I was expecting the cause of Mystery Mum's pointing to be linked to them using a window. Because a window works both ways

Also maybe they should have shut the window when the evil swirl showed up

"woah it's the TARDIS" is a good twist though

Meanwhile the Doctor's original goal before he gets distracted is the Susan Twist of Susan Triad

Turns out she's perfectly nice and is in fact just bait

I was convinced it was the return of the Beast somehow

Also for a moment I was thinking "Harriet... Saxon!?" but instead it was another Arbinger

The Mother and the Father and the Other you say?

Sutekh returns after 49 years and an indeterminate amout of time in the time tunnel

Incidentally in The Pyramids of Mars Sutekh was just a guy. A very powerful guy from a species of very powerful people, but not a super god

Also we confirm that in addition to being evil Sutekh is also a jerk what with the whole Triad Trap

Mrs. Flood is untrustworthy and kind of rude

The Trickster, the Mara and Sutekh meet on a neutral planet. It is a tense moment. The Trickster's teeth gleam. The Mara's eyes glint. Sutekh's... nose drips

next time: more sand than a concrete convention and maybe even some answers

[tomatoland]

The TopMew scene that was cut was redundant. We already know top is remorseful and Mew is angry. So I’m not surprised it was cut. He should have kept in the other Top scene though where he turned down the hook up. That would have been more impactful for the character.

Oops, I totally did not see this until now. I doubt you are still around, anon, but I’m going to answer this because I finally organized my thoughts.

I wasn't referring to just the break room scene in that post. It's a cascading effect. There is Mew's softened dialogue in EP 6 confrontation, the two previous cut TopMew scenes, and the break room scene. The fact that Jojo said he wish he kept those earlier two TopMew scenes should not be the case. He should not be regretting anything. Everything he wants to show us, should all be on the table. It is HIS art vision. And if they were not editing the episode the same week as it aired, he would have been able to realize that he wanted to put those scenes back in and done so.

That's what I meant by pacing and confirming the storyline is progressing the way he wants. But what is happening is one cut in one episode is leading to another cut in a future episode because there is no basis for the action anymore. As a result, we are losing overall continuity. And who knows what else they'll have to cut because of the editing choices they've already made. Which is why I am worried, they won't have the scenes left to make this a satisfying TopMew reunion at the rate they are going.

I wish we didn't have the interview where Jojo said that because it's making me not trust him with TopMew anymore. If he realized earlier that those scenes didn't fit, they should have done re-shoots but instead we just have cascading cuts.

Removing all these scenes is removing depth from TopMew. It is making them into surface characters. And none of this deleted footage is canon so there is that too.

Yes, definitely, the scene were Top is trying to move on is incredibly important to learning about Top and how he feels about Mew. And they should have kept that regardless of what random people in the fandom think.

But even the deleted scene of Mew's revenge fantasy of wanting to physically hurt Top from episode 7 is important because it provides a basis for his violent thoughts and words in the break room scene. I wish they had shown it at least the TopMew portion as a flash like an intrusive thought while he was in the tub. Everyone has intrusive thoughts, right? No one could fault Mew for that.

So by not showing us that Mew has had violent thoughts, now Mew's anger in the break room scene seems to come out of nowhere so it no longer fit.

I don't agree about the break room scene being redundant. The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.

So instead of knowing that Mew is still incredibly angry and therefore his actions are irrational, what we got was Mew saying "okay" to trying it again with Top here by the pool and then at the end of the episode, inviting Boeing to go wakeboarding with them and saying shit like this to him.

Oops. I meant to cut the collage below in half, but I’ve already hit 10 images, so read left column and right column separately.

Now, Mew just seems wishy-washy. I would rather have seen the depth of Mew's pain and rage then absolutely nothing at all, his indeterminable poker face however sweet it looks.

Mew being wishy-washy/indifferent or just deciding to get back at Top on any given random day means their relationship doesn't have a viable path forward right now. Because if they cannot communicate honestly and vulnerably about what happened with Boston, their relationship cannot ever heal and get healthy. They'll just always be stepping around the cracks. This is the albatross I was referring to in this post.

Mew has never broken down and cried. We've gotten the lone tear, here or there. And we know from this BTS that they have footage of Book crying his heart out. As the viewer, we haven't seen it because Jojo is not painting us a picture.

But removing the break room scene also removed depth from Top too and TopMew's relationship in general.

It shows us that Top is really sorry and willing to show with actions not just with his words that he wants Mew to move forward, so THEY can move forward. Him being unsure of how to handle a wrathful Mew, but still wanting to try. Him saying he already talked to Boeing, since Mew is deeply insecure about him. Him holding Mew's hand and trying to break down this fortress Mew has built around his heart piece by piece.

The song I posted of what I thought the scene could be saying if it had stayed in. Top's POV: "Love, I don't know how this shit works, but I know we could work things out if we just work together." And that's the key phrase "work together."

And this appeasement photo and answering a fan's tweet that we're going to see happy Mew soon. Jojo thinks we're so dumb.

All I want to do is scream back, "But are they ever going to TALK?!" TopMew cannot just solve this with sex. We need soul vulnerability. And I'm bloody annoyed because prior to episode 10 that is literally all they needed, but instead TopMew went backwards.

[fic--writer]

Instinctive Charm

If Instinctive Charm were a spell, and Rolan had asked Tav to teach him the art. But the only way to achieve focus remains primal passion.

Chapter 3: Whatever my teacher desires. (final chapter) ⚠️ NSFW, SMUT

— It was really crazy, but I feel better now. Thanks, Tav. But I still haven't figured out how to use it to concentrate. - The truth serum stopped working, and Rolan was no longer anxious when he spoke.

— It will definitely help you, but not right away. Give yourself time to get back on track, to recover from the shock. Learn to live with it. For now we'll try another method of concentration.

He looked at her blankly, got up from the improvised bed and began to study the scrolls on the table.

Tav decided it was time to move on to the next part. The pleasant part. She noticed his nervousness and informed him:

— No, we won't be poking around in your brain any more. At least not today. Just relax.

She stood up and walked towards him, fighting her own indecision, but knowing that it would be foolish to back out now. Especially since she wanted to complete the ritual and check how hot the tiefling's skin could be:

— I would like to ask you a question. A rather personal question. - Tav said quietly - Tell me... are you a virgin?

— What? I'm, uh... - The Master of Ramazite tower choked up for the second time that day. - You really didn't think so, did you? No, I haven't for a long time... But no, I'm not a virgin. - Tav's question stunned him. And foolishly, he began to leaf through the scrolls on the table, pretending to study the magic formulas.

— There are physical methods. Well, to wake you up and get you going, and also to appeal to your instincts. - She pointed to his groin with an indeterminate hand movement. - Now, let's get on with it. Is there any chance that I might be your type? I know the truth serum has worn off, but… Remember, you have to answer honestly, whatever the answer is, it won't upset me.

— I... you know, it's really personal,' Rolan blushed and slapped the air with his tail, but then he pulled himself together and blurted it out: - Of course you're my... type. How could anyone not like you? Look at you, the saviour of Baldur's Gate. But... Why do you even ask that? - He tried to pick up the pile of papers he had unfolded earlier, but only managed to drop a few sheets on the floor.

— I'm asking because it's part of our class, remember why we're here? - Tav continued, flicking a strand of hair back in her face, trying to hide her embarrassment - Because exercise can really help you. If you haven't had a vivid experience for a while, it's OK. Bad memories are in the past, life has settled down and taken its grey course, and the new bright moments are not yet upon you. We'll fix that. There are... There are activities other than tantrums and pillow fights that give you a burst of energy. And they also appeal to basic instinct. These 'practices' help the wizard to create and channel the energy for the spell.

Rolan felt his mind begin to draw all sorts of not-so-decent pictures. But he nodded understandingly and finally left the papers alone. After all, Tav had really helped him, and more than once.

— Good. - She playfully spread her legs to give him a better view of her thighs peeking out from under her skirt. - I ask because if you've been through this before, you know exactly how much energy it has.

— The procreative instinct? You mean the thought of offspring? But... - he replied, lowering his head and feeling the colour engulf him completely. He was still waiting for some hidden catch. The thought of Tav offering him something like that so easily couldn't take root in his mind. Still, who knew these sorceresses from the Charm school.

— Does every mating end in a pregnancy? No, when you're passionate about someone, when you want someone, strive to possess them, you don't think about offspring at that moment. You're just thinking about - desire. The desire for intimacy is nothing but the desire of flesh for flesh.

She was so close to him that he swallowed, feeling her warmth again. The Archmage could smell her scent, the one he had missed in his excitement. The scent of rich, warm caramel and violets. Each of her words was like an incantation, filled with intense attraction. Each part of the sorceress' speech was more enticing than the last. She began to whisper to him:

— And if you're not a virgin, you know exactly how it feels. You know how your heart starts racing when you smell the scent of the one you desire. You know how your breath hitches just thinking about it. How your hands start to shake and your tongue starts to slip when you're afraid of scaring her off and making a fool of yourself. The way your knees tremble, the way your forehead sweats. You know - she whispered provocatively into his pointed ear.

— Tav, I... - he stammered, unable to find the words to express his thoughts. No sooner had he risen from the ashes, from these ruins of his life, than life took a completely different turn.

She ran her tongue invitingly over his lobe and continued:

— You know how your blood rushes and you blush, you know how your throat dries up when you realise that the lustful intentions are mutual. You feel your pulse racing.

— Tav, if you don't stop now, I'll... - The tension between his desire and his mind was at its peak. It controlled him like a puppeteer controlling his marionette. Rolan clawed and clawed at the table. Of course he wanted her, but he still doubted the reality and rightness of what was happening.

Tav didn't think to stop. She ran her lips along his neck and placed her hands on his chest:

— You know the way your flesh heats up and your hands reach for your partner. You know the burning sensation that hides in the pit of your stomach. You know the sensual sounds you'll elicit from each other. You know the hurricane that will break out between you. You long to taste it on your tongue. You long to touch and penetrate every cell. - She nibbled at the skin of his red, freckled neck with her moist lips, making him moan.

— Zurgan! I won't be able to stop if you keep do this - he said with a heaviness in every word. He still hesitated. Could he take what he wanted so easily now? But there was not an ounce of falsehood in Tav's mouth. Her words sounded selfless. She wanted him?

— You know exactly how it is, Rolan. I think I made it clear. Leave all your secrets in my body. - She let out a moan of anticipation and unbuttoned his shirt, running her hand down a torso too pumped for a wizard. Every infernal ridge sent a ripple through her hand as she moved.

The next moment, Rolan pulled his hands from the table with force and moved them to her cheeks, pulling her to him for a passionate kiss. And finally closed her babbling, lewd mouth. His chaos erupted as the tension cracked.

— I tried to warn you, but you wouldn't listen. - He growled, no longer hiding his intentions. His tail wrapped around her legs with such force that she had to work harder to get free.

Tav started to answer, but Rolan cut her off by placing his hand on her chin and covering her mouth with his thumb, which she immediately licked.

— I tried to warn you. Now hush you! - the archmage said, enjoying the jam of her lips. Their searching tongues collided again and again. His hands slid boldly down her back, claws carving shallow scratches.

The room filled with moans, the sound of their breathing and the rustling of pages scattered across the floor. On which they now stomped, almost losing their balance, searching for a foothold.

Rolan lifted Tav in his arms and laid her carelessly, barbarically, on the cushions. The Tiefling piled on top of her, pressing her hard and unrestrained against him. Pulling off the top of her dress, he clung to Tav's chest, like for ice cream on a hot summer day.

In that dense oasis of intimacy, his hand slid down to her throbbing clit. Which he could feel even through her underwear. He moved frequently, his hot fingertips sending shivers down her insides. The tension building up inside him was both tantalising and terrifying.

She wriggled and whimpered beneath him, and the Archmage couldn't stand it any longer. After all, it was her own fault for turning him on like that. Now that she was a whimpering piece of plasticine in his hands, he pulled his trousers down and then ripped Tav's panties off. Her little black lecherous panties. If they consisted of more than a couple of strips of thin fabric, they would have a chance of staying intact.. Rolan looked at her questioningly and she nodded in agreement with a wicked smile.

— Don't be greedy. - Tav said almost pleadingly.

The Archmage pulled aside the ribbons of her skirt and saw the mischievous sheen of her wetness. It beckoned and fascinated him, and the Typhling went straight for her entrance. Her heat rushed to his cock and he entered. All the foolishness of the world and his mind faded away in this gruelling desire.

We are entwined. We are your core desire, your flesh. Souls and bodies collide with terrible heat. Forget the shame in common nature. Leave me to my sins.

Oh, nature's gift to the Tiefling. The velvety skin of his thick cock was adorned with infernal ridges. It moved rigidly to and fro in a wild animal rhythm, and there was no other way. Rolan held her hips with his tail, pressing her hungrily against him. Tav shivered and wriggled beneath him, savouring the heat of his body now in all her innermost places.

Tav literally felt every spark that Rolan shot out of her body. Every now and then a moan escaped her lips. She was on edge, but she couldn't let them climax for the sake of concentration. To get the tiefling's attention, she grabbed his hair, pulled him towards her and bit his lower lip, pulling away before letting go.

— Rolan now. Right now. - She murmured.

— What, you already? - he squeezed out the words, uncomprehending, mixed with deep, hoarse sounds from the bottom of his throat.

— No, I haven't! For now, focus and concentrate all your attention. Gather all the energy of that instinct and cast the spell. Direct it at me, there is no one else. - she found it hard to think and speak in this position, but what one would do for the sake of learning and science.

Rolan realised what she wanted from him, but it was not easy to interrupt such an intimate and exciting process. It was a challenge to remember the theory, the verbal and somatic components of the spell. With an effort of will, he gradually slowed his rhythm, regained his focus and control of the situation.

— Try it now, come on. Concentrate on the sensations. - Tav insisted.

The tower master breathed in the scent of her hair and closed his eyes. He concentrated on the sensation that filled his entire being. He made the necessary gestures, his fingers swirling in the air like snowflakes. Rolan tried to cast the spell again, focusing all his passion on the target. This time the magical energy flowed through him and he felt the spell begin to form.

His magic affects those around her, mesmerising them, bending their will and changing their beliefs.

A glowing aura appeared around Rolan and he directed the flow towards Tav. She, the target of the spell, began to move like a doll under the influence of an unseen force. At his command, she picked up the pillow and threw it aside.

— It worked! - Tav rejoiced as only a teacher can for his pupil. - You did it!

— I really did it! - the inspired Rolan laughed, baring his frequent fangs.

But the next moment, when he remembered the position they were in and how they'd got there, he was embarrassed, his yellow eyes rounded:

— We? I'm sorry if... - He started to get off her in a hurry.

— I have nothing to forgive you for. It's all right. I wouldn't do anything I didn't want to. - She stopped him by grabbing his arm. Tav threw her head back and looked up from underneath him, playfully nudging him with her hips - You know, we don't have to stop.

The Tiefling replied with a cheeky smile and a sizzling look:

— Faz'iam quodzum volu'rit dilectus me magizta. - He spoke in infernal and Tav had a moment of doubt about her proposal.

Seeing her confusion, Rolan hurried to translate:

— Whatever my teacher desires.

[cordeliatheodoro]

Things I learned over my 5 years as a chronically ill person:

Obs: I have some kind of illness that's similar to Chron's disease, but like, not as bad. It still impacts my life in more ways than I ever expected, including fucking up my liver and mental health. Anyway;

Eating the "wrong" thing is better than not eating - when you have an illness that affects your appetite, the best course of action, in my experience, is to eat what you feel like eating. If that means having a jar of cookies for lunch, it's completely fine. Eat what you know your body will accept, because that's better than not eating anything or having your body reject what you eat.

Body fat = healthy - this is specific to my case, but I was just skin and bones before getting the right treatment. Even if I might feel bad because beauty standarts, getting enough weight and body fat to the point I became a midsized person (after years of being a walking skeleton) is something that should be celebrated. It means I'm eating enough and my body is becoming healthier.

You gain a hell of a pain tolerance - remember how I said my liver is fucked up? It means whenever I take painkillers, my stomach becomes a rebelious teen and tries to kill me. A.K.A, nausea, and actually throwing up if the medicine is too strong. I've learned to endure pain in order to not need painkillers, or to only take them if it becomes too much.

Kiss many adult experiences goodbye - Taking more than two sips of alcohol is a no-no, and don't even thing about drugs. I'm always the sober friend, which is not bad per se, but I would like it more if it was a choice.

You will be known as the sick friend (if you're the only one in the group) - I got sick at 12/13 and only got treatment for it at 16, so high school was HellTM. Get used to people asking if you're feeling alright everytime time your face moves two milimiters, and to cancel plans because you're sick. It also makes flirting with your crush harder, because they might see you as fragile (seems like people don't find you sexy if they know you have intestine problems).

Antidepressants are not exclusive for people with depression - Did you know the intestines are considered the second brain? Anyway, I was prescribed antidepressants (that also work as anxiety medication) to help with my chronic illness, and honestly, it kinda works.

Hope is good but don't hope too much - sounds depressing, but at least in my case, seems to be true. Things get better, and with the right treatment, you'll have a good life and achieve yours dreams, and overcome many, many symptoms and difficulties. And I really don't like thinking about it, but I know that this is probably my case, and it's a fact: I will never be 100% healthy again. Not like how I was before.

You won't have all the answers you want - I have an illness that's names, in my mother language, as "Indeterminate". It means doctors are not able to know how it developed, why it developed, if there's a cure, and how to treat it. The treatment I went through can only be described as "fuck around and find out". So yeah, sometimes you just have to accept there are no answers.

Anyway, this was depressing as shit, but I needed to get it off my system. To all my chronically ill siblings: hold on tight! We can do it!

[could-they-beat-donald-duck]

So let's get this out of the way because I'm sure this blog is giving you many questions, namely why and how?

Well the short answer for why is that it's something I've been thinking about for a very long time and honestly I really need a creative outlet. As for the how? Hoo boy it is genuinely shocking how powerful Donald Duck is if you put in the research. To start, he served in the navy meaning he has at the very least basic combat and firearms training. On top of that he has standard toon physics which are unique to most western animated characters which means he can easily shrug off most attacks that would normally hospitalize people including being cut in half, taking explosions point-blank, falling from indeterminately tall heights.

He also has been shown to draw upon a berserker rage which can amplify his strength and speed to monstrous levels as is often showcased in classic cartoons but was given the most focus in the 2017 Ducktales cartoon in which his rage was often the deciding factor in the matchups he was subject to throughout the show. But that's only scratching the surface because his strength rockets from a provincial threat to a world threat if we choose to take his Kingdom Hearts incarnation into account. Donald from Kingdom Hearts is a powerful spellcaster with an arsenal of offensive spells reaching up to the -za level in terms of power including the very powerful Flare and its variants which is considered an "Ultimate" spell. Already an impressive feat in itself but Square Enix decided to massively buff this duck in Kingdom Hearts III where it was revealed he is capable of casting the spell Zettaflare. Zettaflare is a spell on a level unseen in any other Square Enix game and the only other person to use it was drawing directly from the power of the dragon god Bahamut. Now granted, casting that spell took enough energy out of Donald to make him fall unconscious but the very fact he was able to cast it already places him as one of the strongest Black Magic users Square Enix has ever created. Because of the shocking level of power displayed by Kingdom Hearts Donald, most of these matchup analyses will be divided into "Could they beat regular Donald" and "Could they beat Kingdom Hearts Donald." Lastly despite the level of seriousness with which I take these matchups, always remember at the end of the day that this blog is not meant to be taken seriously and has a miniscule amount of bias. If the difference in power between Donald and an opponent is close, and I think it would be funnier to see Donald Duck emerge victorious, I am more likely to lean in his favour. Just remember that none of these characters are real, nor are any of these scenarios likely, so please don't get upset with me if your favourite character is just objectively weaker than Donald Duck.

[xxrainshadowsxx]

Interpersonal Chapter 16

So... what do you do when you learn your boyfriend has been committing eco-terrorism?

You’re not sure how long you cry for. Time does not exist. At some point, you think Aurora asks if you want to go to the hospital to see him one last time, but you vehemently reject that idea. You don’t want your last memory of him to be of him in a coma.

Onceler’s there for you the entire time, never saying anything, never leaving, just being present and holding you together, both figuratively and literally. The only time he leaves your side is to grab you a glass of water once you cried yourself hoarse. You can’t fathom how you could have ever gotten through this without him.

And after the worst of it was all over, all you knew is that you were exhausted. Instead of leaving you to sleep on your own, he still stayed with you in case you needed him; he let you lay down on his chest, the steady cadence of his heartbeat rocking you into a blissful state of unawareness….

“How is she?” You vaguely register Aurora’s voice an indeterminate amount of time later, but you’re in no mood to acknowledge her or even lift your head; you’re far too comfortable and you’d much rather go back to sleep. But Onceler answers her, and the slight vibrations under your head means that more sleep isn’t going to happen just yet.

“I mean… she wasn’t okay. But I think she will be,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “I’m just doing my best to help her get through this, but I don’t know how good of a job I’m doing. I don’t have any experience grieving a family member.”

“I think you’re helping her more than you know,” Aurora tells him. “And you’re very lucky that you haven’t had anyone in your family who’s died yet. It fucking sucks.”

“Well that would mean I’d have to have family I cared about in the first place,” he mutters. “That used to bother me a lot, but then I met her. We’ve made a family together, and that’s the only one I need.” He says all this without a hint of embarrassment. He’s completely confident in what he feels for you.

“You really love her.” She doesn’t phrase it like a question, but he answers it like one anyway.

“Yeah. I do. She’s changed my whole life. At this point, I can’t imagine my life without her in it.” His arms tighten around you ever so slightly, and it’s all you can do to pretend you’re still asleep.

“Can I ask you something? And I need you to answer me honestly.” Oh fuck. She’s going to ask him the same thing she asked you at the hospital. And you absolutely have to hear his answer.

You assume he nods, because Aurora continues speaking. “Do you want to marry her?”

“Yes.” There’s not even a moment of hesitation. You let out the tiniest of squeaks that you pray to whoever’s listening that they didn’t hear. They continue like they don’t. “I want to spend the rest of my life with her. And I’m the luckiest man alive that I think she feels the same way.”

“Well good. She might not admit it, but I know she wants to get married. And I know you asked Dad for permission. I stalled as long as I could in the hall for you.” You can’t see her, but you can still hear the grin on her face.

“Er… yeah, I did,” he laughs nervously. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get it since he didn’t know me, but he said it was mine as long as I loved her, and I definitely do.”

“Well I know she loves you, and she’s never fallen in love with anyone before. And even more of a miracle, you got me to like you. Don’t fuck it up. She deserves all the love in the world and then some.”

“I don’t plan on ever leaving her. I want to give her the world,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair again. You hear Aurora leave as you try and process what you just heard.

He really did get your dad’s permission.

He… he wants to marry you!

And now you were going to have to pretend like you didn’t know anything. It was going to be utter agony.

But it was going to be so worth it on the other side. Because now, after hearing it from him, you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you also wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. In a strange way, you’ve always known. Ever since he’d come into your life, you couldn’t fathom your world without him in it.

You’re only able to feign sleep for about twenty or so more minutes when you can’t take it anymore. You pretend to stir, pushing yourself off of Onceler’s chest. Smiling doesn’t exactly come naturally to you at the moment, but you manage to give him a small one before snaking your arms around him.

“Thank you… for everything,” you murmur. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” He doesn’t know it, but you mean it in so many more ways than just him helping you cope with your father’s death.

“Of course love,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “Anything you need, I’ll be here for you. God knows you’ve helped me more than enough. Do you want something to eat? Water?”

“I’m okay,” you decide for now. “Honestly, I just want to get out of this bed and stretch my legs.” He releases his hold on you, and you make your way out to the small living room where Aurora is folding laundry.

“Hey,” she says with a little smile. She walks over and pulls you into a tight hug. “I know you were awake,” she whispers. “So if you had any doubts left about him, hope I just killed them.” She pulls away, giving no hint about the bomb she just dropped, while you can only pray your own face isn’t bright crimson.

You sit on the couch and try to focus on the TV instead, but get another shock when you see yourself on it. Aurora’s put on some sort of celebrity gossip show, albeit on mute, and they’ve clearly started talking about you and Onceler from his party (how was that only two days ago?). 

You lunge for the remote to unmute it, but another hand grabs it before you can. You look up and see that it’s him. “They don’t matter,” he reminds you before turning the thing off.

“There was something I wanted to talk to you about anyway,” Aurora interjects. “How long can you stay for?”

“I got a week off,” you say absentmindedly, still eyeing the TV maliciously. You’d emailed your work on the flight here, and they’d thankfully been very understanding of your situation.

“Okay, good. That should give us enough time to get together Dad’s funeral, and then you can fly home after that… I assume? I don’t know how the fuck private jets work. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you’re rich as fuck now,” she muses.

“Oh no. I’m not rich. He’s rich. There’s a difference,” you emphasize. You had no claim to a cent he made unless he did marry you and you decided to combine finances. There was a lot to talk about if he did end up popping the question soon–he’d probably want a prenup, how big of a spectacle did you want to make this, and of course, you couldn’t avoid talking about kids forever.

But one step at a time. No matter what you heard, this was his decision to make, and when to make it. But you just rest easy knowing that it would come in time. And you would say yes when it did.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A couple weeks after you got back, you were still processing how different your life was. While your daily life hadn’t changed much, there was still the psychological difference of knowing both of your parents were gone.

You were also reeling from the madhouse that had been your dad’s funeral, which Onceler was still apologizing for, even though it hadn’t been his fault at all. Your hometown was small, as he’d learned, and because of that everyone knew you. And due to him being an internationally known celebrity, everybody was also aware that you were dating him. Aurora had foreseen danger and had asked for no pictures at the funeral.

Someone hadn’t listened. They had taken a picture of the two of you coming in, posted it on social media, and by time you tried to leave a few hours later, there were paparazzi swarmed outside, clearly not caring that it might be a sensitive time for you.

And as if unannounced, unexpected journalists weren’t bad enough, one of them had sneezed, nearly directly in your face. It hadn’t hit you, but it was close enough to catch whatever he had, so you’d come home with a nasty bacterial infection. Thankfully, your doctor had given you medication that had cleared it up almost right away. You’d been feeling fine for days now, and had taken your last antibiotic that morning.

You’re making your way to Onceler’s office for lunch as you usually do. It was gray outside, an omnipresent color in the sky since you’d gotten back to Thneedville. The air itself seemed bad, too, but you didn’t know what that could be. The city probably just needed a good rainshower.

As you step into the building, almost immediately you can tell something is wrong. There’s no one around. It’s as silent as a graveyard. He hadn’t answered your texts that morning, but that was normal. You’d assumed he was just busy. This silence, this emptiness… this definitely isn’t normal.

You take off at a run in the direction of his office, your footsteps echoing loudly. You have an awful feeling in the pit of your stomach. If something happened to him…

As you turn the corner, you see his new PA stepping out into the hall, looking confused and a little disturbed. “What happened? Why isn’t anyone here? Is he okay?” you fire off, making him look more disturbed than ever.

“Um… I-I really don’t know,” he stammers. “He was his usual self most of the morning, and then like half an hour ago he started going around yelling at everyone to go home. He’s been talking to himself, looking stressed… no one knows what’s going on. He’s still in there.”

You don’t need to hear anymore. Something had happened, and you needed to find out what that something was immediately. You push open the now familiar oak doors, eyes searching him out.

He’s at the very back of his office, turned away from you. He seems to be arguing with someone just outside the door that’s back there, but you can’t see who it is, nor can you make out any individual words. “Baby? Are you okay?” you call.

He spins around towards you, his face stark white. Apparently, he hadn’t heard you come in, and didn’t realize what time it was. There’s a gruff voice you don’t recognize coming from outside calling for his attention, but he slams the door on them unceremoniously. “What are you doing here?” he yells, his tone harsh and unfamiliar.

You take a step back. He’s never used that tone with you before, and you don’t like it at all. “Excuse me?” you ask, your own voice low and dangerous. You’ll give him exactly one chance to fix his mistake.

At least he does seem to realize he fucked up. “I… uh…” He’s floundering for words like you’ve never seen before. “Why are you here? You shouldn’t be here!” he ends up spouting out, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“That was the wrong fucking answer,” you accuse. “You absolutely do not get to speak to me like that. What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing,” he says way too quickly and with a faker smile than you’d ever seen before. It’s like he wasn’t even trying to be convincing, and you don’t buy it for a second.

“There’s no one here, you were clearly arguing with someone outside, and your PA said this only started about half an hour ago. I’m not an idiot, Oncie, I know something had to have happened.” He flinches at the use of your pet name for him, and you notice that all of the sudden he looks terrified. You walk up to him and take his hands, trying a different approach now. “Baby, please tell me. Maybe I can help you,” you implore.

He says nothing, but grips your hands so tightly that it’s almost painful. You just wait. If it’s a contest of patience, you’re determined to win.

The phone shrieks, breaking both of you of your concentration. He looks at you for a moment, then lunges for it, but for once, you’re quicker than him. “Yes?” you say as you answer it.

“You’re there?” One of his lawyers is on the other end, sounding like they’re suffering from a cold sweat instead of being cool and confident. “You need to get out of there now. For your own safety. The forests–” The line suddenly goes dead, and you look around in bewilderment.

You find him standing right next to you, the phone cord in his hand. He’s unplugged it. Whatever had happened, he didn’t want you to know. Dread begins to fill you.

“What happened with the forests?” you whisper, though you’re not sure you want an answer. His eyes go wide, both with fear and anger, but he stays stubbornly silent. “What happened to the forests?” you shout, nearly at the point of hysteria.

Your eyes wander behind his desk, where the curtain is covering the window that shows the forests. A horrifying realization suddenly hits you. He’d closed that curtain right when you’d started dating him. You’d never seen it open since. Which meant this had been in the works for months now. The length of your entire relationship, at the very least.

You dash over to the curtain, but before you make it, his arm is around your waist, preventing you from getting any farther. You whip your head around to look him dead in the face. “Don’t you dare touch me,” you hiss. He drops his arm slowly, and behind his eyes you can see the gravity of the terrible wound you’ve just inflicted upon him. But you have to know.

You make your way to the curtains, unhindered now, and throw them open.

You almost can't believe the sight of devastation that greets you. The last time you'd looked out this window, the view was of a lush valley, trufulla trees as far as the eye could see. Now, there was nothing but ragged stumps, smog, and the occasional axe head on the ground. And it wasn't just the trees that were gone. Every plant was dead, down to the last blade of grass. 

You slowly turn back to face him. "What did you do?" you whisper. You want him to refute you. You want him to deny it. But the look of guilt on his face is admission enough.

And the deforestation, as awful as it is, isn't even the worst part. You had to confront the other truth, the one you'd begun to suspect several minutes ago and were all but sure of now. "You never intended to tell me, did you?" you ask in a flat, dead voice.

Instead of answering, he just deflates, and your chest starts to physically ache. It fucking killed you to see him, usually so proud, charming, even a little cocky, so broken and defeated. You loved this man. What the hell were you supposed to do?

You once again have to be the one to break the silence after several minutes of it have passed. "What do you want me to say? What the hell were you thinking, doing this? And worse, not telling me?"

"I didn't want to worry you with my problems," he finally mumbles. "These were my own issues. They shouldn't have been your burdens as well."

You shake your head in disbelief. "That's the whole point of a relationship," you growl. "The other person is there to help you when you need it. I thought you understood that. I let you see me at my most vulnerable. But you couldn't trust me to do the same."

"No, that's not it," he desperately tries to explain, sounding like he's close to tears. "You were helping me so much, you were my world, you still are my world. I just didn't want to pile on more of my baggage and have you decide I wasn't worth it anymore. It's not that I don't trust you. Darling… please."

You sit at his desk and bury your head in your hands, hot tears stinging the back of your own eyes. You can hardly bear staying in this room; you feel it suffocating you. Some of your best memories had occurred right here, but they were all tainted now. You hated it.

After several more minutes, you finally look back up at him. "It's not your trust that's the problem anymore," you rasp, so close to tears. He's hitting you with those big puppy dog eyes that have enabled him to get his way so many times in the past. Your resolve wavers and you have to disconnect. You have an almost out-of-body experience as you hear yourself say, "The trust that matters now is mine. Because you have completely broken it."

At your words, you do see a few tears fall from his eyes. It seems like he's understanding the weight of the situation now, but it still left one question. You didn't want to address it. You wanted to say you could forgive him, that you could work through this. But when your trust had been so utterly decimated like this… you weren't sure you could say that.

Even the thought makes you let out a dry sob. It hurts. Oh God, it fucking hurts. Because no matter what he had done, it remained that you had loved him, and you loved him still. Whatever became of you after today, the fact that you love him would never go away.

"I think… I think I need some space," you breathe out, and his entire body language changes from penitent to frantically fearful faster than a traffic light.

"No! I can't lose you!" he begs. "Needing space is always another way of saying breaking up. Darling… I love you, I can't lose you." You say nothing, not trusting yourself with something as delicate as words. You just stand and head towards the door, but start in alarm when he grabs your hand, whirling you around to face him. "I love you," he repeats, tears streaming freely down his face now. "And I didn't want to do it like this but…" 

You have no clue what he means by that, but he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a simple black case before throwing himself down on one knee at your feet. No, no, no, not now, he can't be doing this now…

But then he opens the case and there sits a stunningly pretty ring. The band is gold, with small diamonds decorating it, finishing off with a larger but not over the top round diamond in the center. It's gorgeous, not gaudy, and exactly your style.

"I know I fucked up," he murmurs. "But I don't want to lose you. I've been planning this for weeks now. I-I want to marry you."

You're stunned into silence. You'd been imagining this moment ever since you'd learned he'd asked your dad. You didn't know if he'd go for some big, romantic gesture, or if he'd be so nervous he'd trip over his words in that endearing way of his.

But in all of your imaginations, one thing remained constant: your reaction. You'd always pictured yourself elated with glee, saying yes before he could even get the whole question out. Never did you think there would be a possibility where you might turn him down. Or that it would hurt this much.

You would have said yes yesterday.

You would have said yes fifteen minutes ago.

You still want to say yes. There's still a very large part of you that wants to ignore the past few minutes and all you'd learned, put that ring on, and work things out. 

But for some reason, you couldn't make yourself do it. Why couldn't you? You wanted to work things out. You wanted to fight for this. He was worth it. Your whole relationship was worth it.

But the fact that you couldn't trust him reared its ugly head once more. And if you couldn't trust him, you couldn't marry him. You needed time to heal, process everything, and truly think about where you wanted to go from here.

You couldn't do that with his ring on your finger.

It kills you to do it. But you feel yourself shaking your head once before ducking away, running out of the office so you wouldn't have to face his heartbreak as well as your own. You knew you'd change your mind if you were forced to confront the damage you did to him. It was cowardice on your part, but it was the truth.

It takes every ounce of willpower you possess to make it out of the building and not run back to him. When you finally get outside, you're almost jarred by the fact that it isn't raining. Isn't that how it always happens in movies? Your life had been like a movie, like a fairytale, for the past year. It would have been morbidly poetic, and yet fitting, for it to end like one as well.

Movie or not, rain or not, nothing could have stopped you from falling to your knees, and then to your hands as well a minute later, taking deep gasping breaths as your whole self tries to vehemently reject what your mind knows to be true. How could he do this? Didn't he love you? At what point did you not become enough for him that he felt like he couldn't share everything with you?

You're starting to get a headache now, feeling like you might get relief if you could only start to cry. But your grief seems to be beyond tears. Within the span of a month, you've lost your father, your future… and now you might have just lost the love of your life as well. 

You don't know how long you stay on that sidewalk, gasping for air. Time is inconsequential. All you know is the crippling ache of drowning in an ocean of despair, with no end in sight.

I'm so sorry. But before you all come after me with your torches and pitchforks, I just have to say, this isn't the end. We still have a few more chapters to go.

[instantinternetcrush]

i think to myself quite often that i miss the early days. but i find it to be mostly inaccurate, i miss the every day. i miss showing up at your job, and hearing you yell my name from behind the counter. sitting at the table and bantering about phone service. bringing you lunch, and defiling the back room. i miss our inside jokes, the games, the way you smiled and how it felt like it was just for me.

i miss the love we never gave a name. i miss laying my head in your lap, sneaking away and going on walks. i miss kissing your cheek when no one was looking, watching movies in my bed with your arm around my shoulders.

i miss saturday mornings after you slept over on fridays. i miss getting to be silly. planning the revolution over whiskey and drake. sharing everything like it were trivial. saying goodbye forever, halfway quoting the princess bride.

talking sports and feeling so inconsequentially small, yet so seen and loved regardless. your sleepy kisses and our traditions. kissing the scars on your collar and the way your teeth felt on my neck.

feeling smarter than the apes, gossiping and bickering over who would or would not buy dinner. being the evil twins. watching him pretend not to know that you were the guy i talked about whenever they asked about my love life.

you were, still are, my best worst kept secret. the answer to the prayers i never said aloud. the james to my jesse, bonnie and clyde, princess bubblegum and marceline. best friend first and lover second.

i know its both of our faults. i know that you hated the fact it was never really about the sex as much as i did. i’ve never met a person who i genuinely considered to be my equal before you. that’s probably the low empathy talking, but you said the same thing to me once.

is it as hard for you as it is for me? do you go through town and remember being called ghosts? sleeping on their floor like it was a twin bed? do you remember our not dates? see a movie title added to the marquee in town and remember that we promised to watch it together?

most nights you’re in my dreams. i call you a witch when i wake up. half accusing you, half remembering that other promise you made.

i still think about another life. maybe one where we didn’t fuck everything up so royally. maybe one where we never met, or met better. i know in some parallel universe i find you on the shore of lake michigan, skipping stones. in some other world our stars align in the real way, not just on the chart or in the full moon.

i really do honestly believe you now. cosmopolitan magazine says we’re in the separation stage now. that we’ll reunite again in an indeterminate number of years. you’ll find me with a better haircut and acceptance.

i still feel your absence in a way i never cared about with anyone else. i’m still terrified of intimacy.

the songs don’t sound the same anymore.

[hannaday81]

9-1-1 Fancfic Recs!

Evan "Buck" Buckley + Eddie Diaz = Buddie

alasse

always a space in my heart (for you) *Finished

Buck and Eddie meet at a Special Forces conference when Buck is finishing the first phase of his SEAL training and unsure if he can keep going, and Eddie is giving a talk on being a combat medic, feeling overwhelmed. They cross paths, go get breakfast, give each other necessary advice, and exchange contact details. Their long-distance (and sometimes not so long-distance) friendship doesn’t change everything, but they have each other’s backs sooner—and that changes enough.

allyasavedtheday

17 Steps to Inevitability *Oneshot

“Thanks for clearing it with Cap,” he says lowly, feeling oddly self-conscious under Buck’s knowing gaze. Because just Buck shrugs like it’s not a big deal, claps him on the shoulder and squeezes once. “Of course,” he says earnestly. “I told you he wouldn’t mind.” Eddie swallows back an emotion he doesn’t know how to name and bumps their shoulders together as they head for the stairs. He’d forgotten friendship could be like this, forgotten what the unconditional support of having a team around him felt like. He’s not sure he’s ever had friends like this though. Eddie doesn't plan for Buck to become part of his and Christopher's family; it just sort of happens. He doesn't plan to fall in love with Buck either; that just sort of happens too.

a touch of someone else (to save me from myself) *Finished

Of course, all of that comes to a grinding halt when he stops outside the locker room to find arguably one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen getting changed right by his locker. He stands there, gaping and trying desperately to get his mind out of the gutter – but Jesus, those abs – when someone bumps his shoulder and he turns to find Hen sidling up to him. “Enjoying the view?” she asks with a knowing smirk. Buck raises an eyebrow, feeling the corners of his mouth turn up in a smirk of his own. “He from B shift or something?” Hen’s about to answer him when Bobby appears on his other side. “That’s Eddie Diaz, our new recruit.” Buck’s brain does some approximation of a record scratch and he whirls around to face Bobby. “New recruit? Why?” In which Eddie joins the 118 during season 1 instead of season 2 and Buck has a lot to say about it. AKA Eddie meets Buck 1.0.

an inch away from more than just friends *Oneshot

“I think Eddie’s in love with me.” She gapes at him, mouth working for a response that doesn’t come until Chimney beats her to it. “Eddie’s what?” Maddie claps her mouth shut, stepping aside to let Buck through. Chimney’s on the floor in the living room with Jee playing with her tea set. “You’re not involved in this conversation,” Buck says, pointing at him. “It’s your fault in the first place for even putting the idea in my head.”Maddie apparently finally finds her voice, appearing at Buck’s side and looking between them. “I’m sorry, what? How did Chim put the idea in your head?” “Him and Hen!” Buck exclaims, waving a hand. “They told me I should pay attention to how much Eddie wants to be around me. “And you took that to mean he’s in love with you?” Chimney asks incredulously.

Buy Back the Secrets *Finished

He casts his gaze to the right, to the voice he’d heard a minute ago and the hand still on his shoulder. And, well. Okay. So Buck may have just been unconscious for an indeterminable length of time but he doesn’t think he’s exaggerating when he says the guy leaning over his bedside is one of the most attractive people he’s seen in a long time. Especially when his face splits into a smile that rivals the brightness of the hospital lights that almost just fucking blinded Buck a second ago. “Welcome back, hotshot,” the guy says and it sounds fond – familiar – and Buck honestly has no idea who this guy is. His brown hair is dishevelled on top of his head and his eyes look tired but then Buck notices the LAFD t-shirt so- alright. Someone from the firehouse, maybe? But he’s pretty sure he’d remember a face like that. After getting hurt on a call, Buck wakes up thinking it's 2018. AKA Buck can't remember who Eddie is but he's pretty sure everyone's lying when they say they're "just friends."

come out to the sea, my love *Oneshot

Tsunami au in which the 118 find out about Buck and Chris being stranded on top of the ladder truck and come to rescue them before they get separated.

if i'm honest, it felt like love *Oneshot

“I- it felt good, right? And neither of us are really in a place to want to date right now but maybe. You said you needed comfort so maybe that’s all it has to be?” “You mean this could be a…regular thing?” Eddie looks confused but not at all opposed to the idea which is more than Buck expects, honestly. He nods. “Just. When we need it, y’know? Because I don’t want to go back to how I was before but sometimes it’s nice. To spend the night with someone. Or- or be close with someone. And I trust you. I mean, you’re my best friend.” The few seconds it takes Eddie to think it over feel like the longest of Buck’s life but then his grip tightens imperceptibly on Buck’s waist and he nods. “I don’t think I could imagine trusting anyone else with this right now.” Buck and Eddie try friends with benefits. It's great, easy, exactly what they need. Except for the fact they're in love with each other

it's always on the tip of my tongue *Oneshot

“You wanna talk about it?” Buck asks after a beat. He doesn’t drink his beer. Eddie doesn’t either. It’s a crutch, mostly. A pretence, so that if the conversation gets too deep, too fast they can blame it on the alcohol. Eddie appreciates it. As he thinks about Buck’s question he wonders where to start. He’s told Buck some of it, the important parts, but not- not what compelled him to do any of it in the first place. In the end, he can only think of one thing. Swallowing around the lump clogging his throat, he says, “I don’t think I know how to be in love anymore.” *Eddie Diaz vs the Great Romance Paradigm.

Look How They Align *Finished -NEW

The guy is standing with his back to him in front of an open locker. He’s in the middle of changing and Buck doesn’t mean to gawk but then the guy turns to the side and- That’s definitely the hot dad from Sophie’s school. “Uh Carla,” he says vaguely, not entirely sure he hasn’t interrupted her. “I’ll have to call you back." He drops his phone back down by his side before she has a chance to reply, staring in dumbfounded bewilderment as Eddie Diaz pulls an LAFD shirt over his – very chiselled – chest. “You know it’s rude to stare.” Buck jumps, snapping his neck to the side to see Hen approaching. “Do we need to get you laid?” she asks bluntly. “Should Karen and I take you out this weekend? I mean, first that dad at the kids’ school and now the new guy? Come on, Buck. Close your mouth.” He splutters, tries to muster up some indignation at Hen’s comment, but then he catches sight of Eddie again, now buttoning up his over-shirt and instead all he can manage is- “That is the hot dad from the kids’ school.” * In which Buck has a crush on the hot dad of the new kid in his daughter's class. The hot dad who also happens to be his new co-worker.

ashavahishta

Always, All Ways *Finished

“Buck is very dear, Mr Diaz. Not only to me but to the pack. You’ll find that if you treat him with anything less than utmost respect you’ll have a lot of people to answer to.”  Eddie swallowed. It was clear that in the absence of a mate, this omega had found himself a very protective pack. “Understood, sir.” Or: Buck’s the only omega in the 118. He’s got secrets, and walls a mile high. Eddie’s the alpha determined to knock them down.

Just Buck - Or, 5 Times Ana Realised Her Boyfriend Had A Boyfriend *Oneshot

Ana thinks she's found a great guy in Eddie Diaz. She only wishes he wasn't quite so close with his best friend.

autumnchills

to wash away the day *Oneshot

He reaches forward and grabs at his friend’s cold hands. He runs his thumbs over the tops of them, and when Buck casts his gaze away, he leans down to catch it again. “Hey,” Eddie whispers, bringing one hand up to his cheek. “Come back to me.” After the tsunami, Buck goes home with Eddie and Christopher, and Eddie is going to make sure Buck gets the shower he needs, even if it means he needs to give it to the man himself.

brewrosemilk

still *Oneshot

For the first time, Buck longs for a bullet wound to treat. Dirt to dig at. A door to break through. Something. There’s nothing. “Your guess was correct, Diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “You’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. Don’t shift. When you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it." Inspired by Castle, S05E22: Still

calvingseason

dreamin' with the lights on *Oneshot

“Uh, that’s not all,” Eddie says, before he loses his nerve. “I was hoping you’d come as my—partner.” He winces as soon as the words leave his mouth, because genuinely, this is the stupidest goddamn idea. Shannon is probably cackling wherever she is over the fact that Eddie is acting the man he is very tragically in love with to be his—fucking fake boyfriend, or something, just to avoid the attention of some PTA parents. Buck blinks at him. “Are you—you want to pretend to be in a relationship to get Heather Paul off your back?” he asks, fingers squeezing around Eddie’s pulse point a little. or, eddie asks buck to come to christopher’s parent-teacher conference with him as his boyfriend. it’s fine. really.

carpediaz

Tell Me It's Okay to Be Happy Now (Because I'm Happy Now) *Oneshot -NEW

Eddie keeps messaging. They keep hooking up. Eddie keeps choosing Buck, even though he could easily have anyone he wanted – and Buck knew well the kinds of people who were on Tinder (and Grindr, and Hinge, and what-the-fuck-ever). There are dozens of guys who would sell their mother for a night (an hour, a blow job in a dirty bathroom stall, a hand job on a crowded dancefloor) with Eddie. But Eddie keeps choosing Buck. And each time he does Buck knows it will be worse when Eddie decides he’s had enough. or The one where Buck 1.0 meets Eddie on a dating app.

cnomad

finding our way (back home) *Fiinished

When Eddie left the 118, he promised Buck that nothing would change. But six weeks later, things were strained between them as Eddie tried to adjust to his new role at dispatch while Buck decided to take a major step forward in his relationship. After a series of revelations forced Buck and Eddie to confront what they really wanted out of life, it was up to them to find their way back to each other. Back home.

ColorMeParanoid

What's love got to do with it? *Finished

"Hear me out," Buck said. "Clearly, both of us are sick of dating other people. And we're a good fit, in pretty much every way that matters. So what if we're not in love? We don't need to be in love to be happy together." Eddie frowned. "So basically, we'd be boyfriends, without benefits?" "Yes!" Buck snapped his fingers. "Like platonic boyfriends! We'd get all the benefits of a relationship and none of the heartbreak." And maybe Eddie had finally lost his mind, or maybe it was from all the alcohol clouding his judgment, but the idea of it didn't sound half as crazy as it should have. After Buck’s and Eddie’s dates both end with disasters – proving once again that maybe dating just wasn’t meant for them – they decide to simply settle for each other. If there was one person in the world they'd ever trust with their hearts, it was each other. And who was a better person to date other than your very own best friend?

coupe_de_foudre

hit the jackpot *Oneshot

“I’m your husband.” “You’re my husband? Holy shit!”

need you to show me love *Oneshot

“Eddie.” the guy suddenly says, throwing Buck off guard. “My name.” he clarifies. “I don’t wanna make a habit of hooking up with guys I don’t know the name of.”

Daisies_and_Briars

Promising Light *Oneshot -NEW

Buck and Eddie fall asleep drunk and in separate rooms after the night of Buck and Tommy's breakup. They wake up seven years later, in an unfamiliar future, only to find out that they're married.

dannyuta

NFWMB *Oneshot

“Hey!” Eddie’s voice barks from behind Buck. Buck jumps, but then Eddie is there, wedging himself between Buck and the man, who was trying to crowd himself into Buck’s space. “Back up.” “Or what?”

DarkFairytale

Those Two Firefighters *Finished

#thosetwofirefighters starts to gather a following on social media, as everyone tries to figure out if those two cute firefighters from the 118 in LA are a thing or not.

Dark_Rosaleen

Ready-made Family *Finished -NEW

“Sure, I love the zoo.” Chris is saying with that perfectly adorable giggle that makes Eddie want to melt whenever he hears it—which is far too infrequently these days. “My dad takes me there all the time.” Eddie’s head snaps up at that, quick and sharp. His fingers go numb and he scrambles uselessly with the tongs as they fall with a loud clatter against the grill. Because Eddie can count the times he’s been to the zoo on one hand. It’s Buck who’s been taking Christopher there nearly once a week for years.

extasiswings

fire on fire *Oneshot

"You’re sleeping with him.” “I’m not—” Eddie rolls his eyes and corrects himself halfway through. “I’m not sleeping with him like that, okay?” Sophia looks at him for a long moment as her gaze turns from teasing to thoughtful. “But you want to be. Right?” [Or: Buck and Eddie get in the habit of sharing a bed while living together during quarantine. It's platonic until it isn't.]

Stuck on Fast Forward (Throw Away the Blueprint) *Finished

“Sounds like the problem is you think casual sex with a stranger or finding someone new to date are your only options.” Eddie’s brow furrows. “Aren’t they?” “I mean, there’s always…someone you already know. Who you’re already comfortable with.” “Because my pool of male friends who are single and who would be interested in having sex with me has so many options?” “Well, I don’t know about many, but you only need one,” Buck points out. “And who would that be?” “Me, of course.” [Or: Frank gives Eddie therapy homework, Eddie misunderstands the assignment, and Buck is just a really supportive friend...right?]

glorious_spoon

Here, Beneath My Lungs *Oneshot

“Okay, okay, come on, let’s do this,” Buck says, in a trying-to-be-serious tone that just sets Eddie off again. “Come on, we’re gonna do this right. You need the full Buckley Experience.” “Someone’s confident,” Eddie manages. “I know what I’m good at,” Buck says, and something about the way he says it—grinning and smug with laughter still leaking out of the edges of his smile—makes Eddie go still.

hetrez

Lifelines *Finished

Buck said, "Look, I'm sorry I overheard that because it's personal, and you should be able to decide who gets to have that part of you." Eddie came out of his hunch a little and looked him in the eyes, and Buck felt a zing of giddy accomplishment. It maybe made him stupid. "But to be honest, I'm really flattered that Pepa thought a punk like me could get a guy like you." Eddie's eyes went huge, and under the sodium lights Buck could see his ears turning red. Shit. Back off, back off, Buck told himself. He said, "I mean, you look like you know how to file your taxes," and immediately wanted to smack himself in the face. Just two strangers hanging out after a tsunami, talking about being in the closet.

iriswests

ripples all the way down *Finished

With some coercion, Buck allows Maddie to set him up on a date. Surprisingly, the date goes well — and it keeps his mind off the unnamable feelings he’s been studiously ignoring for his best friend. Until Christopher’s science report on gentoo penguins — no, seriously — sets off a series of events that has him somehow spending more time at the Diazes’ side, and he feels like he’s going just a little bit insane trying to juggle a burgeoning relationship, his jealousy over Eddie’s own new relationship with Ana, and his inability to move on from the place that’s been his for three years in the Diazes’ lives. Oh, and Eddie keeps looking at him like he has something to say — except he never says it. This is the tumultuous road to finding out what Buck truly wants, paved by pebbles. or; christopher partakes in some parent trapping

HMSLusitania

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) *Finished

“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says. “Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says. “I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies. “Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.” -- An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

iriswests

ripples all the way down *Finished

With some coercion, Buck allows Maddie to set him up on a date. Surprisingly, the date goes well — and it keeps his mind off the unnamable feelings he’s been studiously ignoring for his best friend. Until Christopher’s science report on gentoo penguins — no, seriously — sets off a series of events that has him somehow spending more time at the Diazes’ side, and he feels like he’s going just a little bit insane trying to juggle a burgeoning relationship, his jealousy over Eddie’s own new relationship with Ana, and his inability to move on from the place that’s been his for three years in the Diazes’ lives. Oh, and Eddie keeps looking at him like he has something to say — except he never says it. This is the tumultuous road to finding out what Buck truly wants, paved by pebbles. or; christopher partakes in some parent trapping

ithilien22

under the rocks and stones *Oneshot

Eddie wakes up one morning in a life that isn't his. It's... kind of nice.

justhockey

Feels like falling in love *Oneshot

It’s just - it’s too much, and not enough, and Eddie isn’t sure if he’s allowed to want more than this, but he does anyway. He wants everything with Buck. (Or, five times Eddie doesn’t mean to kiss Buck, and the one time he does.)

kithmet

something touched me (like a knife-blade) *Finished

“I feel fucking explosive, Buck. Like I’m about to go off at any second. I don’t want you caught in my mess.” His eyes sting. At the very least, Buck contains the sound of it in his voice. “Eddie, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he replies, “but I already am.” Eddie self-implodes. Christopher, seeking refuge, flees to Buck—whose priorities amount to, in varying order: take in the kid, get Eddie to talk to him, and keep the three of them afloat in the process. (Oh, and Tommy’s there too. He thinks.)

letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Leading with the Left *Finished

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico." And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?" In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

Never_x_Better

A little nudge or a giant shove *Finished -NEW

It was Claire, a girl in his class, who had first broached the subject, who had planted the very idea, which obviously meant all the scheming Christopher had done over the last month was entirely down to her. Besides he didn’t understand what his father could possibly be so upset about? He certainly hadn’t been complaining during their dates. In fact, given he hadn’t once thought to question the situations they found themselves in- even during the candle lit dinner, kind of said it all. His dad wanted Buck. or Chris gets involved in Eddie's dating life. What follows is a story of them falling deeper in love, and maybe finally realising it

Polish_Amber

the mortifying ordeal of being known*Finished

The thing was, the 118 was full of gossips. Eddie had been at the station less than a week before Hen and Chim wrangled details about his “hot young thing” from him (“Buck is only 4 years younger than me, he is not a ‘hot young thing’!” Eddie complained.) And Bobby was open about his worries for his son’s lack of direction and the secrets he appears to be keeping (“I just wish I could help Evan find the thing that gives him purpose,” Bobby lamented.) It just made it all the more ridiculous (and horrifying) when Eddie realizes he’s been dating his Captain’s son this whole time (“Defiling his baby,” Chimney cackled, because he clearly wanted Eddie murdered.) Or, the AU where miscommunication abounds as Eddie seeks advice about his new relationship, Bobby despairs over his adopted son's career prospects and his refusal to talk about it, and Evan Buckley-Nash juggles training at the fire academy, building a family with his new boyfriend, and trying to work out how to tell his overprotective dad that he's already chosen the life he wants, actually. It takes a goddamn tsunami, of all things, to get the story straight.

rarakiplin (gmontys)

darling, the future's better than yesterday *Oneshot

Eddie, ten years younger, in this awful 2010, blinks up at him. He's still sitting slumped on the curb, and for a second Buck thinks he might tell him to fuck off, but then his eyes fall shut and there’s something — aching and painfully vulnerable in the bend of his mouth, the faint tension in his brow. “My…um, girlfriend, I guess. She’s pregnant.” “Holy shit,” Buck says. or, buck deals with some wonky dimensional/time travel and then breaks up with his girlfriend. eddie, obviously, is involved.

RedRidingStiles

What If I Fall In Love Backwards? *Oneshot

"I feel like we should go save him," Chimney said as he and Hen loaded their drunk and injured patient into the back of the ambulance (day drinking and balconies do not mix), nodding his head towards the small swarm of college girls surrounding a highly uncomfortable Buck. "And by we I mean you, Eddie." "Yeah I got this," Eddie reassured, cupping one hand around his mouth before shouting, "Hey Buckley!" "What's up, Hot Stuff?" Buck called back, his eyes holding crystal blue relief as they met Eddie's across the lawn. Eddie tried to bite back his amused smile but didn't succeed when his next words had Buck grinning like a complete fool.

"You. Me. Tonight. Wear something pretty." "Edmundo Diaz, are you trying to ask me out on a date?" Or five Times Buck and Eddie saved each other by pretending to be together and the one time Christopher helps

spiritsontheroof

you’ve ruined my life by not being mine *Oneshot

Marisol clearly doesn’t know, she definitely doesn’t understand, and her brow furrows as she opens her mouth to probably ask another question about why Eddie’s deferring parenting to his single, childless best friend.

songbvrd

you're in my blood like holy wine *Finished -NEW

Christopher peered at him, his eyes bigger through his lenses. “Why?” Buck nearly choked. “Why? Why… what? I mean, I’m bisexual, if that’s what you’re—” “Oh, no.” Christopher shook his head, “I just meant, if you’re dating men, why aren’t you dating Dad?” Which simply did not help Buck’s choking problem. Buck really, truly had never pictured Eddie’s son asking him these questions, specifically why he wasn’t dating Eddie. “Uh— your Dad isn’t— we’re not—” “Oh.” A pause. “I don’t want you to date Dad.” OR - A 7x10 rewrite wherein which Christopher does NOT leave and Buck offers his apartment to Bobby and Athena.

Soph_Writes_118

Home is Where Our Story Begins *Finished

What if Buck had moved in with Eddie and Christopher after 4x07? Buck has been struggling with the loss of his safe space since Albert started dating Veronica. So Eddie suggests that he crash at his house for a couple of weeks to get some distance. No big deal right? So Buck takes him up on the offer, and it only comes as a surprise to them how perfectly he adapts to life with the Diaz boys. But when feelings make themselves known, it complicates everything...

Tattered_Dreams

The Space Between Sleep *Finished

As weeks pass after the Tsunami, Christopher has Eddie to help him deal with the scars it left behind. He also has Buck. Buck's dealing with his own demons, but he has both of them. Eddie's trying to keep them all together and finding out his family might not be as small as he thought. The 118 have their few cents to add, too, because don't they always. | Canon through 3x03 | Complete | Depictions of trauma, some more detailed than others |

theleftboobgrabber

the weekly bet (but the forever kind) *Finished

When the squad bets on how long it will take for Buck and Abby to get back together when she comes back to LA, Eddie is forced to reconsider keeping his feelings for Buck a secret.  “Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, hiding his face deep in his pillow, even if Buck can’t see him in the dark. “What for?” Leave it to Buck to be confused about something so obvious. “Being you, idiot.” “And again with the name calling,” he answers, content and sleepy. Nights like this, Eddie feels like asking for a miracle. But to the team, it wasn’t a matter of if Abby would take him back, but when. A matter of days.

thetalee

Hold Steady, Hold Steady *Finished

After Eddie's bombshell announcement on Christmas, Buck runs away and finds himself back on his first day on the job.

A time-travel fix-it fic of sorts, ft. a stranger that totally just wants to help, honest.

The Thing With Feathers *Finished

After disappearing for a month, or four years and change from his perspective, Buck has returned to everyone he left behind. Except things don't miraculously fix themselves over night... Or: In which Buck made a choice, that wasn't really much of a choice, and is now saddled with the consequences.

turningthepages

I'll Feel You Forget Me Like I Used to Feel You Breathe *Finished

A car accident leaves Eddie without ten years of memories. He forgets meeting Buck, falling in love, getting married, and bringing two more kids into their life. As Eddie struggles to adjust to this new life, Buck struggles with being in love with someone who doesn't want to remember him. Oh, and they have really cute kids. or Just another Hollywood Amnesia story the fandom probably didn't need but lived in my head rent free for too long.

wakeupnew

where there's smoke, there's fire *Oneshot

Buck loves Christopher. Buck clearly loves both of them. He and Eddie haven't said it to each other yet, but it's in every gesture, every word. Every package of dinosaur nuggets Buck keeps in his refrigerator. Every time he sends a text because he saw a video of dogs looking ashamed after destroying stuff and he knows Eddie will think it's funny. The care he takes when he carries Chris to bed. How he looks at Eddie when he thinks Eddie's asleep. It turns out that being in a secret relationship with your best friend in an active fire department is kind of a life-altering situation, once it's suddenly not a secret anymore.

withmeornotatall

forget-me-nots *Oneshot

Eddie wakes up from the ambush, not in the deserts of Afghanistan, but the deserts of Los Angeles and finds out he's missing eight years of his life. Somehow, that's worse than falling from the sky and three gunshot wounds.

i (for)get you *Oneshot

"Eddie," Hen says softly. "We know how you approach relationships. If she's giving you hickeys, it's serious." "That's not—" "We're happy for you, bud." Chimney slaps his back again. "And we get it if you aren't ready to tell us yet, but you know we'd only ever be happy for you. Right, Buck?" He flinches at his name, Chimney's voice just loud enough to agitate the ache at the base of his skull. But then Eddie is looking at him with something amused sparkling in his eyes, and the combination of exhaustion and pain only makes him frown back. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asks quietly. Eddie's expression falters for a moment before smoothing back into that subtly amused look that makes Buck want to scratch his skin off. "Eddie, you're not a casual sex guy. You must have been dating her for a couple of months at least, if you're at this stage. Why wouldn't you tell me that?" (OR: buck hits his head, forgets the past month and suddenly eddie has a secret girlfriend... right?)

memory (all alone in the moonlight) *Oneshot

"Buck!" Eddie steps over the coffee he'd spilt and perches on the edge of the hospital bed, his fingers closing around Buck's hand. Buck is too tired to snatch it away. "Diaz?" He croaks with a frown. "What are you doing here?" "Where else would I be?" Eddie murmurs, frowning. Buck looks to Bobby for some sort of clarification, but Bobby's already sharing a confused look with Eddie. Something turns in his stomach. "Its not 2018, is it?" (OR: buck wakes up from an accident on eddie's first day at the 118, turns out, a lot has changed since then)

wonderfool (foolmetal)

the heart beat so loud, we could not ignore *Finished

Post 4x06/4x07, speculation for 4x08. “Change can be scary,” Buck says, “but we want your dad to be happy. Adults can get lonely too sometimes. He has a lot of friends at work, but he might be looking for someone who…can be a partner. Someone who worries about him and supports him when he’s feeling sad. Someone who loves him.” “But he already has you.”

woodchoc_magnum

wherever we're together, that's my home *Oneshot

Set post-5x06 "Brawl in Cell Block 9-1-1", in which Buck is struggling and unwilling to let anyone in (until Eddie takes matters into his own hands).

ZainClaw

to be found *Finished

After being mistreated by his alpha for the last time, Buck abandons his pack and heads for the city where he’s found by Eddie - another werewolf who’s nothing like the ones Buck is used to. Eddie is gentle, kind, and has made a pack for himself and his son that Buck desperately wishes he could be a part of.

[chrismerle]

Well hello there

Hey, hi, hello. I'm Elspeth. Elsa or Els work, too. Or Chrismerle if you just wanna stick with usernames. There have been a few iterations of my pinned post, but I figured it was about time to put together a new one.

I'm in my 30s. Greyromantic asexual. Nonbinary. I prefer they/them but honestly I'll take whatever pronouns you lob at me. I crochet. I make jewelry. I do tarot readings. I write (mostly ghostwriting lately, but sometimes I have time to write something I can actually share on tumblr). I edit. I do a bunch of things.

This blog is mostly a mishmash of fandom stuff, art stuff, some political stuff, and cute animals. I don't try to stick to any one theme in particular. Theoretically, I'm a writeblr blog, and I'm open to tag games or answering questions about my WIPs, but I'm very inactive as a writeblr because of work. My queue spits out 30 posts a day and is generally loaded for at least 10 to 15 days out, and I also periodically reblog random shit on the spot.

My WIPs:

#wip: threshold: Portal fantasy of mixed/indeterminate subgenre, wherein a bunch of young adults from the regular world get lured through a portal and stranded, and need to be guided back home. Complications occur. (Smells a bit like Fallen London.)

#wip: brothers: Short story exploring what it means to find your own identity when you've only ever been part of a package deal before.

#wip: eigengrau: Vaguely European low(-ish) fantasy dealing with gods and fae being fickle, zombies, cults, and a zombie cult.

#wip: ties that bind: Honestly I don't even fucking know. I've started it over twice and haven't liked it either time. It's vaguely about people finally getting to tell their own story after the world has silenced them and made up a story for them, but the story itself keeps falling to shit.

#series: rags 'n' addy: It's an oddball series of one shots primarily following the characters Ragnarok and Adam. Sort of horror, sort of fantasy, sort of rustic sci-fi. Happy to accept one shot prompts if you want to give one.

Most of my original, non-reblogged posts:

#actual journaling: Mostly me yammering on about my day or my pets.

#elsa liveblogs nonsense: My running commentary on whatever I am watching, playing, or reading at the moment.

#writeblr: All of my original fiction writing stuff, including my WIPs and some things that otherwise weren't tagged.

#jewelry drop: Stuff I've made for my Etsy shop. Not all of it is actually jewelry, but I didn't want too many tags just for the shop.

Support me:

Writing commissions

Editing commissions

Crochet commissions

Tarot readings

Etsy shop

Ko-Fi

PayPal: t.elspeth.williams@gmail.com

Venmo: @Taylor-Williams-1105

Or tip this post!

Other places to find me:

AO3 (currently locked to members only; I have extra invites if you need one)

Discord (DM me first)