#then a whole season later when will is at his limits again up to their rink-o-mania fight its as if he is trying harder than ever to hold o

[madlori]

Ok my fam, I think we all need a lil Come to Jesus moment. So let's talk about it.

"I'm disappointed Tommy wasn't in 8x02 and 8x03." That's ok! We'd all like to see him, and see our boys together. Going by precedent, we can probably expect to see him in 6-8 episodes this season (it could be more - Taylor had 13 episodes in season 5 - but we shouldn't count on it) and we've already burned one. I'd prefer not to have half of them during the opening disaster when SO MUCH ELSE is going on. I'd rather him appear in episodes when he's got a storyline with Buck, or even on his own, and especially at the midseason break or the end of the season when Relationship Events are more likely to happen.

"But the 217 engine!" I know. But as we sometimes like to say to other fans - we kind of baited ourselves with that. It was suggestive, sure. But the fact that production has MADE a 217 engine is also suggestive that we may see it again later, and they just put it in the hangar scene because they already had it and they had to fill up that hangar with as many vehicles as possible.

"An airplane disaster without using the pilot??" As others have pointed out, Tommy's not a jet pilot. And don't let anybody make you think you were nuts for thinking it was possible. It was definitely a reasonable theory, with supporting evidence, that he might be involved, but in the end, the big opening disaster is always going to be about our mains. As it should be. And honestly? It was great.

"But the whole point of bringing him back was to integrate him with the 118 more!" I'm sure that's still a goal they have, but it's probably easier said than done. Not just from a writing standpoint, but a contractual one, in that there's a limit to how often they can use him, so they have to pick and choose where.

"It's like they don't care about this relationship as much as we do." You're right. NOBODY will care about it as much as we do. They care about the main characters, about the show's actual premise (i.e. first responders encountering wild situations, secondarily the characters' personal lives). There is no universe in which ANY relationship in the show will be prioritized as much as we, the fandom, would like it to be. That's just life in the big city. But they do care, oh boy, they do. Enough to use BT scenes in off-season promo. Enough to write Tommy into a scene in the opening episode where, frankly, he didn't NEED to be. Also, consider this - to shoot that scene, Lou was probably on set a grand total of one day, MAYBE two. And they made sure to include him in the jokey "bee pickup lines" reel. You know what other relationship we haven't seen much? Buddie. They have not appeared together outside of work (and honestly, barely AT work either) except in the birthday party scene, and hey, did you notice that they do not interact at ALL in that scene? Buck spends that entire scene interacting only with Tommy. And that's a friendship featuring two mains that we know they value. That's not indicative of anything except the sheer scarcity of screentime.

"They should be promoting the queer relationship!" Should they? They've never really done that before, with the several pre-existing queer relationships. I have always sort of appreciated that they have not hung a neon sign on Buck and Tommy saying LOOK AT OUR NEW QUEER PAIRING. It's never gotten the Very Special Episode treatment - Buck never had gay panic, or much coming-out drama - and I like that. I like treating it no differently than other romantic pairings on the show. And they did actually promote it quite a bit when it happened. Now it would just feel kinda performative to me.

"Will he be in [whatever episode]?" Imma gently suggest we not do this every week. He'll be there or he won't. There'll be some we know he's in (I think 8x06 is a lock), some we won't know and will be pleasantly surprised, or unpleasantly surprised. I'd say odds for 8x04 are...20%, rising to at least 50% with 8x05 and 100% for 8x06.

And if you ever feel sad about it - go look at a still of Buck from any episode so far this season, and say to yourself, "This man is having heaps of amazing sex with his hot pilot boyfriend on the regular. Canonically."

I know a lot of us have encountered some pretty irritating gloating from people who hate this relationship (in a frankly weirdly obsessive way) about him being not there. Just remember - that's all they have to gloat about. The only "victory" they can claim is the absence of a character? Lame. And it's not even a victory, it's just the cost of doing business when your ship involves a recurring character. Sit back and enjoy your canon relationship between two men who've actually kissed on screen and ignore it. We can be generous about it.

So let's not talk ourselves off the deep end, shall we? I'd like to keep being a reasonable fandom.

[great-hon-equal-to-pot-pie]

I need a Mei-Azure analysis rn. IM TOO DUMB FOR IT I DON'T HAVE THE PROPER WORDS RN. Anyone. Please /np

So like, Azure is the personification of MK's doubts in Wukong. Azure is who MK can become, given enough time and resentment. MK idolizes those around him, which causes MK to compare himself to people who don't exist. He was never going to be able to be the "Monkey King", because the version of Wukong in his head isn't reality. This is the same idealization we see with Azure. Azure praised the Monkey King as a just ruler and a benevolent proponent of change, as a humble God, a brother of revolution, when that's not who Wukong was/is. He's like no one and he's just like anyone. It's about what seeing others as anything but what they are can do. Placing them on a pedestal or making them a scape goat. You have to be able to take the good with the bad. You have to be able to see the good, to see the bad. Otherwise you eat yourself alive

[m0llygunn]

deathbed confessions (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: cold and flu season hits you hard but luckily you have your best friend eddie to take care of you. If the cold medicine makes you admit a few things... eddie sure isn't complaining.

contents: 18+, best friends to lovers, r is dramatically sick with a cold (talks about dying but it's just drama), fluff idk a/n: guys i am so sick help me i had to lay on the bathroom floor after braving a shower because i thought i was gonna die (but also i wrote this so maybe im ok) wc: 4.4k+

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Holy shit, did Halloween come early?” Eddie snickers from the door of your room.

All you can muster up is a low groan and that alone makes you feel like your head is on the brink of explosion. 

“Jesus, you’re really sick, huh?” he says with the huff of a laugh.

You answer with another groan. Yes. You are 'really sick'.

“Can I do something to help?” he replies, the first hint of empathy appearing in his voice.

“Put me out—” you interrupt yourself with a sniffle followed by a phlegmy cough. “—out of my misery.”

You were supposed to be seeing some double feature with Eddie tonight but yesterday, right before bed, you felt the slightest of tickles in your throat. By morning you were the living dead with everything from your big toe to your forehead aching in one way or another. You called Eddie and before you could even mention that you were sick, he knew from your stuffed up voice. 

No matter how many times you told him you’d be fine he was strangely insistent in checking on you at the very least. By the end of the call he’d quickly worn you down and you told him that he has the spare key and he can do whatever he wants but if he gets sick that's his fault— a little mean but arguing was the last thing you felt like doing.

From the time you hung up to now— which has only been a handful of hours, you’ve gotten substantially worse. Earth shatteringly worse. So terribly worse that the simple task of opening your eyes has been too much effort. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and your lungs are just begging for salvation. That’s why when Eddie called twenty minutes ago letting you know he was on his way you told him no. It would have been wise if he listened to you but instead he replied ‘too bad’ and abruptly hung up the phone. 

Cut to twenty minutes later he was at your door, letting himself in. He was willingly walking into his very own death sentence. He clearly thought it was more of a joke than anything.

You hear Eddie’s tell-tale gait as he walks further into your room. You assume that he’s standing over your bed, maybe a hand on the back of his neck, maybe a hand on his hip. Mustering the efforts to confirm your suspicions would take too much of your very limited energy so you continuing laying in your bed, not doing as much as opening an eye.

You hear the ruffle of his hair and he definitely is rubbing the back of his neck as he gauges what to do. 

“So…do you want, like, medicine then?” he asks. 

“A gun,” you croak, earning a deep belly laugh from Eddie.

“At least your humour’s still intact, that’s good to know,” he says, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

You try to shuffle over to make room for him, but that effort alone makes you wince.

“Call an ambulance,” you whine, sniffling pathetically. 

“Really?” he asks, a genuine nervousness creeping into his voice. You feel his hand tug at the blanket you’ve cocooned yourself in, revealing your face for him to see. If you were more cognizant maybe you’d care about Eddie seeing you like this, but you’re too far gone to think about that. 

“No,” you answer, nodding your head up and down in contrast to your answer, earning a huff of relief from Eddie. 

The blanket slackens from his pull and the bed dips deeper as he leans in further to get a better look at you. Once again, if you were more cognizant you’d probably rather he didn’t, but you wouldn’t have the will to fight it anyways.

“Did you take anything?” he asks. 

“It’s been a few hours.”

“Did you eat?”

“Yeah, whipped up a quick 4 course meal earlier, michelin approved of course,” you mumble. You contemplate cracking an eye open to see his reaction but you don’t. 

“Right, so no food.” 

“No, surprisingly not that hungry when you’re on your deathbed,” you say, sniffling.

“Tell me you’ve at least had water,” he says and from his tone you know that he already knows the answer. 

“I had water until the bottle was empty, then I decided I’d rather succumb to death than get out of bed,”

“Funny, funny girl,” he says dryly, obviously not impressed by your answers. 

“Tombstone quote,” you say weakly, hoping that Eddie gets what you mean. He laughs softly and you consider that enough of a success. 

You hear the slightest bit of shuffling, not Eddie getting up but more like he’s looking around your room. Whatever state it’s in, you couldn’t even work up the courage to care. 

“Do you want a movie on or something?” he asks, breaking the lull in conversation. 

“Would you do that?” you ask, tilting your face towards him despite not opening your eyes. 

“Oh yeah. I’m giving you the mortally ill special— the deathbed works, if you will,” he says, and you can tell he’s smiling. You do your best to smile back but it’s weak and probably looks more like a grimace. 

You feel shuffling before the bed rises from Eddie standing.

“Okay, so I’m gonna get you medicine first. Then movie, food, and whatever else, deal?”

Your lower lip pouts out appreciatively for the boy you’ve called your best friend for forever now. If you weren’t deathly ill, you’d kiss him.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper, voice getting caught in your throat for an entirely different reason than your cold this time. 

He mumbles back some version of ‘don’t worry about it’ before he’s off, leaving you in the quiet of your room with only your breathing, coughing, and sniffling breaking the silence. It’s barely a few minutes before you hear his footsteps and the edge of your bed dips again. 

“This is what you took right? The cold and flu medicine?”

“Mhm” you hum.

“You have nasal congestion?”

You sniffle loudly and nod.

“Right. Nasal pain, sinus congestion, and sinus pain?”

You hum again, catching onto the fact that he’s reading the symptoms off of the box. 

“Chest congestion?”

Weakly you swat your hand out trying to find Eddie. When you do, you give him the weakest of taps. “Too many questions,” you muster. 

“Well, I know you’re joking about dying but I don’t want to actually kill you,” he says. You hum again.

You hear him fumbling with the cardboard before fumbling with the plastic pill packaging.

“Do you wanna sit up?” he asks.

“I want to die,”

“Well you can’t do that so I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?”

Eddie starts tugging at the blanket and you let your weakened limbs go limp, undoubtedly making the task much harder for him but he doesn’t say anything. Eventually, he pulls you up by your underarms, propping you up against your headboard. 

When you feel his cool hands on your forehead, pushing your hair back and out of your face, you open your eyes for the first time since Eddie got here. 

“There she is,” he laughs lightly, still pushing back the disheveled mess that is your hair.

“Your hands feel nice,” you whisper, focusing on the coolness on your skin. Before you have a chance to really absorb the relief of his hands on your skin, he pulls away, grabbing for the water he had set down on your bedside table. 

“Yeah, you’re really hot,” he replies, passing the water to you.

“Tombstone quote,” you say, catching his eye, making him laugh again. With a shaky hand, you take the water.

“Funny and hot, that’s a killer deal.” He hands you the little cold and flu pill and you place it in your mouth, swallowing it down with small sips of the cold water that feels like ice going down your throat. 

You redirect your gaze to Eddie, “you’re gonna get sick, that’s the real killer here,” you say. 

“I’ll be fine,”

“You don’t want this cold, trust me,” you say, taking another sip of water before holding it out to Eddie. 

“I’ll be fine,” he repeats as he takes the water, putting it back on your bedside table. 

You nod. You appreciate Eddie’s help more than anything. Fending for yourself wasn’t exactly going so well— clearly.

“You had this with your other stuff, do you want it?” he asks, holding up the vicks vapor rub.

When you felt the cold coming on you went to the pharmacy and picked up a few things just in case. The vapor rub was on sale and you bought it on a whim but haven’t tried it yet.

“Do you think it really works?”

“Wayne used to put it on me, I guess it does?”

“Where do you put it?”

“On your chest or back,” he answers, looking at the fine print of the packaging. “Yeah, it says chest, throat, and back.”

You open your mouth to reply but instead feel the creeping up of the tickling in your throat. Turning the other way, you do your best to not cough all over Eddie. Sucking in a deep breath, you only trigger another cough that divulges into one of many coughing attacks that you’ve had today. When you’re finally done, you drop your head to the back of the headboard in defeat. 

“C’mon, let’s try it on your back for now,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder encouraging you to lean forward. You move how he wants you without protest.

“I’m just gonna lift up your shirt a bit, okay?” he says, you nod but he pauses, fingers just barely slipping under the hem of your shirt.

“Eddie, with the way I’m feeling, you could see me butt ass naked right now and I could not care less,” you say. 

He snorts a laugh before his cool fingers trail up your spine giving you tingles that make you shiver. “Sorry,” he hums but you shake your head. His hand makes contact with your upper back, rubbing the ointment on your skin and it honestly feels incredibly soothing. Whether it’s the rub or the physical contact, you’re not sure, but you’re not questioning it either.

The noise that comes out of you could have been a moan had you not been congested. Instead it comes out like a low, stuffed up groan— not unlike a movie zombie. 

Eddie rubs a few more circles on your back before his hand travels back down your spine. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks, helping you sit back up straight.

“So fucking good and like I need you to rub my back like that again,” you say, resting your head back against the headboard. Maybe you put a little too much conviction in your words but that truly felt amazing.

The room is silent and you blink open your eyes to see Eddie holding the tub of rub in his hands, paused halfway through closing it. It takes a moment for him to look up at you but when he does, he smiles softly.

“What movie do you wanna watch?”

Had you not been distracted by your sickness, you might have noticed the faintness of a blush spreading across the tops of Eddie’s cheeks. Coughing and forcing air back into your lungs takes up every ounce of your consciousness though, so you don’t notice. 

You shrug your shoulder taking a deep breath, “anything, I’ll probably pass out from the medicine anyways,” you reply, turning away again to cough. 

Eddie hums before he’s moving to your dresser opposite your bed, angling the TV for you to see it better. 

“Sixteen Candles, Children of the Corn, Gremlins, Teen Wolf?” he says, listing off the titles of the different tapes you have sprawled next to the vcr. 

“Any.” 

“Gremlins seems kind of relevant,” he says, pulling open the clamshell box.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask. Eddie turns to you, smirk spreading across his lips.

“Nothing,” he sings lightly. He turns away from you, pushing the tape into the player and then pressing the combination of buttons to get it working. 

“You better not be implying that I look like a gremlin because—” you interrupt yourself with another cough that quickly divulges into yet another coughing fit— worse than the last. 

With each cough being so strong it makes your head pound. You don’t notice Eddie crossing your room or him settling back on the edge of your bed. You only notice his presence when he’s encouraging you forward, hand rubbing your back again. 

When your coughing finally calms down enough for you to take a good breath, Eddie brings the glass of water up for you to take a sip. You take the cup in your hands, guiding it to your mouth. At the same time, Eddie never fully lets go of the cup, making sure it doesn’t spill. You take a drink, nodding when you’re done and he sets it back down, hand still running up and down your back. 

“It’s probably just the rub working, getting all that nasty stuff out,” he says softly. 

You nod again, letting your head fall to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. It’s probably not the smartest idea to be so close to him because you're pretty much sentencing him to his demise, but with how terrible you feel you’re desperate for anything to make it better— and right now the only thing making anything better is Eddie. 

“The medicine’ll kick in any minute and you’ll feel much better, okay? I’ll go get you something to eat and then I can rub your back some more. How’s that sound?” he says softly, brushing the edge of your face with his chin as he tilts his face downwards towards yours. 

Your lower lip pouts out again and you feel your eyes water behind your closed lids. Maybe you were already hyper emotional from feeling so sick, but Eddie being so sweet is also doing a number on you.

“Sounds really nice,” you whisper, sucking in a breath.

“You’ll be okay,” Eddie whispers, hand switching from rubbing up and down your back to rubbing circles at the top of your back. “I’ll take care of you, I got you.”

Before the tears in your eyes have a chance to breach your waterline, Eddie’s shifting beside you, leaning you back against the headboard with the promise of being quick while he gets you food. Only once he’s gone and you’re left alone in your room do you notice Gremlins has already started playing. Opening your eyes, you spare a few glances at the screen that distract you from your teary eyed state.

As Eddie promised, he was pretty quick in his return. You could hear him the whole time, kitchen utensils clanking and cupboard doors closing. Maybe all concept of time is lost on you right now, but it seemed like barely any time had passed before he was taking slow, careful steps back towards your room.

“Alright— got that soup you like, got crackers, and got you some juice,” Eddie announces as he situates the dishware on your bedside table. “I even made sure not to warm the soup too much so you can eat it right away,” he says.

Eyes closed again, you don’t know what you expected him to do but him manhandling you took you by surprise. A hand slid behind your back and another under your upper thighs, he was sliding you right over on the mattress.

“Just giving myself some space here,” he says absentmindedly as he fixes your blanket around you. He quickly settles in next to you before grabbing the sleeve of crackers and settling them in front of you and grabbing the bowl of soup.

Sitting with his legs stretched out next to yours, you let your head dip to his shoulder again, this time like a silent thank you where you cozy your head against him, not unlike a cat.

“For the record, you’re more like Gizmo,” he says, a tease intruding in his voice.

“Hm?” you hum questioningly.

“You don’t look like a gremlin, you’re cute like Gizmo,” he says.

You sink your face further into the crook of Eddie's shoulder, lip jetting out once more. He’s done nothing more than call you a cute gremlin rather than an evil gremlin, yet you feel yourself turning misty eyed yet again. This time you squeeze your eyes shut, closing them on purpose, hiding your sickness induced emotions.

“Soups gonna get cold,” Eddie says, twisting his neck to look at you again. “C’mon, it’ll be better for you if you eat it warm,” he says, using his free arm to move you.

Once you’re finally propped up again in an appropriate position to eat, you feel Eddie’s hand on your cheek— no doubt becoming aware of your tears.

“You okay?” he asks softly, thumb rubbing under your cheek.

“You’re being so nice to me,” you explain, sniffling back your need to cry.

“Just taking care of you. Want you to feel better,” he replies, keeping his voice quiet. 

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“You don’t gotta thank me, just gotta eat your soup, okay Gizmo?” Eddie says, making you snort out a snotty laugh before sucking it all back in with an apology that he quickly dismisses. 

You take a few breaths, getting your tears under control. Shifting your focus to the soup, Eddie holds the bowl close to you while you slowly feed yourself spoonful after spoonful. 

“Crackers?” Eddie offers.

“Maybe one.”

“How ‘bout two?” he replies, peeling back the plastic and pulling two out for you. You nod softly before taking them from him. 

You feel yourself running out of energy and it’s exasperating that all it took was lifting a spoon to your lips a measly few times. When you let the crackers sit in your lap for too long, Eddie turns to look at you, resting the bowl of soup down in his lap. 

“Y’okay?” he asks.

“Tired,” you answer. 

“Just finish those and you can be done, okay?” he says, meeting your gaze. You shake your head.

“Can’t,” you reply.

“You can,” he says, turning his torso to put the bowl of soup on the table. He turns back around, reaching for the crackers in your hand. “Know you can,” he repeats, bringing the crackers to your lips.

“Eddie—” you try to protest.

“Bite,” he says, cutting you off and nudging the cracker into your mouth. 

You bite, giving into him. It feels weird being hand fed. It’s probably even weirder when two bites in you close your eyes in an effort to conserve your energy. Regardless, Eddie doesn’t say anything besides positive affirmations about how good you’re doing which you really, really appreciate. 

“How about you drink some of this,” he says, reaching for the glass of juice as you chew the last bite of cracker. “Then I’ll help you lay down and I can rub your back s’more?”

“You don’t have to if you wanna go home, you've been here a long time,” you say, swallowing the dryness of the cracker down. 

Eddie lifts the cup of juice to your lips, tipping it back for you to sip at. When you take more than a few drinks, you lift a hand lightly pushing the cup away. Blinking your eyes open you look at Eddie as he returns the cup to sit with the other dishware on your bedside table. 

“I’m serious, Eddie. You can go home if you want,”

“Don’t want to,”

“You’re gonna be— you interrupt yourself with a yawn this time. “—gonna be so sick,” you say groggily.

“Just let me cuddle you, you know you want it,” he says, a teasing tone hinting in his voice. You blink open your eyes again to see a genuine smile as he looks at you—one that shouldn’t be there considering how gross you feel and are sure you look. Despite that, it’s there and you do want cuddles so you nod softly, making a weak, sad attempt at getting closer to Eddie.

Eddie meets your attempt by gently pulling you down the mattress. He maneuvers you to have your head resting on his chest while his arm snakes around you, rubbing circles on your back. With the sleepiness settling in and your cold symptoms dialing back due to the medicine, you can’t help but hum happily. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he says quietly.

It feels beyond good. Good is an understatement. Having him take care of you like this is making you feel mushy and only highlights your feelings for Eddie. In combination with your partially delusionally, sleepy state the only thing on your mind is expressing your feelings, all of them true no matter how far out of it you are at this point. 

“Eddie, if I die, just know that I love you,” you mutter into the fabric of his shirt. 

“That’s just the cold medicine talking,” Eddie laughs softly. You find the energy to shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, love you,” you repeat. “Love you so much.”

It’s faint, maybe he whispered it or maybe it’s the fact that you were slipping into sleep but you heard it. 

“I love you too,” he says quietly. 

As if those words gave you a short lived second life, it had you perking up, desperately needing to clarify just in case he didn’t understand. 

“But Eddie I love you as my best friend but also more than that— I love you so much.”

He leaves you in silence but you don’t have the clear consciousness to overthink it, you just keep talking.

“I don’t even care if you don’t like me like that, I love you Eddie.”

“I love you too. Love you a lot, but I think we should talk about this when you’re not tired and on cold medicine, okay?” he whispers softly. 

As your thoughts start to drift, you focus on the first half of Eddie's sentiment. He loves you— and he loves you a lot. With that on your mind, intermixed with the comforting friction of his hand on your back, you fall into the deepest and most comfortable sleep of your life despite being so sick. Eddie loves you. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Arguably, the best thing that came out of your cold was your confession. It was bound to happen eventually and although it did sort of seem like a deathbed confession at the time, it was genuine— that of which you clarified for Eddie. To your fortune, he also clarified that his reply was true as well. Beyond that, you were still sick and neither of you had done much more than just sharing those little words that one night. So yes, arguably, that's the best thing that came out of your sickly state; however, in your opinion, you think the best thing that happened was that you got Eddie sick too. 

It was less than a day after you started feeling normal again that Eddie was running a fever. He ended up staying at your place for the majority of your sickness but he had left once to get some things for himself. Since he had his stuff here already, you offered for him to stay over at yours while you returned the favor of playing doctor. 

Eddie took on a much different position as a sick person than you did. Undeniably, you both were on the dramatic end of things but while your cynical humour came out during your time being sick, Eddie was much different in how expressed himself.

Normally, a very touchy feely person, his affectionate side heightened tenfold while he was sick. He was all grabby hands, wanting you closer to him. Maybe it was because the two of you had broken the touch barrier while you were sick or maybe Eddie just turned into a touch deprived baby when he was sick, you’ll never know, but you didn’t deny him of the cuddles that you so dearly appreciated while you were under the weather. 

The most interesting part— which shouldn't have came as a surprise, was that not only did he appreciate holding you, but he intensely appreciated you holding him, whether that be hands scratching his head as he rested it on your stomach, or your arms wrapped around him from behind making him the little spoon. Additionally, he was also incredibly affectionate with his words, constantly telling you how grateful he was for you and how much he appreciated you. 

Your favourite confession came late one night, probably at the peak of his sickness. Fairly similar to your deathbed confession, but a moment to remember regardless.

You had just finished helping him eat, similar to how he had done for you, and were cuddling with him, smoothing your hands over his side as he rested his head on your chest. 

The medicine was kicking in, making him drowsy, eyes fluttering shut as he let sleep take him over. He had kept babbling random thoughts but as he got more and more tired he was eventually reduced to heavy breaths. That was, until he titled his face up to yours. You looked down at him, meeting his sleepy eyes.

“I love you,” he said. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too, Eddie,” you replied, smiling.

“But I love you so much,” he said, voice returning to its babbling cadence. “Love you so much I wanna kiss you and love you and—” his babbling started to slowly fade as his head got heavier on your chest. You couldn’t help but laugh softly as your heart swelled.

You smoothed a hand over his face, brushing back his hair as you stared at him with nothing but love for your very, very sick boy. Like you had given him a second wind, his babbling started up again. 

“Wanna marry you. Love you so much wanna marry you,” he said, words slurring.

“Think you’ll have to ask me on a date first, cutie,” you replied quietly, partially under the impression that he was already asleep. 

“I will. Love you so much, I will,” he mumbled and with that, he was out like a light. 

From there, the rest was history. If curious minds were to inquire, you would say that Eddie’s always been very good at keeping his promises, and mindless babbling or not, he meant every word that he confessed in his sickly, drowsy state. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

thank you! <3

[think-like-a-poet]

Oscar piastri x reader

a/n: Started this a couple weeks ago. not my best work, but I have a bit of a writing block for the f1 driver, so i am trying.

-

Oscar was walking through the paddock, listening to Lando rambling about random things. He stopped listening halfway through, when the Brit started to explain something about golf and Oscar couldn't care less.

He wanted to go to the motorhome, knowing you were there waiting for him. It was your first time back after having your son and he just wanted to show you around the paddock again.

You and Oscar had been high school sweethearts, starting dating at the age of 14. Now almost ten years later you were married and had your first child. Oliver wasn't completely planned but you two wouldn't have had it any other way. The little fella didn't attend the race, as he is still quite young, he is spending time with his grandmother in Australia. Nicole never turned down on seeing her grandson.

You had lots of criticism about marrying so young and having a child, that you didn't want to attend while you were pregnant. But now you had the baby and recovered from it, that you decided to support him in Austria for the grand prix.

Oscar spotted you talking to some people and walked up to you. He greeted you and placed a kiss on your head. Lando looked confused when he looked back, to see if he was still listening, and saw that the Aussie wasn't there anymore.

"Sorry that you had to waite,"

You took his hand in yours and smiled, "Don't worry, honey. They have been keeping me entertained." you say as you look at the Mclaren staff.

"Good, can i get you anything. You must be thirsty. Have you drink enough?" Oscar rambled as he grabbed a bottle of water from the table and gave it to you. You just laughed as you took it out of his hand. "I have, but thank you."

"If it isn't Mrs Piastri." you look up by the sound of an excited brit.

"Lando, hello." he hugs you and Oscar has to keep himself from pulling him away.

Lando smiled, oblivious to your husband's dagger look on the back of his neck. "How are you. Everything with you and Oliver?"

"I am good. Ollie is great too, i hope he doesn't tire his grandmother out too much this weekend."

"Didn't he want to attend the race. I am sure he would love to see uncle Lando win."

Oscar looked at the Britt with confusion. "He is quite young to attend mate."

You snicker and add, "And he much more wants to see his father win."

Lando pretended to be hurt before he got called away by his trainer. Oscar took this as a sign to finally kiss you and walked you outside.

"Everything is fine. You are not uncomfortable or anything?"

You wrapped your arm around his biceps and kissed his cheek. "I am a great Oscar. Nothing to worry about."

After some time, Oscar was called away to get ready for the race and you were seated in the Mclaren garage. You didn't want to walk around the paddock alone, the fear of a reporter walking up to you. You never really contacted with the other wags, as you had spent most of this season at home in Australia and last year was Oscars rookie season, so he didn't really know the drives good enough to introduce you to their girlfriends.

Lando didn't have a girlfriend so you weren't able to talk with her. So you sat alone as the whole garage was getting ready for the race. Oscar would start in p7 after track limits. Quite unfair, but the rules.

After qualy. You and Oscar spent the night eating some austrian food and watched a movie. You missed your son, but it was nice for once to have some time with only your husband.

[judebelle]

Comforting gavi bc of his injury 🥹

it'll be okay - p.g. x reader

a/n : couldn't find a gif of him in the spain vs georgia match but gavi get well soon!

cw : fluff, angst, pablo in pain, injury, poor medical references, me using my limited knowledge of acl injuries lmao, reader not knowing how to comfort him, swearing, barely edited

wc : 1.6k

pairing : pablo gavi x fem!reader

---

the one game.

the one game you couldn't make it to was the one game that you needed to be at the most.

your boyfriend, pablo gavi, was playing for spain in a euro qualifier. you had an exam that day, so you couldn't be there to support him.

"no te preocupes, baby. good luck on your exam." (don't worry, baby. good luck on your exam.)

that was the last text your boyfriend sent you after you apologized again for not being there for him, even though you were already right outside your exam room.

with his reassurance, you stepped into the room and tried your best on the exam.

you weren't sure as to why pablo had to start for this match. spain had already qualified and he was already overworked as it was, but you didn't question his coach and managers and just brushed it under the rug.

unbeknownst to you, pablo had suffered an injury during the match. as you completed your exam, unaware of the events unfolding on the field, pablo battled through the game with determination. eventually, the fatigue took its toll, and he found himself nursing an injury that would later reveal itself as a full tear of his acl as well as an associated injury to his lateral meniscus.

your absence from the game meant that the news of his injury remained hidden from you, leaving you unsuspecting of the challenges he faced without your support.

you exited the exam hall, confident that your relentless studying had paid off. you opened your phone, intending to message pablo about your exam. you completely forgot about his match until you saw a ridiculous amount of notifications on your lock screen. as you scrolled, your heart sank upon discovering the news. shock and concern shook you as you read the details of your boyfriend's injury.

many reports outlined the severity of the situation, describing how pablo had most likely torn his acl during the match. a wave of guilt and empathy washed over you as you absorbed the gravity of the news. instantly, you dialed pablo's number, desperate to speak with him.

your heart sank at the monotone beeps that met your ear. stupid idea, he wasn't going to pick up the phone when his whole fucking knee was messed up. you realized that you were too far from the stadium to rush over there, so you sent him a few texts notifying him of your knowledge of the situation and made your way to your shared home.

---

you knew that there was not much you could do in terms of helping with the injury. all you knew was that pablo will be gutted when he gets back. you weren't an expert, but you saw the clip of the injury and the tears that spilled from his eyes. this was a serious injury and he would have to sacrifice a good chunk of the season recovering.

that's when a guilty feeling settled in your chest. you would've no doubt, skipped your exam to be there had you miraculously known what was in store for him. maybe if you were in the stands, you would've been able to see if he was okay and talk to him.

as you entered the house, you hurriedly kicked off your shoes and washed your hands, getting the house as comfortable for him as possible. you fixed up the bed, put a few ice packs in the freezer, and started making his comfort foods.

being an athlete means that pablo is always on a pretty strict diet, but you snuck in a few treats in his bed side drawer because you knew he'd need them.

after what seemed like an eternity of waiting and anxious preparing, you finally heard buzzing from your phone.

"hello? pablo?"

you heard a pained grunt and some shuffling before he strained out,

"y/n.."

"oh, thank god you're okay! what's happening? any updates yet? when are you coming home?"

pablo interrupted your rambling with a soft laugh, almost forced, before speaking. "despacio, mi amor," (slowly, my love.)

you pause your tangent, freezing in place and waiting for him to say something. you're about to start speaking again when you hear the front door start to open pablo's voice on the phone.

"i'm home."

---

two men walked beside him in case he needed assistance walking through the front door, but he was more than capable on his crutches. you dropped the phone from your hand as you saw pablo walking in from your place in the kitchen. you rushed over and he sent you a tight lipped smile. he told the two men that they're good to leave, and they did.

you finally walked closer to him, wanting to throw yourself onto him but stopping once you remembered his condition. you huffed in annoyance before ultimately pushing your lips against his fiercely, but not too hard.

he kissed back, but couldn't wrap his arms around you as he needed to hold his crutches to stand. you broke away and looked down at his knee. he was wearing a grey tracksuit, but you could see something under his pants on his left knee, most likely a brace of some sort.

"pablo, you have no idea how confused i am.. what happened? tell me everything!" you led him to the kitchen while walking beside him incase he needed help. he begins to fill you in on how he was challenged during the match and he didn't quite turn right, and his knee was already hurting from the beginning of the match, but they told him to play on.

"they ran some tests. i don't know what the results are yet, but they're quite sure that i completely tore my acl and injured my meniscus. if they're right.. i could be out for around nine months. my season is done.."

you had no idea what exact muscles and tissues and bones pablo was naming, but yo knew that acl injuries were no joke, and needed to be taken seriously. also knowing pablo, he plays passionately and has had a great season so far. the fact that it's being cut short is not fair to him.

nothing is.

"ai.." you hissed sympathetically "well, i don't know much about acl's, but i do know that you need to rest properly. and you being the stubborn man that you are, i will be here to make sure you do exactly that, okay?"

you didn't give him time to respond before placing some plates and bowls on a tray and taking them upstairs, telling pablo to stay put. you hurried back downstairs before helping up the stairs, letting him use the crutches as well.

after a few minutes, he was upstairs and into bed. you sat beside him on the bed, his head turning when he felt it dip.

"i smell food.." he smiles sheepishly as you giggled. he must've been hungry after the match. you lifted the tray from the table beside you and placed it beside him. you placed a pillow under his head, making sure he was sitting slightly upright.

you sat crisscrossed beside him and took a spoonful of a soup you made him, blowing lightly as you smiled at him. he was waiting patiently while looking up at you. you brought the spoon to his lips and tilted so he could sip. you did this until the bowl was empty.

pablo, once again being the stubborn man he is, tried to tell you that he didn't need all the fuss, and that you could relax. well, you were even more stubborn. you let him sip water through a straw before turning on his favorite show on low volume on the tv.

"baby, i don't need all this-"

"shh, just relax, cariño. let me take care of you.."

you layed beside him and moved his head to lay slightly on your chest, his eyes still fixed on the sreen.

you had propped up his right leg, under a spare pillow, making sure to keep an eye on it. the doctors would be doing frequent visits and you were determined to make his healing process as smooth as possible.

"you really are an angel, you know that, y/n?" he looked up at you, the glare from the tv shining in his brown eyes.

"you've only told me that a hundred times, guapo." you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

he hummed softly at the contact, needing the relief.

"i just... i wish i didn't have to miss the whole season. i was doing really well.. it's not fair."

"i know it isn't, pablo. if you ask me, you shouldn't have been starting that match. you need your rest, you're still young."

he huffed in annoyance, letting out all his frustration.

the room fell silent, the faint sounds of the show you had turned on filling the air.

"y/n..?" he whispered gently. he sounded nervous.

you hummed in response.

"what if - when i return - i'm not in the same shape that i was.. what if i can't play well anymore?"

his words broke your heart. he shouldn't have to worry about this at his age. you sighed softly, your hand running through his soft locks. his eyes fluttered shut. he always liked when you did that.

"you won't have to worry, baby. as long as you rest properly, and take it easy, you will be fine. the more you worry, the worse it will get. just.. just let me take care of you. everything will be okay. it will fall into place."

his lips stretched into a soft smile, your words calming him. your hand was still running through his hair, making pablo's adam's apple bob up and down.

"i love you." he whispered, his eyes opening to look into your eyes as he said it.

you bit your lip and smiled softly.

he looked so cute.

"i love you too."

you pressed your lips to his again before leaning into each others warmth.

you both drifted off to sleep.

[melsmodernlife]

Can we talk about this?

I feel like this gets so overlooked due to the whole “Rescuing me makes him so happy” bit. But I absolutely adore how Crowley says he won’t leave Aziraphale and almost before he’s done saying this Aziraphale is already saying “I know.”

Look, our ineffable duo kind of fail at communicating well (it’s basically the whole theme of season 2 and a consistency of the series so far), but they do trust each other.

I think this is partially why Aziraphale was so shocked by Crowley not following him to heaven. There’s push and pull, but Aziraphale trusts Crowley to play a protector for him and to always come back.

Just look at their fights so far. In particular, they fight about the holy water but Crowley later shows up and saves Aziraphale from the Nazis. They fight twice about running off together during season 1 and both times Crowley comes back to see Aziraphale. They fight about what to do with Jim and Crowley storms off saying Aziraphale is on his own only to return and apologize.

But part of the problem is Aziraphale takes that trust for granted. He constantly pushes Crowleys boundaries, but returning to Heaven was a hard limit. This demon who has put his life on the line multiple times for Aziraphale because of love and trust says no and Aziraphale constantly pushes past that to get his way with the expectation that Crowley will fall in line with him again.

And I say all this to say, Crowley comforted Aziraphale saying he wouldn’t leave him and Aziraphale implicitly believed him. But when has Aziraphale done that for Crowley?

[gwenyn28]

The "real" reasons why these actresses left 9-1-1

Because it is a common accusation Buddie fans have to deal with I wanted to talk about the reasons why the female love interests for Buck and Eddie left the show.

I already talked about it on twitter but due to a limited space I couldn't post links and go deeper into the stories. Therefore I will talk about this a bit more on here.

I will admit that there might have been some fans out there who were really mean and acted weird/rude towards these women. But still... there are real reasons for leaving the show, not "the Buddie fans bullied them and they couldn't handle it anymore so they left".

Connie Britton (Abigail Clark)

When 9-1-1 started in early 2018 Connie Britton was part of the main cast. She was casted as the dispatcher "Abigail Clark" so that the viewer could have not only the firefighter's view but also the dispatcher's. After an incident at a rollercoaster where Buck lost a person Abby looked up his number to ask if he was okay. They started to talk and soon after got into a relationship.

To begin with, her contract was just for one season and she left when her contract was up. Ryan Murphy said in an interview that they were renogotiating her deal because she loved the cast and wanted to come back for a couple of episodes (what we later got with the train wreck in the season 3 finale). But just as a guest star, not as a main cast again. In the meantime, for that dispatch connection, Jennifer Love Hewitt as Maddie Buckley (now Han) was cast.

It was also the plan NOT to bring her back in season 2 so that Buck could grow on his own and that this growth won't be connected with Abby anymore. After all, they just had a brief relationship and she left him at the airport and ghosted him afterwards.

(Source)

So, all in all, she was just supposed to be there for one season only. She didn't want to have a longer contract because she prefers to work just for one season of any tv show. And because she and Ryan Murphy are good friends, he agreed on this, wanting her appearance on his new show in 2018 to help him get the series off the ground.

(Source)

Tiffany Dupont (Ali Martin)

Buck and Ali met in season 2 during an earthquake where she was rescued by him and Eddie. Later on they met again and started to date. When Buck was crushed by a ladder truck and severely injured she broke up with him afterwards in the hospital. She told him that she couldn't live with him being in danger and that he wanted to continue with this risky job after his leg would be better again.

Tim stated in an interview 2019 that he loved Ali but she wasn't his first choice. Because she had chemistry with Buck and Eddie he decided to bring her back for Buck. Their relationship would have to go through the "make it or break it" because she knew that Buck's job was hard and dangerous and Ali wasn't a first responder. So, it had to be decided if she could live with that or not. In the end Tim wanted to keep her as an option for the next season as he reintroduced her but the relationship didn't make it.

(Source)

Megan West (Taylor Kelly)

Megan West was already one of Buck's former hook-ups who was introduced in an earlier season but came back in season 4 and 5 to play Buck's love interest. The possibility to give her a bigger role was there due to Jennifer Love Hewitt being on maternity leave. Therefore her character could get some screen time and she got a whole backstory.

Kristen Reidel, showrunner at that time, stated in an interview the inevitability of the couple's separation because of the people they were. Their characters were the complete opposites and even though sometimes opposites attract this didn't happen with Buck and Taylor. The break-up was the only logical conclusion.

Since Taylor's story arc came to an end with this break-up and the narrative of the show didn't demand another independant character, Megan West left the show after her story was told.

(Source)

Annelise Cepero (Natalia Dollenmeyer)

At the end of season 6 Buck met Natalia, a death doula, and started to date her. It seemed as if they had a connection (a weird one, but still a connection) and so she was Buck's girlfriend at the time season 6 ended.

In an interview mid-March Tim Minear said that he wasn't really interested in going down the road with Natalia when he took over again from Kristen Reidel as previous showrunner for season 5 and 6. He decided that it was time for Buck to stop talking about death, it was boring. He wanted Buck to live some more and to pursue joy. Buck should finally find happiness.

It seems like it was not just a creative decision. Not only storywise Tim decided to break up Buck and Natalia over hiatus. Annelise is based in New York. After the end of season 6 there was the writer's strike happening and season 7 was postponed. During that prolonged hiatus she got a contract on Broadway for "Hotel Happy" that premiered in February 2024. Therefore she couldn't join 9-1-1 again.

And since Tim was also fine with her not coming back storywise... it was mutual for her not to return.

Gabrielle Walsh (Ana Flores)

Gabrielle Walsh was a guest star and played Ana Flores, Eddie's love interest. When they first met when she was Chris' teacher, they really didn't get along. But later on, in the "Jinx" episode, Eddie asked her out and they started dating.

In an insta video (uploaded on youtube) she stated that she liked being on the show and that she loved her role, praising all the cast members. She admitted that she was sad to go but in the end everybody deserved to be with who they really loved. Some people interpreted this as a comment towards Buddie because directly afterwards she also talked about the Buddie fans and that there are no hard feelings concerning them, that she loved them.

Edy Ganem (Marisol)

Edy Ganem played Marisol and was brought in last-minute. She was kind of a hardware store fling for Eddie in the season 6 finale. Back then nobody knew if 9-1-1 would be renewed (or taken over by abc) so Kristen Reidel wanted to give every character a partner and love interest in some kind of closure if the show had ended back then. Marisol who was introduced earlier on on a call seemed to be a fit for Eddie in Kristen's eyes.

Coming to season 7 she was not planned to come back at first because Eddie was supposed to start dating Tommy Kinard. But then, as already stated above, Annelise Cepero wasn't able to come back as Natalia. This would have left Buck without a storyline. So Tim decided to switch from Tommy dating Eddie to Tommy dating Buck. Edy Ganem was free and could come back as Marisol for season 7 to play Eddie's love interest because Tim Minear didn't want both Buck and Eddie without a partner.

In an interview in April 2024 he stated that he had no clue about Marisol and her character. (She doesn't even have a last name.) He didn't want to give her screentime to explore the character and went with what he had. Or better, what Kristen gave him - the nun storyline. The idea was amusing to him and he thought it would help to learn more about Eddie.

In the end Marisol didn't stick around. She didn't even get a proper on screen break-up, just vanished after the end of the Vertigo storyline for Eddie.

It might have to do with the actress behind the character. She showed her true self more than once, posting trans- and homophobic things on social media and kind of victimized herself. Therefore it was a win-win to let her go after season 7, story- and personwise.

In conclusion: I read it very often that people say that the actresses left just because they were harassed by Buddie fans. Like I said in the beginning, there might have been some fans that have acted that way.

But the reasons I listed above where the cause for them to leave or not to return to the show - other obligations, wrapped storylines etc. And not just because "Buddie fans were mean to them".

[supermaks]

scared isn’t the right word for it but this season is truly giving changing of the guard like it’s no longer just max whose being foxy with it. - just a girl who hates change

I mean I get u as a Max fan the rb20 does not give me the confidence that rb19 did, not at all, even tho by all means and ik it doesn't look like it, but it IS an evolution of the project, and u can c it how Max is able to put together laps in some of f1s tightest quali sessions in recent memory, like I c the vision, I think maybe the design itself has hit somewhat of a plateau and everybody else is catching up. Thats like what's supposed to happen. It shud have happened sooner ‼️ but when u have powerhouses like Merc and Ferrari in their flop era it makes sense it took 2 years because Mclaren wasn't ready either. They left Verstappen alone at the front wid a moody, razor sharp car that needs some special neurodivergent attention, bro will be putting bitches into comas for 2 seasons because that's the Schumi, Hamilton special and those are his peers. So if u are getting that lil feeling in ur tummy throughout a grand prix for the first time in a while and u don't like it .. like I wanna tell u rn baddie. for both our sakes... Max Verstappen will always be foxy wid it. Whtvr change ur about to witness he wont be a passive bystander. Do yk what we saw in Imola? Like do u really know. On Saturday Max went out there wid a crooked setup and no quali sim. He had one chance to nail the tow and put together a good enough lap and keep rbr alive. He did. Not the car, him. That frankenstein setup that they created had no information on the hardest compound either. On Sunday Max created the gap at the start by once again nailing his launch and squeezing the blood of Jesus out of those mediums in the first stint, and he got a black and white flag in the process. He was on the limit because he had to be. Again, they had no idea how the hards wud perform. When later on the tires dropped out of temperature, its also a black and white situation. Once it happens theres no going back. The tires lose pressure, car becomes slower, cant turn as well. In the final laps Lando never managed to get into drs detention because 1) Max was surgical in how and where he chose to empty his battery and try to keep his car afloat against a faster car 2) right before drs detention he braked early which forced Lando to do the same and ruined his momentum. He did this so effectively he managed to actually gain a lil bit before the gap dropped to less than a second. With track limits, on dead tires. Mind u, none of this is the car. Its never been the car. The car is what Max makes of it, always has been. Max's dominance has been used to discredit his worth as a driver when the whole point is that its only been as dominant, as mind numbing, as historical, because its him. He's also a girl who hates change and trust that if nothing else, if not the car, if not the team, he will put his thumb on the scale

[speckle-the-crow]

Marionetta is quite something. Doesn’t shy away from the harsh realities of living under a dictatorship. Young girls are told they don’t have value if you aren’t fertile and having their futures limited where your most likely choice to be a housewife. Julia just accepts that she might marry a man she might not love and vice versa just because the government told her so and because she wants to take care of her father. I can only imagine how her dad is doing while she’s having her circus adventure. Dotty probably isn’t even sending those letters considering Julia’s dad is a high ranking soldier. He might have considered the fact that he might never see Julia again.

omg, I totally forgot to respond to this!! 😭 I’m so sorry!

Quite frankly, I enjoy how straight up Marionetta is and doesn’t shy away from hard topics- it’s a 16+ Webtoon after all, and it’s earning the age rating whether it’s subtle jokes or themes of war and racism.

I 100% think Paul broke down while Julia’s been gone. If two days had him WRECKED when she was just a kid, imagine it 6 months later after Julia helped around the house. She did a lot of the chores for him since we don’t see her mom, so it’d be hard getting used to doing everything for himself again. I believe with my whole heart Paul is a good father.

Also, there’s no way Dotty’s sending the letters lol. She’s pissed off at Julia as we saw in episode 52 and probably doesn’t trust Kamille after 54. I like to think if anything, Dotty faked a letter that would somehow have Paul convinced. But it’s probably best (in Dotty’s mind) to keep no contact since if Paul thinks his daughter is dead, he won’t chase after her. If he’s given the smallest hint or hope that she’s alive, that man would 100% do ANYTHING to get her back. I love Paul dearly and hope to see more in this season 💖

[grapejuicestyless]

i’m rlly sad summers gone but like I have a winter request for conrad so we good !!

fem reader (conklinnn ofc) and conrad used to date but then had a messy breakup so now everyone is in college and yn doesn’t have anywhere to go because everyone is off doing something for winter break so she takes stevens car and drives down to the summer house and conrad shows up a day later and she’s freaking out. They both stay there the whole week and romantic feelings and nostalgia builds up again 🤌🏻

you can add some of your own stuff too because your soooo creative and your work is golden!! thank you:)

Peace.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Angst to fluff!

Summery: After a hard loss, both in a relationship and with the severing of the ties of her past, Y/n must learn to let go in order to gain what she so desperate wants back.

Snowfall is always overlooked. People see it as more of an inconvenience than as a gift. Each little white flake falling from the sky seems like nothing more than a mushy ball of frozen water made to block the roads and keep kids out of school, but the closer you look the more complex they are.

What was once so horrible becomes something beautiful, something unique. There is no other thing like it, each flake is different even by one branch in the pattern. It’s sad how many people are so quick to dismiss it and pout out their windows. White was never their favorite color and the cold was never their favorite temperature.

At this time of year, I usually considered myself lucky. I had a family who cherished each snowfall and a mother who would have hot-coco ready on the table for when our red cheeks and icy hair would become too much and we would finally come back inside to melt and warm up again. Each winter break my younger siblings, Steven and Belly would be attached at my hip. Having an older sister who only grew more and more, our time together always felt limited. So we spent each day in the living room. Playing the Wii with Steven and Barbies with Belly. I would read with my mom and cook with my dad. It was all so perfect. My favorite time of the year.

I used to joke with Conrad that college didn’t hold the same amount of excitement around the season because people were just as bitter and cold all year round. I called him cold hearted too because he thought it was funny. He laughed and kissed me then. I wonder if he would laugh now. Even if we no longer shared a stocking and cozied up by the fireplace impossibly close declaring our quiet loves for each other. I wonder if he still thinks fondly of the winter like I do now that it’s tainted with old memories of us.

Usually, during the winter I would drive down to Boston. It took some convincing for Laurel to allow her daughter to drive so far in such intense weather, but she knew where my heart belonged. It was the holidays and she was just as jolly as the rest of us, so she would always agree. There, I would bring gifts for all the Fishers. I didn’t have enough money to afford gifts and college, so everything was homemade. Every year I would apologize, but Susannah and Conrad always claimed to love it. Jeremiah wouldn’t say anything, but the smile on his face was always genuinely happy, so I think he liked them just as much.

Conrad would take my mitten clad hands after. Even covered in thick wool he managed to clasp his hands fully around mine, eager to get me alone. We’d slip away into his room, my cheeks red and eyelashes covered in snowflakes and his eyes wide and smile full. Behind closed doors, we could be as affectionate as we wanted without gags of jealousy disguised as disgust from Jeremiah or swooning from Susannah over how cozy we looked.

I remember how I believed my hips were made with dips so his hands could fit perfectly in them. How his arm rested on my waist so tight, I didn’t need a blanket because he kept me warm. No fireplace or layers of coats could light the flames in my heart and keep me warm in the coldest winters like Conrad could.

He said summer was his favorite season when he met me, but now he favored winter because it reminded him of me. I asked what would happen if something were to happen to us, just to tease him then. He got serious, I still remember the look on his face when he told me I would always be his favorite thing. How winter would forever remind him of me and no matter what, nothing could change that fact.

It was our own little secret oasis. A utopia of our own confined within the four walls of his childhood bedroom. When it snowed, we’d play in the snow like children and when it stormed we’d make forts to watch our favorite winter movies. It was a dream I never wanted to end, I was foolish to think it wouldn’t.

By spring, it felt like he was tired of me, of who I was. No amount of effort could keep Conrad beside me. I became someone he wasted his time on rather than someone he begged to be around. My skin was like fire to his touch, his eyes avoidant. It all came to a head when I broke down in late May.

“Why, why am I not enough?” I begged him then, I wanted to know what my problem was. Why I couldn’t be more than what I was now. Why we couldn’t go back.

He shrugged his shoulders, looking past my left shoulder. He looked distant. He knew it just as well as I did, we were walking on eggshells.

“Because you’re just not.” His words were bitter, knives stabbing me through the heart and ripping out. There was no reason, he didn’t even try to make the gashes in my heart better.

“Bullshit. I do everything for you! I give you everything!” It came out more as a question than a statement. I wasn’t as sure about what I once believed so firmly now that Conrad was showing how he felt.

“I guess it wasn’t enough then.” His eyes were watering. We were already talking in the past tense, we were over. He didn’t have to say it, neither did I. It was as clear as the freckles on his face, there was no amount of mending that could pull us back together.

In my mind I could only remember those final words we spoke to each other. The first hour of our long argument was washed from my mind for my own sake. What should’ve been tattooed permanently in my brain was gone the second we were over. Maybe if I could remember it fully, each insult and every word he used to put me down and make me feel small, I would’ve been able to feel justified in my anger. I could talk shit with my friends, shit on him to my mother. But even in my heartache, I couldn’t find reasons to be mad at him.

Conrad always went through so much on his own. It would be selfish of me to believe that he was completely okay when things ended. It was messy and sudden the way it happened. He was the biggest dick to me, but I couldn’t blame him for what he did. Not then, not now. Part of me still loved him. Part of me would still die for him in secret. He was my first love, all I knew when it came to my feelings. I let him rule my heart, my decisions. I didn’t show up to Cousins that summer.

Now that it was over, no ties binding us together, no overbearing reason to drive down to Boston for the weeks leading up to the holidays where we’d all finally be together again, I have no where to go. Steven was old enough to be on his own now, a freshman at Princeton. One of his rich friends had dropped by within the first twenty four hours to drag him off to his families vacation home. I hadn’t even set up the Wii yet. Belly, my littlest sibling who I adored more than anyone else I knew was more distant than Steven. The stress of deciding between Finch and Jeremiah or some state school with the guarantee of being on volleyball was eating her alive. Back then, I would’ve told her not to lose sight of her dreams and life because of some boy, but here I was doing the same thing. I stayed quiet and let her decide what she wanted.

My mom was gone just like Steven. Away to talk about her book with other critically acclaimed writers and producers. My dad was out of the picture. He wouldn’t be back until Christmas morning. He was never really present after the divorce, but he’s a good man and he tries his best. He just works a lot. It hurts to not be able to enjoy the holidays like I used to, but I can respect why everyone’s away.

Somehow, I end up in Stevens drivers seat. I’ve never had a car of my own. While Steven spent weeks searching the internet for a cheep car, I spent my time studying for finals and applying to colleges. I never had the time. He gave me his keys before he left. He said I could take his car anywhere I wanted as long as I didn’t ruin it. Each dent in it, I would owe him ten bucks. It wasn’t much, but to a struggling college student, ten dollars in my bank account might as well have been him asking for hundreds.

“Belly, I’m heading out. Call me if you need me, okay? I might not be back for awhile.” The words I chose were ominous. I didn’t tell her where I was going, why I was going or how long I’d be exactly, but she didn’t care enough to ask. So I climbed into Stevens car and let my playlist shuffle. I imagine myself in the situations my favorite artists write about and sing along like I can relate to their upper class parties and juvenile activities. It keeps my mind off of where I’m going.

It’s not like I got in the car set on heading to the one place that once swore to never step foot near again, but when I recognize the signs on the highway pointing me in the same direction, I’m suddenly set on it.

The sting of the breakup lingered like a tattooed kiss, a reminder of something so special that was now gone. I wouldn’t let him ruin the place that was once so special to our families.

Pulling up to that driveway, I remember how the weeds would grow over the gravel by July and how Steven and Jeremiah would stay out for hours plucking at them to make Susannah happy. How the grass held the imprints of our small bodies rolling around the hills and daffodils. The sand was forever glued into the fabric of our favorite t-shirts and the salt air is what we smelled of until December washed it away.

We were always so close here. Despite the rifts and the problems that happened between us. Not blow out fight or silent treatment could ever separate the Conklin’s and the Fishers from each other for long.

I looked back on how I felt at home. How together was something that I never even questioned. Steven would be by the fireplace yelling at the television and Belly would be begging him to quiet down. Laurel would be curled up in the corner scribbling things into a notepad and dad would try to sneakily move the elf on the shelf.

We were older now. The wii wasn’t all that special and Belly longed for the chaos she once hated. Steven preferred his friends and mom and dad fell out of love so mom could learn to love her work more.

I pulled into the large house through the garage. I knew the code by heart, it was my phone passcode. I figured that if I wanted to stay attached to homeliness so badly I could be where I learned what love was the best.

In my head, even now I always believed that no matter how long it would go untouched, the summer home would always be bright and warm. Smelling of Susannah’s candles and Belly’s sticky iced teas.

Stepping through the front door, it was dark and cold. My breath was less visible than in the outside, but the light and heat didn’t bounce from wall to wall like it always did.

It took me a few minutes to find the correct switch to turn up the heat. I cranked it until my socks burned on my feet and a sweat covered the top of my forehead. It was comfortable, I could sink into my own chunky sweater.

It was my mothers, the blue and white striped sweater I wore. She was gifted it by Susannah in their late college years but it never quiet fit her because she was so short. It fit big, but it didn’t sag at my knees or gather at my wrists as much. It smelled like my mom and reminded me of Pennsylvania skies.

The warmth from the heat and the comfort from my clothes set me in a slump, my eyes drooped. I hadn’t even turned on any lights yet, hadn’t gone up to my room to make the bed. I was sat in place on the permanently indented couch. Though my body curled into the spot where I always laid during movie nights, my head fell where Conrad’s lap would’ve been. To imagine we were all just as happy, as close made me feel fuzzy. If I tried hard enough I could even hear his voice. Calling for me, like a dream.

The sun peaked through the windows and the dust that collected on the once neatly kept glass projected tiny shadows and spots across the hardwood floor. The couch was warm with my body heat and other than the faint whisper of the wind, it was peaceful.

A melodic whistle blowed through the open gap between the living room and the kitchen. It was smooth yet broke when the song grew too high for the deeper voice that carried the tune.

Rubbing at my eyes, my feet swung out from under my thighs, I wiped away any drool or signs of slumber. Still, clearing my complexion did not rid my body of the tired achey feeling and the small blurring of my vision. My brain was following behind my body, every caution sign to who was here at this time thrown to the wind.

Mugs clanked together clumsily, my nose burned with the strong scent of coffee beans. It was chillier in the morning here than how I had left it at night, I could feel the tip of my nose turning red and growing colder.

A taller boy stood hunched over the countertops, a spoon clinking around softly as he stirred around something in the mug. His shirt hung loose on his body but his pants fit just right.

His hair was wavy, but only just at the ends. Under the strong smells of early morning caffeine, I could faintly still pick up the scent of sea salt and a spice I couldn’t name. It was vanilla like but also had a lingering smell of oak and woods. It was my favorite smell.

“Conrad..?” It clicked in my brain that the handsome boy hanging around the summer home wasn’t some pick me up sent from heaven. The reason behind my instant admiration for such a simple, domestic task was because of how well I knew and once loved the boy. The name fell from my lips quietly, like I couldn’t believe it was true.

Spinning around, I met his blue eyes. I watched his lips twitch, fighting against some kind of emotion from spreading across his face and the light in his eyes falter. He looked blank, unaware of how his lack of enthusiasm of our reuniting was crushing me inside.

“Figured you’d want coffee.” He was right. He still knew me like the back of his own hand and that was the worst part. I hadn’t changed, I never would. He would always know me and it hurt to know I trusted him like that at one point just for him to leave. He even made it in my favorite mug.

A light blue ceramic mug that still had Belly and Conrad’s fingerprints in the clay and visible brush strokes across the top. They made it for me when we were still little. It was my favorite gift from her because they made it as an apology. For breaking my old vase I made for my mom in art class. They meant to harm and felt horrible, I cherished their kindness more than anything.

“No…no. I’m all set.” Crossing my arms and clearing my throat, I set my eyes on the ground and leaned against the doorframe on the wall. We didn’t speak after that, he didn’t move. Sucking in his lips, I heard him sigh almost disappointedly.

“So…” He tried to start, I was too scared to listen. Not of him, god I could never be scared of him. But of what he could want to say.

My eyes flicked over the dents in the floor, I discovered marks I hadn’t seen before. Just when I thought I had everything memorized. When I thought I knew everything, when I thought I knew him.

“You know, uhm…I think I’m going to settle in.” Nodding at him quickly, I all but ran to the stairs. My hands gripped at the banister so quickly, I felt skin pull skin. It tore just under my fingers beginning, the top of my palm. I swore I heard him call after me, but maybe it was the ringing in my ears.

I came here to get away. In search of some solace, I grasped at the tattered strands of my childhood to find that I had held on too long. In my own journey, by some sort of fate, I dragged along a deeper part of those memories with me.

I spent that morning stowed away in my bedroom. I left the door ajar. The air was chilly still, and the air dusty. The heat had rarely been used. Only on the rare occasions in which Susannah would find reason to escape down to the beautiful town of Cousins. Simply to watch the early snowfalls or sparkling lights decorating the center of the town. Usually when I would get settled into my own room in the summer home, each knickknack would be thrown carelessly over the bureau top and shoved in the forever empty bedside table drawers. I would procrastinate making my bed last. I hated the damned fitted sheets and the wrinkles I couldn’t flatten for days. I hated the way that the corners never stayed. My body stretched as far as it would go, yet I could never quiet hook the fabric far enough to keep it settled.

Today was no different. My blood boiled the same, but it mixed with an unfamiliar warmth. How endearing it was to be able to relive such a memorable moment of my summers again even after tragedy struck the once uniting household.

“Fuck.” The sheets flipped up. The full sized mattress was far too wide to allow my arms to stretch across the full width of its body and hook the corners over far enough to where they wouldn’t slip. Each move resulted in a different kind of release with the bedsheets. Each time I ended up wrapped up in the thin cotton sheets.

The clock ticking on my bedside table taunts me. Reminds me of how long I’ve been tangled around in my bed. If it weren’t so humiliating, I would’ve asked for help. But I created a mess. My feelings, one’s that Conrad had so clearly buried as he was able to be kind and cordial towards me while I panicked like a fish out of water. So I hop around from corner to corner desperate to finish my task.

“Y/n?” The name burns the way it rolls off of his tongue. Like even with me gone, he had practiced pronouncing it in the mirror, whispered it to himself each night. It was like we’d seen each other the day before, the way it came out. Breathless and light.

The moon hung over the house, illuminating thin strips of shine through the windows that led from the floor to the very bed I was sprawled across.

Sighing heavily, I threw my head back. Hair fell in front of my face, tickling the bridge of my nose. I saw Conrad hesitate. His hand flinched out from where it was tucked behind the doorframe. He set it on the white wood frame.

“Can I help?” It was innocent enough. Maybe he was sick of the sound of my knees rubbing against the mattress. Or the way I grunted every few minutes. I stumbled around my room all day fixing it up, I almost forgot how loud it could’ve been.

It felt sour to accept it. Even if it were as innocent and kind as it seemed. Conrad had a glimmer of hope in his eye and his lips upturned. He looked so handsome still, nose pinker from the slight chill and eyes still just as deep blue.

“No thank you.” I huffed. I tried to sound annoyed, something that was hard to do when you weren’t really all that annoyed at all. Resistant was the only similar thing I could place a name to. I saw the wag Conrad’s smile faltered, his eyes looming with a dark shadow, masking the vibrant sparkle.

“Come on, don’t be so stubborn, please? You’ve been at it for hours, just let me help.” Stubborn. Just like my mother and his. Each of us were always set to do things on our own. But this was far more than just genetics at this point. This was my own grudge I was holding. This was my pride and my responsibility over my emotions acting. No matter how nice the gesture, I still refused, gnashing my teeth.

“Oh, so suddenly you care?” It was a lot more mean than I meant it. I know how much Conrad cares. How much he always has. He doesn’t have the best way to show for it, but in the end you always know it. It was a mistake, an instant regret. I watched how his face contorted. He wasn’t just disappointed now, but genuinely hurt by my own dig at his insecurities.

His whole life, Conrad always feared he wasn’t enough. He couldn’t give enough, couldn’t be enough. He always talked himself down, creating a false standard in which everyone else was above him, out of his league. He was insecure. He didn’t need reassurance, he knew what kind of love was real and what was fake, but the fact that maybe I had thought the same crushed him. I could tell.

His silence hung over us so heavy, a knife could slice it. His jaw stuttered and his eyes blinked slow. A loss for words. I wish he could just yell at me. Fuel my fire, make me feel less bad about what I said. Less guilty about the fact I couldn’t get over us when he could. Conrad didn’t deserve my emotional daggers directed at his heart simply because we split. I know Conrad, I always have. His method of leaving was cruel, but the boys heart was in the right place always.

“Fuck!” The sheet snapped back. I had enough. In all seriousness, I should’ve stopped to talk to the boy who was so clearly hurt by the door. A girl, a guest in a house that once felt just as much as hers as his was there in a now occupied room throwing insults unprovoked when he was trying to be nice.

Standing, I stumbled past him clumsily again, taking a spare blanket that hung off the end of the bed with me. I couldn’t take it. His stares, the silence, the sheet, my own guilt, my thoughts. I needed to be out of that sickened room.

“Y/n…” Again, the call was faint. A whisper in my head whose only goal was to make me stop. I didn’t turn. It was unfair, the whole thing. To me, to Conrad. I decided to sleep on the couch.

My back ached. The plush cushioning under my back too soft, too worn in. A good remedy, a great place for a quick nap. But it hurt after more than a few hours. The fabric rubbed harshly, the pillows sunk in. My hips popped when I stood.

The sun was shining through the windows, air crisp. Heat finally reached all corners of the large house and the cob webs were finally swept away. The magic of summer wasn’t there, but it felt homely. A good alternative to the sad loneliness of my own bedroom at home.

The house was still, the kitchen untouched and an empty mug in the sink. It was stained in a ring from where the old drink had been and had little brown streaks from where the coffee dripped off of the sides. The counter tops were cold, despite the heat inside. The floor was quiet, there was no shuffling. It led me to believe that the only other occupant was still asleep.

Heading up the stairs, I picked at my old clothes. The discomfort came from multiple things. The way my clothes stuck to my body, my teeth didn’t feel right in my mouth. My hair was knotted. I looked fine, but nothing felt right. The only way to describe it was that when waking up after a rough couple of nights, it felt like my skin didn’t fit right over my bones.

My door was wide open. The hinges bent all the way back, the light bled through the curtains. My already slow steps came to a halt when the threshold fell behind my legs. My bed was decorated with the same blue floral design it always had during the summers.

The pillows were placed where I always had them, and my blankets were hung so neat on the bottom of my bed. My fingers ran over the soft fabric like it wasn’t really mine. Like I was admiring a sample from a store, wishing it were mine. It was always so pretty.

My thumb hooked over the folded edge very carefully. I didn’t want to mess with the perfectly made bed. More importantly, I didn’t want to crease the remaining hand prints that laid in the center of the bed.

The plushy duvet left residue from bigger hands. Spread along the bends, from the center down. Proof that someone had truly tried their best to perfect it.

Looking under the top, not only had each layer been placed, but the fitted sheet. I could see it now with all its layers peeled back. The thought that even after my initial attempts to push away, to be mean, to hurt him, that Conrad had still wanted to help me made me feel warm. I wasn’t sure why my heart was fluttering for a boy I swore I hated. But my cheeks were red and my knees felt weak. I always did love his acts of service.

I didn’t plan on showering, but my skin was sticky with sleep and my heart was pounding too fast. I hated the fact that Conrad was too good for everyone in his own special ways. I hated the way he still cared and the way he remained so observant even in our absence. Most of all, I hate the way I reach for his shampoo in the shower. Longing for the scent of him to linger on me for just a little longer. How funny it is that we’ve changed so quickly and yet not at all. We used to share our hair products. He kept a hair tie for me in his bedside table. I had a drawer of clothes in his room, he had some in my closet. He went from my everything to just something in my life. Yet, with all this change I still reach for the familiarities of what we once had. My hand still searches the shower for his conditioner. My feet still take me to his door to find a shirt I like. What we had is gone, crushed under the weight of our separation, but my muscle memory pulls me back. The heart is a muscle, one that forever beats for Conrad Fisher.

I sit in the corner for longer than I lather the soap across my skin. My body is curled up against the cold tiles. I feel pathetic doing so. How small I’ve made myself. Not only mentally, but physically. I feel weak at how little self control I have. I think back on the past year of my life and I regret each decision I’ve made leading me here suddenly.

Was I not enough for Conrad? I know it’s not his reasoning behind his leaving, but I feel like the theory becomes more and more plausible the longer I think back on how lonely I’ve been. So stuck on my own problems, I forget how little I see my family. How Belly has grown without me. Her friends, her lovers. She is independent, she knows her path. Steven has matured. He understands feelings, he’s valedictorian. His brains lead him through life, he no longer comes to me at midnight to ask for help with math. I no longer review his essays or read his made up stories in the living room. We are two different siblings who once spent every moment together. My mother is nose deep in her own promotion with her books. She is succeeding while my father is going on dates and moving on. I am stuck in the same spot, forever thinking of the past, I can not move on.

I am scared by the knowledge that my family is no longer dependent on me. A scab is forming over the wound of the fact that Conrad has left, I am not needed. I hope the warm water fading into a cooler drizzle will hide the way my eyes are puffy and red. The streaks of water on cheeks will become streams of the shower. I am strong and resistant like my parents, but I am scared to admit that I have real fears. Ones that control my life. I will never tell them how I breakdown, how my heart is breaking and I am falling off the pedestal.

It’s more lively now then it was just an hour ago. The birds are gone, on vacation away in the warmer weather while the cold covers New England in a chilling blanket. I hear the mugs clattering from the hallways and the soft humming passing through his pink lips. He hears me before he sees me.

“Coffee?” He motioned to the brown liquid, steaming while it poured into the glass pitcher. Rubbing beneath my eyes, I could feel the weight of my eye bags heavy on my skin. My throat was coarse, hands aching from how hard I had grasped onto the shower walls. I hid behind the island counter on the stool. My body curled up into the baggy clothes covering my body, my knees hugging into my chest as close as possible.

“Yes, please.” I mumbled softly, trying not to show any weaknesses. Conrad knew me better than that. The way my lip twitched into a fake smile, how my eyes were more avoidant that usual. Even in my heavy feelings, my eyes were always drawn to him. I was closing myself off.

A beat passed. Conrad’s attempt at conversation had fallen short, right by my feet.

“How’d you sleep?” He turned to me, freshly brewed coffee sloshing around in the same mug as yesterday. He placed it in front of me, but he turned away again to pour his own cup. It wasn’t to further distance himself, creating a divide all while I was shutting down, but to give me room to breathe in a space I was so clearly suffocating in.

“It was okay.” I sighed, hand holding my head, my eyes closed. I imagined myself laid with my back pressed against plush pillows and my childhood bedroom fairy lights hanging over my head. It was still winter, but the atmosphere in my daydream felt of summer.

“I’m glad, then. That it wasn’t so bad, I mean.” He corrected himself, afraid of a wrath inside of me that didn’t exist to him anymore. It never really had, my emotions had only been misplaced yesterday.

Often I’ve been told that my words shoot to kill when I’m mad. I insult and belittle myself more than others, but my mother has no problem with bringing up the few times I targeted my feelings at Steven or Belly. How little I made them feel, how guilty I felt. I threw up once, after yelling at Steven. He hadn’t cared for it, fighting was what siblings did. But remembering how I tried to hurt him made me sick. I felt the same after insulting Conrad.

Nodding my head, I pursed my lips into a thin line. My eyes blinked away any dryness, I inhaled a deep breath.

“Hey, uhm…thank you, by the way.” I pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, hovering over the cup of coffee to revel in the hot steam hitting my face.

Conrad turned around, leaning against the counter. His hands pressed up behind him, firm but his face was soft, glad.

“I shouldn’t have…you didn’t deserve that.” My eyes flickered between the floor and the folding of my sleeves over my thumbs. My skin was cold, my hair wet on the back of my neck. I had a lump in my throat.

“Y/n?” His voice was gentle, closer than before. I saw his elbows press against the counter top, just mere inches away. I felt even more awkward, littler than before somehow.

I hummed. But the coarseness in my throat made it come out as more of a rumble. I choked on the growing lump, my nose burned.

“We don’t have to avoid each other.” He said it like that was so easy. Like everything was resolved by him simply stating that he didn’t want to face the consequences of our actions.

“I know.” I brought the edge of the mug to my lips and blew. Steam clouded my vision, the wet heat felt nice on my cheeks.

“Y/n.” He said more firmly.

He wasn’t angry, but he wanted my attention. My eyes flickered up to his. They were darker now. Swarmed with so many emotions, it was hard to grasp onto what he was feeling. I set the mug down.

“Please don’t avoid me.” He begged more softly, his hand hesitated to reach out to me. Once they clasped around mine, it was almost relieving. Having something familiar to ground me while I was only working myself up. “I miss you, I miss us. We were best friends and we haven’t even spoken in…I don’t even know how long. This, this is stupid. To be running in circles like this?”

“That’s easy for you to say.” This time, my words weren’t angry. They broke apart when I spoke. The sentence was raw, the lump in my throat broke through my clenched teeth and my nose heated up in an intense burn. My eyes were heavy, working hard to keep any tears at bay. Again, here I find myself in a different spot, practicing the same habits. I stand in front of Conrad angry, ready to hurt his ego and pierce a hole through his heart just to ease my own mind.

I wanted exactly what he did, to be as close. I missed him more than anything in my life ever, but it wasn’t so simple. He pleaded my name again, I pulled my hands out of his. His fingers were like a barbed wire. It suddenly stung to have him touching me.

“I just wish you would’ve acknowledged it, you know? I mean look at me, look at us. You’re fine, you’re happy. I can’t even look at you without wanting to cry.” When our hearts broke, they broke uneven. Conrad was left with a bruise why I was facing the pain of a bleeding scar across my own. He had been the one to cause the rift, he had been the one to bring up everyone’s insecurities, use them against our relationship.

“Y/n.” He whispered, reaching out to me again. I stood from the stool, keeping my distance. My tears were hot, they burned into my skin.

“You couldn’t even stand me, Conrad! And I couldn’t see it before, but I can now. You couldn’t even text me, no. No, but that’s not the worst part. Maybe it’s the fact that you couldn’t even show up to Stevens graduation because I was there.” He sighed, ready to defend himself. I look back on all the disappointed faces, I remember the way Steven frowned at that empty seat beside me and I feel angry.

“Do you know how hard it is to tell your baby brother that his hero couldn’t make it to his graduation because he can’t even stand to be around me? Do you know how sad he was when he started to walk up to the podium and saw your seat was empty? I recorded it and sent it to you, did you know that? I wasn’t going to, I didn’t think you deserved to have a part in one of the most important parts in Stevens life, but he begged me to. Tried to make me send it twice so you’d get it.” I took a deep breath, wiping away the tears by my eyes, more spilled. My face was wet with salt water and red with anger.

“So why don’t we go back to how things were before after you’ve fucked it all up!”

“It’s really fucking unfair of you to act like this hasn’t affected me at all either!” He finally shot back. He was never one to yell. Conrad always had some sort of control over his composure. He never yelled, he hated yelling.

“How, how can you say that after you’ve done nothing to fix anything!” Walking closer to him, I saw how he turned away to grip the counter between his fingers.

“People deal with shit differently, Y/n. Grow up!” He yelled. His eyes were wild, it should’ve scared me. But god, him telling me to grow up after all he put me through only made me angrier. I was fragile already. But not as a flower, but a bomb.

“Fuck you, Conrad.” My voice was shaky, but firm. I didn’t yell, my lack of volume was almost scarier than my inevitable rage. He looked up at me, it was like watching him realize how his words had betrayed him. He hadn’t meant for us to fight, to talk like this. He wanted to fix things. He wanted me back.

“Y/n.” He shook his head, walking closer to me, he bent away from the edges of the island to reach me quicker. His voice was laced with pity

“Stop saying my name!” I backed away, feet catching on the threshold, I slowed myself down. Each time he said it, it pulled on my heartstrings. How could he be so selfish to not even be able to see all the pain I’ve been put through!

“I’ve missed you ever since I left you! You think I don’t regret the way I treated you? I’m not naïve to my own stupidity, I know my mistakes, I’ve owned them. You were my everything, god you might as well have hung the stars!” He waved his hands around to animate what he was saying. It only stresses me out more.

“Then why? Why did you throw it all away!” My body began to crumble beneath me, my knees wobbled.

“Because I was scared! I was scared of losing you. I thought if I let myself become too obsessed, that if you decided to leave me I would never be able to get back up. I had to do it!” He confessed. It all made sense then. All my unanswered questions, all my insecurities of not being enough. Conrad hadn’t left because I couldn’t give him what he wanted. He left because he was scared of what would happen when I was gone. That he wasn’t enough.

“I wouldn’t have left you, Conrad. I wouldn’t have.” My palms hit my eyes, my knees started to give. A sob ripped through my throat. It hurt to breathe.

His arms were like a blanket. His hands still fit perfectly around my back. When he held me, it was tight. I knew it then that he wouldn’t be letting me go, not now. His shirt was wet with my tears, mine was wet with my hair. I felt stupid, naïve to think of Conrad in such bad ways when he had only been doing what he thought was best to protect his heart after loss after loss.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I repeated it like a prayer, I didn’t mean to be so mean. I didn’t want to be rude to him, I wanted him to be close to me always. His heart was beating out of his chest when he nodded. He knew I never meant to fight him. We were both entitled to our feelings, there was no reason in trying to apologize for how we reacted.

His hand lifted to my head, brushing through my hair. He gathered a chunk in his palm, his knuckles gripping at it. It didn’t hurt, he didn’t intend for it to. He was breathing me in, holding onto me in every which way possible.

“It’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.” My sobs were muffling themselves, quieting down into soft whimpers. It took a lot to even nod my head against his shirt. It smelled like him, and it was homely. I felt safer now than in our argument. Our words held no value anymore, I just hoped that what he said was true.

Holding her like that almost made things feel normal again. Having her hair in between my fingers and her waist pressed against mine. I wanted to revel in it, selfishly. But her sniffles and uneven breath only made me remember why I even got the privilege to hold her again.

Again and again, I watched her breakdown over a mistake I made. To protect myself. I swore it to her last winter, promised her that it would always be my favorite season because she was my favorite thing. I built up this trust and a love between us. It was when she left that I freaked out over what my mom said.

“I’ve never seen you so happy.” She had said, poncho bc my cheek between her fingers. Playfully, I pulled my face away.

“Yea?” I mused, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and watched the steady snowfall on the final night of winter through the window.

“The love bug’s got you.” She was right. I was so undeniably in love with Y/n. I would change everything in my life just to be with her always.

“What?” My eyes squinted from the way my eyebrows furrowed. She was still looking out into the snow.

“It’s okay to be in love, Connie.” She quickly turned to me and smoothed out my shirt. She sensed my confusion and stress. I knew I was in love with her, but the fact that it was that obvious, that clear made me worry.

“Everyone has their first love at some point.” With that she left. At some point. The words rung through my head. I knew that the first love was always the strongest, but this was not my first love. I had fallen for an ex-girlfriend in freshman year. She broke my heart. Why was the thought of Y/n leaving shattering mine completely?

The more I thought of us together then, the more I worried about her leaving. She was perfect for me, maybe. But could I even measure up to her perfection? Could I give her everything?

I was able to push that feeling away for a few weeks. But as winter turned to spring and the leave began to regrow, I couldn’t shake it. Distance was a thing I was only growing between us. Space, something I created so there was no way we could get hurt. I thought it was the right thing, then. I thought it was the right move for me to let her leave so easily. To watch her fight for me one last time and not react. I was giving her the chance for someone more, someone better. I didn’t know I was only breaking her heart in ways I worried I would break my own.

It was a guilt I lived with all these months. When she didn’t come up to cousins because she wasn’t feeling good, I knew why. I had avoided her like the plague after our last conversation, our first real fight. I couldn’t even show up for her family in one of their most important milestones. Now it seemed like we only fight now, or at least in these past couple hours.

My neck was stiff from how it leaned against the back of the couch. I hadn’t watched past the hour mark of the black and white movie Conrad had put on. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I no longer liked it.

The movie was all I watched when I was at my absolute worst. Not to say I wasn’t still there, I felt rock bottom beneath my feet, but I felt myself getting better slowly. I no longer spent each day rewatching the same film over and over to ease the pain and remind myself of a happier time. I hated the way they talked. I once found it romantic, but the old cracking in the sound and the fancy accents made me angry. None of it was real.

To Conrad, he only did what he thought I would like. He had no way of knowing of my new distaste to the movie. One I used to rave about for hours. Then again, he never asked.

Yawning, I felt a set of eyes on mine.

“Tired?” He asked, a small smile on his face. I waved him off.

“Nope.” I popped the ‘p.’ It was an easy lie, my dark circles and slouchy posture gave it away. There was no way to sell it. I was surprised when he didn’t push me on it. My eyes drooped, my cheek pressed to my lonely shoulder. I had no one to lean on. I curled into myself a little, all while silently telling myself I was awake.

A pillow hit my lip, I bit down a little but it didn’t hurt me. My eyes were wide open now, hair messed up around the top. My fly aways were all over the place, my eyes squinting.

“Hey!” Grabbing the corners of the pillow, I swung as hard as I could towards Conrad, the culprit. It his his chest, he groaned out in a heavy breath. The pillow was soft, I was sure it didn’t hurt. But he entertained the idea that it did by rubbing circles in his chest, wincing and hissing through his teeth. I rolled my eyes.

“Seriously?” I leaned back against the cushions again, placing the pillow comfortably over my lap. I heard him laugh. A real, genuine laugh. It felt like weight was lifted off of my back.

“What! That was one of my best performances.” He punched my shoulder. I shot him playful glares. He pushed at me again, begging for a reaction. I folded already, giving into his games and retaliating against his childish attacks. But I would not crumble so easily. I would not let him tease me and play me until I opened up again just hours after yet another fight. I worried that another would ensue.

Sitting up, I tossed the pillow back at him. The sound he made confirmed it had hit him in the face.

“Come on, where are you going?” I could hear the smile in his voice. It made me smile too, knowing he was happy.

“To bed, I am tired.” I didn’t look back, but I felt him watching.

I swore I heard words die on his tongue. A soft stutter to a dead silence. Like he wanted to protest but stopped himself somehow. He never saw me look back, but when I was turning to the stairs, I allowed myself a glimpse.

His eyes were spacey, lip pulled between his front teeth. His eyebrows furrowed. He was deep in thought, but I could see the disappointment in his face. He didn’t seem as full of life, as cheerful. We were rebuilding a childhood, best friend bond that was lost with in cracking of our foundations in the spring.

“Goodnight, Conrad.” I still hadn’t had the ability to carry a joke with him. To keep a conversation flowing without my emotions dying inside of me before I could get them out. I whispered my goodnight. I wanted him to know I still held a place in my heart for him, but part of me wanted to reserve that knowledge to only myself.

I was scared to be more than what was being proposed. The door was open, we were almost friends. It was an odd spot. We’d act like friends, joke like them, but we both knew what we had done, what had just happened. I would walk through the entrance if Conrad would allow it. If we could at least be close, even if his lips weren’t mine, even if his body wasn’t there for me to lean on anymore. I would live happily, I’d be able to put on a brave face and call myself his friend. I would stand by the alter, watching him find another love, burying the hatchet of our love for good and I would be okay, I decided. As long as I still had him. As long as I never had to feel as alone as I did this morning.

“They’re saying borderline blizzard conditions, Con. You don’t think we’ll need to go on a supply run, do you?” His back was turned to me, hands working over the pot of coffee skillfully. His thumb brushed against the glass, he hissed quietly and shook his hand off.

“I think you’re just overthinking it.” He payed my worry not attention. He knew this house better than I did. It would hold, that wasn’t the worry. We had no shovels, nothing to dig us out of snow were to block us in. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. I made my way around the island, pushing myself off of the counter and into one of the stools perched under it.

“Coffee?” Conrad asked, ignoring my questions again. I gave into him, playing his game and being stubborn.

“What kind?” My fingers drew circles on the cold marble.

“Black.” He set the cup down in front of me, letting it come to a halt right in front of me. My eyes flickered to the coffee, a smirk fighting it’s way onto my cheeks.

“Like your soul?” Like your heart, is what I wanted to say. Something that used to come so easy, meaningless insults directed at him not to make him sad, but to make him smile. I still hadn’t answered by question, though. If I were to direct a remark at his heart, would it weigh too much under the cracking foundation of our recovering friendship? I still wondered if he would laugh at that and go along with it.

Conrad laughed, looking out the window and admiring the sky. He didn’t respond, but he never really had when I’d make those jokes. Usually he would laugh or tell me it was a good one. He sighed lightly.

“I walked right into that one.” He smiled down at his coffee now, holding the mug loose with the handle dangling between his fingers.

When silence took over the room, it wasn’t uncomfortable. We welcomed it. We were alone with our thoughts and for once, they weren’t twisted and heavy. Only happy memories and thoughts of old habits.

In my mind, I dreamed of times where I knew what to say after making a joke. What I could do to counter a snarky remark and his laughter. I always knew what to say to him, when and why. I knew what made him tick. I still knew how to set him off, I believe that once you have the ability to get under someone’s skin, you never truly lose it. Either you continue to poke at the wounds that hurt them so, or your presence is able to remind them of it. Yet, with all the loss in my every heartbeat, somewhere along the way I forgot how to keep him happy.

Conrad’s footsteps snapped me out of my clouded haze. My eyes snapped up from the counter to his face. He didn’t look at me, but stayed focused on his coffee.

“Glad to know you still got it.” His eyes flicked to me, I swear I saw him wink. It was so quick, my words died in a pathetic stutter. I smiled stupidly at him, I couldn’t even pretend to be snarky. It caught me off guard, somehow. My walls were torn down now, the barrier of anger and sadness I kept up around him to keep us apart gone with our last fight and heart to hearts. The devils in the details, but somehow it didn’t feel as deep, as life changing anymore.

It was like he knew I couldn’t think of something to promise to him. To keep us going. He surely hadn’t lost it.

I tried to rationalize everything recently. But it felt like it took over my life. I’d almost forgotten about Belly and Steven. How they’d been so quick to shut me out simply because someone had offered me a place to be wanted for a moment. Conrad always knew when to swoop in to save me. I could help but talk myself down every so often and convince myself that Conrad is not made of Angel dust. He simply is a man, and a smart one at that. All of this could be just to butter me up, I know it’s always an outcome. A way to win me back, but never want me the same. It poisons me to think about him that way, I know him. He would never play me to become the good guy.

My mind has no middle line. Constantly wavering between my lover, the man I see as the sky and the seas. I see him as a perfect lipstick stain to a white collar, uggs in the fall, hot chocolate in the winter. He is all things I love and yet I still fight. The other part of me fights my heart to keep my distance. How just hours ago I told myself the hate I had for Conrad was always going to be just that, irreversible hurt that he caused. It’s the sweetest torture I could bare in the fact that really, by the end of it my mind is set on just getting to be with him again. No matter what his games are.

It’s pathetic, but my heart strings pull a little whenever I hear his footsteps upstairs. When I can tell if he’s coming to see me or not. I like knowing he likes to be around me once more. It almost covers up the fact that he hurt me so bad. I’m not idiot, however. I wish I were in some cases, but I’m not blinded completely by my love. With every advance, I find a way to make it platonic. He’s my friend.

He said he missed me, our friendship bond. I know that he is a man of his word. I should not work myself up, I shouldn’t expect so much. I shouldn’t jump into his arms because he says go. I think rationally, I use my head. I let my heart race and my cheeks flush but ultimately my brain will stop me from messing about again. So part of me finds it sad when the power goes out later that day. For both the house and myself. It’s childish how quickly I jump in search of Conrad. I have to remind myself not to hold onto him, not to yell I told you so.

I call for his name quietly through the halls, feeling the chipping paint under my finger tips. It’s still fresh, but bumpy. A previous project of Susannah’s from when her paint brushes never seemed to dry out. It’s hard to tell if she never finished her projects that summer. Or even if she never finished any.

In the dark, it’s almost more clear to see where her brush strokes end. Where the moonlight illuminates the white and blues, you can see the divides between old and new. God, if she were any less attentive it would surely be the end of this house. It was in great condition, but some things were out of place, uncared for simply because Susannah’s mind went a mile a minute.

Smiling, I let my hands run over the wall, feet planting on the cold wood. I could feel it through my socks, with the lights out and the heat stuttering to a halt.

“Y/n/n, hey.” He sounded breathless, coming up from behind me. I hadn’t even noticed the stomping of his feet up the staircase as my fingers danced along the wall. So caught up in the past I find it that sometimes I forget that I’m living in my present. Looking around my metaphorical room in my mind, I see my chosen family. I see his brother as mine, his mother as mine. I see myself as a child again running through the sand and tracking mud through the dining room.

I know deep down I can not keep holding on, keep on keeping myself back. I can never give Conrad peace, but I can give him my sunshine, my best. He would always have a friend in me. I set my heart free then, fingers stuck to the wall, eyes flickering to my feet. I let go of my heart break and my solemn silences I throw at my loved ones for guilt. I let my walls down, I take Conrad’s hand, and I shake my head. His smile is warm, his eyes loving. He still needs me, he always has. He still loves me and my heart is racing. I finally feel like I have him back.

“You okay?” Back in reality, I’m aware that I’m not actually holding onto his hand, and Conrad isn’t really smiling at me. My heart is still in its cage and I have fallen victim to my own mind again. Conrad is not mine.

Clearing my throat, I lick at the corners of my lips. When I shake my head this time, I know it’s real because Conrad is looking at me questioningly. He is not in love with me, he is not drooling over me. The power is still out and our muddy footprints mean nothing to him anymore.

“We blew a fuse, but the generators dead. We’re just going to have to stick it out.” I nodded again, looking up at him with doe eyes. My lips were glossy with a sheen coat of spit from how much I licked them, but at them nervously. Yet, he didn’t even spare me a glance. It was almost like he was waiting on something.

“You can say it.” He finally sighed.

“Say what?” His eyes caught mine, seeing just how intently my eyes focused on his dimples and the bridge of his nose decorated with delicate freckles. I cleared my throat.

“You told me so.” He smiled, punching my shoulder playfully. He could tell my mind was drifting, he could see it, I saw the way his eyes softened. My gentle smile turned into a shit-eating grin.

A beat passed, he continued waiting on me in the dark room. I liked it in some odd ways. Enjoyed having him waiting on me for once. It wasn’t the same. How my heart waited for his apologies for so long, how I expected it because I knew one day he would come back to me to make things right in his own way. But somehow, his desire for my once overlooked jokes and brushed off comments made my cheeks warm. Like more than me in this moment, he wanted the normal us back.

“Are you going to…” He voice trailed off, my feet picked up against the cold wood floor.

“Why don’t you start the fire? I’m going to get some blankets.” I tucked the hair behind my ear, practically running to the staircase. He nodded, not that I could see it, but the silence confirmed that he had forgotten that I couldn’t truly see his nod. That along with a soft hum of approval from him.

“Oh, and Conrad.” He hummed again. His eyes glistened in the moonlight, shining brighter than any other object standing in the hallway. He waited on me patiently, slowly inching closer.

“I told you so.”

The best of blankets and pillows sprawled put along the living room floor helped to further nestle us against the foot of our white couch. The snowfall and the storm felt less like an inconvenience but a gift.

I was reminded of my childhood. Of first snowfalls and broken ice skates. Red noses and icy hair. I remember how even after the facade of perfect holidays and new years kisses faded into nothing more than a dream, how my heart still soared with excitement each coming fall. How I couldn’t wait to see the snowy powder decorating my front lawn. I get reminded of why I drove so long to see Conrad. Of his warm hugs and his soft mittens. Wearing his hats and stumbling around in the backyard. I feel less hurt by the company than I once did a few days ago. I feel blessed that by some miracle, fate had string Conrad and I back together. That his hands would forever paint my hands in a gentle love we only held, and his whispers of senseless jokes he mumbled tiredly were only mine to laugh at.

The fire crackled, roaring feverishly through the night. The snow and wind pounded against the sides of the house, and despite the chills running through my toes and my fingers, I felt warmer inside than before, rekindling our inside jokes and fueling ourselves for even more.

Soon, our soft laughter and ongoing conversations died out. Our eyes glued to the flames, I tried to catch a glimpse into Conrad’s eyes. I wanted to know what the fire would look like reflected into his blue eyes. Instead, I caught his gaze locked onto my face.

I felt embarrassed, in a way. Vulnerable under his gaze. I felt my cheeks heat up and my body tingle. I felt like a school girl again.

“Y/n/n.” He called for me softly. The only way I was sure that he’d even said it was the fact that my eyes were so trained in his pink lips. I nodded slowly.

“Why did you come down here? Why now?” Even though the question was serious, I couldn’t help but to smile at his curiosity in my life.

Taking a deep breath, I watched his flat face turn into a welcoming grin.

“Lately, I’ve just been caught up in the past, I guess. I’m just so used to coming home every winter to Steven and Belly in the living room already fighting. And my dad and mom arguing about what decorations playfully.” Conrad laughed like he could picture it. He’d never really been in my house during the holidays. Sure, the Fisher family would stop by every few months when the distance became too much, but holiday’s were usually spent apart.

“I guess when I came home this year and that wasn’t there, I kind of freaked a little. I mean, Steven just left, Belly was too caught up in her own life to care about what I wanted to do, how much time we had left. My dad was too busy to stop by and…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I almost allowed the words to slip, how the final straw was that even with the mess of my family, at least at one point I had Conrad. I had his gentle hands and his quiet promises to hold onto. When everything went to hell, it was like losing the last bit of peace. “I wanted to be somewhere I wouldn’t feel alone, I guess.” I replaced my words with this. Hoping he’d understand how much he meant to me, how much all of it meant to me.

The single puff of air coming harshly through his mouth in a sigh reminded me just how close we were. How I could feel each word falling from his lips fanning over my shoulder. We were sharing a blanket, so close yet our bodies so far.

“Y/n.” He sounded more serious. During my confession, I found a home in the floorboards. Feeling safer confessing to the air than to a man who destroyed me not so long ago. My eyes hesitated to meet his, but I could see just how serious he was.

“I regret what happened between us more than anything I’ve ever done in my life. I know I can’t reverse that, but please never say you are alone. I swear to you, no matter what, I’m there.” It was rare to hear such thing from Conrad. Maybe a grunt of a hug to assure my feelings were always appreciated. But I could see the sincerity in his face, his voice was dripping with guilt. He meant it, every word.

Nodding my head, I silently thanked him. I watched his eyes search my face. How his lips parted but shut quickly. He decided against continuing, but it was like an unspoken apology was being said between us in that moment.

With gravity pulling us together, it was only in my nature to protect my heart. I had to rip us apart before I gave in without knowing if we’d ever be the same. If I kissed him and it was just a winter fling, I couldn’t take another heartbreak.

So, in our silence, I moved my hand between us. The pad of my thumb brushing away the charcoal from the fire dusting just under his cheek. I watched how he shivered and backed away, eyes fluttering shut. All while I bit at my lip, delicate in the way I rubbed away the dust.

“Are my hands cold?” I remained focused in on him, my lips curled into a smile seeing his reaction to my touch, how he shivered but didn’t complain. He nodded his head slowly, but his eyes were still closed.

I saw how his eyebrows furrowed, it wasn’t from discomfort, but in the low light it was hard to tell. My hand curled away, ready to ease the coldness off of his skin. I didn’t expect his own hand to cover mine, holding it against his now rosy cheeks.

“Feels nice.” He mumbled almost drowsily. His eyes still hidden behind his eyelids, his other hand found mine aimlessly, gently pressing it to his other cheek. I felt his weight sink into my palms, reveling in my touch.

The band suddenly snapped. All the tension, all the build up. He was right there, so eager, so gentle. I had to know if he was still the same boy I loved not too long ago. He had set me up for an old joke.I always wondered if I could still joke with him like this. It still gnawed at me some nights.

“It’s because you’re cold hearted.” I expected him to laugh, I hoped he would. But instead, he smiled just as genuine as his old laughter, melting into my touch more than I thought he could ever. I hadn’t been able to predict what he would tell me. Couldn’t have read his lips even if I could see into the future.

“For everyone else, maybe. But not for you.” He was as honest as a man could be. With his eyelashes fluttering open, I could see it in his eyes now. How they looked back at me wide and awake. I felt my stomach flip. There was something there I had previously missed. Dancing along with the glowing of the fire in his irises, was the same spark he once carried when I was his and he was mine.

I didn’t even get to challenge it, teasing him and making him repeat his confessions. My lips stuttered on the first syllable, just before his hands smushed my cheeks with the force of how he grabbed me. He was firm, but not aggressive. He could never hurt me.

His lips molded against mine perfectly in my mind. He tasted like mint and hot chocolate. My hands tangled in his hair, his palms flat against my waist. With so little space between us, so much fever and pent up frustration, air became harder and harder to get. With each touch of his fingers, it was like tiny fires being sparked across my body.

He hadn’t even had to tell me what he felt then. Neither did I. In that moment my walls crumbled beneath my feet. All resistance was gone. In Conrad’s grasp, I felt less alone.

I knew it then. To Conrad, my mind games I played on myself, my temper and the storms that would inevitably cloud up my sunniest days, the fact that I could never give him peace did not matter. We would always be enough.

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 41

🌻~THE NEXT SUMMER ~🌻

Eventually, all of the sunflowers had perished by the end of fall last year. I told Haley that just means we can look forward to replanting them this summer. She really took me up on that because just two weeks ago we had planted them all once again.

The sunflowers aren't quite as tall yet this season, but by fall they will be towering over our heads. They are currently still tall enough to make the little bench area secluded from the rest of the world, just the way Haley likes it.

This morning though, is anything but sunny. It's raining total buckets outside today which limits the things I can do today. But then I got an idea.

Running to the telephone in my room, I dial Haley's number.

"Darling! Hi!" her voice sings through the phone.

"Meet me in the sunflower field in an hour," is all I tell her.

"In this weather? Are you insane?" She questions me.

"Trust me," I breathe out, heart pounding in my chest.

"Hm. Okay then," she huffs.

"Make sure to wear something you consider nice. You'll thank me later." Without another word from her, I hung up the phone.

I quickly throw on my signature overalls, work boots and cowboy hat. I have on a light pink t-shirt underneath my overalls as an attempt to look nice. I tie my hair back to my favorite half up half down style. My hair has been making its way back to its original length now. At this point it just passed my shoulders in length.

Without an umbrella or any rain protection, I set out into the nasty weather without a second thought. I know what I am going to do.

Haley and I have been going strong since we established our feelings for one another. All of our previous fighting and sass was all due to us being head over heels with one another at first sight. Who would've guessed? The perfect, pretty, pristine, boy obsessed girl was really into the dingy, dirty, farm girl the whole time. The way the world works goes completely over my head. If you were to tell me I'd be in this position 2 years ago, I would've never believed you. I'm sure Haley would feel the same way. I am so obsessed with her and don't think I'll ever be able to live my life normally if she wasn't with me. Which is why I am going to do this.

"Ahhh Danny. I knew you'd be coming soon enough. I could feel it in the damp, musty, rainy air." The way this guy spoke was absolutely creeping me out. I had chills going down my body, causing my arms to have goosebumps.

"Five thousand coins please," he says before I can even say anything. Cringing over how expensive that is, I reach into my backpack and rifle around until I pull out five thousand coins.

"Wonderful. Here you go..." He holds his hand out to me, dropping something into the palm of my hand.

"Thank you...Old Mariner?" I say questioningly. Unsure if he likes to be addressed as that.

I take a minute to admire the misty ocean water ahead of us. The rain blocks any view of the far away horizon. The rough waters sway and crash about, threatening anyone who dares to enter them in these conditions. It is almost an eerie sight to see when looking out into the rainy abyss of the ocean. I see why this creepy Old Mariner likes to show up when it rains. Really adds to this guy's dumb performance.

I turn to face the Old Mariner one more time before heading out. Except he wasn't there. Confused, I whip my head in every direction looking for him. How did he get so far from the short amount of time I didn't face him? And where does he even go?

Still chilled to the bone over this unnerving experience, I turn on my heels and scurry away from the beach. After all, I have a pretty lady waiting for me back at the farm.

Before entering the sunflower field to wait for Haley, I had tossed my backpack inside so as to not kill the mood with it on. It's not really the most romantic article of clothing in the world, and I'm already pushing it with what I have on now. I also cleaned myself up quickly so I wasn't all muddy and damp. I will end up getting damp from the rain all over again once I go back out to meet Haley, but it won't be as bad. Knowing her, she will show up with an umbrella so she doesn't get her outfit all wet and gross. I don't know what she will do about her shoes though.

I push my way through the thick stems of the sunflower field so that I'm ready when Haley arrives. If she is right on time, I won't have to wait much longer. I tried to time it so that I'm not waiting outside for too long.

To my amusement, I begin to see a cute, little, blue umbrella bobbing its way over the top of all the sunflowers. Haley held it higher up so that it wouldn't get caught in all the leaves and stems of the sunflowers most likely.

"I'm here!" she joyfully bounces into the clearing of the field where I wait. My arms are twisted behind my back nervously, carefully hiding my hands as well.

"Hi here. I thought you were Haley?" I tease, causing her to nudge my shoulder playfully.

"Why did you ask me to come here? It better be worth it. I'm ruining my good shoes for this," she rolls her eyes but cracks a big smile knowing that whatever I asked her here for will be worth it.

"I think you look gorgeous," I mentioned. She really does look so pretty. She is wearing a baby blue sundress with a small pink bow in the middle of the chest area. She has pink pumps on that match the small bow as well. It looks like she was extra careful with those shoes on the way here because they are barely dirty. Her golden hair is, as always, draped over her shoulders, cascading in a way that doesn't cover her beautiful face.

"Emily helped me do my nails this morning for some reason. I didn't think they were that wrecked yet, but she insisted on redoing them when I mentioned where I was going today."

Hearing Haley say that causes me to sweat and grit my teeth. Does Haley know? How did Emily know? I didn't tell anyone, I just came up with the idea today! I mean I was thinking about it since the new year, but I had never told anyone.

"Emily did a wonderful job," I had taken her hand in mine, looking over her blue ombre nails.

"Now are you going to tell me why you asked me here!" she gleefully exclaims, clearly on her toes about whatever may happen.

"Ahem..." I clear my throat, suddenly feeling much more nervous and choked up. It's really happening. "Haley... I had woken up today on this gloomy, gloomy day with a thought in my head I just couldn't shake. On gloomy days like this, I heard there is a visitor that appears on the island that you may have heard of. Now when I saw the rain, something clicked in my head, so I went to pay that guy a visit. Haley, I don't want to spend any more gloomy, rainy days waking up alone. I don't want to spend ANY day waking up alone anymore. I want you by my side every second of every day. You are my reason for getting up in the morning and making this farm the way it is. You give me the motivation to keep this farm up and running and you give me a reason to stay here instead of going back to the city. If I hadn't met you, I would've chickened out and ran back to the city to live a life I definitely didn't want. The forces of the universe clearly wanted me to come here for a reason, and that reason was you. I love you Haley."

As I blurted out my on-the-spot speech, Haley's eyes had widened to the size of saucers once she realized what was happening. Her hand slowly makes its way up to cover her mouth in shock.

"Um..." I awkwardly try to bend down on one knee, but realize that may not be part of the tradition so I stand back up. Then I realize that is whatever I want for this moment, so then I lower myself back down to one knee. Haley begins to giggle over my uncertainty. I take my hands out from behind my back and present them in front of Haley, holding the Mermaid's Pendant. One hand holds the chain, while the other one has the pendant part displayed on the palm.

"My pretty lady. My beautiful, beautiful Haley... will you marry me?" My words ring out into the air for a moment. Neither of us grasping that this is really happening.

Haley nearly drops her umbrella as she starts jumping with joy. She squeals excitedly a few times before collapsing into me, bawling her eyes out. I catch her just before her knees touch the ground so she doesn't fall straight into the muddy grass. The rest of her body falls more into my chest.

"Yes! A thousand times yes! I love you too, Danny," she sobs, muffled by my chest. I move her hair back while she sobs away into me so I can clip the Mermaid Pendant around her neck. I gently lay my arms around her shoulders after to reciprocate her hug.

The sunflowers around us dance in the warm, summer breeze. It makes them look like they are cheering for us. I pull Haley tighter to me and give her a tight squeeze. I'm having a full celebration with plenty of cheering in my head.

"We have to go tell everyone! We have to tell Emily so she can start making our wedding outfits! Hopefully she can do it all in three days but-" Haley starts.

"THREE DAYS? THE WEDDING IS IN THREE DAYS?" I shout, startled about the wedding date being so soon.

"We get married quickly here in Pelican Town," she sheepishly smiles, a blush spreading across her face. "Is it too soon? Do you want to wait?"

"I'd marry you right now if I could. Three days is perfectly okay with me," I reassure her.

🌻 🌻 🌻

Those three days couldn't have gone by any slower. The two of us were raring to get married the second we got engaged. We could hardly keep our hands off each other either. We had started construction on my farmhouse to give her an area of her own for when she moves in, but in the process of building and decorating we had a few... celebration breaks. Like I said, we couldn't keep our hands off each other.

When the whole town found out we were engaged, they all started planning the wedding, Pelican Town style. Apparently it gets set up in the middle of town square like a lot of the other events they put on. They keep all of the outdated ceremony decorations stored away for every single wedding that is held here. It's hard to believe that Haley is okay with a wedding like this. She did add her own touches to it all though, but everything else she was happy with.

When we told Emily, she immediately started planning our outfits right away. She dragged us into her sewing room and started measurements. The two of them couldn't stop laughing at how much I didn't belong there with all the frilly clothes surrounding me. Emily was even going to put me in a dress for the wedding until I gave her a very very long, hard stare. When has she seen me in a dress? What made her think I'd want a dress? My dress denial made them laugh even harder. Emily, of course, respected my wishes and started designing me a suit instead. At least that's what I THOUGHT it was going to be.

When I showed up to get dressed for the wedding today, she pulled out the most outrageous outfit I've ever seen. Not in a bad way though, but in a way that I had never seen anything like it.

"White overalls? Are you kidding me?" I excitedly started laughing over how funny Emily is, taking them by the hanger from her hands.

"Haley knew you'd like it. She suggested it," Emily chuckles.

"Really? Haley suggested this? That girl surprises me more and more each day. Where is she anyway?"

"She went over to Evelyn's house to get ready. I'm going over as soon as you are done getting ready here. I figured you wouldn't take too long and she takes forever so it works out great." Emily pulls out a fancy white shirt to go under my white overalls. She also goes over to a shelf and grabs a pink flower.

"Since you aren't in a suit, you can put this flower in the front pocket of the overalls." Emily hands over the rest of my outfit and starts walking away to let me get ready.

"Thank you so much Emily. This is all so great. You've been a great friend and the best sister to Haley. We wouldn't be here without you," I call over to her before she walks out of the sewing room to her own room.

"Thank you, Danny. You make her so happy. You bring out a side of Haley we had never seen until you showed up. I can't thank you enough for being patient with her and letting her find her true self. I knew it was in there somewhere!" she laughs as she walks away.

Once I was all dressed in my wedding attire, Emily came right back to help straighten everything up and made sure it fits okay. She helped do my hair up nicely in the same way I always have it, but this time it looks better than when I do it. She smoothed back my hair to tie the top part into a ponytail, and brushed the hairs underneath so that they lay nicely down my back. She didn't let me wear my hat unfortunately as it would "ruin it". She said I could have it back after the ceremony. Haley had told Emily that she wants to be able to see my face in pictures. I guess I got away with wearing overalls to my wedding so I should be thankful for that.

I mosey my way out to the wedding area after getting dressed. That's where I see everyone else continuing to set up the last minute things for the big day. The one thing that catches my eye is that there are no chairs.

"Y'all don't sit or anything?" I asked the person closest to me which was Alex. He was in the midst of carrying a big flower pot.

"It's crazy isn't it? I always wondered that too," he replies. I watch as he looks me up and down quickly. "You look hot. Haley is gonna drool when she sees you."

"Why thank you. Sorry again for stealing your girl," I jokingly say.

"Oh please. You are everything I could never be. For one, a girl and two, into girls. I can't believe I never came out sooner. It would've saved Haley the headache I gave her. I feel terrible about everything I put her through and I hope she can forgive me one day. You really saved her from me. I'm glad you moved here and she took a liking to you. Anyways, congratulations on your big day. You two deserve it." He gives me a genuine smile and continues walking to wherever the big flower pot goes.

I wanted to help with all the rest of the setting up, but everyone kept saying no. All I could do was stand helplessly, watching everyone carrying decorations around. Leah and Elliot came over to chat with me and keep me busy too.

"See Leah. What did I tell you? They were meant to get married!" Elliot goofs.

"And I was the one who told them to go at their own pace. You wanted them to get married on the spot you wacko!" Leah responds to Elliot.

"Regardless, they made it this far and I see a bright future between the two of them. Lots of sex and lots of happiness. Cheers to that." That gets him a smack on the arm from Leah. I could see the laugh playing on her lips that she is trying so hard to hold in.

"I couldn't have asked for better friends when moving here. You guys have been such a help to me and made me feel comfortable moving in here. You accepted me as part of the town and I will forever be grateful," I sappily pour my heart out to them.

"We actually never accepted you, you just made that up in your head. I don't know where you got that from," Leah smirks and looks at Elliot. "Isn't that right Elliot?"

"Pfff yeah. We never liked you one bit. You are such a burden to us and should've never moved here. My Yoba, Danny." Elliot holds his palm out to me and turns his head away in disgust.

"Get in here you two," I take both of them into my arms and give them a big squeeze. They both return the hug by squeezing me back.

"It's been so great getting to know you Danny. Thank you for being our friend and putting up with us," Elliot says.

"You've been a lot of fun to tease and have fun with. You sure have a lot of patience," Leah adds. "I'm glad we met you."

"Looks like it's time!" Elliot excitedly informs me. He points at Mayor Lewis who is trying to wave me over to stand under the flower arch. Everyone else is standing in the audience, waiting for the big event to begin. I see Evelyn and Emily have weaved their way into the crowd which means Haley is fully ready and waiting.

Taking a deep breath, I take my place underneath the gorgeous archway decorated with pale pink flowers. I watch as every head in the crowd turns to look down the aisle. Jas and Vincent make their way towards me up the aisle, tossing flower petals as they go. I can't help but smile at how cute they are.

A moment later, everyone gasps. Haley appears at the end of the aisle staring back at me. She looks absolutely stunning. Her dress looks as if it came out of a fairytale. It has a big poofy skirt trimmed with the same light pink flowers as the one in my front pocket. The bodice hugs her body tightly, but loose enough to let her breathe comfortably. The straps of the dress are an off the shoulder design made out of tulle. Her hair was left down, but some front pieces were all tucked and braided to the back of her head with a few strands left out to frame her face. In her hands was the same style of bouquet I gave her when I wanted to show her I was romantically interested. Down to the same color ribbon I had tied around the stems.

My brain had gone completely blank. I was absolutely speechless and bursting with excitement. She slowly glides down the aisle, stirring up some flower petals from the ground as she moves. She looks absolutely magical.

She takes her stand next to me under the arch. The two of us looking into each other's eyes, forgetting everyone else exists. In the background, I hear Mayor Lewis begin speaking.

"When Danny first arrived in Pelican Town, no one knew if she'd fit in with our community... But from this day forward, Danny is going to be as much a part of this town as any of us!" The town folk start cheering at Lewis's declaration. Haley and I break our gaze as soon as we hear the last of his speech. "You may kiss!"

Without another thought, I sweep Haley into my arms like the world is ending and she is my only source of life. Her soft, glossed lips connect with mine instantly. The audience continues to cheer over our passionate, loving kiss. I would've kissed her longer if we weren't right in front of everyone, but eventually we broke apart. I take her hand in mine as we face the crowd. The wind picks up for a minute and it causes all of the flower petals to take to the air. I twirl Haley around to face me again and bring her back for another heart melting kiss.

"I get to be a farmer now, too!" she squeals, squeezing my hands in hers.

"And you are going to be the best wife anyone could ever ask for," I whisper as I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, daydreaming over the beautiful future we are going to have.

[avelera]

Ugh, popped on Twitter to geek out about the Wheel of Time S2 and immediately find a bunch of WoT dudebro fans complaining that a 15 book series of 800+ pages each isn’t getting the exact word for word adaption that exists inside their heads when they read the books. And let me remind you all, these books were my life, my first fandom, and basically my personality pretty much from when I first read them in 1999 until Robert Jordan died (alas, I read to the end but Brandon Sanderson never quite captured the magic of RJ’s writing for me again, even if I think he did the best job anyone possibly could.)

So let me just say from a place of deep respect and obsession with these books that any hate for the show based on it not being a page for page adaptation is patently insane. Much of Wheel of Time relies on the strengths of prose which are untranslatable to a visual medium. Stuff like how magic (or the One Power) feels to cast makes up a huge proportion of the book. You can externally portray a feeling, sure, but there are still limits.

They forget that Book 1 was written to be standalone and has a ton of inconsistencies with later books that need to be shored up. That means logistical changes which cause necessary alterations almost all of which have actually been massive improvements in my mind. For all my love of Wheel of Time, its pacing is atrocious and I think even RJ would agree that if he could go back with the whole story in mind and edit it to be more streamlined, he absolutely would have. The show HAS to do that or we’d still be in the goddamn Two Rivers with the book pacing.

Centering the first season on the White Tower and Moiraine’s POV makes sense. The book relied on Moiraine being a Gandalf figure that gave information away at the pace of reader reveals, in tiny drips meant to tantalize a slow-paced book’s reader. That would be immensely frustrating for a tv show viewer of a story set in a sprawling fantasy world that needs tons of explanation and world building up front to have any idea what’s going on. Focusing on Moiraine, who has the answers, instead of sticking to the ignorance of the kids isn’t just a good choice it’s very nearly the only choice you can make. The White Tower is one of the most complex and interesting parts of that world. Centering it and introducing it earlier was an incredibly wise choice.

Other smaller choices make sense too if people thought about it for two seconds. Aging up the kids makes sense. They’re teens in the books and it would be incredibly awkward on screen. But once you age them up, it makes sense that at least ONE of them has been married before. Perrin makes SENSE to have been married if he left Two Rivers later. He’s a responsible guy with a good trade and a level head on his shoulders. He’s sweet and caring and mature. Of course he got married, he’s from a small farming community in a medieval-esque world with shorter life expectancies. Furthermore, I love Perrin to death but his obsessive fear of hurting Faile later is frankly ungrounded in anything that isn’t benign misogyny on some level. It doesn’t update and translate well on its own. Giving him Laila, giving him the manner of Laila’s death grounds his later attitudes towards Faile so well I literally gasped when I put it all together.

Other changes like in S2 having Min and Mat meet the way they do in Tar Valon was genius. It matters more that Mat and Min have rapport than that they meet in the same circumstances as the book (and Mat wouldn’t even remember that meeting anyway lol). The rapport set up and the way it showed Mat’s genius and con artistry was brilliant. Showing these characters LIKE each other was incredibly engaging and endearing which is so important because the adaptation has to be enjoyable to non book readers too, especially since the 15, 800+ page books of meandering pacing are pretty much impenetrable to new readers. Book readers simply can’t make up the majority of the audience, there’s not enough of them to sustain a show with any kind of budget which WOT requires. Thus, it needs to be an enjoyable show in its own right, not just a meandering exact adaptation ffs.

I can literally point to any show change and say it was either logical, practical, thematic, or simply genius. Wheel of Time desperately needs an edit to be accessible to modern audiences. What an adaptation prioritizes is always a risk that’s going to be run for a fan of the original material but so far I’ve been wildly impressed by every choice made in how logical or thoughtful and most of all loving it was to the actual important emotions and themes of the book. Any complainers are seriously missing the point of what an adaptation even is.

[katzkinder]

Today, the official servamp account made a tweet in celebration of Otogiri’s birthday on the 28th of September! Her favorite food is soba and she does karate for a hobby!

Under the cut I have some headcanons of my own for her, so please enjoy!

This one is my favorite and it’s that whenever Sakuya needs to have a teacher meet with his guardian she goes along with Tsubaki and they act super annoying to embarrass him lol. Like she dotes on him and calls him goofy pet names and pinches his cheek. On the occasions where he’s in trouble for something Team M view as justified, though, she puts on a face of “our perfect little angle? No, never, you must be mistaken”

This is still somewhat humiliating to Sakuya. She loves teasing him in her own way. Makes her miss Johannes.

Speaking of Johannes as kids he used to cut the hair off her dolls or tear their heads off. It’s fine she’d tie him to a tree with her jump rope and leave him there.

Karate was actually a hobby she picked up as a child for self defense purposes. She continues with it because it’s good to help her destress, especially when doing her forms. Something about the rhythm of them helps her clear her mind

She writes fan fiction and will die if anyone finds her ao3 account

I headcanon her, personally, as wlw (not sure what flavor though. Just in general) A major part of this is because she’s the only female member of the cast you can gift chocolate to during the valentine’s event at TanakaBox! I’ll put a link to the event translation in a reblog later

Because she’s so busty, she has a fair bit of problems buying bras she likes that don’t cost an arm and a leg. Living with Tsubaki and working for him means money is no object, of course, but it’s the principle of it. Belkia surprises her once with a custom replica of Madonna’s cone bra corset in bedazzled hot pink. She needed to take several moments.

She did in fact try the whole thing on for him. She felt ridiculous. She also loved how silly the whole affair was. Far too often people get weird about the size of her chest and it makes her so uncomfortable, but with team M… It’s just another body part. She can relax around them

Speaking of people being weird about her body, this is a headcanon Yarra told me that I loved so much I adopted it immediately. She used to go out late at night into seedier parts of Tokyo trying to find men who would start trying to feel her up or force the issue after she rejected their advances, so that she could kill them without feeling guilty, using them as proxies for the doctor who assaulted her. This was not actually a healthy way to cope.

She wants to do a soba tour. Just go around the country trying all different types of soba. One day she wishes to be able to boast she’s had every soba from every restaurant in japan. For now she’s working her way through Tokyo. She’s a subclass so she has all the time in the world to do it.

The entire hotel is (was) outfitted with her strings. They kind of acted as an early warning system. It’s a strange kind of magic that doesn’t seem to have much limits in the way of distance so long as the space she’s in is enclosed.

During holiday seasons, especially Halloween, Christmas, or New Years, these become places for decorations to be hung.

She truly cherishes everything Tsubaki has done for her. The one regret she has about being a subclass is that she had to kill herself for the chance to meet so many wonderful people. She thinks if she’d had anything remotely close to this while human, she would have found the strength to keep living.

They’re her family. Someday, she hopes Hansel can also be part of it again.

[mischiefbuckley]

I want to see Eddie’s sisters on the show. I need to see this man who we have seen time and time again be an adoring and loving father to his son show us how protective and caring he is towards his sisters and especially with the dynamic of how they grew up with the parents they had as well like it would be very interesting to see say if there was an Eddie Begins Again/Eddie centric episode in season 8 to see how that plays into Eddie’s childhood and again the whole Mexican Catholic religious background he had growing up and how that’s affected his life time and time again from feeling forced into a marriage because he found out his girlfriend is pregnant and that was the right thing to do, but later signing up for the military because again he is the man of the house and is suppose to provide for his family, so he’s mirroring what he has seen growing up with his father never being present and always working.

When he does come back after the end of his first tour he’s met with medical debt in the form of his son Christopher being diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy, so again what does he do he signs up for another tour, so he is able to take care of the bills and make sure Shannon stays at home and takes care of Christopher because that’s the role his mom had when he was growing up, again mirroring his childhood experiences being that both him and Shannon were young parents and Eddie didn’t know any better. When he does come back after he’s awarded the silver star, he has trouble assimilating back to what his life is suppose to be. He’s suppose to be the supporting husband to his wife and kid and on top of still having his parents never thinking he is doing enough as the man of his own family now. When Shannon leaves him to go take care of her mom, his family immediately blames her for everything and tries to take advantage of the situation of Eddie being busy and trying to provide for his son by working 3 different jobs while also keep in mind already thinking of the future and he had been looking at other cities to move to because again he didn’t want his son being raised in the type of environment he was raised in. He got offers from Chicago and LA, but ultimately he ended up choosing LA and started his probationary year at the LAFD at station 118. And throughout his journey on the show we have seen him time and time again not only adjust to his new life now that’s he’s living in Los Angeles, but he has a positive support system around him including a new best friend who he can rely on and they have each others backs no matter what.

And when we get to season 5 where he’s going to therapy and talking about his past trauma and ptsd from being in the military and we see him be vulnerable and we see him as he has his mental breakdown after he finds out that the people he saved back in Afghanistan have all died, he’s at a lost for words and doesn’t know how to handle that pain so he completely loses it and the one person that comes to his rescue and supports him through everything is Buck. So it will be very interesting to see now with how season 8 pans out how they will tackle the whole catholic storyline if Eddie is going back to church now that he’s all alone and can’t really rely on his primary role of being a father because he’s son is away and for the first time in his life he is completely alone with all his emotions. It will again be very interesting to see what different storylines they have planned out for him, but even with the interview today that was released where Tim mentions that he’s even isolated in a sense from Buck with him being in a relationship and his time outside of work being limited on when they can hangout and it sounded like Eddie would be third wheeling so it will be something to watch with everything else he has going on if they are going down with the catholic guilt storyline with him coming to terms with his sexuality

[follows-the-bees]

Camera angles and framing foreshadow the end of Sacrifice

Having just watched Sacrifice again (my favorite of the finales) I need to break down how the camera is used as foreshadowing of what's gonna happen as well as shows the inner emotions of the characters — particularly their humanity.

Crowley

At first, the shots with Crowley and the brothers are equal, the camera is level with them as they talk about the contract in the scrap yard. But as soon as the brothers get the upper hand, the angle changes, showing Dean has the power with a tilt up. Crowley is shot from above, over Dean's shoulder.

The camera is used differently on Crowley as he becomes more human during the last trial. We first see establishing shots — Crowley, a demon, is in a church! But as Crowley becomes more human, the camera gets closer to him, a demon in a church no longer the focus. Rather, it zones in on Crowley's face, his — human — emotions. During the scene where Crowley talks about his feelings, the frame holds onto all of those emotions on his face.

Sam

Just like how the camera changes with Crowley during the trial, the same happens with Sam. The camera starts out in medium shots, even and Sam is standing next to Dean.

But as the trial continues and Sam gets closer to death, the camera moves in and upward. We see more of the roof of the church, towards the heavens, cause in Sam's mind, he is purifying himself, he can be accepted into heaven instead of the hell he spent years in.

The closer and the more the camera tilts up during the trial, the more we see into Sam's headspace, until ultimately Sam tells Dean exactly why he wants to complete the trial — this deep down mindset that he was never pure, never worthy.

Cas

Throughout the episode, the camera often tips down on Castiel and the other angels, foreshadowing their fall from heaven.

I'm at the gif limit but when Cas is shown in the "surgery" table, the camera shoots down, making Cas looks small, while Metatron is shot from Cas' angle, showing the power dynamic and betrayal.

The theme of being human runs throughout this episode. Crowley and Cas, the two main celestial beings closest to the Winchesters, are human by the end of the episode, their power stripped from them involuntarily. Another angel who tries to help them, is killed and the main antagonist gets revenge by taking away EVERYONE'S angelic powers. The theme of humanity, whether chosen or forced, is loud.

Dean and Cas

Dean's story this episode very much revolves around the people around him. He hears Sam's side of things, his mindset, in the intimacy of the church. And he gets to tell him his truth "there is nothing past or present in this world that I would put in front of you."

But he also gets to have a heart-to-heart with Cas. The intimate way the bar scene is shot between the two of them is also unique.

They are shot so they are closer to each other in the frame, on the 2/3rds line. This makes it so they are the only two people in existence even in the busy bar. They are best friends and we see their profound bond here at what they think might be their last chance to see each other.

End Shot

In one of the most beautiful shots of the whole show, we see everyone reacting to the angels falling.

The brothers — Dean carrying Sam on his shoulder, just like he's done his entire life, coming out of a church! — Is shot from overhead. Showing how small the humans are in this game of supernatural forces, once again at the mercy of others.

Cas, stripped of his powers, is helpless as he watches his breathern fall. He too is like the brothers.

Overall Aesthetic

This episode in particular gives a nod to the early seasons of the show. Part of that is the intimate camera angles and frames, the lighting due to most of it being shot overnight — which gives it depth and shadows that later season can leave behind — and themes of what it means to be human.

It truly is one of the best (both in filmmaking and storytelling) finales of the whole show.

[botmilf]

Botmom: Optimus Affiliation Debrief

Wyatt (Botmom) considers him her closest friend and confidant. He was probably the quickest to earn her trust simply by how he carries himself, and the gentleness in his tone. Optimus is usually the one to pick her up from work late at night (she’s a bartender at a local strip club) and during their drive back to base, she lets him talk about whatever’s on his mind. She’s made sure to create an environment for the bots where nothing is off-limits for discussion. If they have questions about things, she wants them to ask.

Optimus and Wyatt’s talks during their long drives aren’t always Q&As about Earth culture, though. He sometimes talks about the things that happened on their journey to Earth. Some would say that Optimus never directly talks about his inner conflicts most of the time. But if you pay close attention to his debriefs, or how he manages to find a way to criticize every decision he’s made, it’s all laid out for you. Wyatt has figured this out over time. She has an entire google folder of blogs and articles she’s favorited by therapists and psychologists, and even dabbled in attending a little bit of grief counseling after her sister died. All of this has helped her navigate these deeper conversations with Optimus in such a way that allows him to know he’s truly being heard and understood.

Given the fact that the bedroom at the missile silo is shared by everyone on Team Prime, they mass displace to conserve energon while recharging and so that Botmom/Wyatt doesn’t have to spend a mint on mattrasses to cover the floor with—even though, admittedly, she already has lol.

At night when Optimus is comfortably mass displaced, Botmom will invite him to rest his helm on her chest if he can’t sleep. She strokes his finials, his crest, anywhere she knows is receptive to gentle touch. While Optimus doesn’t have any concept of what breasts are, necessarily, he does find them very comfy and warm, and he’ll just, like, press his face into her cleavage. It doesn’t make Botmom uncomfortable in the slightest. She knows it’s completely innocent, especially because the bots have zero sense of what body parts on humans are viewed as sexual.

There are only two times when Wyatt has begged for anything in her life. The first was when her sister was slipping away—she begged the doctors to save her, even though deep down she knew there was nothing else they could do. The second time was during the missile silo attack in Season 3, when Optimus volunteered to stay behind. Wyatt begged him to let it be her instead. Because she knew that without him, Team Prime would inevitably fall apart, and Earth would be doomed anyway. She knew sacrifice would mean nothing then.

Wyatt was ultimately dragged away by Bulkhead and Miko. While they were wandering the States, waiting for Autobot life signals, Wyatt made Bulkhead pull over a few times so that she could go off for a few precious moments to collapse behind a tree and sob/panic. She didn’t want Miko to have to see that.

Later, when Optimus was resurrected by the Forge, Wyatt told him that by sacrificing himself, he practically handed the fate of the Earth to the Decepticons, because again, without him, Team Prime would’ve completely deteriorated and the Decepticons would’ve fucked up a whole lot more than just Jasper. She basically has that pissed off, panicked Sandra Bullock in Birdbox moment with him where she’s like, “If a situation like that arises again, you fucking leave me behind and don’t stop for even a SECOND to look back. You don’t sacrifice yourself for me, don’t come back for me. You save yourself!”

I'm going to do one of these for each of the bots because believe it or not, quite a few of ya'll have asked for this! Stay tuned. Ratchet next.