#we can be vague on what happened for him to do that if you want

[jeonstudios]

fontana di trevi | 02

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 9k

warnings: same as last time basically: blood, needles, suicidal thoughts and intentions

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 2/2

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© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

“Thanks,” you smile politely as you close the car door, hearing the Uber drive off behind you. The walk up to the house is no different than last time, yet it definitely feels different. Both because of what happened almost a week ago, but also since you’re hoping this will be the last time.

What certainly is different is the surprised look on the vampire’s face as he opens the door to see you standing there with your hands in the pockets of your winter coat.

He himself is wearing a black hoodie, and once again, black shorts. His hair looks a little messier than how you’re used to seeing it. Almost like he’s been sleeping. Vampires don’t sleep, though, do they?

“I… didn’t think you’d show,” he admits honestly, nonetheless opening the door wider for you, and as you enter, you can’t help but think that he looks… almost cuddly.

Of course, he still gives off the usual intimidating aura, and he should probably be even scarier to you considering what happened last time you met him, but… you don’t know. Perhaps you’re just so deprived of human touch that a bloodthirsty vampire’s cold embrace seems inviting.

This time, he waits in the hallway while you step out of your shoes and remove your coat. 

“Yeah, I still want this. I just… wasn’t prepared,” you explain rather vaguely, knowing that he understands exactly what you’re getting at anyway. You want to die but on your terms.

“It wasn’t my intention. To do what I did.”

You meet his eyes. It’s not an outright apology, but it feels eerily close to one.

“You were there to… feed, weren’t you?”

He nods. “Didn’t get the chance to on Thursday or Friday.”

It’s your turn to nod in understanding. For a short moment, you stand there, looking at each other. 

Until you break the silence. “So, can we start?”

“Sure,” he agrees, turning around to head toward the kitchen.

Like the first time you showed up to his house when he didn’t think you were going to, he has to bring the supplies from wherever he keeps them. You take your spot at the table, slip off your cardigan, and wait.

The vampire returns with his hands full, placing the stuff down on the table before he pulls out another chair and positions it the same way as always. But his focus lies on your skin.

“These are new bruises?” he asks, carefully grasping your hand and very gently lifting it to better inspect the yellowing marks covering your skin. “You always bruise like this after?”

You follow his gaze. There are currently three bruises on your right arm, none the same as the night he almost killed you. Two are yellow and from when you bumped into a dresser at home a few days ago. The third is purple but smaller and its origin a mystery. If he wanted to see bruises, he should’ve seen the ones on your legs after you fell when he attacked you.

“Not the first time, but yeah. Usually just from the needle site, but lately, it’s all over. I guess I’m a little deficient in something,” you joke quietly, but the vampire doesn't laugh. 

“Why does it interest you so much? Do you have some kind of medical degree?” you ask, thinking back to when he first asked you why you didn’t wonder about his apparent knowledge.

“Not officially, but being dependent on humans like we are to some extent, you tend to pick up on stuff, and having been around as long as I have, it’s even more unavoidable. But I’ve never seen bruising this severe from blood loss.”

Fair enough. Your body should definitely try to keep the little blood remaining inside your veins, where it belongs. 

He starts prepping your arm, but instead of looking away, you close your eyes. Are you imagining things or has he been… softer lately? Making sure you got home safely instead of leaving you to your fate, almost worrying about your bruises, and being gentler in the way he attaches the needle? Then again, he’s only making sure you can give him as much blood as possible, and he also would’ve probably killed you if he’d gotten ahold of you last week.

“I take it you’ve killed before?” 

There’s a few seconds of silence, but then he answers, and there’s nothing hidden in his words or voice that reveals something more.

“I have.”

“How do you…,” you start, unsure of how to phrase your question. “I mean, what do you do… after?”

“Are you asking…?”

“How do you… dispose of them? And… I guess, how will you dispose of… me?”

It’s not really a sensitive question for you, so you’re not sure for whose sake you’re so careful. You doubt the vampire really cares.

You hear him exhale. “I guess it depends on the circumstances. I haven’t planned anything.”

You wince when he sticks you, more painful this time for some reason. The ball is placed in your hand like always, and you start to squeeze it.

Your curiosity isn’t that dire, so you’re not disappointed by his answer. Maybe he’s not even being honest, and it’s for your sake? Which brings you back to why he’s being extra gentle. The only other explanation you can think of is that he feels sorry for you. Maybe he just truly wants to spare you unnecessary pain and worry in the last moments of your pathetic life? Because this is it. With how shitty you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks and especially since last time, you know it won’t be long. Today’s the day.

One bag. He can take one bag and after that he’ll have to end it. That way, you don’t have to bleed out, and he’ll get as much blood as possible. If he takes your advice about how to drain the rest, well, that’s up to him.

You’re startled by the sound of knocking, opening your eyes to see the vampire rise from his chair, seemingly sharing your surprise. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Nodding, you close your eyes again, getting as comfortable as you can in the chair while wondering who’s at the door. A vampire friend? A vampire partner? Surely, he doesn’t hang out with humans on the regular? You always got the impression, both from him and vampires in pop culture, that they don’t really care for humans. In fact, a dirty human only pesters a vampire’s environment unless they’re actively dying.

Your heart hurts. It’s beating heavily inside your chest, a feeling you’ve grown somewhat used to over the weeks, but it feels undeniably worse. Like every beat is a painful and exhausting accomplishment. Your breaths grow heavier too. 

Surely, it’s been more than a minute. Is he on his way back? If he were a human, chatting with another human at the front door, maybe you would’ve heard them, but you can’t discern anything. 

It feels a little like your head’s in the clouds, and you’re not sure if your eyes are still closed or if they’re open and you just can’t see anything. You have a feeling that not only can’t you hear the vampire, you can’t hear anything anymore.

Realizing that this is it, you try to call for him quietly to tell him so, but although you’re pretty certain you’re dying, for some reason, you don’t want to interrupt whatever he’s doing with his visitor.

“Fine, alright, I’ll talk to him, but please, this is not a good time.”

“But he’s being an ass, and you were the last person he spoke to before he left for fucking Iceland.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes at his friend, Yuqi. With how much she and Taehyung love each other, there’s a surprising amount of drama. 

“I don’t wanna get involved. I’ll call him later.”

“Fine, get back to me after. If he doesn’t answer, I’m taking the first flight.”

“Vampire?”

Yuqi, who was just about to turn around to leave, stops in her tracks.

“What… was that?” she asks, standing still before discreetly scenting the air. “Is that… blood?”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. He’s used to smelling blood whenever you’re there to leave it, but not this much. Quickly, and without regard to Yuqi, he turns to rush back into his kitchen, eyes going even wider at the vision in front of him.

“Vampire?” you call out quietly again from the chair, eyes closed and unknowing of his return. You seem out of it, bordering on unconscious, and it’s not without reason. Jeongguk curses himself for not double checking the blood bag when he knows that brand is prone to ripping because the bag isn’t full; it’s broken, and your blood is dripping into a big puddle of red on the floor.

You think… you’re being… carried? By someone firm and… warm. You like that.

“I’m not warm," a low voice comments. "At least I’m not supposed to be.”

“I’m dying… right?” you mumble, feeling how the vampire puts you down on something soft.

“Probably, yeah.”

He does something to your arms, and you can’t figure out what, but you realize it has something to do with collecting the remaining blood when you’re gone.

There’s another voice.

Next time you open your eyes, you feel… different. And upset. You’re not as dizzy as you’ve become accustomed to, and the room doesn’t spin when you sit up on the bed. Your body hurts, but it feels more like you’re simply tired and beat than extremely weak. Most importantly, you feel, which means you’re not dead.

As if he could sense your awakening—or just possesses superhuman hearing—a door opens to reveal the vampire. He's wearing other clothes, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his face doesn't give you anything.

“What happened?” you question, looking around the room that’s clearly a bedroom. “And where am I?”

“You passed out. There was a hole in the bag, so the blood was just leaking onto the floor. I had my friend steal some from the hospital, and I gave you a transfusion. Yuqi also brought some clothes and stuff for you, so you’re staying here at least until tomorrow. Then you’re free to leave whenever you want.”

“I… don’t understand. Why would you—why not just let me go then?”

“I changed my mind.”

You look at him, bewildered and trying to find the words. “What do you mean you changed your mind? We had an agreement?”

“I know, but I changed my mind. I’m not doing it. If the blood matters to you, the bags are in the freezer.”

“Why–what would I do with blood?” you question in frustration. Is he offering it back in case you want to drink it? Try to put it back inside your veins? Apparently, you’ve already had transfusions, so you have exactly zero use for frozen bags of blood. “Why can’t you just get on with it? Why not let me die?”

“I do not. Want. To,” he hisses.

You stare at him in silence, feeling confused and betrayed. He looks away but doesn't seem affected. No shame, no regret, no anything but a moment of frustration to breach otherwise calm determination.

“Here’s the stuff,” he gestures toward a duffel bag by the foot of the bed. “You have a bathroom right outside, and I’m gonna order some food for you. You should take it easy; I wasn’t able to give you as much blood as you really need, and unfortunately, what I’ve previously collected isn’t fit to give back. Since it’s been frozen and stored improperly for that kind of purpose, there would be a risk of clotting.”

You look at him from where you’re sitting on his bed, and he looks back at you. The irritation you feel grows beyond what you’re capable of conveying, and so it turns into defeat. It makes you angry, how he managed to back out of giving you what you wanted at the very last second. You spent months upholding your end of the deal, and when it finally came time for him to do the same, he didn’t. 

“Don’t bother,” you lie down slowly, your back facing him where he stands at the door. Silently, you curse your body for feeling so tired; ideally, you’d stomp out of there, slamming the door behind you. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

Your own clothes are still wearable. The few stains of blood are relatively small and dried, and the vampire already placed you on his bed, so you don’t feel like you’ll do any more damage by sleeping in them. The house is quiet, but you don’t think he’s left it, which begs the question of where he is. And also if he sleeps and if he does, then… where? He never gave you a tour or anything, so you have no idea what the rest of his house looks like. Whatever; you don’t care, anyway.

His sheets smell clean, though, and it doesn’t take you long to pass out, truly exhausted.

When you wake up, you can’t find your phone, and without any other time measuring device, you don’t know what time it is. It appears like the sun rose not too long ago so that narrows your guess a little bit at least.

Sitting up slowly, you take a deep breath. You feel… okay. A bit sore almost, but more energetic than you have in a while. Unfortunately, it’s not necessarily a good thing in your book.

Sighing, you put your feet to the hardwood floor. They carry you with only a little dizziness, and you set your sight on the bedroom door. It opens smoothly, and you peer out, looking for the bathroom the vampire mentioned. There’s a door immediately to your left which you guess must be it, and so you head toward it. 

After successfully finding the bathroom and using it, you decide to continue the search for your phone. Since you thought last night would be your last and therefore arrived by Uber rather than driving, it means that without your phone, you have no way home.

You make your way down some stairs, recognizing the hallway as the one the vampire has led you through what feels like countless times. Last time you remember having your phone was in the kitchen, so that’s where you steer your steps.

As luck would have it, the kitchen is also where the vampire happens to be. Upon your entrance, your eyes immediately fall on the tall man where he stands, leaning back against the counter. Although he surely heard you approaching a long time ago, he only turns his head slowly toward you when you’re well into the room. He’s hard to read; doesn’t offer much.

“Do you know where my phone is?”

The vampire twists his body to look at the counter behind him, sliding something toward you. You take a step closer, inspecting the device when it’s in your hands. Three percent.

“Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod and pushes off the counter, leaving the kitchen. You wait, quietly wondering what exactly goes on inside his head. He seems unfazed by the whole ordeal, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. But what you still don’t quite understand is why he claimed to have changed his mind. Could it be that he just didn’t want to deal with your body? 

The vampire returns with a white charger in his hand, his skin cold against yours when you accept it from him. Finding a fitting outlet near the table, you plug the charger in and sit down, gazing out through the window while you wait for the phone to charge enough for the trip home. The vampire has gone back to leaning wordlessly against the counter, and you ignore him.

Opening your phone, you find that the only unread notification you have is a spam email. Why are you surprised? With a small sigh, you lock the device again, hoping it’ll charge faster if you don’t use it. Forty percent should be enough.

It’s snowing outside, and you watch the big snowflakes fall slowly and silently to the already white ground. Waiting like this gives you time to go over all the things you’ve done wrong in your life.

Next time you unlock your phone, the battery has reached thirty-seven percent. You open the Uber app to see that a car can arrive in ten minutes. You confirm it, noting the time as eleven twenty-three. You’ll wait five more minutes before you start getting ready, which honestly is just putting your shoes and coat on. 

The seconds pass slowly one after the other. You wonder briefly how long it took the vampire to clean because, although you didn’t notice the blood dripping to the floor while it was happening, you understood that there was a lot of it. Must suck for him to have it wasted like that. The question is also why he would waste even more blood by giving you a transfusion? If he went through the pain of acquiring bagged blood, why not just drink that?

At eleven twenty-nine, your phone’s battery is at fifty-two percent. You unplug the charger from the wall, and as you stand, you place it on the table with a quiet ‘thanks.’

“Going home?” the vampire wonders, black eyes watching you. He looks casual, but there’s that hint of softness shining through again. 

You pass him on your way to the front door. “Yeah.”

“Reconsider,” he encourages, and you know he’s not talking about your journey home. 

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Yes,” he follows. “Whatever’s troubling you doesn’t matter. There’s so much for you to see and do, so many places to visit and people to meet. Your life is so incredibly short, and you won’t have time to see even a fraction of the world as is.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” you say, bending down to put your boots on.

“Have you even been outside of this town?”

Why is he trying to control you? He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t care. It’s not like you’ll magically be fine after his ‘cheer up, pal,’ and ending your life is not a decision you have taken hastily or easily.

“No.”

“Don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

“Of course. But it’s not…” you straighten up to look at him, frustration dripping from your words. “Don’t you see that I’m all alone? I don’t have anybody, no one to experience things with, and much less the money to just up and leave. Sure, maybe I could get a loan and travel through Italy for two weeks, but then what? I’ll be miserable and in debt.”

The vampire tilts his head, looking at you with his black eyes but not saying anything. He just doesn't understand. You put your other foot into your boot and reach for your coat before he can try to persuade you again for whatever reason.

“Whatever,” you sigh, “I’ll be going.”

He doesn’t stop you from opening the door, and he doesn’t follow you when you leave, one boot undone and with your coat held to your chest. Irritation turns to sadness and defeat as you wait for the Uber to arrive, taking the opportunity to actually put your coat on and tie your laces properly. Snow falls around you, and when you're done, you stand there, waiting pathetically by the side of the road in the cold. You’re back at square one.

Despite having slept for countless hours at the vampire’s house, you head straight for your bed the moment you return home. For another few hours, you sleep, and then you spend a few more lying there in the dark, thinking. 

It’s seven p.m. on a Saturday. You’ve wasted a lot of time, months even, waiting for the vampire to get what he wanted and follow through on his part. But that’s over now, so what are you waiting for right now? 

Two and a half hours later, you put your boots back on and throw a lighter jacket over your shoulders, one that allows easier access to your neck.

Still not feeling your best, it takes you fifteen minutes to walk what the vampire did in six, carrying you on his back. You don’t understand him. He acted like he didn’t want you to die, but if he cared about you at all, he would’ve backed out earlier and not waited until his actions brought you within an inch of your life for what, the third time? Was he hoping you’d stay alive so that you’d hopefully continue donating your blood, even if less frequently? 

Although nearing his feeding grounds, you’re hoping not to run into him. He did state that he changed his feeding days to Thursdays, and last week, when you did run into him, it seemed like a coincidence. Besides, this place is your best bet tonight; even the vampire admitted that there were others there last time. Surely, they’re around here somewhere tonight as well. 

Since you assume vampires don’t want unnecessary attention, you stake out near the same club as last week, but this time, you hide in the shadows around a corner. Then, you wait for a victim.

Thirty minutes to midnight, a woman stumbles out through the door, a bouncer holding it open for her. She’s obviously had a bit to drink, and as she clumsily fixes her little cross body bag and sets off along the street, you look around from your hiding spot.

But you don’t see or hear anything; not a dark figure moving nor the sound of footsteps. Still, you follow her, hoping for the best. Wanting to keep your distance, you instead find it hard to keep up with her, which is saying something about your current health.

About two hundred meters from the club, she suddenly slows down, her attention seemingly drawn to something in an alleyway. You weren’t sure exactly how the vampires hunt, but by how the woman begins to slowly drift inside the dark alleyway of her own accord, you guess they do have some kind of pull. Most women, even when slightly drunk, typically try not to do… that.

You quicken your steps as much as possible without breaking into a sprint. Not only do you want to speak to a vampire; if you can take that woman’s place and leave her unscathed, it’s an added bonus. Before you’ve caught up, the woman slowly and quietly disappears, and when you turn the corner with your phone in hand and flashlight turned on, you spot a man holding her to his body. 

Evidently hearing you approaching, the man has placed them against the wall, halfway obscured by a dumpster and hoping you’d walk past them, which you would have if you weren’t so focused on the woman and your mission.

The man squints in the light, and you very clearly discern long fangs. You take another step into the alleyway, but what you didn’t expect was to be grabbed from another direction. 

Gasping, you feel strong arms hold your back against someone’s chest, effortlessly keeping you immobile. 

“What can we offer? Though you smell like vampire already?” The man who holds you says, sounding surprised, and your phone is taken from your hand and the flashlight turned off. 

Obviously, they assume you’re one of the freaky ones looking for vampires because any normal person would run. Your reason for wanting to find one is different, though. 

“I have a proposition,” you stutter, not too scared but uncomfortable with how the man noses at your neck. Despite knowing that if the vampire bites, it’ll most likely be your neck, you can’t help trying to pull away. It’s just another bodily reaction. 

Your words intrigue him, and he moves, creating just a tad bit more space between your bodies and looking down at you with a curious smirk.

“A proposition, you say?”

“You can have my blood—all of it—if you take it right here and now.”

“What’s the catch?” he asks, raising an eyebrow much like a certain vampire you know. “What’s in it for you?”

“There is no catch. I want to die.”

The other vampire, curiously listening to your conversation, whispers something in the other woman’s ear, and lets her go. She stumbles away from him and then casually leaves the alleyway, turning the corner calmly as if nothing happened. 

You meet the vampire’s puzzled yet curious eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my blood if you think I’m trying to trick you into something. Except that it’s apparently B positive which I understand is not that desirable, but—”

“You’re Jeon’s human?”

“Uh—what? Who?” you ask, confused but slowly putting two and two together.

“Fuck, should we?” the other vampire questions quietly.

“Jeon,” the closest one to you starts, “is the vampire you smell of. He’s been very persistent no one touches his human.”

“Yeah. Can’t blame him. If I was lucky enough to have someone offer to be a walking blood bag, I wouldn’t let them outside at all.”

“I’m not… I’m not anyone’s, and I’m not a walking blood bag,” you explain, feeling belittled. “He made me a promise that he broke. He was going to help me die in exchange for my blood, but he just used me to collect blood, and then he didn’t deliver.”

The two vampires look at each other, and you feel like they didn’t really pay attention to anything you just said.

“I don’t know, man. I’m not sure I wanna get on his bad side.”

“But he’s too arrogant,” the first one complains. “If I want something, why should he prevent me from getting it? He doesn’t own the supply here. I’m a thousand years old; I shouldn’t need to ask for permission.”

“Dude’s like three thousand years old, though? You don’t need to ask permission; you can literally choose anyone. Except this one, for some reason. I don’t think I would if I were you.”

“Our agreement is over,” you try to enter the conversation the two vampires are holding over your head.

“Well,” the one holding your arms peers down at you, “He said that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to touch you.”

You scoff, growing irritated again, “Okay, well, are there any vampires around that aren’t such wimps? If I can’t find anyone to just snap my neck, I’m going to the train tracks and then my blood will be wasted.”

That’s a lie, of course. There’s a reason you picked death by vampire; you’re too scared to do it any other way, and no matter how much you want to die, you can’t subject anyone else—like a poor train driver—to it. Vampires are cold and heartless. They don’t care.

“Hold on. Wait,” the vampire holds you tighter when you haphazardly try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Look,” he says to the other, “He can’t tell us what to do. Besides, if he gets angry, we can just say that she said their agreement was over, and we did her a favor out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“You don’t have a heart; you just want to annoy him.”

The vampire grins. At first, it’s a boyish smile directed at his friend, but when he slowly tilts his head down to look at you, it turns almost sinister. “I think I’m gonna do it.”

You gulp. No matter how much this is what you want, it does scare you. Mostly because you’re afraid it will be painful.

“Is there a way you can kill me first? I don’t want it to hurt.”

The smiling vampire shakes his head. 

“No.”

You thought death was supposed to be a void. A void of darkness, devoid of physical matter, emotions, and thoughts. But it hurts. It hurts so much. 

Then, a void does take over.

Jeongguk knew you’d try again. If he wouldn’t kill you, you were going to find someone who would. And despite hoping that you would’ve changed your mind, he was unfortunately right. He spent an hour roaming the dark streets around the town’s attempt at a nightlife, but he didn’t come across you. Not until he visits the same place where you first found him, a place he wouldn’t take as your first choice since you ran into him there a week earlier. 

He’s spent hours and hours these last weeks with you on his mind; the little human who wants to die so badly. It’s just something about you and your willingness to die that doesn’t sit right with him, and you won’t leave his thoughts. It’s not his business, he told himself as he saw you curled up and unconscious in your car. Who is he to tell someone what they should do with their life? If anything, respecting your wishes and consuming freely donated blood is easier and more ethical than taking it from plastered people who aren’t really sure what’s going on, right?

The scenes replaying the most in his head are more recent. It’s the way you suggested he kill and butcher your body, saying no one would look for you anyway, and how you called for him, unknowing that your blood was dripping to the floor but still trying your hardest to squeeze that ball for him. Your fingers were barely moving, but you tried since he wanted that blood. 

He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, trying to convince you to live, but he guesses that he simply needs to know that you experienced some good things in life too. He can’t let you end it this way, as a lifeless body, discarded somewhere where no one will find you.

Anger, frustration, and an odd feeling of helplessness flood him as he takes in the sight of the vampire in the process of draining you dry. He rushes into the dark alleyway, the vampire looking up from your neck just as Jeongguk strikes. There’s not much of a fight after that. The first vampire stumbles backward, and Jeongguk grabs your lifeless body from him as the second vampire approaches, eyes wide and with his hands raised shoulder height.

“Easy, man.”

“I fucking told you to leave her alone.”

The dazed vampire grumbles something, but Jeongguk doesn’t pay him any attention. He places your body down on the snow-covered ground and looks at your pale face while searching for a pulse right under your jaw. 

“She wanted to die.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongguk growls. “How much did you take?”

There is no pulse.

“At least three fourths. Possibly more.”

Jeongguk shuts his eyes. There’s no coming back from that.

You’ve lost and regained consciousness due to blood loss one too many times by now, but this time, it really feels different. Opening your eyes, the sunlight filling the room irritates your eyes, forcing you to squint for a few seconds. 

Without moving, you focus on something. The vampire. Jeon, was it? You watch as he rummages through his closet, practically soundlessly, taking out a few items and looking them over before settling on what looks like two black shirts, one long-sleeve and one short-sleeve. Then he digs out a pair of shorts and another pair of sweatpants. 

You’re not used to seeing him in direct sunlight, but now, the rays filtering through the half-opened blinds paint him in a new light, and you let your eyes linger on his arms as he folds the clothes. The green t-shirt he wears is doing a great job at highlighting his veiny, muscular forearms as they work. Light and shadows play along those very defined muscles, accentuating them further.

Your first impression of him was a cold one, one that slowly warmed a little over time both physically and mentally. But in this light? Without even touching him, he looks… warmer to you. Inviting, almost like when he wore that black hoodie. 

You sigh quietly and pull the blanket that’s thrown over you closer. The vampire hears and turns around, placing the clothes at the foot of his large bed.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to consider his question. Though you’ve certainly felt better in a lot of ways, you don’t feel the way you’ve come to associate with severe blood loss. 

“Cold. And tired, but in a weird way.”

Weird is probably the best way to describe how you’re feeling in general. You feel light, but not weak. Tired, but not sleepy. 

He nods understandingly, “It’ll pass.”

You catch his gaze, holding it for a quiet moment. “You changed me, didn’t you?”

It’s the only explanation you can come up with. That vampire was hungry, and you remember slowly losing control in his grasp, both over your body and consciousness. With how many near-death experiences your body has endured in the last weeks—all blood loss related—there just wasn’t any chance you’d survive another draining.

“Yeah.” He looks away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I couldn’t…”

You think you understand well enough what he’s trying to say, although you’re not too sure of his reasons or how to feel about it. He couldn’t let you die. In a way, you’re disappointed because you were finally getting what you wanted, and dying has proved itself to be surprisingly difficult for you. 

But you’re not angry; not like you were after the vampire saved you the first time. He mentioned once that not even vampires are immortal, so at least you know that you’re not doomed to an eternal life in suffering; you can always try again if you want. However, you’d be back at square one when it comes to options, but you don’t really feel the urgency anymore. At least not at the moment.

He turns his head toward you, meeting your eyes with his deep, dark ones. “Let me show the world to you.”

Surprised to say the least, you mumble a quiet “What?”

He angles his body further toward you, and you see that despite the softer look on his face, he’s certain. “I want to show you everything the world has to offer. All the good things; the magical places and people.”

Not sure what to say, you just stare at him.

“Vampires are not immortal,” he continues. “If you really don’t want this, I’ll help you die. I promised. But please, think about it. No catch, no expectations.”

“But why… Why would you want that?” 

You’ve been alone for so long, unable to keep people around and interested, so why would this being be?

“Because I found that I really didn’t enjoy draining you of your life, especially when you were already so low to begin with. I want you to get the chance to experience the good things life has to offer, and I can’t help but want to be around when you do.”

“You don’t know me though.”

“I kinda want to,” he says, standing up with the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Think about it, okay? I’m not expecting anything from you other than that you consider.”

Still very much processing his words, you feel a cold shiver wreck your body, something the vampire notices.

“I’ll get you another blanket. Your body is still in the process of changing, and with that comes a decrease in temperature. It’s normal to feel cold.”

He’s about to leave when you call for him.

“Wait. What… What's your name? Your given name?”

He stops, and he smiles again. “Jeongguk. And I know yours already; it was on your door.”

You sleep for a little while longer, but when you start to feel better, you also start to think. You’ve been so certain for so long, and you still are—you think—but… either way, you’d like some answers; a clearer view of the whole picture.

“Jeongguk?” you call, unsure how loud you need to be. It feels strange to use a name for the vampire.

It doesn’t take long before the door opens. “Yeah?”

“I have some… questions.”

He nods, stepping into the darkness that is his bedroom and closing the door behind him. 

“Light sensitive?” he nods toward the window, where you’ve pulled the curtains closed over the blinds.

“Yeah… Is that normal?”

“It is. So is feeling sensitive to sound, touch, smell; basically all the senses. But it will pass pretty quickly.”

“Okay. Well, can you… tell me everything about being a vampire? I didn’t think you slept, but you do? Or why do I still sleep?”

He rounds the bed to sit next to you, and you feel it sink as he gets comfortable. Slowly, you turn to face him, watching him lean back against the headboard.

“So, basically, we can do all the things humans do. For instance, you’re still programmed to breathe, but it’s more of a habit and a way to smell than a means of survival.”

While he speaks, you try it. It’s strange, holding your breath and not feeling that strong, strong urge to take in air after a while.

“You can eat human food, but it’s not what sustains you, so most vampires don’t. It gets kinda boring after a while; you’ll see what I mean. Most also don’t sleep as they consider it a waste of time, but you can if you want to. I do pretty regularly. I find it… peaceful, and when you get older, it can be nice, getting a break between days.”

Hearing him talk so casually and almost… softly has you smiling slightly, unable to help it. So he had been sleeping when you knocked on the door, and his hair was all messy, and he looked so cuddly? You don’t know why, but you like that thought.

“You can exist in sunlight, you can consume garlic. Mirrors work for us as well. We don’t age like humans, but we can die if we’re pierced through the heart by something wooden—”

“—You mean staked?”

He looks at your wide, amused eyes and rolls his. “Yeah. Staked. Anyway, you’ll notice that your senses are heightened, and you’ll become stronger too. Not stronger than me, though,” he grins. “As for the blood, you can survive on any.”

“Any?”

What does he mean by that? Human and animal?

“Human, animal, vampire,” he says, the last one surprising you.

You blink, taken aback. “Vampires drink from other vampires?”

“We can. It’s not as common as feeding on humans as it’s mostly… a pretty intimate thing to do.”

“Oh, okay.” 

Thinking about it, you guess you can see why. Having someone so close, feeding on you without the power imbalance of prey versus predator that feeding on humans entails, must feel… intimate. More of a give and take. 

“You’ll need to feed in about a day or two, so you can choose. I have more human blood than just yours as it might be weird to drink your own blood, and I can get animal blood if that feels easier. Or… if you want to, you can drink from me.”

You look at him questioningly. “Didn’t you just say that it’s an intimate thing?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but if it would make for an easier transition for you, I don’t mind. I’ve taken a lot of blood from you, after all.”

“Okay,” you nod, briefly biting your lip. “I’ll think about it. About all of… this.”

Is death the thing you wanted above all else, or was it to get out of the life you were living? Now that your old life is, in a way, over, you’re not sure. Regardless, there are other worries still plaguing you. You look—almost stare—at his pretty face. 

“What?”

You bite your lip nervously again. “What if you change your mind? I’m assuming this was quite a rushed decision on your part. What if I don’t live up to your expectations? I barely knew how to navigate this world as a human, there’s no way I could… manage on my own as… as a vampire.”

Say you decide to give it a shot; what do you do if he grows tired of you?

“Changing someone is not something we take lightly. We don’t…” he looks around, seemingly searching for the right words. “We don’t change anyone if we’re not prepared to guide them, at least through the first years. Usually, vampires only end up turning their romantic partners, so for most, it means staying together for life. Regardless, it’s a big decision.”

Noticing your wide eyes, Jeongguk smiles and chuckles. “I’m not saying you have to hang around me for the rest of your life, and I won’t ask you to play my wife or anything, but I won’t abandon you.”

It’s surprising enough to hear that vampires not only regularly fall in love with humans but take changing someone so seriously. But you’re even more surprised to hear him use the word ‘wife.’

“Your wife?” you ask, truly bewildered that word was even in his thoughts. “You said vampirism doesn't make you much prettier?”

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “It doesn’t. But you didn’t need to become prettier anyway.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m telling the truth? Don’t you remember what I told you when I carried you home that night?”

‘You’re a pretty girl, you know?’

Of course you remember, but it doesn’t mean it was true.

You roll your eyes. “You were feeling bad for me.”

“Hm,” Jeongguk looks away, thinking. “Okay, do you remember the very first thing I said to you?”

“That you weren’t going to turn me?”

“For sex, yeah. But I said I’d still fuck you.”

The smile he gives you reminds you more of the vampire that took your blood once every fortnight than the one who saved you. You don’t know what to say, and he seems to realize that, his smile turning softer.

“Like I said, I would’ve fucked you because you were pretty even as a human. Also, about luring said humans in? You will not have a problem with that if that’s something you’re interested in. I kinda want to see you do that, actually,” he grins, sending a shiver down your spine. “Hot.”

Jeongguk is sitting spread out on the rented apartment’s low couch, reading the back of a bottle of red wine when you pass him. It’s hot—a lot warmer than what you’re used to from your little hometown—and you sigh as you open the door to the balconet wider and fresh air starts to play with your dress. The weather doesn’t affect you like it used to, but some aspects are still more enjoyable than others. 

“I think I like Rome,” you place your hands on the railing, looking down at the scene two stories below you. It’s just after ten p.m., and people are dining outside the restaurant below you, their happy chatter accompanied by the romantic sound of street musicians. The air is humid, and besides the moonlight, the street is mainly illuminated by lights from the restaurant and surrounding shops.

You hear Jeongguk put the bottle down on the glass coffee table and stand up, something your human ears wouldn’t have picked up.

“We can stay longer if you want,” he offers quietly from right behind you.

Turning around, you let your gaze travel over his white dress shirt, held together by two single buttons—the rest lazily unbuttoned—and exposing most of his drool-worthy chest. He smirks, looking down at you, and you’re hit by how he hasn’t changed that much since you first met him in that alley. You’ve just gotten to see more sides of him.

You hold your breath, carefully reaching your hand out to pinch the fabric of his shirt between your thumb and index finger, pulling a little on it and nodding.

“Then we’ll stay,” he smiles, slowly stepping back and taking your hand softly in his. His skin feels warm against yours, and it’s almost like some sort of electric current courses through you. You grin as he pulls you toward him, moving to the slow and sensual music drifting up from outside.

Jeongguk lifts your hand above your head and twirls you. It makes you smile even wider, and you decide to place your arms loosely around his neck. He doesn’t object, just looks down at you, still smiling. 

One thing you'll never get used to is how handsome he is. Soft, black hair parted across his forehead, dark eyebrows and eyes, and a dimple that pops out when he smiles. One day, you’ll kiss his nose, you promise yourself. He looks so carefree, peering down at you like nothing else really matters; a mindset not too difficult to follow with him.

“How come everything is so… easy?”

He tilts his head, trying to make sense of your words as he places his hands on your waist. “Well… do you feel cared for?”

You think about it. All the new people—vampires—you’ve met so far are very funny and kind. They see you, and they listen to you. Especially Jeongguk’s friends, and even more so, Jeongguk. He’s easy to be around, and he’s been incredibly sweet to you, understanding that you’re going through a big change and that your previous life wasn’t all that great.

So you nod.

“Do you have anything that worries you?” He continues. “A looming anxiety regarding something?”

“No.” Turns out that Jeongguk and all his friends are filthy rich and also very generous, which means that you have no rent to pay, no stuff to buy, or bills to pay. Nor do you have people to impress or time-sensitive achievements to stress over.

Jeongguk’s smile turns extra cheeky. “Do you perhaps… also care a little bit for someone?”

You’d blush if that was something you could do. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

He chuckles before he turns a little more serious. “Jokes aside, there could be many reasons. Like I said, not feeling lonely or overly anxious surely helps a lot, but also stuff like… the change of scenery and seasons. But also…”

“Also…?”

He looks at you with a searching gaze, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Tell me, did you ever see someone about how you felt?”

You shake your head.

“So you never got a diagnosis or medication?”

“No.”

“Then, maybe… you weren’t ‘only’ sad, and vampirism corrected some chemical imbalance in your brain. It could also explain why things are easier.”

Maybe. You thought that your mother dying was the catalyst for your sadness, and without seeing the point of the world, you got “weirder,” and the few people in your life withdrew. Then it was just you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t connect with people anymore. But maybe, like he said, it wasn’t ‘only’ feelings. A small part of you wishes you would’ve tried to get help, but a bigger part—although sad for the years you spent suffering—thinks this ending might be better.

He continues to sway your bodies, and you rest your head against his chest. When you left with him three months ago, one month after he changed you, you weren’t entirely certain where things would lead, because despite definitely feeling attracted to him, you didn’t really know him. But as the days pass, you don’t regret it, and you’re pretty sure you’re more than halfway to head over heels. You can’t deny that he gives you butterflies.

Sighing, you catch the scent of his naked skin against your cheek, reminded of something.

“You smell good. I remember thinking that you didn’t smell like anything?”

He laughs as you move your face slowly over his chest and up to his neck, smelling him.

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” you say, breathing him in and closing your eyes. There’s the same notes of laundry detergent, soap, and cologne, but also something unique to him. He doesn’t smell like a human, but… almost. It draws you in, that’s for certain.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders quietly. 

“Not sure,” you answer honestly. It’s turned out to be harder to tell than you imagined.

“Well, if you want it… go for it.”

“Like this?” you ask, pushing on his chest with a smile. He lets you walk him slowly back toward the couch, and when the back of his knees hit the edge, he sinks down onto it. 

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

High on the vampire equivalent of adrenaline, you straddle his lap, only to be caught off guard by his scent again. “No, but really, you smell so good.”

He chuckles. “Vampires who are more… compatible tend to smell good to each other.”

His revelation has you sitting back, curious but almost a little worried. Despite the details of your relationship being... a bit unclear—mostly due to his unwillingness to pressure you, you think—you can't help but want him to like you. “Does that mean that I smell good to you as well then? I mean, I remember that you didn’t like my blood?”

“You smell incredible to me. Almost addictive,” he reveals quietly, softly, resting his hands on your thighs, and you think your human heart would’ve raced. “And about your blood… I lied.”

Though grinning happily, there’s at least a trace of regret in his eyes.

“You lied? About not liking my blood?”

“Yeah. B is actually one of the more highly regarded blood types. I’m also B, but negative.”

You shake your head at him before carefully leaning in. With a soft touch of your lips, you locate the pulsating artery in his neck, gently angling his head away with your hands. Then, as you’ve done regularly for the last months, you pierce his skin with your fangs.

“I’m kinda surprised you still believed I didn’t like your blood,” he continues, though it sounds a little strained, like he’s trying to keep still. “If I didn’t like your blood, I wouldn’t have needed to change my feeding days to the day before you came. Nor would I have tried to attack you.”

You listen to his words, but you’ll have to process them better later because his blood is pretty much the only thing on your mind. His blood and his body. It took you a few times to get over the mental association with blood and drinking it, but now, it’s not something bad. It tastes and feels good, energizing you in a way food just doesn’t anymore. And it’s a chance to bond, making you feel closer to him. 

He likes it too, if his body language is anything to go by. You know he tries to stay still to give you the best chance to get what you need without distractions, but the little… almost purring sound that reverberates from somewhere deep in his chest is hard to miss. As is the way his hips shift almost unnoticeably, but you haven’t spoken about that.

Being smaller and recently changed, you don’t require nearly as much blood as he does, and as soon as you feel the urge filled, you run your tongue over the wound to close it, just like he’s taught you to.

“Good?” he asks when you pull back, and you nod, licking your lips. 

You keep your eyes on his skin, knowing that it only takes a second for the wound to heal but up to two weeks for the scar from another vampire's teeth to fade to nothing. 

“All of the vampires we’ve met, they’ve looked so… amused when they understand I drink from you. Why is that? I get that it’s ‘intimate’ but they were pretty much all couples, weren’t they? Not that we’re… you know…”

You haven’t spoken about that, either, really.

It confused you, more so since you last week stumbled across a local couple smiling very cheekily when they saw the scar on Jeongguk’s neck that he’d made absolutely no effort to conceal.

He laughs. “It’s because only I have marks.”

You look puzzled. Yeah, sure, but you don’t understand why that would be amusing.

He looks at your confused face and continues. “The fact that you drink from me but not I from you usually means that I’ve submitted to you. That I belong to you. Which is not very common when I’m so much older than you. It’s usually the other way around if anything.”

“Oh,” you exclaim quietly, lifting your hand to your neck. “Should I…? Do you… want to feed from me? Cause I’m not sure that I…”

You don’t like the idea of losing blood. You know that Jeongguk has said that as a vampire, you quite literally can’t run out, but you don’t like it. Thinking about someone biting your neck has images from the night you died flashing before your eyes. You don’t remember much,  but you remember being scared and how much it hurt. Surely, it would be different to let him bite you, but… you don’t know. You can’t help but feel like maybe you should? Don’t you kind of owe it to him?

“I want to, of course I do, but not that badly. I get that it’s an uncomfortable concept for you, so that’s why I haven’t brought it up. If you ever feel comfortable enough, we can try, because it’s very hot, but otherwise, it doesn’t matter.”

You lower your hand, smiling carefully down at him. He runs his hands over your thighs softly.

“So, you’re really just… ancient?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah? You’re literally older than Jesus?”

He rolls his eyes, still smiling.

“Jokes aside, doesn’t it get boring? You were kinda grumpy when I first met you.”

“Truth be told, it does. I’ve seen everything, mostly even many times over. But getting to see everything with you is like getting to experience it for the first time all over again.”

“That’s kinda… cheesy,” you chuckle, but you can’t deny that it makes you feel warm inside. “Yuqi said you probably needed a change of scenery as well.”

“So what if it’s cheesy? It’s true," he grins, and it's your turn to roll your eyes. "And, yeah, she might’ve been right. I guess vampires get lonely too sometimes.”

Although he's still smiling, you can't help but hurt a little, thinking about him feeling lonely too.

“So then, what’s next?" you ask. "When do we leave for Portugal?”

“Depends on when you want to. I’ll just tell Taehyung we’ll meet them later. As for now, you know Fontana di Trevi?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna take a dip?”

“What? Isn’t it pretty shallow? And probably… illegal?”

“What are they gonna do? Stop us?” He smiles a wide, happy smile, his white fangs almost glimmering in the romantically dimmed light.

<previous | next> author's note: i hope you liked it!! please reblog if you did <3<3<3

[doeeyeseddie]

Piaaaaaa "brushing their arm against the other's, hoping the other would finally catch their arm and hold it close" please, we already know they constantly brush arms anyway!

fridaaaa this took me, once again, many months to get to and i sort of only vaguely filled the actual prompt, but i hope you still enjoy it <3

5+1 things, rated t, wc: 4k

[read on ao3]

I.

Eddie’s first day as a probationary firefighter is…interesting. Captain Nash welcomes him with the same warm smile he gave him the first time they talked, then leads him inside and shows him around the app bay.

“We’ll give you the full tour later,” he promises, “after you’ve met the rest of the team. You’re the first one here, if you want, you can change into your uniform now.”

He points towards the locker room – which has glass walls for some reason – and Eddie nods.

He’s just finished buttoning up his shirt when Captain Nash ushers a group of firefighters inside. Eddie runs a hand through his hair to make sure it’s tidy and smiles as Hen and Chimney introduce themselves to him with warm smiles and handshakes, welcoming him to the team.

There’s a third person with them, hovering in the background and glowering at Eddie. He’s young, probably around Eddie’s age, tall and very built, and despite his hostile expression, he doesn’t give Eddie the impression of being an asshole. It’s like the expression doesn’t fit on his face, like he’s not used to wearing it.

Chim grabs him by the arm and pushes him forward, giving Eddie a commiserating smile.

“And this guy is Buck,” he says. “He was our probie before you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Eddie says politely, stretching a hand out to offer a handshake. “You’ll have to show me how things work around here, then.”

Buck glowers down at his hand, and when he finally grabs it, he squeezes it too tightly, like he’s trying to prove something. Eddie squeezes back, amused by the pretense this guy is clearly putting on.

Behind Buck’s back, Hen rolls her eyes, but she’s also wearing a fond look, which only confirms Eddie’s assumption that Buck isn’t half as bad as he’s pretending to be.

From Captain Nash, he knows that they’re supposed to work together a lot of the time, so that’s gonna be interesting. He doesn’t know why Buck is acting like this, but he’s gonna find out, and then he’s gonna figure out a way to work with Buck anyway.

He didn’t come here to make friends, but he’ll be spending 50 hours a week with these people, and he has to trust them with his life for a lot of that time, so they at the very least need to bury whatever hatchet Buck is carrying right now.

Eddie lets go of his hand with a nod and a polite smile, and gives himself a week to figure Buck out.

II.

The days between the accident and the funeral are kind of a blur.

There’s too much to do and think about, too many decisions to make, too many people to call, too much to organize. He has help – Abuela, Pepa, the entire 118, but it still feels too much.

Shannon was 27, she didn’t have a will, they never talked about any of this. How is Eddie supposed to know how she would like to be buried, or if she’d rather be cremated? What kind of music she would want them to play at her funeral? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not for a very, very long time.

But it did happen, and now Eddie is somehow supposed to know all this about her, his wife, the woman he’s only just let back into his and Christopher’s lives, the woman who asked him for a divorce and completely pulled the rug from under his feet just a day before she died.

Sometimes, he feels like he didn’t know her at all.

His parents are here “to help”, which should be a relief but really isn’t. They never liked Shannon and aren’t making a secret of it, even now that– now that she’s gone. So Eddie can’t involve them in the funeral planning, and he can’t even leave Christopher with them because he’s scared that they’re gonna take the opportunity to grab him and run, and someone needs to make sure that Shannon’s memory is honored, but she didn’t have any family except him and Christopher, and Chris is seven, so Eddie has to be the one to make this funeral beautiful, something she’d deserve, but he doesn’t know– there’s so much–

“Eddie,” someone says next to him, snapping him out of his spiral. “Come on, breathe with me.”

Eddie stares at Buck’s chest as it rises and falls with exaggerated breaths, trying to match him. When did Buck get here? He doesn’t remember letting him in, doesn’t really remember what he was doing before he started hyperventilating on his couch.

“Chris,” he gasps when he realizes that also means he’s not sure where his kid is. And of course he’s the kind of father who would do that only days after his kid lost his mom, maybe his parents are–

“Is with Hen and Karen,” Buck says firmly, grabbing his forearm. “He’s gonna spend the day with them and Denny, probably getting spoiled rotten. I borrowed Pepa’s key when we went over there so they could pick him up, she told me you might not open – sorry for barging in here, but I’m glad I did. I know you– I wanted to– Bobby and Athena are running interference with your parents. And I’m here to help you with all that.” He gestures towards the couch table that’s covered in forms, leaflets from funeral homes, and cards from grief counselors. “After Abby’s mom– I helped plan her funeral. So I’ve got some experience.”

Eddie just stares at him, biting the inside of his cheek hard to stop himself from crying. He trusts Buck, but he still doesn’t want to cry in front of him, doesn’t want to cry in front of anyone. But he does think that maybe he should give Buck his own copy of a key, so he won’t have to borrow Pepa’s next time.

Buck squeezes his forearm and gives him a small, sad smile. “We’re all here for you, Eddie. I got your back, remember?”

Eddie blinks against the tears in his eyes and swallows around the lump in his throat that’s keeping him from saying anything.

Instead, he twists his arm from Buck’s grip and grabs his hand instead, squeezing it in a silent thank you.

Buck squeezes back and keeps holding on.

III.

Buck gets to go home earlier than anyone expected, but Eddie has been to his new apartment, so he isn’t surprised when Buck texts him a picture of his couch with a sad face. It’s not ideal, but at least he has a bathroom downstairs and a girlfriend who can help if he struggles with anything.

Until he doesn’t have that girlfriend anymore.

Eddie doesn’t find out until after his shield ceremony, days after, actually, once his parents have finally gone home to Texas.

Buck says he’s fine, obviously, but Eddie starts going over every day he doesn’t have a shift anyway, because he knows Buck and can see how much he’s struggling with the whole situation, with the uncertainty of when and how he can return to work.

He brings Christopher most of the time. They’re not having the best summer either, Eddie still worries that he’s not doing enough to help Christopher deal with his grief, when he can barely keep his own head above the water of grief, guilt and fear.

Carla is doing what she can, watching Christopher whenever Eddie’s working, she found him a grief counselor and is even looking into more permanent therapists.

None of it changes the fact that they’re grieving. 

But when Christopher gets to hang out with Buck, he lights up every time, and so does Buck, which makes this a two birds with one stone kind of situation. Hanging out with Buck helps them both, too, makes their grief not the first thing on their minds for a little while.

Buck can’t move much, so they play board games and try to find one they all enjoy equally – it’s not easy, since Eddie likes luck-based games (he plays poker with his abuela and tía whenever he can), Buck prefers trivia and games relying on knowledge, while Christopher likes strategic games most.

But everyone gets to pick sometimes, and when they don’t want to play board games, they switch to video games instead.

Eddie knew that Buck and Chris get along well, they have ever since the first time they met, when Buck drove Eddie to Chris’ school after the earthquake during Eddie’s second week at the 118. But with how much time the three of them are spending together now, he can see them growing closer every day – and he loves it.

Buck is his best friend, and he genuinely cares about Christopher in a way that feels completely independent from Eddie.

One evening, while they’re playing a few rounds of Christopher’s current favorite video game after dinner, the kid falls asleep between them on the couch.

Buck smiles down at him and lowers the volume of the TV, which means he loses even more clearly to Eddie, but he had the win in the bag anyway, he’s sure.

Buck rolls his eyes at him when Eddie celebrates his victory with big, silent gestures, but he’s smiling, too.

Eddie grins at him, resting his arm on the back of the couch behind Chris, and Buck twists a little to face him. His leg, resting outstretched on the couch table in front of them, moves with him, and Eddie slides Christopher’s glass of water out of the way in a practiced move.

“I know you’re here to keep an eye on me,” Buck says, “and I should probably be annoyed. I– I was kind of annoyed, at first. But it’s hard to stay annoyed when he’s here, right?” He nods down at Christopher. “And I guess you’re okay, too.”

“Wow, thanks,” Eddie says, but he knows his glare isn’t convincing. “To be clear, we’re all keeping an eye on each other.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Buck reaches for Eddie’s hand, still on the backrest between them, and squeezes it – just for a moment, like he’s trying to get Eddie’s attention, like he doesn’t already have it anyway. “Thanks.”

IV.

Everything sucks.

It’s the uncertainty that gets to Eddie most, the not knowing how to help, how to stay safe, how to keep his loved ones safe. How long this is gonna last.

Every day, they have to see people die from a virus they know nothing about, and can’t do anything against.

And afterwards, they can’t even go home.

Christopher is part of a high risk group, and Eddie risks exposure at work every day, so obviously, he can’t endanger him by living with him. Chimney feels the same way about Maddie, and Hen also wants to keep her family safe, which is how the three of them ended up at Buck’s apartment, where they’ve been camped out for the past three weeks.

It’s generous of Buck to let them all stay with him, but the loft is not made for four people to live there, and they’re all feeling it.

Eddie loves his friends, but spending every minute of every day with them is starting to wear on him. They all try to give each other space, using the balcony as an extra room or going for runs outside, but there’s only so much they can do. 

He hates being separated from Chris, it makes him feel like he’s breaking his promise to never leave him behind again. Christopher says he understands, but Eddie worries anyway. He trusts Pepa, who’s working fully remote and offered to stay with Chris, and they talk every day, but it’s not the same as being there.

Whenever he talks to Chris on the phone, he feels better in the moment, but worse the second they hang up. While they’re talking, he can almost pretend that things are normal, but it all comes crashing down afterwards.

He hasn’t hugged his son in weeks, and he has no idea when he’s even gonna see him in person again.

Buck joins their calls most of the time, at least for a few minutes, and he sits next to Eddie on the bed now, shoulders slumped where they’re touching Eddie’s. In a world where he has to keep his distance from almost everyone, except the patients he’s treating and the people he’s living with, touching and being touched by Buck is a real comfort.

“This won’t be forever, Eddie,” he says, almost desperately. 

“But for how long?” Eddie asks, and it comes out sounding a little wobbly.

He’s not embarrassed by it anymore – Buck’s seen him in all kinds of situations, and they’re currently sharing a bed, so he’s seen him cry anyway.

“I–I wish I knew,” Buck says. “I wish I could– fix this.”

Eddie wipes at his eye and laughs a little. “The whole pandemic?”

“If I could, yeah.” Buck shrugs.

Eddie presses even closer to him for a moment, a gentle pressure of their shoulders, arms and thighs against each other. “I wish you could, too. But even if you can’t – I’m glad you’re here.”

“Of course.” Buck smiles at him and places his hand on Eddie’s thigh, palm up.

Eddie smiles back and grabs his hand, squeezing tightly.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. “I think it’s our turn to make dinner tonight – you ready?”

“Ready when you are,” Buck says, but he doesn’t let go until Eddie does.

V.

After Chris has gone to sleep, after Eddie has finally stopped crying, after Buck has wrapped his knuckles and cleaned up the worst of the mess in Eddie’s bedroom – the shards, the pieces of drywall, the fallen furniture, he makes up the couch for Eddie to sleep on. Eddie wants to help him, to tell him that he’ll just sleep in his room, but he can’t seem to move from his seat at the dining table.

Everything feels like too much, his hands hurt and his head worse, and he can’t stand the thought of Buck leaving. He’s exhausted, but he knows he won’t sleep if Buck goes home now.

But he can’t ask him to stay, not after Buck already dropped everything because Eddie couldn’t keep it together. He probably had plans, and Eddie ruined those too.

He can already feel the hot burn of tears behind his eyes again and drops his forehead onto his arms, folded on the table in front of him.

Buck’s hand lands on his back, warm, then travels up to squeeze the back of his neck gently.

“You ready to sleep?” he murmurs, and Eddie makes a noncommittal sound. “Come on, you must be exhausted.”

Eddie shrugs and Buck’s thumb brushes along his hairline.

“You don’t have to go in there, I can get you anything you need,” Buck says quietly. “And I’ll be right next to you in case you have a nightmare.”

“You’re staying?” Eddie asks, lifting his head. Buck’s hand stays where it is.

“Of course, Eddie,” Buck says, like it’s that easy.

And maybe it is that easy, Eddie thinks when they settle in next to each other in the living room, Eddie on the couch and Buck on a makeshift bed next to it. He’s pushed the couch table to the side to make room for it and it looks like he’s dragged Eddie’s mattress here, so at least Eddie doesn’t need to worry about him sleeping on the floor.

They’ve been by each other’s side through so much shit, maybe it’s not such a surprise that Buck wants to be here now too. He’s just not sure he deserves it.

“I’m sorry,” he says, staring up at the ceiling instead of looking at Buck. “You had plans– I’m sure you didn’t want to–”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Buck says firmly. “Of course I’ll come whenever Christopher calls. O–or if you need me. I’m here, okay?”

“I keep thinking about her,” Eddie mumbles, pressing the heels of his hands to his burning eyes. “Mills. Last August– I should’ve– if I’d picked up the phone earlier–”

“This isn’t on you.” There’s rustling and then Buck is gripping Eddie’s forearms, trying to gently pull his hands away from his face. “I d-don’t know what Mills was going through, but I know that you couldn’t have known how bad it was. It’s sad, and it’s unfair, but it’s not your fault. And I know you’re feeling all these things now, but Eddie– I’m so happy you’re still here. I need you to– know that. Okay?”

Eddie finally lowers his arms, but instead of letting go fully, Buck just grabs his right hand and holds on. His eyes are wide and scared, and Eddie has scared too many people he loves tonight.

“Okay,” he says, even though– well. What makes him special? Why should he be the only one to get out? He’s not a better person than any of them, he doesn’t have a right to happiness or whatever he’s been deluding himself into believing he could have. 

But he knows that he can’t tell Buck that now (or ever), knows that it’s a dark road to go down.

Maybe for tonight, with Buck by his side, he can keep the thoughts at bay for a little bit longer. After that– he has no idea. But Buck is still holding his hand, and Eddie may not deserve him, but he trusts him.

He thinks it may just give him enough hope to get through this night.

+ I

“This was nice,” Buck says, holding the door for Eddie as they leave the restaurant. “You, uh, you really didn’t have to pay, though.”

“I wanted to,” Eddie says with a smile, glancing right towards their cars and then left to where the beach is only a short walk away, and finally back to Buck’s face, finding him already looking back. “How do you feel about taking a walk?”

Buck grins, turning left. “Let’s go.”

They’re not on a date, or at least they haven’t called it that, but Eddie has been thinking that it feels like one all night. Technically, they’re two friends trying out a new restaurant together. They drove here separately, no one pulled anyone’s chair out, they talked the same way they always do.

But Eddie spent half an hour picking something to wear tonight, Buck is wearing a shirt that looks new and gorgeous and fit for a date, and every time their eyes caught across the table, Eddie thought that maybe, Buck wouldn’t pull away if he reached out and took his hand.

It’s not the first time Eddie has thought that. Ever since Buck and Tommy broke up, it’s felt like maybe they’re heading towards something, familiar touches lingering and turning into something new, gazes catching and then holding instead of looking away.

Buck was upset for a little while afterwards, but he admitted to Eddie that it was more about another failed relationship – and his first one with a man, after he thought he’d finally figured out what was missing, than about Tommy as a person.

He went on a couple of dates, with men and women, but nothing ever stuck.

Eddie was going through his own stuff at the time – he eventually came out to Buck a week before Chris finally came home, and Buck hasn’t been on a date since.

Sometimes, Eddie wonders (hopes), if the two things are related.

Still, neither of them has called tonight a date – yet.

Eddie glances at Buck’s profile while they’re walking, and wonders what he’s waiting for.

Yes, it’s scary because Buck is the most important person in his life right after Christopher, but it’s also not, because this is Buck. Who has been by Eddie’s side through the worst, most painful, most humiliating times of his life, and is still here. Buck, who Eddie trusts with his life, and his son, and his heart.

Buck smiles at him and Eddie smiles back, heartbeat picking up. He’s doing this, he’s gonna tell Buck how he feels. Any minute now, he’s gonna be brave enough.

“Hey,” Buck says, “it’s just me.”

“I know,” Eddie says, and his heart thumps against his ribs. He lets his fingers brush against Buck’s on their next swing and watches as Buck bites his lip, smiling down at the ground. Hushed, like a confession, he adds, “Are you nervous, too?”

Buck looks back up at him then, eyes glittering in the dark. “Y-yeah. I am.”

They’ve reached the edge of the beach by now and bend down to take off their shoes without having to talk about it.

When they start walking again, they’re even closer than before, the backs of their hands, their elbows and shoulders all brushing with every step.

Eddie keeps stealing glances at Buck, and almost every time, Buck is already looking back.

There aren’t many people at the beach at this time of day, so they don’t come close to anyone else, and all they hear is the sand beneath their feet and the waves crashing a few feet away. The moon is big enough to be reflected on the sea, a beautiful sight, but Eddie still can’t look away from Buck for long.

“So, this is, uh, kind of romantic,” Buck blurts out after a few quiet minutes. “Right? I–I’m not misreading that?”

“No,” Eddie says. “I mean– you’re not misreading it.”

“But you’re nervous.”

When their knuckles brush again, Eddie stretches out his fingers and catches Buck’s, holding on. Buck’s own fingers tighten immediately, and it gives Eddie the last bit of courage he needs.

“Well, yeah. Buck–” He stops walking, and Buck follows, turning so he’s facing Eddie. He’s close enough that Eddie can see his expression despite the dark, and he looks terrified, hopeful, nervous and excited at the same time, all of which Eddie feels, too. Eddie takes a deep breath. “I’m nervous because– nothing…no one’s ever been this important.”

A smile spreads out across Buck’s face, slowly deepening the crinkles around his eyes. “So this was a date?”

“Did it feel like one to you, too?”

Buck’s smile widens. “Yeah, i–it did. And I’m–I’m nervous too, of course. Eddie, if we do this, there’s no going back for me. I can’t– lose you. You and Christopher, you’re too important.”

He pulls on Eddie’s hand a little, and Eddie takes another step closer, drops his shoes in the sand and places his free hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb resting against his collarbone.

“It’s the same for me,” he says quietly. He shivers when Buck grabs his waist, the warmth of his hand seeping through Eddie’s shirt. “I– We don’t know what’s gonna happen. But, Buck– I love you. I love you so much, I have for…way longer than I was aware of it, and I just don’t see that going away. And I don’t think it’s fair to us to deny ourselves when I really think we could make each other– so happy. I know I can make you happy, and I want to prove it to you every day of my life, Buck.”

Buck is just staring at him with a dazed expression, his lips slightly parted, and Eddie suddenly can’t stand not kissing him for a second longer.

He slides his hand from Buck’s shoulder to the back of his neck, watches Buck’s eyes flutter shut and feels his fingers tighten on his waist, and then he’s finally, finally closing the distance between them.

Buck makes a soft sound against his mouth, like he’s still somehow surprised this is happening, but he gets on board very quickly, and Eddie stops thinking entirely.

When they pull back breathlessly, Eddie’s hair is a mess – he can feel the loose strands on his forehead – his lips are still tingling, and Buck’s got both arms wrapped around him tightly.

“In case that wasn’t clear,” Buck gasps, and lifts a hand to cup Eddie’s cheek. His thumb brushes over Eddie’s chin and caresses his lower lip, and Eddie presses a kiss to the pad of it. “I love you, too.”

[sassydefendorflower]

Okay. It's been a hot second since I watched FMA and I've been meaning to revisit. BUT. Something that always got to me, watching it, was Ed and Al's youth and their relationship to the military and power? Does that... that might be too vague. But is that something you can work with?

Ohhhhhh, that is SUCH a juicy topic and I probably can't even begin to touch up on all of it... but let's get started, shall we?

Sometimes that I always deeply loved (and found horribly frustrating) is how convincing Ed and Al are written as teenagers. Genius teenagers, maybe, but teenagers nonetheless. We see this wonderfully in the very first episode of the anime, when Isaac McDougal (what a delightful name) tells them that there's something wrong with the country, that the military is involved in that, and Ed literally tells him "I don't care. You have a philosopher's stone, right?".

Like.

WOW.

Plot of the whole show could be over right then and there if Ed had only stopped to listen. But, of course, that's not what a teenager would do, especially one so guiltridden he can only see his incredibly selfish goal right in front of him.

We are at the beginning of the story, after all, and there needs to be some room for character development.

But Ed and Al never quite lose that selfish, teenage viewpoint even as they grow (Ed comparing the bombing of Resembool with the genocide of Ishval to Major Miles' face, Ed throwing a hissy fit when they join forces with Scar even though Winry has made peace with it, Al sounding all of five years old when he repeats "Hughes moved to the countryside" like a child whose favorite animal just "ran away") but they do grow. Considerably.

They were always good kids. They always had an inane sense of fairness. But by the end of it, that sense of fairness has grown beyond them and their immediate surroundings. They can see farther than just themselves and Winry and the handful of people they call friends.

By the end of if their good deeds changed enough in the hearts of the Amestrian people to allow a certain degree of unity.

But how does that relate to power and the military?

Now, you see, Amestris is presented to us as a military state and we quite often get the sense that the military is the most common career path available to most of the country. At least if you want to eat. Somehow the Amestrian military has to feed all these endless wars after all, and that only happens if people join up voluntarily.

And it only happens if the benefits are good enough.

Which is exactly how Roy gets them. He dangles hope in front of their small, traumatized faces and makes it quite clear that the military is the only way to get what they want.

They need research materials, power, and the oversight of the state. They get all that by Ed joining up with the State Alchemists programme. As a civilian, all of that would be restricted and inaccessible to him.

But -- even in the beginning -- Ed never really identifies with his identity as a Dog of the Military beyond his title. He, in odds to all other State Alchemists, is known as Hero of the People, because while the rest of the Amestrian military exploits and the State Alchemists break with their promise of "be thou for the people" Ed and Al do give back. They do help. They do free towns from corrupt military officials, they do fight terrorists on trains, they do fix a street vendor's broken radio.

Ed is uncomfortable with the power he theoretically holds. When Maria Ross and Danny Brosh call him "sir" and use his official rank, Ed asks them to just call him Ed, saying that he's nothing special. We never once see him lever his status as "major" over any of the lower ranking officers. Later, we see him desert with no regards to his future career, and by the end we know he quit because the military was only ever a means to an end. And he reached that end. He reached his goal.

Ed never shows respect for authority figures (but he does salute Hughes once, so he must have had some formal training on how to behave), he doesn't claim the power he is theoretically owed beyond the independence it allows him, he has no invested interest in the politics of it all (even though he is aware of them), and he actively fights the corruption within the military when personally affected by it (even if he is way too selfish in the beginning to see the bigger question).

And both he and Al hate killing. They seem to accept it as a part of a soldier's job -- their problem isn't death, I don't think, considering how unbothered they are by dead bodies throughout the show - but the act itself is so abhorrent to them, that they try to stop even tangentially related murder plots simply because they want no part in it. It is naive -- the show tells us so. Many of its characters tell us so.

But.

But it is also a reclamation of Ed's agency. And it is hope for the future. Because Ed knows that he has become a Dog of the Military, he knows -- on some level -- that he's just sold his soul to a monster far bigger than him, but he will keep this one part of his innocence for himself. He will not kill in the name of the Amestrian government.

And you know what? Riza Hawkeye is impressed with him for that. Because she pulled the trigger when ordered to, and Ed is her hope for the future. Because he is the next generation. And he refuses to do what she once did.

(I think it is interesting to investigate under which circumstances Ed would kill and how that would influence his character and what would be the consequences of that, but for the sake of the show itself, I think it is a wonderful visualization of the world healing beyond what Riza and Roy and Armstrong and Marcoh and Kimblee did to it)

Now, how does that all tie together?

Well, I think it is Ed's youth that allows him to disregard much of the military's power over his life, and it is his stubborn teenage-ness that allows both him and Al to hold so steadfast to their ideals, be that the selfish goal of self-realization or the refusal to kill. Not once does either character strive for power, and even at the end of the series, once they're all grown up, we see them long for a simple life. For interesting travels, good food, family, and a future worth living.

The military is a tool, for Ed and Al - because the military state ensured that they would have to use it.

It is interesting, really, because Roy joined up because he believed the propaganda, and once he recruits the Elrics he's been firmly broken by that belief -- and the Elrics join up even though they distrust the military (the Rockbells seem firmly anti-military all things considered) simply because it offers the resources they need.

If Ed was any other protagonist this would be a very different story, because they handed a twelve-year old a whole lot of power and a pretty high-up rank and the worst he did was blow up a few buildings and buy ugly clothes.

This is probably not at all what you expected, but... well, you successfully activated my rambling button! AND MANY THANKS FOR THAT!!! <3 <3 <3

[h3llh0und64]

TW: RAPE THROUGHOUT

While curlys approach was indeed not the greatest, I want to explore his other options. (This is mainly so I can know how to approach the situation if I was in anya or culys position.)

Given what we know pony Express sucks, curly would likely face consequences if he were to approach jimmy directly. Jimmy would most likely lat his anger out on Anya and make it worse and then curly would have to use force which could have curly lose his position as captain. I know "your position doesn't matter, someone got assaulted!", but it's still something to be taken into account. It's a risky move. Curly has no backup and we don't know how he lives and how much money he can risk to lose to then affect him negatively. I know it can be seen as selfish, but I don't think I'd be willing to go homeless for anybody. He couldn't exactly revoke jimmy of his co-pilot status since that was given by the company. Curly still should've stayed with Anya and attempted to support her more and maybe ask her what she'd like him to do since it is her situation and stepping in without being asked could make things worse. If curly were to opposes jimmy and tell him off, that could lead to Jimmy trying to do worse to Anya since she "snitched". 

What curly could've done was use the company mandated gun.

Though this also has issues. When hearing about your friend doing something horrible, you're going to be skeptical and your feelings for someone don't exactly die in an instant. He would need some time to proccess and understand the situation as a whole before being able to bring himself to consider his options. Even so, we don't know if curly would have it in him to kill somebody or somebody he's known for ages so simply. If curly would falter or shake, jimmy could easily get the gun from him and instead use it on curly or Anya or the whole crew since he was indeed trying to kill everybody inside by crashing the ship to avoid the consequences of his horrible actions.

Curly could've just waited to get back to report Jimmy and silently stay with Anya to help and protect her in silence because anya and curly are already friends. They are trapped in a metal cage in space. Anya has no safe escape, so putting a target on her back by talking to Jimmy about what happened could make things worse for her. And we know that none of the rooms have locks so it's not like she could lick herself away from him.

Still, curlys approach of "we'll fix it" was not a good one.

This is vaguely based on my own experience. 

In highschool I was in a mainly male dominant class and heard a few rape jokes that made me feel uncomfortable and unsafe.  I thought about my options and ended up nlt reporting them for the sake of my own safety. If the teacher were to slip and say I was the one who reported it, I could've gotten hurt or worse since I "snitched" to the teacher.

Thank you for reading this and please feel free to give me your interpretations and ideas. I would love to have more variables and expand my views on this topic! 

[schrijverr]

No, Daddy, I Want Papi’s Helmet

Divergence from chapter 18 to 19, where Chris gives the secret away when he’s staying at the 118 firehouse after Abuela broke her hip. In this universe, the PT switch didn’t happen, facilitating the reveal.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (pre-slash)

Warnings: ableism mention, homophobia mention

~~~

Eddie buckles Chris in with tense shoulders and Buck wishes he could make it better, wishes he never suggested it with Chris in hearing range, because then Eddie wouldn’t have felt obliged to say yes.

Buck could have just gone back to the station and convinced Bobby that Eddie really needed to stay with his Abuela and he’d be fine without a partner for the day. He feels like an idiot for opening his big mouth and making Eddie uncomfortable. Both of them know the chances of any of this ending well are improbably low.

So, he anxiously watches Eddie fuss with the seatbelt, before he closes the car door. Wanting to know where his head is at, before they walk into the lion’s den, Buck asks: “What are you thinking?”

“That this is going to be a shit show,” Eddie answers honestly, rubbing his face.

“It’s not determined they’re going to find out.”

“He calls you papi, Buck.”

Okay, yeah, that is a fair point. It’s pretty damning if a child you’ve supposedly only known exists for a week or two calls you papi. People are going to want an explanation and Buck isn’t going to be able to come up with a good one that doesn’t give everything away. If Chris was still a baby and couldn’t talk, this whole thing would be easier.

The thought triggers a heartbreaking idea in his brain, but he still has to say it. Has to offer Eddie this out, even if it will tear himself to shreds inside. “We can ask him not to do that. It’s only for a little over an hour by the time we get there,” he suggests, aiming for causal and probably missing by a mile.

“That’s not fair on you.” Eddie is already shaking his head before Buck is done talking. For a moment, Buck fears Eddie found him out, but then Eddie adds. “And what sort of message would we be sending if they did find out? I don’t want Hen to think we’re raising Chris to be homophobic, just because we’re straight.”

It’s adorable how determined Eddie looks. Every time Buck is reminded how hard Eddie is trying to be a better father than his own, Buck falls in love with him all over again.

“Alright,” he says. “We’ll leave this one up for the universe, then. But we should probably get the good kind of bribery coffee. We’re probably gonna need it.”

Eddie throws his head back in a laugh, before he agrees. Then they get into the car and drive off, Buck behind the wheel as always.

Buck pulls up into everyone’s favorite coffee shop that they usually don’t go to, since it’s slightly out of their way. Both of them are nervous, that much is clear, even if they try not to be. While he waits in line, he calls Bobby, explaining the situation as vaguely as he can, while still getting the results he needs.

He’s pretty sure Eddie is as nervous as he is when they get to the firehouse, but if he’s nervous, Eddie will only get more nervous and if they’re both nervous, Chris will get nervous. So, he stuffs any sort of nervousness down and plasters on a big smile as he gets out the car and waits for Eddie to help Chris out of his seat.

They’re going to give this some semblance of a try, so Buck doesn’t walk as near as he usually does, when they enter under the curious gazes of the others.

His own shoulders want to tense, but he stops them and Eddie relaxes slightly when he seems at ease, so he keeps it up. He loudly greets everyone as he usually would. Normalcy is key. “We come bearing bribery coffee.”

“I would say who cares about coffee when you’re bringing such an esteemed guest, but I really need my caffeine fix,” Hen jokes, a big gentle smile on her face.

She probably knows how nerve wracking it is to introduce people to your kid and Buck smiles at the gesture. He is about to make a joke about Chris being way more important than some coffee and more than enough of a fix to get you through the day, but stops himself. It’s not his place right now.

Eddie, however, is in sync with him as ever and picks up on it. Clumsily joking in his stead: “Hey, Chris is way better than coffee.” He looks slightly mortified at himself, but Buck and Chris both grin widely.

However, no one else seems to notice and Hen just laughs quietly: “I believe you,” before she turns to Chris and holds out her hand. “Hi, I’m Hen. I heard a lot about you, you’re a real smart kid.”

That was partly a lie, since Buck hadn’t been able to brag and Eddie is still private and not great at talking about emotions. But no one is going to call her out on that when Chris is smiling the way he is.

“Hello, I’m Christopher,” he says, shaking her hand. “You’re really cool. Daddy and papi say so.”

Hen pauses for a second at that and Buck and Eddie both hold their breath. She quickly glances over to Eddie – they worked hard for Buck to not even be considered – and sees his the apprehension, before quickly covering any reaction and smiling as she tells Eddie: “Oh, I like him.”

Their shoulders relax. Buck assumes that Hen must think Chris just accidentally outed Eddie and is helping him by pretending to not have noticed. He appreciates that about her, not just because it works in their favor.

Chimney follows her lead, sending a quick glance between her and Eddie, before swooping in. “Hey, what about me? I’m cool.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Chimney.”

“Chimney! I know you. You have a silly name,” Chris informs him seriously, getting laughs from everyone.

The tension has been broken and Chris easily accepted without any realizations. Buck thinks they might actually get through this okay, going to grin at Eddie, only to find him looking choked up at the three moving towards the stairs as Chris asks all about the ambulance.

Buck knows how nervous Eddie always is about people meeting Chris. Not because he is ashamed of him, but because people always seem to judge Eddie as if there is something wrong with him, with both of them, which is fucking terrible and makes Buck want to deck whoever makes Eddie feel like that.

Getting this easy acceptance from everyone must mean the world for him. Buck should know, he’s in the same boat. There isn’t anything to say, though, so Buck just gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze, before jogging to catch up with everyone.

Chris is determined to get up the stairs by himself and Buck easily lets him as Chris chats away about what he’s studying at school and what his daddy and papi told him about the trucks, asking a thousand more questions about the ambulances, since Hen and Chimney know them better.

Every time he mentions papi and daddy, he sees how Hen and Chimney send looks to Eddie, clearly waiting for him to acknowledge it, but he never does. Buck is pretty sure they’re dying to ask, but aren’t going to with Chris there. It makes him dread what will happen after Maddie comes to pick him up.

From how Chris is talking, it’s clear that both his dads are firefighters. When it comes to fun facts – of which Chris has many, Buck is so proud of him – Chris always starts with ‘Papi said…’ And Buck is pretty sure none of them are buying that Eddie has been supplying him with those facts.

In these moments, Buck is glad Chris was too young to realize it’s a little odd that Buck is papi, because that might be the only thing throwing everyone off their scent right now.

Then Bobby comes over and Buck’s stomach tightens. This will be another hurdle. Jovially, Bobby says: “What’s this? I don’t remember asking the chief for reinforcements. You any good with a hose, kid?”

“I can try,” Chris smiles and everyone chuckles.

“Alright,” Bobby smiles back, because Chris’s smile is infectious.

And even though Buck knows that Bobby doesn’t know that’s his kid too, it makes him fly that Bobby seems to be taken with him immediately. Buck craves Bobby’s approval so bad and having Bobby approve of his kid is the best feeling.

Eddie on the other hand, tenses and gets up as he explains: “So sorry, Cap. Maddie, uhm, Buck’s sister is getting off work early so she can take him, before my tía can, but you know LA traffic, so until then w- I- I didn’t know where to take him.”

“Yeah, you did. Right here. Buck gave me a heads up. I already cleared it with the chief,” Bobby says, nodding towards Buck, who smiles at Eddie, trying not to look too love struck when Eddie looks back with those big, beautiful brown eyes.

For a moment, it looks like Eddie is going to cry, but the attention gets pulled away from him before he does by Bobby asking: “Did you get a tour of the trucks yet, kid?”

“No,” Chris answers, hopefully excited.

“Well then, what do you say about a tour?” Bobby asks him.

“Can I?” Chris asks immediately, looking absolutely thrilled at the idea. He hasn’t caught on that no one seems to realize Buck is also his dad, and while he directs the question at both of them, he looks over at Eddie first, since he’s standing next to Bobby.

“Course, we can look at the trucks,” Eddie smiles.

Before Chris can look to him for confirmation as well, Buck grabs Chris under his armpits and swings him over the back of the couch, putting him on his feet again with a, “Let’s go, Superman!” getting a delighted shriek from Chris as expected.

It’s probably a little too familiar for a kid that he supposedly doesn’t know that well, but Buck ignores whatever looks get send his way. He loves kids. And he loves this kid in particular. It already sucks enough that he can’t be as loudly proud as he wants to be. Let him have this.

Eddie steps up next to him soon enough, asking: “Wanna walk downstairs by yourself too, mijo?”

“No. Carry me?” Chris asks and Buck is so proud of him. They’ve raised him well, asking for what he wants, what he needs, when he has to, and doing it by himself when he can and wants to.

“Yeah, here.” Eddie sweeps Chris up in his arms, putting him on his hips and handing his crutches over to Buck with practiced ease.

It’s so natural that neither of them even realize they shouldn’t be doing that here, until Chimney claps Buck on the back and grins: “Always in sync, you two, huh?”

“Haha, I guess,” Buck blushes, hurrying down the stairs after Eddie and Chris before anyone can study his face too closely.

While Chris had the most questions about the ambulances, he wants to see the engine and ladder truck the most. It’s what he’s heard all the stories about it. And he wants to do it on his own, demanding to be put down, the second they get downstairs. Buck is glad he hurried after them, so he can hand Chris his crutches before he even has to ask for them.

Chris clatters over to the engine, looking at all the stuff that he can see, excitedly pointing at the hose as he says: “It has a loop, just like you said!”

“You know why, kid?” Bobby asks, looking pleased that his way of doing things is important enough to Chris to get pointed out by him.

“Papi said it’s because if you leave a loop and stick your arm through, it makes for a faster carry and speed is important,” Chris recites.

“That’s right,” Bobby smiles.

Chris proceeds to ask more questions, already being way more knowledgeable about the vehicles than most kids his age. He’s been hearing firefighter stories for a year and a half already and when Buck’s excited about a topic, he pulls Chris with him and vise versa. They feed on each other’s curiosity and energy.

Just when they think they’re getting off scot free, Chris wanders over to where everyone’s turnouts are gasping: “Can I try on a real firefighter helmet?”

“Of course, here you go,” Eddie says, grabbing his own, even though Chris is standing in front of Buck’s helmet, and moving to put it on his head.

“No, daddy, I want papi’s helmet,” Chris protest. “You’re still a probie, he’s a real-real firefighter.”

Buck is pretty sure that if the ‘oh fuck’ didn’t hit Eddie at that moment, he would have been more offended by that, going to give Buck a playful glare, before what Chris said registers and he instead looks at everyone else with wide eyes.

There’s a beat of silence wherein everyone tries to piece together what they just heard and process what that means. Their eyes rapidly go from Chris to Eddie to Buck, then back to Eddie to Buck again, then to Chris.

Fuck, we’re so caught, Buck thinks.

However, the silence isn’t over yet and he’s not going to let Chris feel like he did something wrong. So, he acts like this isn’t a huge thing that just got revealed, instead smiling at Chris as he grabs his own helmet and carefully puts it on Chris’s head. “There you go, Superman, a real-real firefighter helmet. Way cooler than daddy’s probie helmet, right?”

Eddie catches on to what he’s doing, unfreezing himself and forcing himself to act casual. “You know there’s no difference between the helmets, right? I also have a real-real firefighter helmet.”

“I know,” Chris smiles, looking absolutely adorable in the over-sized helmet. “Papi said only the Captain has a different helmet, but it’s about the idea.”

It seems that a repeat of ‘papi said’ is enough to unpause the others, who have been watching Buck and Eddie brush this whole thing off with great confusion. It was such a smooth blasé turn of events that they almost started to think they imagined it. But no, Chris is still very much there, in Buck’s helmet, calling him papi and reciting his facts.

“Papi?” Bobby finds his voice first, though he only manages the word, butchering its pronunciation slightly.

Chris doesn’t seem to notice how the vibe has shifted very quickly and just nods proudly, helmet nearly falling off. “Daddy and papi are both firefighters, but daddy’s still on his probationary period.” He slows down on the big words, carefully sounding them out. “They’re heroes.”

Despite the situation, Buck can’t help the pleased smile and blush that appear at the declaration. It will always feel good to hear his son be so proud of him. Of both of them.

“So you- so you two…” Chim starts, then trails off, pointing between Buck and Eddie with a confused look. It’s as if he isn’t sure where to start asking.

Before anyone can figure out what to ask, the alarm starts ringing and they all stare up at the flashing lights for a second like caught animals.

Buck snaps out of it first. He knows they’re in deep shit, but they need to help people first. It’s a small fender bender, shouldn’t be anything too traumatizing to Chris, but he’s not going to make it worse by going over Bobby’s head. So, he asks: “Am I man behind, or are we taking Chris with us?”

“We can take him with us,” Bobby decides. These accidents are often nothing big, but if there are a lot of cars, they need the extra hands. And they’re already next to the trucks anyway.

Besides, while his head might still be reeling, a small part of him looks between Buck and Chris and suddenly sees all the similarities. The way Chris was religiously asking questions and spouting facts moments ago suddenly very familiar. Much like his papi, he can’t deny Chris the opportunity to see everything in action. The thought of having a grandkid intruding on his brain without his permission.

With that decision made, Buck gently pulls the helmet from Chris’s head and puts it on his own, before lifting Chris into the truck and smiling: “Save my seat, alright, buddy?”

“Sí, papi,” Chris smiles back, legs kicking excitedly at being in the truck.

The others only hear the exchange, too busy with pulling on their turnouts. Since Buck had a delayed start, the others have already climbed in when he gets there. Eddie pulls Chris onto his lap while Buck climbs in, before handing him back, so Buck can buckle him in next to him.

Everyone is watching the exchange as if it’s something alien and Buck wants to snap at them to stop it, because Chris has gotten enough of that as it is. However, he knows it’s not because of Chris that they’re looking at them like that – well, it is, but not like that – and snapping isn’t going to help them when they’re in enough trouble as it is.

They pull out of the firehouse at record speed and Chris gives a loud cheer, clearly thrilled to be a part of this. Despite the situation, Buck smiles broadly and pulls out his phone to take a picture of Chris with the huge headphones on in the back of the fire engine.

This is sadly taken as an invitation to start asking questions, of which they must have many now that everyone has had the time to gather their wits.

Hen starts it off, asking: “So, when did the whole papi thing start?” A valid question, since it would be quite the leap to have taken after learning about Eddie’s son a few weeks ago with the earthquake.

Before Buck or Eddie can start, Chris is already explaining: “Well, papi was Evan first when he worked with the chickies, but then mommy left,” Chris’s lip wobbles for a second, but he braves on, “and papi stayed forever. But he was still Evan, but then he and daddy got married and Ms. Jane said that made him my daddy too, but daddy was already daddy, so he’s papi.”

The answer does nothing to get them out of trouble, in fact, it probably only gets them deeper into trouble. However, Buck’s heart can’t help but do a happy little flip at Chris’s confidence in stating he’s staying forever.

“Married? But what about-” Chimney starts to loudly say something, before cutting himself off. He looks at Chris uncomfortably, then at Eddie, who is giving him a confused look, trying to guess what the fuck Chimney is on about.

Buck, however, can take a guess and cringes slightly. Still, the last thing he wants is for them to think they watched him cheat on Eddie for his first few months at the 118. That is never the kind of man he wants to be. Never.

So, he clarifies: “Yeah. We got married as friends. Great tax benefits and stepparent adoption. This little guy is legally half mine,” he grins, ruffling Chris’s hair.

“Uh-huh,” Chris nods excitedly. “We went to court and it was all official and we went to the courthouse too. They made daddy and papi kiss, it was really silly.”

Both Eddie and Buck blush at the reminder, though Buck supposes they’re blushing for very different reasons. He’s honestly happy if his wedding day kiss is the only kiss he’ll ever get. He treasures the memory. Eddie probably not so much. Buck tries not to think about it.

Hen looks between the two of them, clearly not believing it. She says: “You got married for the tax benefits and for adoption?” her voice asking why the fuck they would do that.

“Yup,” Buck answers, trying to act casual. Chris is still right there and they’ve already dragged up Shannon leaving today, he wants to spare him as many reminders, but he needs the others to stop asking questions. So, he slings his arm around Chris and smiles at him, Chris smiling back. “So, me and Superman here could continue to hang out while daddy was out saving people, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah!” Chris cheers, thankfully taking the comment as not something to be sad about because papi isn’t sad about it. “Daddy took care of everyone, giving band aids to all the soldiers.”

Realization dawns on everyone’s faces as they figure out Buck raised Chris while Eddie was out on his tour in the army. Eddie looks like he always does when someone reminds him of having to leave Chris behind; devastated, but locking it up. However, is face softens slightly at Chris’s unwavering support and recount of what he did.

The air gets awkward now, everyone unsure what to ask, wanting to get all the details, but not wanting to interrogate Buck and Eddie in front of their kid.

After a few moments, Bobby clears his throat and changes the subject, telling them about the accident they’re driving up to. He also tells Chris all about the headsets and the communication system, with as much flair as he usually has for school trips, maybe a little more. Seeing it makes Buck’s heart warm and he hopes they haven’t fucked it all up entirely.

They arrive at the accident and everyone gets out. Except for Eddie and Chris after a look between him and Buck to check who’s gonna stay behind with him.

As Buck walks away, he hears Bobby say: “I’ll watch Chris. I need you out there with Buck. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him.”

“Yeah, daddy, you got to have papi’s back, right?” Chris says, which must be enough to convince Eddie, because soon enough he’s at Buck’s side.

While they work, they keep their heads down and stay quiet. Both feel like scolded school boys and they don’t want to get more attention on them than necessary.

From time to time they shoot a look towards Chris, who looks to be having the time of his life listening to Bobby, who is smiling as well as he explains what’s going on. Buck hopes that’s a good sign, hopes that means Bobby isn’t too mad at them. At him. Buck hates the idea of Bobby being mad at him.

Hen and Chimney go with the ambulance to a nearby hospital with one of their patients, so it’s just the four of them in the rig back. Bobby is allowing Chris to sit up front with him, letting him pull the horn even though he’s usually against such frivolous use of equipment, much to Chris’s delight.

Both Buck and Eddie watch nervously, with Eddie sending Buck a look asking ‘what does that mean?’ and Buck sending a look back that conveys ‘I don’t know, but maybe something good?’

When they get to the firehouse, Buck gets a notification on his phone. “Maddie says she’s held up and is going to be a little later.”

“Looks like you’re going to be hanging out with us a little longer, kid,” Bobby tells Chris.

“I don’t mind,” Chris grins broadly.

“Of course, you don’t,” Eddie says fondly, ruffling Chris’s curls. “The inside of the rig can be dirty, so let’s go wash our hands, yeah?”

“Okay,” Chris says easily and follows Eddie out of the way, leaving Buck alone with Bobby.

He can’t blame him for the smooth escape. Still, he is nervous when he turns to Bobby and asks: “So…”

“You have a good kid,” Bobby starts, surprising him. “I see he gets his curiosity from you.”

Buck flushes with pride as well as embarrassment. “Oh, uh- Chris isn’t mine. Well, not biologically, I- I don’t think-”

“Buck,” Bobby cuts him off. “You still have an impact on him. You’ve been raising him for quite a while already from what I understand. He gets things from you.”

“Thank you, then,” Buck says with a bashful smile, before he carefully checks: “So, you’re not mad?”

“Oh, no, I’m pissed off you’d keep something like this from all of us when Eddie started working here, but I do hope you didn’t keep this from us before that, because we made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no, that was me getting in my own head,” Buck assures him. “I knew you guys wouldn’t judge, I just didn’t know how to explain. And I am sorry, you know. For lying about it. We just wanted to work together and we thought you’d retract the offer if you knew.”

“I probably would have,” Bobby agrees. “But you two can clearly keep it professional in the field and your teamwork is truly something. If it’s not romantic, I can make a case for you two to the brass.”

Buck blushes again, twisting feeling in his gut. “Oh, no, it’s definitely nothing romantic. Just two married guys, being friends.” He wants to smack himself in the face for his reply. He’s not even lying, but he is being weird about it and Bobby is going to see right through him.

“Uh-huh,” Bobby raises a brow. Then too conversationally, he asks: “So was Eddie the girl, who was in that trap with her parents?”

At that, Buck freezes, he had all but forgotten about that. And he didn’t think Bobby would have remembered either. However, he’s totally right and now both of them know it and Buck basically confessed to wanting more with Eddie. Shit.

“You love him, don’t you?” Bobby asks. Before he can answer, he adds: “Now, don’t lie to me. I see it in the way you look at him, even before I knew all this.”

Buck panics slightly and he says: “You can’t tell him.”

“I won’t,” Bobby promises, putting a hand on his shoulder. “But remember what I said back then, I said you’re ready to have those things and, by how you’re raising Chris, you were more than ready. You stepped inside with Eddie a long time ago. You’re ready for a next step too.”

“Thank you, Bobby, but it’s not like that for Eddie. He’s my best friend, but nothing else. He’s straight, it’s not going to happen,” Buck answers.

“I wouldn’t count it out.” Bobby says cryptically, before clapping him on the back and walking off. On his way to the loft, he runs into Eddie and Chris and he asks: “You up for a grilled cheese, kid?”

“Yes, please,” Chris cheers.

“Then let’s go,” Bobby smiles the two of them going up the stairs.

Meanwhile Eddie makes his way over to Buck so he can get out of his turnouts, Buck also still dressed in his own. He must look kind of stupid, the way he stands there, because Eddie pauses and asks: “Are you okay? Did Bobby say anything?” He looks more and more nervous. “Are we fired?”

That snaps Buck out of it and he quickly says: “No, no, not fired. Bobby’s gonna make a case for us with the brass, since it’s not romantic. He is pissed though. That we lied.”

“Okay, that’s good,” Eddie nods, oblivious to Buck’s crisis as he steps out of his turnouts.

Not wanting to seem weird, Buck quickly follows his lead, until they’re walking up the stairs, shoulders knocking into each other. It’s comforting. Familiar. Buck doesn’t want to lose that. He studies Eddie, trying to see what Bobby saw, but he can’t find it. It’s just Eddie, as he’s always been.

Naturally, Eddie notices him looking, giving him two wide, confused, beautiful brown doe eyes as he asks: “Do I have something on my face or something?”

“Nah,” Buck says casually after a few moments, “just trying to imagine what you’d look like as a real-real firefighter.”

Immediately Eddie’s expression falls into something more deadpan and annoyed. “You put that idea in his head, you know, with your probie bullshit.”

“I don’t know, Eddie, seems to me like you just still have a ways to go,” Buck grins with as much little shit energy as he can.

“You’re the worst,” Eddie grins back, pushing him slightly, though immediately catching him, before he can do as much as stumble.

At this point, they’ve reached the top of the stairs and find Bobby presenting Chris with a plate of grilled cheeses with a flourish. “Here you go. What do you think?” he asks, awaiting Chris’s judgment.

Chris takes one bite, before he beams up. “It’s very tasty.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Bobby ruffles his curls. Buck imagines that this is what it would be like to have Bobby as a grandparent and the thought makes something twist inside him. By that time, Bobby has spotted Buck and Eddie and calls over: “You two also want a grilled cheese for lunch?”

“Yes, please,” Buck replies, shaking it off and skipping forwards.

Soon after, there’s a plate of grilled cheeses on the table and the four of them are sitting around it. The adults are listening to Chris about his latest school project, any interrogation of the family unit he’s a part of shelved for now.

At some point, Hen and Chimney return, joining the table. Chimney is still looking between Buck and Chris as if it’s the weirdest thing he’s ever encountered – Buck tries not to be too offended – while Hen seems more comfortable about the whole thing, though she sends glances in Eddie’s and Buck’s direction from time to time.

The grilled cheeses are being eaten when Maddie comes up the stairs, greeting everyone. Buck smiles and waves at her, before turning to Chris, steadying him as he gets out of his chair. He hands him his crutches and goes on one knee in front of him, smoothing out his clothes and pressing a kiss on his forehead as he says: “Be good for your tía Maddie now, okay, Superman?”

“I will, papi,” Chris promises.

Maddie, who’s been getting closer pauses for a moment, before her eyes snap to Eddie. Eddie pauses under her gaze. She hisses: “Evan is papi? He’s the husband?”

Well, if Chris hadn’t given it away, Maddie would have it seems. And because Eddie is an asshole, who has the ability to lie to Maddie, he puts on a faux-innocent look and says: “Yes, he is. Didn’t you know that? I thought you must have realized.”

“No, I did not,” Maddie says lowly, turning to Buck. Buck swallows, but straightens his spine defiantly anyway. Maddie asks him: “Why didn’t I know that?”

“I thought you were being homophobic,” Buck answers honestly.

“What?” Maddie sounds almost offended.

“What was I supposed to think? I got there after Eddie picked up Chris and mentioned me and you didn’t say a word. Nothing.”

“Of course that’s not what I was doing. Eddie asked me not to tell anyone. I wasn’t going to out him!”

“Oh, that makes a lot more sense, actually.”

“Thank you,” Maddie says forcefully. Then she does turn back to Eddie and goes: “What are your intentions with my baby brother?”

Eddie has just started to relax, but freezes all over. Before it can get nasty, Buck jumps in quickly. “It is not like that, Mads. Me and Eddie are friends. Married as friends. And I’ll explain everything later, I promise. But we’re on the clock. Please, just take your nephew home.”

Maddie puffs herself up, gearing up to protest before the last part of that sentence hits and she looks at Chris with big awe-like eyes. As if she has never seen him before. In a way, she hadn’t. She’s hung out with him a few times, but not as her nephew. That’s her nephew. Buck has a kid. Her baby brother is a dad and has a kid and she missed that, but now she gets to know him.

The fight leaves her and she puts on a smile. “I’d love nothing more. What do you say, we get some ice cream. It’s an aunt’s job to spoil their nephews, you know.”

“Ice cream!” Chris cheers, making his way over to her.

“Don’t fall for his pout, he’s only allowed two scoops,” Eddie calls out bravely. “Thank you so much for taking him,” he adds quickly.

“We’re getting three,” Maddie informs Chris cheerfully.

“Be wary of the sugar rush,” Buck warns her.

“We’ll be fine, now stop worrying,” Maddie calls back, having reached the top of the stairs.

They all watch the duo go down the stairs, waving and calling out goodbyes. As they go, Eddie turns to Buck and says: “She never babysat on her own before, has she?”

“Yeah, not since she was a kid with energy herself. She has no clue what she just got into with that promise,” Buck agrees.

“Oef, good luck.”

“Ah, her mistake,” Buck shrugs. “Maybe she’ll be so tired when we come to pick up Chris that she won’t have the energy to be mad.”

“God, I hope so.”

“Well, you two shouldn’t be worrying about her right now,” Hen suddenly speaks up behind them. “We want answers. Now.”

With matching apprehensive looks, they turn around to face everyone. Buck feebly says: “I think we’ve gotten most of the basic information out there.”

“Not good enough,” Hen says. “Come, sit, and spill.”

“I’m not a dog,” Buck pouts as he goes to do what he’s told.

“You could’ve fooled me,” Chimney grins patting his back.

“Oh fuck off.”

Eddie comes to sit next to him, crossing his arms defensively. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” Chimney snorts. “Come on, you can’t just drop being married with a kid – even as friends – for god knows how long on us, not to mention lying about even knowing each other, and expect us to just shrug it off.”

“Well, there isn’t much more to add,” Eddie says defensively. “We got married as friends, so Buck could adopt Chris and take care of him while I was in Afghanistan after Shannon left. He already helped before that. It was the most logical thing to do at the time.”

“There wasn’t anyone else?” Hen asks, now mostly directed at Buck. The underlying, ‘you had to take care of Chris by yourself?’ heard by everyone.

“Uh,” Buck sends a look at Eddie, but Eddie isn’t looking his way. “Eddie’s parents helped too, you know, but you don’t want to drop your kid on your parents,” he settles on in the end. It’s as neutral as he can make it.

Hen seems to accept this answer, which is enough for Chimney to jump in on it. “How did you even get involved anyway, Buck? Chris said you were taking care of the chickens? How do you get from chickens to father?”

Buck blushes slightly and explains: “I worked as a farm hand on a chicken farm. Chris’s mom used to buy eggs there, took Chris with her from time to time. I babysat in a pinch, then did it more regularly, also after Eddie came back. She left Chris with me, before getting on a plane to never look back. Eddie still had work that night, so I offered to watch Chris and, uh-” he rubs the back of his head “-I kind of never left.”

It’s quiet for a moment as everyone processes, then Eddie cuffs him on the back of the head. “That’s not how it went and you know it.”

“What?” Buck asks confused, because last he checked, that’s exactly how it went.

“You didn’t watch him for one night and never left, you chose to stay and help a stranger who was struggling, even though you didn’t have to. Because, Evan, that’s who you are,” Eddie says forcefully, making sure Buck hears it.

“Oh.” Buck doesn’t really know how to respond to that, tears prickling despite himself. “I guess, I never thought about it like that.”

“Of course you hadn’t,” Eddie sighs, but it’s a fond one.

Everyone is looking between the two, various expressions on their faces, but all scrutinizing. It makes Buck blush. Especially when Hen feels the need to check: “And it’s strictly a platonic thing?”

“Yes,” Eddie replies forcefully, which doesn’t make Buck sad at all, no, sir. “We’re gonna get divorced at some point, have a prenup and everything. The plan was when I got back from Afghanistan, but then I got hurt.”

“So why haven’t you yet?” Chimney asks curiously. “I mean, since you’re obviously better now.”

Eddie looks a bit like a deer in headlights and Buck clenches all his muscles and tries to disappear into the background. If he starts trying to answer that, a whole bunch of things he’d prefer to stay hidden will come spilling out.

“Why would we?” Eddie counters after a few beats to think, a blush coloring his cheeks anyway.

“Huh?” Chimney replies dumbly.

“I mean, think about it. We’ll divorce just for the sake of divorcing, then we’d have to come up with a parental plan for Chris, uproot him again, because one person alone can’t afford that mortgage, plus we’d loose are tax benefits, which means we can’t save up for college for Chris,” Eddie lists. “Unless one of us wants to marry someone else, why go through the hassle? It’s not like either of us are planning to leave anytime soon.”

Despite how utterly practical it is, Buck can’t help but smile widely, stomach unclenching as butterflies flutter in it instead. Eddie truly isn’t planning on leaving. Eddie still wants him around, still needs him around. He nods: “Yeah, what he said.”

Hen looks between the two then nods to herself as she mutters: “Ah, so that’s how you’ve justified it to yourself?”

“What was that, Henrietta?” Eddie snaps, without even fearing for his life.

“Don’t call me Henrietta,” Hen scowls back, dropping what she just said. Buck is grateful for it, he doesn’t need anyone pushing at Eddie and making him feel weird about staying.

Bobby thankfully steps in for them. “Alright, alright. It’s quite the story, but we’re not here to interrogate either of you.” To the others he sharply says, “I mean that. I’ll bring up the situation with the brass and we’ll see from there what will happen.”

“But, Cap,” Chimney starts to whine, but he’s cut off by the alarm that starts blaring. They all look up for a second, then Chimney quickly stuffs a grilled cheese in his mouth. Still chewing, he says: “This isn’t over.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Eddie mutters as he and Buck get up in sync.

Together they hurry down the pole and to their gear. They’ll have a lot more questions to answer later, not to mention appearing in front of the brass. However, all in all, bringing Chris to the firehouse could have gone much worse.

~~

A/N:

I know I cut the whole explaining themselves thing short, but it’s mostly a repeat after a while and I did put a chunk in there.

[yuseirra]

It's kind of.. really cruel of the author to never include Kamiki in any of the colored drawings. They never developed him well enough while having him destroyed, he DID swallow up so many of the remaining chapters due to Aqua basically devoting his life and giving up on everything he built up in the entire story to killing him, but it's not like we actually know so much of this guy either. I've studied him A LOT but from your average reader's perspective he's like someone just little more than some rando, Ai's ex who's a psychopath showing up and the protag just dying with him. The thing is!! That "psychopath" laid out all the reasons why Aqua's life is precious and worth living and suggested he go back to live. This is what gets me so much. So was this the only way?? I'm coming up with my own analogies to make it have a sense- but it's the work that has to make things convincing. The readers should not do this work. The work should provide proper answers.

Ofc he could be horrible(I'm not convinced btw)but wow, even the Himekawas have Taiki visiting their grave in the final chapter with flowers when what they did is horrifying. THE WOMAN MOLESTED A LITTLE KID. STARTING FROM AGE 10-11. I really can't forgive how they just..; How can they be so irresponsible on handling such a subject? They just make a couple statements.. oh by the way I'm GLAD Taiki never had a confrontation with Kamiki. I saw how his characters of his name was written and do you know?? His name comes from how Kamiki's characters are written in kanji and I found that super cruel and creepy of Airi. That woman is a character but she's insane. I never felt Kamiki would have to confront the boy one bit. No, they never have to interact at all. What happened regarding them's still horrifying. I just saw a new drawing of the hoshino family but like, he's always nonexistent. Maybe he doesn't deserve it, but he's completely excluded in that whole family dynamic when it is stated that Ai wanted to raise her kids with him. I feel really bitter because what's the point?? of all this??

I had a chat with my friend who isn't really into the series much, and she had an interesting idea.

she says since the story is SO incomplete, and the author announced they're going to write a new series- she thinks that they may be trying to create a narrative where multiple narratives can somehow converge into a part of a huge universe or something. They'll explain all the weird things through it. Wasn't Kaguya-sama and Onk set in the same world? She says. There may be some beings that are chosen by the gods or hold some specialties in them but it's never really been explained how they've come to be or what conditions they get chosen, maybe they're going to continue writing several stories and explain it through another. "They never showed the dad being really dead, didn't they? We basically know so little about him? He might come back in another story." (I went, "BUT JUST WHAT WOULD HE DO?? AI'S STILL DEAD.." oh but in that case, he might actually look ENTIRELY different because he's an actor huh. and since there's "Misogi", he might be really purified by the saltwater. He might return to being a benevolent god now. Again, what was Aqua's life then but actually;; maybe Kamiki IS still alive. We really didn't see his body or know what the heck actually happened to him.)

I have no idea... but so much is just left unexplained.., so maybe she has a point. This work is simply incomplete. We really don't know what's been happening behind the scenes or why the twins were reincarnated, what were their missions and all, everything's left on a vague note. I do feel like they're going to have Ruby appear as a cameo in the author's next work as a famous idol on TV or something like that. Perhaps this piece may be a "stepping stone" for another story to develop on the same thing. While I was sitting there, listening to her theories of it, I couldn't help but feel really annoyed at the author. Even if they have some bigger picture or whatnot(if they somehow deem this piece a complete piece of work, that's even more concerning because anyone can tell it's extremely hollow and sloppy) this isn't respectful toward their readers who came in looking for a resolution.

I did manage to come up with an explanation for this piece that I'm pretty sure of, but they didn't do the work they were supposed to do. If they want to make some other piece of work and develop that first, then it's better to leave one on hiatus and create pieces that are "complete". Stories are a product, we don't come here to look at single puzzle pieces, we want the whole picture. The time, energy, and passion spent on reading a piece shouldn't feel like a waste. If the piece can't explain what's going on on its own, it's cannot be defined as a standalone. On that regard, onk isn't a standalone because nobody can figure out what's been going on about the ending of the piece by just seeing what the series has to offer, we have to make guesses that aren't properly laid out. It's like you order a pizza and you only got the dough. No matter how great the dough is, you'd STILL want a pizza because that's what you're there for. That's what the authors did for this piece, regarding the plot, and for all the characters of the series, the only character I think somewhat survived is Ai because her story had some sort of a wrap-up. She's the only one that feels complete in a sense, so this series..in the end, heavily relied on this one character who died in the first volume. She was really iconic.

Hopefully I don't have much more to be disappointed about-

oh, about Ruby in the last chapter. They had to let her speak for herself, she doesn't feel alive. Ruby can express the feelings she has. She has a mouth for herself. Why are they letting Akane speak on her behalf when she's not even the one that has a strong bond with her? Even if she is, wasn't Ruby supposed to be some sort of double protagonist? Or an important character at least? Or it could have been the author's intent(I'm strongly sensing that this is what they were going for, they want us to be a bystander the way we watch idols on tv and look up to them without knowing how they are as a human being), in that case, this whole piece leaves such a bad taste. So NOTHING's improved from Ai's case, it even got worse, the only thing that separates Ai's situation and keeps Ruby's career being endangered is that Ruby doesn't have a boyfriend and she doesn't have twins to care for. So what's the message huh?? Don't make any of those or even if you end up doing it, lie!! Is that it?

This piece is so disrespectful then. That's unsettling.

Those pages used in the final chapter should have been entirely devoted to Ruby speaking for herself if they even care for her as someone who has a heart of a person...but I don't think it's the message they want to show, the authors must want to make a point about the nature of idols having to keep up sturdy personas and keep shining at all times, but THAT'S already been discussed FAR better with Ai's case. It's even a step turned backward, so Onk wasn't really about growth.. Ruby's lost HER character. Not every work has to be about growth but having this happen after 17 volumes of story that seemed to suggest otherwise is not just baffling, it's not consistent writing and I wouldn't be this harsh(I'm not even being harsh right here. I'm being so generous with everything I'm typing)if it were to be written out in depth.

Borrowing my friend's commentary on it: This work don't discuss any of the issues they are presenting as insightful as it should, they just toss things out there and acknowledge they exist... but the characters make a few comments about that particular topic, make awkward laughs and then brush it off after having made you thought it's going to be handled. I think... acknowledging things have some meaning to it, at least it lets you realize it exist (for example, I started paying more attention to child abuse after having seen Ai and Kamiki's stories) but if you're going to bring it up, don't you have to handle it well? It's not the worst but I'd say it's SO FAR from what it can be as well. That is, also what I've found pretty annoying about this work. So nothing has been covered as well as it could have been. The plot, the characters, the subject it handles, they're all left hanging there. This piece is incomplete. And if you hand in an incomplete product, it isn't even graded. It gets sent back and is required to be completed and polished again till it is, or your contract is terminated. That's the situation with this piece. I wonder what the anime team would do with the third season but the authors had to hand in a piece they could work with. They shouldn't do this to them. I'm not saying the piece is entirely bad, it's just not a finished product. And that's not fair to all the people who wished for one.

[kagecreep]

Midnight Burns (VxMC)

(KillerChat)

Description: You have trouble sleeping. V calls you at midnight, and a few little secrets slip out from both your lips.

Two requests mixed together: V who's weak for compliments & a MC who loves V's voice.

Notes: this takes place b4 you meet irl (: i gave you a lil username just for funsies and to make it a little easier to read WC: 3.2k

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Despite all your best efforts, the dawn had forgotten your name. Your sleep began early in the morning, before sunrise, and slept a scant 4 hours. Fortunately, being in an online server with people around the world, there was always someone to keep you company. Unfortunately that server happened to be filled with murderers; for better or worse, they were more welcoming than anyone else you knew, and you were assured that turning to them would bring nothing but comfort.

Tonight, however, no one was online. You scrolled up and down the different chats mindlessly, your head leaning heavily into your palm. You could write, but opening the blank page was more of a taunt than a call to productivity. Nothing was on your mind. You needed more inspiration from your latest muse before continuing with your next part of the story. To your disappointment, V was not online.

With a sigh, you left your computer on your desk, and left downstairs to fetch something to eat. You returned to your room quickly with an old bowl of pasta in hand, crawling back into your chair. 

You squinted at the bright screen, scrolling through the server channels and members one last time before vowing to work on your book. Upon seeing a notification, however, your vow was promptly tossed out the window, and you clicked into your chat with K9.

<K9> [23:00] Good evening. I know it is late, however I was hoping you could spare some time to answer a few of my questions.

You blinked several times, fingers hovering over the keyboard before you typed in your response.

<scaredevil> [23:12] yeah, i'm not doing anything. whats up? you want to call? <K9> [23:12] That would be preferrable.  Thank you for indulging me. 

Not a second later and he was calling you. You quickly brushed your hair with your fingers and accepted, sitting up a little straighter in your chair.

"Midnight calls, hm?" You said before he could speak. "Some of the other server members might think we're up to something."

"None of the other server members are able to see our private calls," he said flatly.

"Goreboy is,"  you said.

He grunted––obviously dissatisfied with that truth.

"You raise a good point. Perhaps I shall set up our own private server––remove goreboy from the equation altogether," he said, knitting his fingers together beneath his chin.

"A server just for us? Sounds intimate," you said, grinning as you leaned in.

A soft, dark blush crept onto his face.

"Nonsense. It's simply a matter of privacy. Do you not resent the idea of being monitored, as I do?"

"I do... but not really enough to do anything about it. I don't know much about coding, anyway," you said, leaning on your palm. "Besides, we live in a surveillance state."

"All the more reason to protect yourself," he said, his eyes narrowing. "You must be skilled at disposing of bodies to be so careless in hiding your identity."

You shrugged. You had tried many times to tell him, both in humorous and serious tones, that you were not a serial killer. He never listened, insistent that his gut instinct was never wrong. Some part of you found it amusing, but at least his vehement search for you allowed you to spend some time with him, even if it was filled with both vague and direct threats on your life.

"Before we start with questions... how are you feeling tonight?" He asked.

"Tired," you said, tapping your fingers against your cheek.

"Have you not been sleeping well?"

"Not really."

He nodded softly.

"I understand. I, too, have many a night where sleep evades my grasp. Can you do anything about it? Do you have medicines?" He asked in a softer tone, leaning in.

"Yeah, but they don't tend to work." You glanced up at him. "Why do you care?"

He stuttered for a moment, hands falling out of sight of the camera.

"It is... important to lead a balanced life. That way I will be the one to take you down––not some useless meandering cop or your own poorly-managed lifestyle," he said.

"Sounds... intimate," you said with a lazy smile.

He hesitated, lips parted and eyes darting to the side and back to you as he contemplated your words and his own response. 

"I... hesitate to admit this, but my vendetta is... personal, when it comes to you. I cannot figure you out. I suppose nothing is more alluring than a mystery," he said, once more folding his fingers together beneath his chin and leaning in.

"I've told you before," you chuckled, "I'm no mystery. I'm a writer."

"Yes, so you've said, and with all due respect, I do not believe it. Now if you don't mind, I would like you to answer my questions," he said.

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

"My first question. What is your favourite time of day?"

A grip creeped across your lips, devolving into giggles.

"Your questions have such a sweet facade," you said, shaking your head. "How is knowing my favourite time of day going to help you catch me?"

"Answer the question, please," he said, sighing roughly.

"Fine." You paused, biting back your smile. "I love the dawn."

"The dawn?" He repeated, eyes widening. "Interesting. You are not often online during those hours."

"I'm usually asleep then."

"Then... how is it your favourite time of day?"

"Oh, you know," you said, grunting as you stretched back in your chair, "it's a beautiful time. Renewal, quiet, and peace. My body just... doesn't... well, to be honest, I usually end up falling asleep just before dawn. Dawn hath abandoned me, and visits me no longer."

"I see."

You weren't sure if he believed you or not. You supposed it didn't matter. Before he could ask his next question, you spoke first.

"What's your favourite time of day?" You asked.

Again his eyes widened imperceptibly, taken aback by the reciprocation.

"I do not see how that is important," he said.

"You know my favourite, why can't I know yours? I already told you I'm no good at hacking, or finding people. I'm just curious," you said, shrugging.

"For all I know, that could have been a lie. But... I suppose it is only fair. I prefer the night. The vermin come out of the filth and reveal their nature, and I await them in the dark," he said, his eyes narrowing. 

He glanced up from the intensity of his thoughts and found you beaming across the screen. He raised a single brow.

"What are you smiling about?" He asked roughly.

"Nothing, I just..."

What were you smiling about? You thought for a moment. It could be any number of things, really––his voice, his manner of speaking, the intensity of his conviction. Each of these things melted you a little bit, and the fluffy covers of your bed suddenly didn't seem so unfriendly.

"... I like the way you talk. Your words. Your voice. It's very... pretty," you murmured.

He froze, his face quickly turning a deep shade of red.

"Y -" he choked on his own breath. "R... really?"

"Yeah," you sighed. "It's a shame you use it to threaten me."

He blinked several times, glancing to the side.

"W - well... I suppose... I could hold off on my search, for tonight," he said, his eyes returning to you. "If that would please you."

You smiled. The juxtaposition of him attempting to please you and promising to kill you at the same time––it tingled inside you. A wonderfully chaotic rush.

"I don't think you'd lose much by taking a break for now," you chuckled softly.

He wouldn't lose anything because he had nothing to gain. You hid nothing. Except your name, of course.

"Then... what would you like to talk about?" He asked hesitantly.

"Mmm... I don't know," you hummed, staring in a somewhat dreamy trance at your screen. "I just like spending time with you."

You weren't sure how much more of this V could take. You could practically feel the heat of his blush through the computer, and you drank in each micro-expression––the widening eyes, twitching lips, fidgeting fingers––with absurd delight.

"You... are incredibly odd," he finally stuttered out, unable to meet your eye, even through the camera.

"Is it odd to find you endearing and beautiful?"

Now you had gone too far. He hadn't even replied and you were melting with embarrassment just watching him react to your words, as though it flowed off him in such excess that it somehow reached you.

"I - it is, um, quite odd," he eventually said, staring at his keyboard.

Despite going too far, you couldn't help yourself, and dug your trench even deeper.

"Sorry," you said. "I can't help it. Even if you are planning to kill me, I can't deny... nor should I, really, that you're very handsome. And I enjoy your company. I might even tell you my address so you can be the last thing I see before I die."

He slammed his fingers against the keyboard, and with a panicked expression, hung up.

You stared at your chat for a whole minute, eyes wide from his sudden reaction. Slowly you leaned forward and began to type.

<scaredevil> [23:21] did i do something wrong?

It took him several more minutes to reply, and he took a long while to type out his message.

<K9> [23:27] No.  I apologize for ending our call so abruptly. I was... suddenly busy. <scaredevil> [23:27] you're not a very good liar, you know <K9> [23:27] ... I suppose there's no avoiding it then.  As much as I am disinclined to admit it, I was very flattered by your comments. A little too flattered.

You stared at the screen. What did he mean?

<scaredevil> [23:28] were you like..... taking a cold shower....? <K9> [23:29] I was not. I spent my time away tending to one of my rabbits. As a bonus, the activity aided in calming me. I have no affinity for cold showers anyway.

You debated your next message for a moment, heart racing as you sent it.

<scaredevil> [23:29] can we call again? <K9> [23:29] I do not believe that is a good idea.

Your heart deflated in your chest.

<scaredevil> [23:30] why not? :( <K9> [23:30] I am worried you will return to your previous barrage of compliments. ... It is not a good idea. <scaredevil> [23:30] please v? i love hearing your voice

Nothing. The marker to show his typing didn't even appear.

<scaredevil> [23:31] im sorry for pushing you i really am i didn't mean to offend you i just wanted to express a little how i felt fuck i'll stop

You curled up in your desk chair, legs to your chest, and hid your face in your knees. How embarrassing. A deep, cold, and breaking sensation crackled through your ribs.

The computer dinged, and your head shot up.

<K9> [23:38] You did not offend me. I am simply... unaccustomed to people thinking of me in such a way. It has not ever occurred before.

You quickly began to type a response.

<scaredevil> [23:38] never? thats hard to believe <K9> [23:38] Is it? I am not the most sociable of creatures. Nor am I approachable. Most would consider me imposing, or even menacing. I am not sure I have ever been called handsome, much less... beautiful. <scaredevil> [23:38] is it weird that i feel kinda accomplished to be your first? i have a little award no one else will ever have <K9> [23:38] Not the most fantastic of accomplishments, but I will not deny you your feelings on the matter. <scaredevil> [23:38] thanks :) not to freak you out again but you're sweet <K9> [23:39] Another compliment. ... Thank you.

You drummed the edge of your keyboard with your fingertips, biting at your lip. Exhaustion freely visited you but rarely came with the comfort of sleep; V's voice, the deep, dulcet tones, was a ready substitute. When he kept his words soft and yielding, you could even hear sleep knocking at your distant door. It was a lot to ask, especially after freaking him out so much, but the desperation within you was clawing. Regret would make you bleed if you didn't at least ask.

<scaredevil> [23:41] i know this is a little odd you don't have to say yes, but well to be honest, your voice has a calming effect on me. i was hoping maybe you could help me fall asleep... please. <K9> [23:42] ... Your request is strange, but... acceptable. I will aid you. <scaredevil> [23:42] that's very kind of you <K9> [23:42] Kindness is a trait I strive to exemplify in my life. But thank you. You are the first person in the server to take note of it.

A moment later and he was requesting to call you. You hurried over to bed, carrying your laptop over, and jumped beneath the covers before answering. There was barely enough time to settle your head into your pillow before the call loaded.

He let out some quiet grunting noise upon seeing you, raising his brow.

"You are... already in bed," he said slowly.

Oh, that deep, amber voice, you thought to yourself dreamily. You decided not to inform him of your delight in hearing him.

"Of course I am," you said, hiding half your face behind your blankets. "I'm not going to sleep at my desk.

"I would think not. I was... just not expecting you to already be... in bed."

You giggled, shying further into your covers.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked softly.

You nodded.

"Good," he said in a somewhat stiff tone, giving a curt nod. "If it's... not too much to ask, I would like to see your face. Consider it a favour in return for helping you to fall asleep."

It was a fair request, though you felt some embarrassment at the idea of him being able to fully see you as you drifted off to sleep. Still, with a creeping blush you lowered your blanket, revealing your face squished into your pillow. A subtle but surely there smile warmed V's expression.

"Ah, there you are," he said, leaning in, his hands lax beneath his chin. "If we are being honest tonight, I will admit you are quite beautiful, as well. A light in the dim wake of reality."

You chuckled, attempting poorly to hide your blushing face in your pillow. But your eyes remained on your screen, entranced with him.

"Charming words," you said.

"And yet speaking nothing but the truth. Now please, tell me––how can I be of service to you?"

It was your turn now to flush, to be filled with a warmth that urged you to run far away just to compose yourself. A hundred different things whirled through your head; would he really do anything for you if you simply asked with a sweet 'please' at the end? Surely not. Logically there was some limit. But your imagination knew no such word.

"You can talk about anything," you said, wishing you could hide your face again. "You can even read me a story if you fancy it."

"Anything?" He asked, raising his brow. "Are you sure?"

"Of course."

He thought for a moment, then suddenly stood, disappearing out of the camera's sight for a couple minutes. You thought to call out but decided against it, and patiently waited for him to return. 

He reappeared with a book in hand, opening it on the desk in front of him. It was a small book––barely the size of his hand––and coloured in pale earthy tones, though the title remained obscured from your vision.

"This is a collection of Persian poetry," he said, smoothing out the pages. "I... sometimes read it when I am in need of relaxation. Though at times the prose can be... quite stimulating to the intellect. I hope that, as I do, you will find it calming."

Poetry at midnight. Poetry with V, at midnight, in your bed, as he would slowly watch you sleep. 

There were worse ways to die.

With your heart pounding as intensely as it was, sleep was the furthest thing from your mind and desires––but you had asked for his help, and he had so kindly acquiesced, so you did your best to settle into the covers and slow your racing heart.

He turned a few pages, and you watched with fluttering eyes.

"Ah. Here is a poet I much admire. A mystic Sufi from the 8th century... a woman. Rabia al Basri. Let us begin."

He spoke slowly, with emphasis, with quiet adoration for the artwork of words––the intertwining taste of writer and experience, combined into a painting of poetry.

I have loved Thee with two loves - a selfish love and a love that is worthy of Thee. As for the love which is selfish, Therein I occupy myself with Thee, to the exclusion of all others. But in the love which is worthy of Thee, Thou dost raise the veil that I may see Thee. Yet is the praise not mine in this or that, But the praise is to Thee in both that and this.

"Here is another one, by Rumi. Another mystic from the 13th century," he said.

The Friend comes into my body looking for the center, unable to find it, draws a blade, strikes anywhere.

There is a light seed grain inside. You fill it with yourself, or it dies.

I am caught in this curling energy, your hair! Whoever is calm and sensible is insane.

Do you think I know what I am doing? That for one breath or half-breath I belong to myself? As much as a pen knows what it is writing, or the ball can guess where it is going next.

We have a huge barrel of wine, but no cups. That is fine with us. Every morning, we glow and in the evening we glow again.

They say there is no future for us. They are right. Which is fine with us.

Slowly you drifted away, eyes drifting shut, mind drifting off, as sleep melted into your skin like a warm rose oil. The depth of his voice, the luxuriant taste, imbued itself into your dreams. He spoke only a few more poems before you were gone, your eyes firmly closed and lips softly parted.

He closed the book quietly and set it aside. For a few minutes unbeknownst to your consciousness he watched you, eyes darting across your features as sparks of his own wandering mind came about. He wondered, though he didn't mean to, what your skin would feel like beneath his fingers. How warm your body would be beneath a shared blanket. The thought was inappropriate, and he quickly dismissed it.

He did, however, allow himself one last indulgence.

You were not his love. You had done nothing of the sort to indicate comfort in being referred to as such. But given your kindness––your gentle amiability––he was assured you were much beloved of someone.

"Good night, beloved," he murmured, lingering for a moment more, before ending the call.

Your computer quietly turned itself off.

[sonkitty]

The Food Curse Part 2

On my Food Curse post, a couple of people referenced or sort of asked about the book.

My post was indeed focused on the show since I even said "season 1 and season 2".

But I had the time, energy, and curiosity, so I re-read the book again since I vaguely remember reading some posts discussing the matter when I was first reading a lot of Good Omens posts roughly a year ago.

Due to what I found when thinking about both the book and the show, I'll now designate the matter as a theory instead of just a head canon, for me.

This theory we're covering here isn't especially strong though. It's just strong enough by my own terms to be a theory due to how I play the games in the story.

You can still fit this food curse as a head canon into a reading of the book if you want. You just have to read between the lines. Or, you know, use basic willpower. But this post is about reading between the lines and "looking where the furniture isn't."

I'm about to play below, so as a reminder, I make mistakes and miss things, but here is where my play is for the moment.

...

The book has no ox rib scene from the Job minisode.

However, it does have this line stated by Aziraphale:

"Don’t you try to tempt me," said Aziraphale wretchedly. "I know you, you old serpent."

The implication here is that Aziraphale has been tempted by Crowley, and he knows what it feels like. We know among the things Aziraphale enjoys on Earth is eating. Crowley knows that too. He very well could have tempted Aziraphale into eating food, and Aziraphale is referencing that experience here.

...

In the book, when Crowley's starting to sense something is amiss with Warlock not having his powers, the story informs us this small thing happened in that talk with Aziraphale:

Aziraphale helped himself to Crowley’s slice of angel cake. "Well, he’s a growing boy. And, of course, there’s been the heavenly influence in his life."

Now this act is understandably, probably taken by most readers to mean that Crowley eats, or can eat if he wanted to.

But we're looking for a food curse and reading between the lines to find it. Do you see what that text doesn't say?

It doesn't say "half-eaten" angel cake. It doesn't say Crowley had taken a bite or two already. It doesn't say Crowley was remotely bothered that Aziraphale took his cake that he was still eating or going to eat eventually. It doesn't say he was so caught up in what he was thinking that he didn't notice Aziraphale took his cake. It doesn't say he meant for the cake to be for Aziraphale anyway.

If you add in the idea of the food curse and that Crowley tempted Aziraphale to eat and feeds off such a thing, then here's what just happened:

Aziraphale helped himself to Crowley's angel cake, so that Crowley could eat his damn angel cake.

...

You have to include the "damn" because that's the joke.

...

Later on, the story is setting the stage for what Crowley's flat is like before the other demons will invade it.

Crowley has a refrigerator filled with gourmet food "that never goes off." In the same general area in which this information is given, the narration is also alerting the reader that Crowley's flat does not look lived in because he doesn't actually live there. It's just some place he goes back to at the end of the day when he's in London.

Later in the story, the place he is implied to spend a good deal of time in, instead, is Aziraphale's bookshop.

Back to Crowley's own flat, we are not informed that Crowley himself actually eats this food that is in the refrigerator. We are informed Crowley didn't even know it was supposed to be plugged in, but that didn't matter. It worked anyway. We are further informed that Crowley has a computer that he upgrades because he thinks what the type of human he pretends to be would have. Take that idea and apply it to the food. He just assumes that's part of the job in pretending to be human, and his fridge with its long-lasting gourmet food isn't going to argue with him over it.

...

An eating temptation is outright given near the end of the book, much like season 1 of the show:

Crowley nodded gloomily. "Let me tempt you to some lunch," he hissed.

This time, we are told Crowley even went so far as to hiss, something he tends to do when he forgets himself, according to the book. Having a hiss with a temptation is a good reminder to the reader that he is the Serpent of Eden who was cursed to eat dust.

So, if Crowley eats indirectly from having tempted Aziraphale with food in the past, that still fits with the food curse idea.

The show adding the clues it did allows book readers to more easily fill in that gap, if they want.

The season 2 plate of Eccles cakes that disappeared is the only hint that this food curse might be important. Otherwise, it's just some extra thing you can find to give an extra layer, flair, atmosphere, whatever, to your own reading of the story.

...

Both seasons of the show give hints that Crowley can block out this feeding by folding his arms or crossing his legs.

In season 1, episode 2, at the cafe, Crowley has his arms folded and doesn't look to be feeding off Aziraphale eating as he did in episode 1 at the Ritz.

In season 2, Crowley looks very, very pleased as he feeds off Aziraphale eating food for the first time. Later on, he is reclined with his legs crossed and seems to no longer be feeding off Aziraphale even though Aziraphale is still eating. To see the legs crossed, you do have to make assumptions based on his position and the lighting. Crowley has had his fill of the food and is enjoying his drink.

...

Here is where my method of play could not help itself into letting this thing become a theory.

For that last visit to the Ritz in the book and season 1, there is extremely similar wording, even if not exact wording in the narration.

Here is the book:

And perhaps the recent exertions had had some fallout in the nature of reality because, while they were eating, for the first time ever, a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.

Here is season 1 of the show:

Perhaps the recent exertions had had some fallout in the nature of reality, because while they were eating for the first time ever, a nightingale actually did sing in Berkeley Square.

In the show, once you look for this potential food curse, there is something notably different in how the scene is setup for this lunch.

Both of the characters have a plate with a napkin on it and no food. From the two earlier instances in the season, Aziraphale had a plate with food. Crowley had a cup with a drink and no plate for food at all.

We are also now meeting a Rule of Three. We have table meal #3 for Crowley and Aziraphale in season 1 of the show.

The show has taken some extra effort to demonstrate that even though God says, "eating," that neither supernatural being is actively eating food at this moment. They are, however, enjoying themselves and the atmosphere of being in the world.

So, let's consider the possibilities.

One possibility is that the "eating" being referred to is actually the eating of the atmosphere. That's why Aziraphale has no food on his own plate.

Another possibility is that Aziraphale is going to eat so much, Crowley has a plate. That's why there is so much food on the table.

Another possibility is that Crowley does have certain food preferences, and so he will be eating indirectly through how Aziraphale eats, but he is indeed going to indulge in what those preferences are. He usually doesn't and is content to just go with whatever Aziraphale eats, if he himself isn't already blocking it out.

Another possibility is that this moment is so incredibly special, Crowley will get to eat after all, just this once. The curse is briefly lifted thanks to those exertions on the fallout of reality with a singing nightingale. That's why he's given such an exceptional place-setting compared to everything you will ever see with this demon in both season 1 and season 2.

Now it's starting to look like a puzzle.

We take in the clues about the crossed limbs to block out the feeding and then notice that Crowley's legs are crossed in S1E6.

Due to how Crowley plays Earthly Objects in season 2, I know he is rather deliberate in his choices on his touches.

If the crossed limbs really do mean he's going to block out any feeding off Aziraphale, that means he is blocking out any feeding off of Aziraphale during this lunch. But Crowley himself still has a plate. Thus, he will indeed be eating food for this special occasion.

We're still not allowed to see it to be sure.

[oh-no-its-bird]

!!! omg additions I am falling over myself @ you rn actually

I think they first find out ab the massacre from Sasuke, and its like a huge shock but they dont have a reason to not believe his story about Itachi being the perpetrator-- especially because no one has actually mentioned Itachi's age, so to them he's painted as just this mystery monster figure

There are a lot of monster's in early konoha, Hashirama and Madara are some well known ones, and it's not too much of a stretch for them to believe that one strong enough to wipe out his entire clan might exist

(Later on they meet Itachi and the Nara, Shiruka, is squinting in the bg counting on her fingers before squinting even harder and muttering, "13...??" From there, suspicions start to bloom)

Actually I think their outsider POV on Itachi is so fun-- they do not know the guy and Sasuke is totally building up the mythos so hard rn, even just by silently hating him so furiously.

The early konoha babs are speculating so hard ab what he must be like, they finally find a bingo book and all crowd around it to squint at the man who wiped out the Uchiha and are a little shocked that he's so young

they come from an era where clan is everything, even more so than it is now, so Itachi really did do the ultimate evil in their eyes. They are disgusted !!

(and when they inevitably find out the truth, oh man)

I think overall they're kind of terrified/disgusted by the fate of the clans. They're ofc heavily biased due to, again, clans being everything in their time. They've only been in Konoha for like, 3 or 4 years now, so they're kind of being confronted with both the pros and cons of the village in an era where they've clearly prospered-- but at a steep price.

Mmmm discussions ab if its worth it,, snaps of "Easy for you to say, your clan still exists!" time spent traveling between villages marveling about how easier it is, when the land isn't divided into factions,, overall admiration for the many little ways the villages have clearly benefited overall society while still acknowledging the heavy toll and power they now hold over their own "normal" ways of life,,,,

KAKASHI BEING SENT ON THE WORST RETRIEVAL MISSION OF HIS LIFE MY BELOVED, HE WANTS TO GO HOME AND SLEEP FOR A YEAR

This entire month is officially in the rankings for some of the worst months of his life. Not the worst. Never the worst. That can't be beat. But man, it somehow just keeps getting worse.

He's going insane actually bc where did these people come from? How does he have any clan left? He knows nothing of the Hatake, his dad died before he could be taught anything substantial about his clan, so this is a lot for him on multiple levels.

I think we deserve a scene where he catches up to him and he and the Hatake fight, but like half playful and while talking ab clan things the entire time.

It's weirdly friendly, and the twins keep trying to guess who his parents were and if they know them. Kakashi finally drops it was Sakumo and they go a little insane bc omg !!! That must make you our future clan head that's soooo cool!! (Sakumo was the son of the previous clan head, but the clan died when he was too little to receive the title of heir and he never took up the mantle-- he possibly never even knew he was meant to)

Kakashi did NOT know this information and will need a few days to process. Thanks.

Kakashi really is like catnip to the time travelers actually, they are harassing Sasuke for information about him as Sasuke goes ??? why do you want to know ab HIM???

I think Kakashi gets sent to try and capture them with a team but they should totally get to like. Capture him instead, somehow. His orders were vague enough that he can go "well. I mean. contact established successfully, so...?" and allow this to happen (before eventually escaping)

OROCHIMARU ACCIDENTALLY TRICKING HIMSELF INTO CARING IS MY FAVORITE THING EVER!!!

I think they'd have a very hard time of doing this especially since he's near the height of his insanity here, but I mean, if nothing else they really do have the ultimate distraction-- a long lost cousin with ties and extensive stories of Orochimaru's own long dead clan, and also literal time travel, which I'm sure Orochimaru will be all over

Orochimaru treating them like cows before a slaughter is so good actually, thats a perfect way to allow him to care somewhat while still having his own goals, love that!

I need Orochimaru hating bugs comedy just bc Orochinatsu really really likes them, and will often spend hours watching them. They're both making a face and quietly going maybe we arent related after all...? While also looking near identical

Jealous Kabuto is so funny, I love that idea. HES Orochimaru's special little guy, where tf did this long lost cousin of his come from?? I think he should get to have a positive interaction with Orochinatsu and, bc he looks similar to Orochimaru, have an instinctive positive reaction to him before getting really mad ab it bc his brain keeps sending mixed signals of Orochimaru is being nice to you! Wait, no, fuck, it's the other guy >:(

I think the Hatake twins would be a big fan of Suigetsu and Jugo actually, they are chaotic and like to fight and I wish to see ✨friendship✨

Haru, who is genuinely kind of mean and also a fan of violence, thinks Suigetsu should get to have murder, as a treat

Hiro, who is the one who got them into this mess by tampering with the time travel seal, finds Jugo super interesting and may or may not poke him with a stick at first to see what happens and if he goes crazy. Umm something something wolf clan something something animals liking Jugo something something idk is there anything there? That could be kinda funny

If all the time travelers are getting to bond with a member of team Taka then I think Shiruka and Karin should get to interact too. Shiruka is not a mednin and knows only basic first aid but she doesn't need to know any of that to be impressed with the advancements of the future, and I think Karin would appreciate having a captive audience interested in what she has to say

THEM PICKING UP NARUTO IS ALSO FUNNY BC LIKE. They. Do not know what a jinchuriki is. Chakra beasts are legends to them, but also they live in an era where yokai are widely accepted to exist (and probably do, considering chakra beasts also do)

Madara hasn't betrayed the village yet in their time, the kyuubi hasn't been sealed in Mito yet, their interactions with yokai is one of fear and respect they are taught to consider daily

If you tell them Naruto is a jinchuriki, you will recieve blank stares.

If you tell them he is a vessel of a demon fox you will receive a mixed reactions of leaning away cautiously going "someone put a DEMON in that guy? Why???" and leaning forward curiously saying the exact same thing

Oh god, Kakashi's sharingan

Bloodline theft was THE ultimate no-no taboo of the warring states era, they're going to react very badly to it. Someone better explain the situation (someone other than Kakashi tbh, bc they can't reliably believe the word of a bloodline thief to explain that he's innocent. Of course he'll say he's innocent!) to them or else Kakashi is at risk of someone attempting to gouge his eye out for justice on the Uchiha's behalf

@ohai-there YEAHH THEY LITERALLY CAME OUT OF NOWHERE THERE ARE SO MANY QUESTIONS

Maybe if they'd just asked where they came from nicely they'd have answered 💅

Konoha teams sent after them (including Kakashi) finally catch up and Kakashi asks and they just straight up go "Huh? Oh time travel, yeah, wild right?" And Kakashi just. Does not believe them. Assumes he's being fucked with.

Incredibly self indulgent 'early konoha kids get zapped into canon right after Hiruzen is killed' au..... save me incredibly self indulgent 'early konoha kids get zapped into canon right after Hiruzen is killed' au ,,,,

This is so stupid but I'm embracing the cringe.

POV a Nara an Orochi and 2 Hatake twins fuck around and find out with one of Tobirama's seals (that one of the Hatake's definitely stole) when they really really shouldn't and get zapped to Konoha

Immediate glaring problem: the Orochi clan is incredibly recognizable. They all look very similar. And Orochimaru is the only one left in modern era and also just killed the Hokage in front of a fuck ton of people, like, last week. And is also a known body hopper so any minor differences in appearance can be very easily waved away.

They don't even realize smthn went wrong at first bc they were fucking around way on the outskirts of town to avoid being caught playing with things they shouldn't, and when they return to town they take the back ways around so they don't even notice the new buildings n stuff

They all just kinda shrug and call it a day after the seal explodes on them (and poke at the Hatake who's genius idea it was to play with the seal, who is also the only one of them currently throwing up in the grass due to the seal backlash) and split off to go home

"Did it hurt?" Haru cheerfully prodded his brothers cheek with his finger. "Do you feel sick?" He gave him another poke. "Do you feel stupid?" At this poke, Hiro let out a low grumble. "You look pretty stupid."

Only, in going home, the Hatake's return to a ruined, falling appart clan compound that suitably freaks them out

The Nara to a house that looks somewhat the same (with some changes to the garden) but has a new family in it who yells at her in confusion when she apparently breaks in and chases her away

And the Orochi, the only one of them to go run errands before heading home, is immediatley mistaken for Orochimaru and tackled by like 10 ANBU agents at once while trying to buy groceries (the weeping shopkeep is very relieved. The Orochi meanwhile, is very confused)

Prison break time !! The Nara and Hatake twins very messily break out their friend, who then refuses to leave without retrieving their gourd, which was taken to evidence (and is an important clan artifect and weapon) so the escape gets even messier

They may have tried to clear up any misunderstandings but that was before their Orochi buddy got put in prison under threat and schedule of torture, so they decide to fuck off from the village in hopes of creating some distance

(There's a lot of conflict on Konoha's side, behind the curtains and higher up, from some who had interacted w Orochinatsu, who do not believe them to be Orochimaru. And those who interacted w them and do. And Danzo, who wants them dead and or in his hands either way, who is also kind of in charge rn bc Sarutobi's fucking dead)

So they retreat real hard and real fast and knock right into Sasuke actually, who's in the middle of trying to defect to sound.

Oh also it's to note that the warring states guys are all 17-18, so they (read:the Hatake twins) see Sasuke and are like "oh the ittle baby wishes to commit treason? That's so cut— whO taught him that ????? (Chidori) WHY CANT I DO THAT I WANT TO DO THAT ???????"

Anyways they somehow join Sasuke on his little trip to sound— They hear Orochimaru and think of the Orochimaru of their time (the name is a title passed down through Orochi clan heads) and they also, now somewhat aware of the time travel, think of the (literal this time) baby Oro they occasionally babysit together, and who is Orochinatsu's baby cousin (who is, yes, the Orochimaru of this time)

They get to Sound and Orochimaru is like "???? Ayo ????" for MULTIPLE reasons, this entire thing fascinates him

Omg Sasuke u brought him a gift ?? Ur such a good guest!

Unfortunately for them tho, Orochinatsu is also like. Literally the most perfect body he could ask for, actually. They look really similar, the kid is young and strong and healthy, plus also very talented (annoyingly to the others, one of the most skilled among their generation in early konoha) they already have a snake contract, and best of all they're literally directly biologically related to Orochimaru, which could seriously help the body snatching procedure, etc.

Unsure where it goes from there, they might tuck Sasuke under their arm and book it, maybe even promise to help w his Itachi problem, idk I'm just having fun spinning around in circles in a chair daydreaming ab silly stupid oc time travel aus

Staring at a wall telling myself to embrace the cringe ,,, I earned it,, tis my birthright to make unasked for naruto oc content ,,

[faaun]

pls i need to provide updates

[ashorterurl]

.

[skinnymeanfaggot]

also

[lightningfilledsaber]

I’ll be talking about the last post I reblogged in the tags of this post for the sake of the person I reblogged it from

[termagax]

sighs. yk i dont think it was anything they were ever planning on but i do think they would at least have had a conversation like "do you ever think about getting married" and i wonder how that would go for them

[malcriada]

Help save Bilal's family!

i want to talk about my friend Bilal @bilal-salah0. for over a year now, Bilal has been living in germany, trying to adjust to his new living situation in a foreign country, learning a new language and working full time. 

when the war started, he was far away from home and his family and has been living in daily fear for their lives ever since. 

being forced to work long hours and promoting his family’s fundraiser at the same time, he has taken on more responsibility than anyone ever should. still, he managed to raise money for their evacuation fund and helped take care of his family’s daily needs with the money he was making while working. 

in a cruel twist of fate, all of this got taken away in an instant. he lost his job and his apartment and even his residence permit. which means he is at danger of deportation from germany that could happen as soon as next week!

i have been in daily contact with Bilal for a while now and connected him with some of my friends in germany. together, we are trying our utmost to make sure he can stay in the country. anyone who knows german bureaucracy knows what kind of hell it is. but we won't give up.

without his job, he was forced to dip into the money of his family’s evacuation fund to cover their daily expenses like food and shelter. this meant he had to raise his goal from €70,000 to €100,000. this was not an easy decision for him to make, he even asked for my advice on whether or not to do it, because he did not want anyone to think he was scamming people. 

even in such a desperate situation, Bilal does not want to be seen as someone who would ever take advantage of people's generosity

his family is comprised of 18 members, 10 of them are adults and 8 are children under 16 years old, some of them newborns who were born amidst the chaos of war and displacement.

currently, he is sitting at:

€71,817 / €100,000

donations have been slowing down ever since he reached his original goal. i cannot stress how important it is that they pick back up!

WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME! HE NEEDS TO REACH HIS GOAL BY AUGUST 15TH!

THAT MEANS HE HAS TO RAISE NEARLY 30K IN THE NEXT TEN DAYS. THIS CANT WAIT.

his campaign has been verified and can be found on @/el-shab-hussein’s and @/nabulsi’s list of vetted fundraisers here (#132, line 136) so PLEASE don't hesitate to share and donate.

With such a tight deadline, i cant do this on my own. So i implore you to PLEASE share this wherever you can– on your whatsapp groups, on your discord servers, please share his story on other platforms wherever you have reach! Please share his story wherever you can, so that we can ease this burden from his shoulders.

[ID: a gfm link with a picture of two small children sitting in the sand in front of a cooking pot. they are looking up a the camera, eyes half-closed. the title reads "Donate to Help Evacuate My Family from Gaza to Safety, organized by Bilal salah" End ID]

tagging for reach under the cut, please let me know if you'd like to be removed:

@meaganfoster @briarhips @dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe

@schoolhater @pcktknife @sawasawako

@feluka @terroristiraqis @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @khanger @kibumkim @neechees

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @7bitter @tortiefrancis

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @vague-humanoid @criptochecca

@aristotels @komsomolka @xinakwans @heritageposts @nibeul

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat

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@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates2

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@psychotic-gerard @mavigator @communistkenobi @socalgal @chilewithcarnage

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@xinakwans @givemearmstopraywith @loombreaking @killy @deathlonging

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@fridgebride @27-moons @tamarrud @familyabolisher @fleshdyk3

@decolonize-solidarity @palipunk @gothhabiba

[lostfracturess]

seven minutes of misunderstanding — satoru gojo

of all the ridiculous situations you've found yourself in, being trapped in a closet with satoru gojo has to top the list. especially when you're convinced he's dating his best friend.

Of all the places you expected to end up tonight, being crammed in a tiny closet with Satoru Gojo wasn't one of them.

A stupid campus party game had somehow led to this moment—you, him, and about fifteen winter coats in a space barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

You're painfully aware of every point where your bodies touch — your back against his chest as you try to avoid the hanging coats, his breath tickling your neck, his hand awkwardly hovering somewhere near your waist like he's not sure where to put it.

The closet is so small that when you attempt to turn around to face him (because somehow facing him seems less intimate than having his breath on your neck), your chest brushes against his.

You hear his sharp intake of breath, feel the way his body tenses against yours. You're so close to him in a way it makes your skin tingle, and you're grateful for the darkness hiding your blush.

"So..." Satoru drawls. "Come here often?"

"Did you seriously just—" You try to gesture incredulously and end up elbowing him in the ribs with enough force to make him grunt. "Shit, sorry!"

You try to put some distance between you but that only results in you stepping on his foot. "Oh god, I'm so sorry! Again!"

"Just—don't move," he says, his hands finally finding your shoulders to hold you still. You feel the warmth of his palms through your shirt as he clears his throat. "We could just... not do anything. Nothing has to happen if you don't want it to. We can just wait it out."

The consideration in his voice surprises you. You try to see his face in the darkness and end up with a mouthful of fuzzy coat. After spitting out what you hope isn't synthetic fur, you say, "That's really sweet of you. And like, I get it. This must be super awkward for you too."

"Awkward?" He sounds puzzled.

"Yeah, I mean... being stuck in here with a girl when you're..."

"When I'm what?"

"You know..." You wave your hand vaguely in the narrow space. "I just meant, like, with you and Geto..."

There's a moment of complete silence, and then Satoru starts laughing so hard you can feel him shaking against you. "You think— me and Suguru? Oh my god, is that why you turned me down for lunch last month?"

"Wait, what? I thought you were just being nice! You're always hanging all over Geto—"

"Because he's my best friend."

"And that time I saw you feeding him—"

"He had a broken arm!"

"The couples' costume at Halloween—"

"We were Mario and Luigi! They are brothers."

Every explanation makes you want to dissolve into the floor more. "Oh my god," you say. "You know everyone on campus thinks you're gay—not that there's anything wrong with that! I totally support you two, you're so cute together and—"

"Can you please stop," he interrupts, pressing a finger to your lips to silence you. "I am very, very interested in women."

Your heart skips. "Oh, really?"

"Yes." His voice drops lower as he removes his finger from your lips. "One woman in particular, actually." You can feel him lean closer. "And she's currently pressed up against me in a very small closet."

"Oh," is all you can manage, your brain short-circuiting as you process his words. You try to lean back slightly, but there's nowhere to go, and suddenly his face is very close to yours.

Then he asks a question you never thought Satoru Gojo would ever ask you. "Can I kiss you?"

The question is soft, almost vulnerable—so unlike the usual Satoru you know. When you don't immediately respond, too shocked to form words, his hand comes up to gently cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze in the darkness. "Can I kiss you?" he asks again, his thumb brushing across your lower lip.

A breathless "yes" escapes your lips before you can overthink it.

The first brush of his lips against yours is gentle, questioning, like he's afraid you might change your mind.

Then you grab his shirt and pull him closer, and gentle goes right out the window. He kisses like he's trying to prove a point, like he's been thinking about this for ages, and oh — maybe he has been.

His hands slide from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepens the kiss. You gasp against his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to sweep his tongue against yours, drawing a small sound from your throat that makes him grip you tighter.

"Still think I'm gay?" he says against your jaw, trailing kisses down your neck that make your knees weak.

"Not sure," you tease him, even as your head tilts back to give him better access. "Might need more convincing."

You feel him smile against your neck. "More convincing, huh?"

In one fluid motion, he presses you more firmly against the wall, his body completely flush against yours. One of his hands slides into your hair while the other grips your hip, thumb stroking the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up.

"Let me be very clear then." He punctuates each word with a kiss. "I am very—" kiss "—very—" kiss "—interested—" kiss "—in you."

His hand tightens in your hair as his tongue sweeps against yours, drawing a small whimper from your throat that makes him groan in response.

"God," he breathes against your lips, pulling back just enough to speak. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this?"

You can't form a coherent response because he's already kissing you again, harder this time, more desperate. Something falls off a nearby shelf as you shift against him, but neither of you care.

You're so lost in each other that you don't hear the warning knock. The door flies open, flooding the space with light and the sounds of party chaos.

"God, finally!" Geto's voice breaks through the stunned silence. "Do you know how long I've had to watch him pine over you?"

"Suguru, I will literally murder you," Satoru growls, but he doesn't let go of you. Instead, he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Wanna leave this party?"

And oh, you do.

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

tags. @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan