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#we learned what it meant at the end of season 1 but it's so much worse when you know why he's in pain all the time

thesoftboiledegg · 2 years

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I already talked about this in a reblog, but I'll go ahead and make a separate post.

I'm not a season 1 fan, but it's iconic in a way that no other season is. Rick and Morty was THE show when it came out. Everyone was watching it, even people who don't normally watch this genre. The series spawned countless memes, like Mr. Meeseeks and "Hungry for apples?" When you say "wubba lubba dub dub," people who haven't watched a single episode still get the reference.

Seasons 2 and 3 were still huge, but you can't replicate the cultural milestone that was season 1. It's like the first Avengers movie. The MCU's had bigger movies and crazier team-ups since then, but you can't beat the original team-up that made cinematic history.

Rick and Morty's success was also insane for Adult Swim, which mostly airs underground shows that the general public hasn't heard of. Aqua Teen Hunger Force is the only original show that even comes close. Most people have heard of it and maybe watched a few episodes, but it's still an indie show like Squidbillies. Rick and Morty was the center of the zeitgeist.

Partially, the show's simplicity made it blow up. It wasn't simple in a condescending way--it was just straightforward enough that you could mostly watch the episodes out of order and know what was going on. The jokes landed, the plots were well paced and the concept was easy to understand. Drunk bastard grandpa takes his grandson on science-y adventures. Pretty straightforward.

The show infamously targeted a certain audience that went "Finally, a show written for people like me!" While there was clearly more going on with Rick than he let on, the show didn't dive into that too deeply, making it easy for that audience to project themselves on him. Rick was a gravely voiced tech bro who preached about atheism, nihilism and how love is just a chemical reaction--and boy, did the Internet love it.

It's hard to believe now, but Rick and Morty memes were EVERYWHERE. I remember an AV Club commenter who made a Mr. Meeseeks novelty account that just replied "I'm Mr. Meeseeks, look at me!" to people's posts. The show still spawns memes, like "You son of a bitch, I'm in," but that could've come from any show. Mr. Meeseeks could only come from Rick and Morty.

While I prefer the later seasons, they're just not that meme-able. You can't exactly make a meme out of Rick trying to get Bird Person to elope with him or living out his anime fantasies.

People also gushed about the "scientific" (not really) aspects of the show, like how the season 2 premiere--OK, different season, but it was close enough to season 1--showed the different timelines with a split-screen effect. Again, Rick and Morty is still a great show, but you don't see random Internet commenters going "Oh man, I loved watching Rick go on a date with that dragon!"

Season 1 is so famous that the general public basically thinks it ended there, which makes it hard to get people to watch the show because they think it's still a bro-fest. Fanmade merchandise features all the old memes: "Hungry for apples?" "My man!" "Wubba lubba dub dub!" I still hear people say that last one even though Rick hasn't said it non-ironically since season 1.

Ultimately, season 1 is iconic in a way that no other season will ever replicate. Maybe it's because of the memes, the creative concept or the fact that Rick gave sarcastic tech bros a voice--but it's also a story of classic simplicity.

#god watching him say 'wubba lubba dub dub' is so depressing now #we learned what it meant at the end of season 1 but it's so much worse when you know why he's in pain all the time #rick and morty #rick sanchez

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absolutebl · 2 months

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This Week in BL - Japan is Winning on Kisses & Other Alternate Realities

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

March 2024 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Two Worlds (Thurs IQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - It would be great if we got the alternative romance with dead Kram from Tai’s perspective (JBL style.) Still I like this show. It’s a little bit like I Feel You Linger in the Air only with a love triangle. And while I'm not a fan of triangles as a general rule, I don’t mind it here because the set up is clever. Wayu and ao are fun sides too. It sure is moving very quickly, which I like. I’m not entirely sure what’s going on. But that’s normal for me with this kind of Thai drama.

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 4 of 8 - They are extremely sappy boyfriends. I love that mom has a secret gf. Could we please have more of them? The love triangle sides are ridiculous, but I do like that it’s all out in the open. I also like they are actually addressing the complicated parental dynamics of owning a sex club. Honestly, I think Khem should have to be a host too. Learn him the right way, girl!

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 9 of 12 - It’s good, I like the fallout and them actually having to deal with crazy fans and past relationships. They’re so good at communicating it’s kind of a pleasure to watch them suffer through external pressures, because I have faith that they can make it through.

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) ep 6 of 8 - They are such cute puppy dads and so clearly meant to be together, the fact that they aren’t is just frustrating. The fight thing was stupid. And not a whole lot happened... plus singing. I’m getting fatigued with this one.

1000 Years Old ep 7 of 12 - Did I miss something happening, or did nothing happen?

Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) ep 2 of 6 - It’s so boring, there’s so much guitar playing, and it got weirdly voyeuristic (in a very much not sexy way). I’m totally out. DNF

Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Weds iQIYI) ep 3 of 6 - I can’t tell if this is trying to be a BL Romancing the Stone, or a BL Hangover, or both. The problem with situational comedy is it must be both situational and comedic, not just option one. The problem with calling something BL, is that it must be BL. This show got 1 of 3 claims correct. 33% is not a passing grade. DNF

Honestly, it's the HANDS with these two. They do beautiful beautiful things with their hands. If you're one of those hands-obsessed BLabies you should be watching LIBTSTA!

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube & Viki) ep 6 of 11 - So the worst finally happened. The mountain of pain has fallen down upon us. And now, hopefully in the second half things get better for our boys. But what a rough ride. Normally, this is not my style of BL, but everyone is doing such a gorgeous job with it, I can’t fault it… except that it hurts. The red thread symbolism was elegantly done. I’d like to hope we get a reunion in the next one, but knowing this style of series they’re gonna draw it out. There's gonna be a more pain first.

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - Those fuck me puppy dog eyes were perfectly executed. I would not have been able to resist either. Gosh they are so damn cute. This is a great show.

Jazz for Two (Korea Gaga/grey) eps 1-2 of 8 - This comes from the Shoulder to Cry On team so I'm scared, but this one is all actors* not idols so maybe they'll be braver. Boy howdy does it have a fantastic opening sequence. Also the lead is fucking adorable. Mr Broody McBroodypants is cute too. Korea sure loves “pretty but broken.” On the JBL end of the spectrum, is everyone in love with their siblings? That’s weird. The dining room scene was painful. All in all, it's good, I'm intrigued. Let's see how you go little show.

I stand absolutely corrected the lead is a member of NEWKIDD (in my defense I'd never heard of them until Build Up last month). I did recognize him from To My Star because at the time I thought he was too pretty to be only a side character.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 10 fin - Again there was overuse of previous footage and maudlin navel-gazing grief over something we knew was going to happen. So I didn’t really feel much emotional connection to the drama. 7 year time gap.? t was a cute reunion but the moral quandary never really got resolved. I don’t know how to rate this, I’m not sure I will ever watch it again, so that is a big mark against it.

There’s nothing objectively wrong with this BL except how upsetting it is because of the foundational pygmalion story - grown man falls in love with an android who is basically both his slave and, by maturity level, a child. Yet that premise is crystal clear from the get go, so we watch it eyes open. The actors are cute, the romance sweet, the physical chemistry on point (of course, it’s Taiwan) and yet I was left ultimately unsettled by the concept, content, and plot. 7/10

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 7 of 8 - I'm so ready for this to be over, and for Gaga to have something good on. Soon please?

It's done, ready to binge, but I suck

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps

It's airing but...

Graduation Countdown (Taiwan YouTube) - It's too much to ask me to keep up with 2 minute verticals, I don't have that kind of TikTok endurance training. Waiting to binge.

A Secretly Love (Thai Sat WeTV grey) 10 eps - I watched the first ep but grey is too much work for this inferior of a show. I may pick up and binge if it gets distribution but for now, it gets a DNF from me. KimCop might have held this crap together but Kim without Cop? No thank you.

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.

Tangential to the genre

There has been the occasional discussion on this topic here in this little corner of tumblr so I thought there might be a few intersted in this podcast: AmericanThaiGuy Ron Weaver on the Complicated Issue of Racism in Thailand (The Bangkok Podcast)

Thailand passed its Marriage Equality bill through the lower house. It's expected to pass the high house and get signed by the King, but that hasn't quite happened yet.

And MaxTul dropped a photo shoot.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting Soon

3/31 Only Boo! (Thai GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - New main couple for GMMTV in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks grumpy/sunshine pair who fall deeply in love but, of course, baby boy idol can't date. Boyband but from GMMTV? Control your singing and I'm game.

3/31 The Next Prince (Thai ????) 12 eps - trailer. ZeeNew in a fantasy/historical set in a palace where Zee plays a knight and Nu a prince - YES PLEASE. (Apparently this is just the pilot, not the start of the actual show, see comments.)

4/1 Love is like a Cat (Korea ????) 12 eps - This completed filming Aug 2022(!) which means there have been serious problems with post-production. This is another of Silkwood's Korean+Thai colab projects. Mew Suppasit plays a rookie film star, called the Cat Prince (for his cold arrogance) who goes up against a charismatic puppyish animal daycare director (JM of JUST B). There is a side romance (love triangle?) with a veterinarian. Geonu of JUST B is also in the cast. Dual languages.

Hum, trash-watch-a-licious?

4/3 We Are (Thai GMMTV YouTube iQIYI) 12 eps - University ensemble BL featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawinPoon - basically the good kind of messy gay friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is queer. I'm IN!

4/11 Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan ????) 10 eps - Kindly Ryota goes off to uni only to find his new roommate is his childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend and Ryota tries to help him figure out why, they fall in love along the way. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake.

4/11 Gray Shelter AKA Gray Currents (Korea ????) 4 eps - SooHyuk is only just surviving and reunites with YoonDae, an old friend. They end up living together. One of the leads is played by Choco of Choco Milk Shake.

4/18 At 25:00, in Alaska AKA 25 Ji, Akasaka de (Japan Gaga - may not be global) 10 eps - Yuki lands his first starring role in a BL drama alongside superstar Asami (previously his senior at uni). Said superstar suggests they form a sham relationship until filming concludes. As they actually begin to fall in love, the spotlight begins to burn.

Seriously? You're killing me with these titles, boys.

4/26 My Stand-In (Thai iQIYI) 12 eps - adaptation of Chinese novel "Professional Body Double" by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KP (not a recommendation IMHO - my biggest criticism of that show was the clashing directing styles). This one looks well complicated, lemme try: Joe is a stuntman for famous actor Tong. Joe falls in love with Ming but Ming sees Joe as nothing more than a Tong-replacement. After learning this horrible truth, Joe dies. Joe then wakes up in the body of another man also named Joe. He manages to rebuild the same life as before—with the same people eventually re-meeting Ming. Ming wants Joe back but Joe doesn't understand why. But Ming seems to know what's going on and wants to give him some kind of explanation.

I'm exhausted just trying to describe the plot.

Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous partner) and Best, news here.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

NOTE: It looks like one of my personal favorites of last year Unintentional Love Story is getting a spin off!

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT

Just these two, in my head, rent free. Thanks Japan!

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy. (With so many tags when does a weekly tumblr post become a newsletter? That is this week's philosophical question...)

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coraniaid · 3 months

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In Season 1's Witch Buffy insists on defending Amy's apparent use of magic, even when she thinks she's been cursed by a life-threatening spell that Amy cast on her. "It's not Amy's fault," Buffy tells her friends, "She only became a witch to survive her mother".

This is an interesting moment for a couple of reasons. It's one of the last few times on the show that anybody will stand up for Amy Madison, a character who, despite going through multiple horrific experiences through the course of the show, is treated with considerably less sympathy or respect than .... well, take your pick, honestly: I'm not sure I can think of a recurring character the show consistently has less empathy for. But also, of course, Buffy is factually wrong: it wasn't Amy who cast a spell on her at all, but rather her mother Catherine who, we later learn, used magic to steal her daughter's body "a few months ago" and imprisoned her in own home in an attempt to relive her own high school glory days.

But it's also, I think, a possible bit of unintentional foreshadowing. Later on in the show, Amy will go on to become a witch. Not just any witch but, by the standards the show will later adopt, a surprisingly powerful one: already by her second appearance Amy seems to be able to cast spells that the Willow Rosenberg of Season 3 and 4 would have struggled with (the turning people into a rat and back one in particular), and Willow is clearly meant to be some sort of prodigy.

The show never bothers to ask how or why this happened. Amy presumably had access to her mother's old spell books (in the same way Willow was initially teaching herself from Jenny Calendar's notes), but until some point in Season 3, when she starts doing magic with Willow and Michael, Amy doesn't seem to have had any one else helping her. (Although one slightly depressing possibility raised -- I think unintentionally -- by Season 6 is that Amy was already going to see Rack as early as the high school seasons: how else would she know how to find him in Wrecked only days after being turned back into a human and after having been trapped in the form of a rat since Season 3's Gingerbread?).

But, again, why is Amy doing this? We know a lot about why Willow wants to become a witch. We can guess why Tara -- whose own relationship with her mother is almost the exact opposite of Amy's -- became a witch. What about Amy herself? What is her motive? There are much easier ways to cheat on tests, surely. Are we supposed to assume that being an evil witch is hereditary or something? (Certainly the show hadn't quite yet decided what it wanted witchcraft to be a metaphor for, for all that Amy's second appearance literally begins with her asking Willow if she's planning to attend the school's Valentine Dance.)

Well, consider how Witch ends. Buffy and Catherine are fighting, Catherine casts a spell to ensure that Amy "never makes trouble again", the spell backfires and Catherine vanishes. The audience know what happen to her, but none of the characters ever find out ("There's been no sign of her?" Buffy asks Amy after she's got her own body back.) Maybe Amy wasn't quite as confident about not having to worry about her mother anymore as she claims to be. Maybe she was worried that her new idyllic life with her father wouldn't last for long (and... well, it doesn't). Maybe she was afraid about what would happen to her if her mother ever came back looking for revenge and Amy still wasn't strong enough to defend herself.

So maybe Buffy was right after all. Maybe Amy did become a witch to survive her mother.

#btvs #apropos my last post I don't think this reading is in any way intended by the writers who obviously gave Amy almost no thought at all

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luckybyler · 2 months

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It’s PAINFULLY OBVIOUS that Stranger Things was meant to be three seasons long: season 1, 2, and a previous version of what we will now know as season 5.

I’m not saying that seasons 3 and 4 are bad, they’re great. But they very much feel like a detour from the original plan.

We know the show was meant to last more than 1 season because Noah auditioned for Will by reading the “crazy together” scene from season 2. We know it was meant to last more than two seasons because in the original script of the snowball dance they had Will looking longingly at Mike, which implies there was still stuff to be explored (we may be able to find clues in other, monster-related plots). However, they removed Will’s look towards Mike and added an unscripted Mileven kiss. This was a deliberate choice to stretch these storylines further instead of being resolved in the third, originally final season. They also came up with that horrid hidden spin-off pilot that was episode 7.

Seasons 3 and 4 feel like a forced detour from the original plan: the whole dealing with a lot of summer tween/early teenager angst, “killing” Hopper then immediately showing us that he’s not dead, retrofitting Vecna into the story, which meant giving El the soap opera-esque “stroke” as a justification for why she could barely talk when there were other kids there; “killing” Brenner then bringing him back *again* just to kill him *again*, making El lose her powers for a minute yet get them back *again*. Making the Byers move to California just to bring them back *again*, having El learning about fashion just to regress *again*, breaking up Mileven twice just to get them back together *again*. And made Byler fall out then reconnect *again*, then Will look at Mike longingly while he gave his speech to El, a heightened version of what was supposed to happen at the Snowball dance. They even rehashed Steve’s feelings for Nancy *again*.

Trim the fat from Seasons 3 and 4, and all the main characters are in a place where they would have been a couple of episodes or maybe halfway into a hypothetical 3rd and final season: Jopper are together; Jancy are together but have the college thing to talk about, Mileven are together but there’s doubt that Mike loves her, Byler are full of romantic tension but getting interrupted, Max has just been attacked and is the one in a coma this time while Lucas suffers, Dustin just experienced the loss of a big brother figure (clearly a placeholder for Steve), Hawkins is destroyed by the Upside Down, etc.

My theory is that the Duffers were working on Season 2 when Netflix addressed Stranger Things’ sudden massive popularity, sat them down, asked them to make it five season instead at least, and they said “fine”, so they tweaked the middle in order to get back to (more of less) their original idea for the ending.

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things #this was a reply to another post #but I made it its own post because I want people to read this

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ineffable-endearments · 5 months

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I was rethinking the bookshop meta I wrote a while ago and realized I was not thinking big enough.

The bookshop has always been Aziraphale's version of Crowley's plants (his trauma reenactment), but also, absolutely everything Aziraphale does in Season 2 is a re-creation of Heaven's role. Crowley's behavior also encompasses everything, not just his plants.

I've seen it suggested that centering Aziraphale and Crowley's trauma histories is reducing their characters to behaving like just reactive victims instead of survivors with agency. Or worse, it's "excusing bad behavior." I don't agree with either of these, because I feel that part of Good Omens is about how large, powerful systems affect individuals, and so the context of every character's decisions matters a lot to the overall themes of the story. Everyone starts out working within a system they believe to reflect reality and then has to learn how to break free of it. You cannot really illustrate that without having the characters start out being genuinely trapped with different ways of coping with their reality.

This is an attempt at a pretty big-picture meta. Although it isn't a plot prediction, it's how I think some of the series' themes are going to progress. It starts out perhaps a little grim, but in the long run, it's how Aziraphale's character growth and relationship with Crowley can simultaneously be massive for them as individuals, a crucial part of the overarching narrative message of the series, and symbolic of a change in all of Heaven and Hell, all while allowing the themes to continue to prioritize human free will.

In short, it's about Aziraphale's problems, but it's also meant to be an Aziraphale love post.

All of the below exists in tandem with Good Omens as a comedy of errors. Just because there are heavy ideas does not mean they will not also be funny. Look back on how much of Season 2 seemed silly until we started to pick it apart! One of the amazing things about Good Omens is how it manages to do both silly and serious at once! (I feel like that's maybe a little Terry Pratchett DNA showing through. "Laughter can get through the keyhole while seriousness is still hammering on the door," as Terry himself said.)

Aziraphale has really embraced his connection to Crowley in Season 2, and he has also become considerably more assertive toward Heaven and Hell. These are both major growth points compared to the beginning of Season 1.

However, again, we have the concept of growing pains...Aziraphale is starting to re-create Heaven's role in his relationship with Crowley and humanity. It's really obvious with the Gabriel argument and the I Was Wrong Dance, but I think we see it all over the place: he seems to feel any serious dissent is a betrayal. He also seems to assume there's a dominance hierarchy and he, of course, is on top. Now that he's decided to take control of his own future, then surely that does mean he's the one in control, right?

With all that said, he still seems to have trouble being direct about the feelings that make him most vulnerable. He manipulates people and engineers situations in which he can try to get his emotional needs met rather than saying things outright (case in point: the Ball).

Like I pointed out in the bookshop meta: subconsciously, he's playing the role of God, modified with what God would be if She were everything he wants Her to be. He's generous, almost infinitely sweet, always does what's best for people...or, at least, what he believes is best for people. During the Ball, Aziraphale influences the people around him to be comfortable and happy even when they're not supposed to be, and he limits their ability to talk about things he thinks are too rude or improper for happy, formal occasions.

Doesn't this pattern sort of make sense for an angel who's just discovering free will? Like, at the end of Season 1, he made an enormous choice to stand against Heaven and realized he could survive it. Now he's gone a bit overboard with exerting his own will. Unfortunately, while he's learned to question upper management, he's still operating on a fundamental framework of the universe where there have to be two sides and there has to be a hierarchy. Also, since Aziraphale is on the Good side, he of course has to gear his desires into what's Good rather than just what he wants, so he sometimes thinks he's doing things for others when really he's doing things for himself. (For example, matchmaking Maggie and Nina started out as something he wanted to use to lie to Heaven, but by the time he was commenting "Maggie and Nina are counting on me," he seemed sincere, like he had genuinely convinced himself this was for them and not for himself.)

Aziraphale knows Heaven interferes in human affairs, ostensibly on God's behalf. He thinks She should be intervening in ways that are beneficial. What I believe the narrative wants him to learn is that God and Heaven shouldn't be manipulating people at all, not even for Good, and in fact there is no real meaningful hierarchy.

Anyway, a top-down, totally unquestioned hierarchy is the primary social relationship Aziraphale has known, and it's certainly been the dominant one for most of his existence: you're either the boss or the underling, and if someone seriously questions you, they don't have faith in you - they don't respect you.

No, his relationship with Crowley has not always been like that, but they've been creating their relationship from whole cloth, so how would he know it shouldn't become that way, now that it's "real" and out in the open?

No, human relationships aren't like that, but Aziraphale clearly does not see himself or Crowley as human. As the relationship approached something that seemed like it must be "legitimate," Aziraphale would naturally look for a framework to fit it to. And again, the only one he has is the shape of "intimacy," or what passes for it, in Heaven. What has "trust" always meant in all his "legitimate" relationships? It has always meant unquestioning obedience, of course. What have the warm fuzzies felt like in Heaven? Well, praise from the angels above him is nice, so that must be it, right?

Aziraphale even describes being in love as "what humans do," separating out that relationship style. Someday, I think he'll realize he favors the shape of love on Earth, something that's more inherently equal, more give-and-take. Look at how he idealizes it from afar at the Ball. But I think that, like Crowley before Nina pointed it out, Aziraphale maybe hasn't 100% grokked that it can and in fact should work that way for him and Crowley, too. Just like people can desperately want to dance without knowing how to dance, or can desperately want to speak a language without knowing the language, Aziraphale does not instinctively know how to have the kind of relationship where he can be truly vulnerable and handle Crowley's vulnerability as well.

Aziraphale is downright obsessed with French, known as the "language of love." He's trying to learn it the Earthly way. He's not very good at it, but he wants to be.

This pattern is still present during the Final Fifteen even if we assume Aziraphale is asking Crowley to become an angel again out of fear (and I find it very hard to believe that fear doesn't factor in at all). He's still building his interactions off of that Heaven-like framework: he asks Crowley to trust him blindly, he tries to assume a leadership role with a plan Crowley never agreed to and couldn't follow anyway, and he tries very hard not to leave room for an ounce of doubt. He also suggests making Crowley his second-in-command and obviously does not register that this could possibly be offensive. Again, I think this is because for Aziraphale, there has always been a hierarchy in Heaven, it's started to transfer to his relationship with Crowley, and breaking out of that assumption about relationships is going to take more processing than a single argument can do.

As I mentioned in another post, I don't believe Aziraphale had a real choice about whether he accepted the Supreme Archangel position. I think he could sense that he was not getting out of it and chose to look on the bright side, to see it as an opportunity. And instead of looking realistically at how that would feel to Crowley, he tried to sweep Crowley up to Heaven with him using toxic positivity, appeals to morality, and appeals to their relationship itself. Again, mimicking what Heaven has done to him.

To me, "they're not talking" is a big clue that Aziraphale's approach with Crowley is going to be the mistake the narrative really wants him to face. "Not talking" has, thus far, been presented as the central conflict of Season 3! After losing the structure and feedback Heaven gave him, Aziraphale started creating Heaven-like patterns in his relationship with Crowley, and breaking out of those patterns is what he needs to do. Discovering first-hand that Heaven's entire modus operandi is bad no matter who's in charge is how he can do it.

Look, either you're sympathetic to Aziraphale's control issues or you're not. Personally, I am. He's trying so, so hard to be good. I think trying to figure yourself out (which Aziraphale is clearly doing) is hard enough, and when you start balancing what you want for yourself, what you think are your responsibilities, and what other people are actively asking of you, you're bound to fall into the patterns that have been enforced for your whole life or for millions of years, whichever came first.

It is very easy to assume that people should Just Be Better, but it's not actually that simple to be a thinking, feeling person. My anxiety tends to move in a very inward direction and Aziraphale's moves outward. But I'd imagine the desperation and exhaustion are the same.

Unlike Nina, Aziraphale became a rebound mess. I don't think it occurred to either him or to Crowley that there could be any soul-searching, anything but carrying on with the new normal after their stalemate with Heaven and Hell.

Now, instead of getting rejected by Heaven and surviving it, Aziraphale needs to be the one to reject Heaven. It needs to be a choice. And that choice is going to come from realizing that Heaven isn't just poorly managed but also represents a bad framework for all relationships.

How could this happen? Good question. We're obviously not supposed to know yet, although I think picking at existing themes within the narrative could possibly give us hints.

It's possible Aziraphale's character development trajectory will be akin to Adam Young's in Season 1. Please see this stellar post by eidetictelekinetic for more thoughts about it, but basically, in Season 1, Adam saw that the world was not what he wanted it to be and decided his vision was better; as he ascended to power, he took complete control over all his friends and then soon realized that's not what he wants because there's no point in trying to have relationships with people who can't choose you. It's that realization that leads Adam to conclude he doesn't want to take over the world and to reject the role he's expected to play as the Antichrist. Maybe Aziraphale's trip to Heaven is an attempt at a control move during which he'll realize he's defeating his own point.

Aziraphale clearly wants to be chosen. From the very beginning, he's wanted to be special and cared for - just like Crowley has.

Incidentally, I think Aziraphale and Crowley are going to represent pieces of the bigger picture here, and this - first imitating and then rejecting Heaven's relationship style - can both symbolize Heaven's transformation and directly start it (probably in an amusing, somewhat indirect way, like when he handed off the flaming sword to Adam).

If I'm right - which I may very well not be - I think this would all be so, SO cool. Like, "An angel who is subconsciously trying to be a better God" is a concept with so much potential for both tender kindness and incredible darkness. Add to that the comedy-of-errors aspect of "...but even deeper down, he'd much rather just be super gay on Earth" and you have, in my opinion, a perfect character.

I think this could work for Crowley as well. It's obvious that in the Good Omens universe, at least so far, Hell is all about detesting humans and punishing them; Satan seems to genuinely hate humans (unlike in some of NG's other works). Our perspective on this could change, but it potentially puts Crowley in a complementary position to Aziraphale, as a demon who is trying to be "better" than Satan. But this isn't about being "morally better." It's about things having a point. Crowley's exploits usually have a point: they test people. And you can pass his tests! He sincerely likes making trouble, but Crowley doesn't live to punish.

But, once again, the above paragraph would describe a transient phase for this infinitely charming character. Because, again, I think the point will be that in the end, Crowley's deeper-down desire, moreso than testing Creation, is watching it grow with a glass of wine in hand.

#go3 speculation

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inbarfink · 6 months

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Alrighty, so a second season of ‘Fionna and Cake’ is now Officially Confirmed! I was being very cautious about speculating and getting my hopes up until it was Actually Announced, but now that it has, I can’t say I am necessarily shocked that there is going to be a continuation. Looking back on what we can now confidently call ‘Season 1’, there are a few peculiar threads which seem like they are probably meant as a set up for this second season.

Now, everything in this post is going to be very speculative. This is just me going over aspects of Season 1 which seems weird from a perspective of set-up and payoff or just feel like they need more elaboration and thinking what might be done with them in S2. With basically nothing to go on for what will Actually Happen in Season 2 save for the fact that it will exist, just remember to put a huge caveat of ‘I don’t actually know anything yet!’ next to everything I type lol

Fionnaworld Stuff

I wanna start by talking about the one part of Fionna and Cake’s Season 2 we can be pretty certain about - which is that it’s going to feature Fionna and Cake and probably the rest of the Fionnaworld gang. Although, to be perfectly honest… Right now, I am struggling to think of a clear ‘loose thread’ that can hint at where these characters will go in future. Season 1 seemed to have left everyone fairly content.

I’m not saying that there’s no place to explore these characters further - obviously I’m sure Season 2 will find whole new unexpected angles to develop them. I’m just saying that Season 1 doesn’t really have any clear threads you can point at as a basis for a prediction. At least nothing I can really see myself.

Perhaps we can give more focus to the Fionna/Hunter stuff we hinted at during Season 1, but wasn’t really given center stage? Or something about Fionna learning how she can be an adventurer on her own terms, after her Season 1 experiences kinda convinced her she couldn’t at all? Or maybe since Season 1 was kinda Fionna-focused, we’re going to get a more Cake-Focused Season 2?

That’s all I got for now, at least. I guess with ‘Fionna and Cake’ being a very character-focused show, and the idea of a renewal probably not being certain when S1 was developed - it makes sense to prioritize giving a strong sense of closure for the main characters and keep the ‘sequel teasing’ stuff to just Lore/Plot hints. Like, if there’s a little Hint of Things to Come that doesn’t amount to anything because the show got canceled that’s just like a Little Weird, but leaving the main characters’ arcs/relationships feeling unresolved forever would be a much bigger problem for the show’s legacy. And speaking of which…

Prismo Stuff

And here’s the real Interesting Stuff that inspired me to make this post in the first place. I think the most notable potential ‘sequel tease’ in F&C Season 1, the thing I always noted as Odd before the second season was confirmed, the main reason I suspected a second season was probably in the works - is definitely this little moment with Prismo during the ending…

Where he seems to ‘glitch’ for a moment.

What could this possibly mean? I am not sure, but I feel pretty confident that it’s Plot Relevant. It’s a quick but pretty noticeable Moment that doesn’t really seem to have a clear explanation within the first season, especially as it happens just as everything is wrapping up. Perhaps this is the first sign of Prismo becoming sick/malfunctioning/infected, and Season 2 is going to be about unglitching him?

Speaking of which, going into more character-related stuff… while Prismo's grief-induced-depression-spiral from Jake’s death is constantly hinted at throughout the first season - it’s never really confronted directly. I mean, we can assume that between helping out F&C and having Scarab around as a personal assistant - that could’ve helped him get a new lease on life… But maybe a second season could explore Prismo’s grief more deeply?

And then there are also these two

That’s another thing I always found very peculiar in a “hmm, are they planning on making an S2??” sort of way. Like, they spend a minute-and-a-half establishing the Core and the way it works... when I first watched it I was pretty certain it was going to come back later. Like, Simon is going to try to fuck with Time Itself to get Betty back or something. But then they just… loop back to it. It was just a piece of Lore Trivia and a background for the Actually Lore Relevant Infodump.

It might indeed be just that. Just an extra bit of Worldbuilding and a neat change of scenery in the middle of the chase scene. But I still suspect that these Time Titans will become plot-relevant at some future point.

Multiverse Stuff

Well, out of the myriad worlds that F&C have already visited, it seems like the one that has really left a lot of lingering questions in the minds of the AT Fandom is Farmworld, and those questions are primarily…

HEY!? What the FUCK??? Is he okay?? Is he dead??

So yeah, some sort of confirmation of whatever or not Farmworld Finn is/isn’t dead, and if he is dead - some sort of confirmation of how his kids are getting by considering that their eldest brother just fucked-off to another universe one day… that would be nice and give a better sense of closure on the Farmworld segment of F&C Season 1.

But personally…I think the Multiverse Moment that really rings to me the most as a ‘probable future plot point’, is definitely this little moment in Vampireworld.

The show deliberately emphasizes the moment where the Vampire King saw our Trio use God’s Remote Control to warp to another world. And personally, the vibes here seem… meaningful.

With Bonnie also drawing attention to the fact the Vampires have over-hunted the humans and basically doomed both the world in general and Vampirekind specifically… Could this be the Vampire King’s solution to that problem? Now that he has seen ‘a new thing’, a hint at the existence of the Multiverse - will he try to find a whole new world for his children to feast on?

Well… that’s an alright villain concept and a decent plot hook. My current problem with it is just… the Mainworld Vampire King made for an intriguing and interesting character due both to his compelling dynamic with Marceline and the way he has been changed by the destruction of his people into a very contemplative and complex person. Vampireworld Vampire King doesn’t really have that, as a Vampire King who has never known defeat, he's just a Very Dramatic Evil Vampire. And I feel like Adventure Time aspires to more unique antagonists than Very Dramatic Evil Vampires.

Now, it’s not impossible to make Vampireworld Vampire King a bit more Interesting if he ever takes center stage - maybe the population collapse of Vampireworld affected him in similar ways to Mainworld Vampire King, or maybe it affected him in a totally different direction, maybe we can give a bit more focus on the influence the Crown has or doesn’t have on him, maybe something else completely out-of-left-field could happen to him.

Or maybe the Star did end up surviving the Doomed Yuri Freefall and she’ll be the one trying out for Vampiric Multiverse Conqueror. She was always the, well, Star of Vampireworld - and she has the potential to be a very fun antagonist with cool thematic implications. I mean, like, Imagine her in contrast to Marshall. He gave up on a comfortable life in the laps of luxury due to wanting some freedom from his over-controlling mom and also it seems some level of moral outrage at her Landlordy ways

And the Star is a Daddy’s Girl Evil Vampire Princess and basically everything he has tried not to be. And yet… will he see a bit of himself in the Star?

Also, I wonder if we’ll see some more of the Alternative Universes Simon stumbled on during his trip back to Ooo. You know, the ones we haven’t actually seen in the main plot.

Simon Stuff

Okay, so… even before the announcement was made official, I have seen a lot of people assume that F&C Season 2 will be just as Simon-Focused as the first season. But personally, I am not sure about it just yet. I mean, I’m a huge Simon Fan, being part of the Petricollective ever since I started to watch the show, so I sure as hell will not complain but… it is important to remember the show is called “Fionna and Cake” and not “Fionna and Cake and Simon”.

I can see the idea being that Simon works as more of a ‘link’ between regular ‘Adventure Time’ and ‘Fionna and Cake’. You know, he’s a fan-favorite and the one major ‘loose thread’ in the original show that can draw old fans into this series which is mostly an all-new cast (considering the Fionnaworld Crew consider themselves to be distinctive from their old magical counterparts).... Kinda like he was the link between Fionnaworld and the rest of the Multiverse, actually. So he’s around as a major character for the first season and from then on he takes more of a secondary role. Since he is a good friend of F&C by this point and their main connection to Ooo, I doubt he’ll disappear completely, but he just might not be as central a character. Or maybe the theme of ‘Fionna and Cake’ is F&C teaming up with different Mainworld characters for different kinds of adventures?

I mean, it still could go either way. Simon’s arc feels pretty well-concluded to me but the same is true for the Fionnaworld crew and… obviously they’re going to have more Character Stuff in the upcoming season and it’s the whole thing about how it’s important to make your character arcs feel concluded if you don’t know if you’re getting another season. We’ve talked about this already.

And also… There is one aspect of Simon’s Problems at the start of the show that didn’t truly get to a satisfactory conclusion by the end of the first season. Namely, his loving-but-rocky relationships with both Marceline and Finn.

Like, y’know, he’s generally handling his Stuff better by the end of the season so I guess we can assume he’s also better at communicating with his loved ones but… it is very peculiar that we didn’t actually get to see it. Even as just a moment in his Happy Ending Montage when we see him hanging out and being happy with Finn and/or Marcy. Like, there is certainly a Point to be made about the importance of Simon making friends with people who didn’t know him much as Ice King for the sake of his recovery…

But the total absence of Finn and Marcy from Simon’s epilogue still feels… odd. So that could be something to return to in a future season. Like, I did speculate the F&C ‘format’ might be the Fionnaworld Crew + a different Mainworld character given focus every season. So maybe Simon’s still-not-fully-concluded interpersonal issues could be a launchpad to a F&C season with a primary focus on Finn and/or Marceline.

Finn and Fionna adventuring together would be pretty neat, and if we’re going to give more focus to Prismo’s Grief Problem, it would be very Thematically Appropriate. But also....confronting Finn’s own Jake Grief Problems is actually kinda challenging because we already had a whole special about it.

And that special is happening way way farther in the timeline and explicitly established that Finn never truly got over the grief of losing Jake.

So making an F&C adventure that tackles Finn’s grief in a satisfying manner without feeling it steps over Together Again’s toes… Well, it’s not impossible, but it is quite a tall feat.

Meanwhile, Marceline has less Obvious Issues That Need to Be Addressed right now but also… if we do have the Vampire King and/or the Star as a major threat for this new season, she would clearly be the one to get the Maximum Amount of Drama out of it, so…

Other Ooo Stuff

Okay, so speaking of Finn and things established early on in F&C which then didn’t really come back by the end of the first season, let’s talk a bit about the Heart of the Forest.

So this whole thing could be just a Joke. It could just be a gag about Finn disregarding Huntress Wizard’s warnings and taking his depressed middle-aged friend hiking in the Most Sacred and Ancient Forest in all of Ooo, as a joke. Haha, oh this Finn, so irresponsible! But also…

Finn and Simon were being watched. By a being wearing the same mask as the ‘Evil Bear’

But one that does not quite move like a bear world…

And then of course, this supposedly ‘Evil Bear’ only attacks Simon after he tries to get his little nerdy hands on this peculiar and important-looking tree.

This really seems to have some implications that the ‘Evil Bear’ is not just one more random ‘evil’ monster that Finn and Simon stumbled across. That they might be some sort of Guardian for the Heart of the Forest, and that their shapeshifting abilities also extend to having some sort of humanoid form, and that they are not quite as monstrous or bestial or ‘evil’ as Finn pegged them out to be.

But all that happens is that Finn kills them, and then the whole matter is not brought up again…. Well, as of Season 1, that is…

So if we are doing some sort of Finn Focused Season, that might be something to bring up. Especially if it’s paired up with some of the Fionna/Hunter stuff I brought up above.

Again, everything here is just Wild Wild Speculation at this point. This is just a bunch of Stuff that felt Weird resolution-wise in Season 1, and some loose ideas about how they might connect. If you guys have your own ideas and observations, I would love to hear them too!

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fanfic-lover-girl · 9 months

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Sorry but how was Aang “Barely Competent” in Firebending?

It Took Zuko until season 2 to get anywhere near Aang’s level and Aang’s been training for a month while Zuko’s been training for years. Love him or hate him, there’s no denying that it’s clear Aang is the better Firebender.

Zuko can only make 2 fire blasts at the same time. Aang? 3 without avatar state. Zuko took years to get more than smoke. Aang? Took a day.

Iroh admits Zuko was still at Basic Level in Firebending during The First episode. Zuko on Aang’s Firebending? Admits that redirecting Lightning was the last thing that he wants to teach. Considering Zuko’s and Aang’s battles, Iroh and Zuko were likely right about their respective pupils skills.

Hi anon. I regretted that reblog like 5mins after posting. Would you be happy if I just said you can believe what you want and call it a day??

Me neither I suppose. Sigh. I'll try to convey my thought process when I made that post. First, let me address your points.

how was Aang “Barely Competent” in Firebending

Aang trained with fire the least. Of course, with more time, Aang would master it but by the end of the show, Zuko is still better at firebending by virtue of time/experience.

Just to clarify, you are saying Aang at the end of the show is on par with season 2 Zuko? I don't think you can objectively say that. We don't see Aang using firebending seriously in a fight until the finale. And if I correctly recall the fight against Ozai, fire was not his main element. I think he used air and earth the most in that fight. It would have been cool to see fire being used more by him given the power boost of the comet though. And even if season 2 Zuko was on the same level as season 3 Aang, you need to consider that Aang was taught the true way of firebending from the get-go (well there was Jeong-Jeong of course but that was hardly serious training). Being a master is about how many times you failed and how much you learned from those failures. With Zuko's experience, he will always have an understanding of firebending that Aang will lack. My guy Zuko has failed A LOT.

Zuko took years to get more than smoke.

Huh?? Is this meant to be a joke?? Was this said in a comic?? If so, those are hardly canon to me.

Iroh admits Zuko was still at Basic Level in Firebending during The First episode.

Well, Zuko must have advanced quickly anon! With the basics, he was able to hold his own against Zhao (whom Iroh claimed to be a master) twice. He beat Zhao in the agni kai too. Zuko was able to keep up with Zhao in the Northern Water Tribe when Zuko was not at his best. Considering Katara almost murdered him and he still had injuries from his ship's explosion. Zuko is able to fight against Earth kingdom soldiers and fight the Rough Rhinos. Zuko has demonstrated numerous times that he is an above-average firebender.

And that was just season 1! Zuko has changed so much since season 1. Zuko was at the basics because Iroh was practically trying to reteach Zuko the fundamentals! Also, Zuko was gravely injured. I can only believe that Zuko had to relearn how to fight with limited vision and dealing with all that emotional turmoil.

Zuko on Aang’s Firebending? Admits that redirecting Lightning was the last thing that he wants to teach.

Once again, Zuko was on a limited time schedule. He was basically giving Aang a crash course. It's almost like a student learning the most important topic while they cram for the exam the next day. Even if Zuko had other things to teach Aang, redirecting lightning is way more important for Aang's survival. If Zuko was truly able to teach Aang everything in a few weeks, it paints firebending as an inferior bending style. Aang even admits in the finale that he needs more time to master firebending. He was planning to skip the comet because he was not ready. I don't believe in the opinion that students can't become better than their masters. But Aang was still learning by the end of season 3. Just being Aang's teacher gives Zuko an advantage in a fight.

Other small points:

Fire is not Aang's native element. Aang is always most comfortable with air. Aang does not dedicate the same effort Katara, Toph and Zuko do to their native elements. Aang was the better waterbender in season 1 (at least when it came to learning new techniques) but Katara was the one who self-taught herself those techniques. Even though as the avatar he should have been working harder than Katara to master waterbending, she overtakes him by a mile by the end of season 1. Aang and Katara were classmates. If anything Aang should be teaching Katara given he was able to start classes before her due to Pakku's sexism. She should not have to teach him anything. All this to say is that Zuko will have a greater passion for firebending compared to Aang. Zuko does not have to worry about other elements and Aang proves that raw talent is meaningless unless it is backed by dedication and hard work.

Firebending has a stronger symbolism for Zuko compared to Aang. Fire was a roadblock in Aang's avatar journey but firebending literally shaped Zuko's character and played a huge role in his redemption arc. A lot of his family issues revolve around Azula being a better firebender than him. When Zuko redeems himself, he has to relearn the meaning of firebending symbolizing the pivoting of his character. Learning the true meaning of fire is also important for him to lead the fire nation into a better future as the new firelord. Firebending has so much more thematic importance for Zuko than Aang.

By the end of the show, Zuko is able to rival Azula in combat. The idea of season 3 Aang lasting long in a firebending match with Azula is hilarious to me. Azula was able to give Aang a run for his money with the help of his more competent elements. Imagine Aang fighting Azula in the last agni kai. The girl would kill him.

Those are my main thoughts. I think Zuko is a better firebender. If anything else comes to mind, I will add to this but I am not in the mood to have a long reblog debate about it. If you still think Aang is the better firebender, I really don't care. I refuse to be stressed out on Tumblr again.

All of Aang's teachers are better benders in their own respective elements than Aang. That's just how it is. LOK gave me no indications that Aang became better than Zuko or the others either.

I will say that the gap in ability between Aang and Zuko is the smallest compared to Toph and Katara though. Aang may be able to catch up with Zuko (especially if Zuko never learnt lightning) if he works hard at it but there is no way in hell Aang will ever match Toph and Katara.

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taeloke · 2 months

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Overanalyzing 4KOTA Chapter 142 instead of just waiting for more info (2/2)

Part 1

This is the part where I talk about King and no one else. Also, this is more ramble than analysis by the end, and I'm making myself not worry about length this time, so...you have been warned :) As for Mertyl, I'll definitely talk about him again over the next chapter, though I might not say as much as I did the first time.

Firstly, look at this face. Remember all those seasons ago, when everything was peaceful for like a single week? How sweet and thoughtful this little guy was, especially against his own personal wishes?

This is King--regardless of how he's like on the outside.

Elaine herself described him as someone who tries to act tough but is really a crybaby. He's someone who can't seem to stop wearing his heart on his sleeve. He always tries to hide his feelings to keep everyone else from worrying, but try as he might, anyone will see through his "tough act" if they're around him for long enough. Awakened or not, he's not King if he's not a highly emotional character like that. He's just a lot better at putting a cover over those feelings now. He's grown up for real.

If you read these last few 4KOTA chapters without remembering the original Seven Deadly Sins story, it only makes sense to look at him more like an ass of a father right now. There's a lot to his perspective that we just haven't gotten to witness yet, and one of the easiest conclusions to make from all of that unknown space is "King loves Nasiens more than the adopted son he raised." For crying out loud, he's giving an immensely scarce cure-all to a young man who introduced himself as a human without an explanation for why Myrtel hasn't received it yet. We don't even know for sure if he's tried using the Drug of Yore to treat Myrtel's condition in the past right now.

There's just one problem about that conclusion: King isn't like that at all. It only looks like he is because this family drama is fatally poisoned with tension and misunderstandings at this point. It's starting to explode.

Remember how way back in the series, King first thought Diane without her memories of him would be better off without him at all?

I think that's a lot similar to what he's thinking with Nasiens right now. If King didn't play a part in their present happiness, then what right does he have to want their love? He'd label that as too greedy or selfish in a way that he can't allow himself to be. He thinks he knows his place, and that place is somewhere forever distanced from his first-born kid.

But he can't just do nothing for Nasiens. Maybe just one totally subtle yet significant expression of love can slide, right? What could he, seemingly as nothing more than a ruler, possibly give to Nasiens to make him happy? Maybe if he gives Nasiens just one perfect gift, Harlequin will feel like he was good for his son at least once. He'll feel like he's finally atoned for losing Nasiens for too long and failing him as a father, and then he can let that "sin" go. Surely, Nasiens wouldn't be happy knowing the truth anyway. He'll be better off never learning about his true relations, since he's built his life without it already. Assuming that "logic" is what King's going through, a lot of his actions make sense to me.

And yet he still almost slipped up and spilled the beans.

Nice save, King, but if you gave Nasiens more time to think he would have realized what you really meant. Tioreh gave him time to realize she believed he's a fairy and his initial freeze then was the exact same.

None of this is easy for King. It isn't easy for any of them. In some ways, those past 2 years must have felt like forever to him. Precious time to have his first-born kid around that he'll never get back. And after 2 years of keeping distance...

"Sorry, I couldn't help but follow you."

"I just wanted to help you out, in any way I could."

King can't keep his distance anymore. His true feelings are starting to break free.

"Hee hee... Don't be shy, now. I just want to be of assistance."

Sure, King. Saying it like that totally doesn't make it sound like there's more to this, even with your confident/amused chuckle.

Of all the gifts he could give Nasiens, I'm sure King believed this was the one thing Nasiens couldn't refuse to accept from him. A powerful healing drug that he advertised as one-of-a-kind and a once-in-a-millennium opportunity. With it presented not only as that, but also as something that might bring Percival back, how could Nasiens reject such a gift? Right?

...And then Nasiens rejects the gift. Immediately, King gets so nervous that he breaks character.

He immediately started sweating too. King prepared everything up to this moment, and he has no excuse as Nasiens questions him and calls him out.

And Nasiens is right to call him out because of how this looks.

Nasiens, just like us, doesn't yet know what the truth here is. He's right to be suspicious and King needs to realize that plans in how the changeling duo is handled need to change right now. Ready or not--telling the truth is the only way to save what's actively starting to cave in.

But the sad thing is...I have a feeling that it's too late already.

Things are only going to get worse from here... I don't know how, and in a way that makes this feel more awful.

Sixtus should tell King that Mertyl saw him offer the Drug of Yore to Nasiens. There's no doubt in my mind that King will realize the problem once he has that information and try to do whatever he can to make things right. PLEASE don't make him too late again. At least give him a chance to talk to Mertyl before things fall apart if that's where all of this is headed.

#nnt king #4kota #mokushiroku no yonkishi #nanatsu no taizai #nnt #ramblings #I feel like I have even more to say #but i cant think of any more #and i want to send this today soo

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markantonys · 7 months

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My Mom Reacts To: wheel of time season 2 episodes 5-8 (episodes 1-4) (season 1)

the episode 1-4 post did not contain book spoilers, but this one does, so beware!

first, some dinnertable questions that arose in the past few days:

mom: 3000 years ago, when the first dragon was around, was ishamael--wait. was ishamael the dragon? me: no mom: but he was around back then? me: yes, he was the first dragon's best friend, but then he betrayed him mom: just like how liandrin is betraying everyone

(also, she keeps trying to call him "ishmael" like the moby dick character)

mom: at the end of 14 books, does good triumph over evil? me: i'm not gonna tell you that mom: well this show won't go for 14 seasons, or if it does, i'll be in a dementia ward by then

mom: how long is someone the amyrlin? me: for life, unless they get removed mom: is it an elected position or would they have like a coup? me: [sweating] it's an elected position

she wanted to know where everything was, so i pulled out the handy randland map mug she gave me for christmas to show her! haha

she also asked if we see more of the other colors (ajahs) in the books, and i said if anything we see less because liandrin and alanna have much less screentime in the books, and she was very surprised to hear that

dad: [setting up a dad joke voice] what's it called when lan dies? me: what? dad: lan's end

(okay that might be an americans-only joke lmao there's a big clothing chain called lands' end, not sure how widespread it is. but it cracked ME up, at least!)

mom: does lan die?!?!?!? me: you read his wikipedia article like 2 months ago mom: well i don't remember any of it, that was a long time ago!

she also assumed that no one who is together now (lanaeve + randgwene) will end up together. i'd straight up told her a while ago that rand and egwene don't end up together but she wasn't totally sure of that now, so i think it's actually okay if i tell her spoilers because she'll forget them immediately djkfjgh

episode 5

"she should be glad to get those ridiculous nails cut"

she was horrified by the horse slaughter!

my dad laughed at the guy getting his head exploded, maybe it's not just rand maybe he just likes to see Anyone have a bad time

elyas: your friends from the two rivers aren't your pack mom: ohhhh 😔😠 elyas: neither was your wife mom: [GASP]

she loves hopper so much and i'm not ready for her to see ep8!!

brown sister trio introduced, we pause as i am tasked with writing down every ajah and what they do lmao

my mom repeatedly asked if suroth was a forsaken. probably because she has The Audacity to talk to an actual forsaken Like That!

not much reaction to aviendha at all this episode! i think my mom was a bit overwhelmed by all the new info being learned in this episode, so she was more concerned with trying to figure out who the aiel and the seanchan are than with paying attention to aviendha specifically (partially my fault bc i first explained the aiel as "those warrior people" and she thought i meant the seanchan lmao). she mourned that we hadn't started our character/terminology list on a bigger piece of paper!

i had to fight to keep it together rather than shout with joy during the gawyn namedrop djkjfgh

mom: did the red one free nynaeve so they could try to escape?? me: yes mom: she is just too complicated for me

in this same vein, my dad later referred to liandrin as a "double double agent"

moiraine: [big sigh] dad: she's always a drama queen

he's not wrong jkdjfg

ishy tenderly stroking rand's face also got no reaction, much to my surprise haha i meanwhile was silently losing it

when the seanchan were bringing out egwene and saying how powerful she is, my dad was like "but she's the wrong one, it's the other one who's powerful" oh my god let poor egwene LIVE djkfg even he is pulling a "did you hear that nynaeve is the most powerful channeler we've seen in 1000 years" on her!

my mom cracked up at moiraine saying "it's your choice rand, i mean it this time" and was like "yeah i was gonna say, is she ACTUALLY going to let him choose here?"

episode 6

my mom literally THE SECOND renna's bracelet linked with the a'dam: "so she can channel too? i thought these people punished everyone who can channel" not her INSTANTLY clocking The Sul'dam Secret when in-world it apparently took hundreds of years for anyone to notice hahaha this certainly lends weight to the "this information Is Known but routinely suppressed, as fascist governments are wont to do" interpretation over the "literally not a single person had any idea until the wondergirls" interpretation

lanfear: why do you think you can't trust me? mom: because you have a silly hat

911 lanfear's just been murdered. i guess some people (straight women) ARE immune to her dominatrix outfit djkfg

my mom also voiced her displeasure with rand's haircut again in this scene. my mom 🤝 me 🤝 mat

BOTH my parents thought lanfear's condition was going to be that rand had to kill moiraine himself! the second he opened his eyes they both said it! they're already thinking so dark!

on that note, i'd predicted my mom would be annoyed at moiraine for refusing barthanes's sandwiches, but that was not the case: instead, she and my dad both went "oh i bet the sandwiches are poisoned" they're so suspicious of everything now! and rightfully so

"i can hear you bickering from the fruit market" got a good laugh

my mom also gave a hearty, appreciative chuckle at mat shitting on rand's hair. he spoke for all of us!

mat: i'll meet you in an hour mom: they don't have watches, how will they know when it's been an hour?

mom when moiraine apologizes to barthanes: why is she being nice? me: because she feels bad mom, as if it never occurred to her moiraine might have a conscience: oh..............

mom when siuan arrives in cairhien: now someone can tell her about liandrin! me: but no one here knows that mom: UGH!!!

haha welcome to wheel of time! the necessary information is always stuck in the wrong plotlines and unable to be passed along to the relevant people!

elayne to nynaeve: if we help ryma, we can't help egwene mom: oh this poor woman, now she's faced with another hard choice just like in the arches! me: [sits there stunned because i never made that connection]

episode 7

my mom loved lan telling rand to tuck in his shirt, naturally

lan: heron dips over the wing [or whatever the name was] mom: what? me: it's a sword form, they all have weird names mom: oh, that would explain why it didn't make any sense

lan: your duty is to protect everyone in the world, not just the ones you love mom: that's a big responsibility :(

she laughed and said "she doesn't like not being the boss!" at nynaeve's face when elayne told her to do what she said

she is SO PRESSED about other characters needing to find out about liandrin. she was so excited when anvaere eavesdropped and then so mad when moiraine left before anvaere could tell her the news (but i reassured her by saying that moiraine is about to go to the same place as nynaeve & co who will be able to tell her)

moiraine: [is Mean to lan] mom: TUH! dad: he should just slay her

mom: so what does this tea do? me: allegedly it will show mat his past lives mom: but it might be a trick me: ishamael DOES call himself "father of lies"

my dad was like "that was cool!" after mat's bad trip, which is among his biggest reactions to anything, other than "[chuckles] that was a good one!" when egwene said "renna i will kill you"

ishy: i just want to close my eyes and never have to open them again mom: so kill yourself then 🙄

911 ishamael's also been found murdered. i think she could put the forsaken in line honestly, "you have a silly hat" "kill yourself" she's just not having any of their shit. i hate to compare her to cadsuane, but it's kinda giving cadsuane.

lanfear's dominatrix outfit did get more appreciation this time though when the silly hat was not present ("they had fun with her costumes")

rand: i need your help lanfear mom: ??????? doesn't he know she's evil???????

"she could at least say something nice to lan 🙄" when moiraine fails to say something nice to lan after getting unshielded thanks to him

lanfear: [broken amyrlin line] mom: is she broken??? me: i think she just meant metaphorically, not physically mom: oh. but their love is broken :(

episode 8

my dad actually put his laptop away to watch this episode with his full attention. this is high praise! he never does that!

mom: who's that? [dain] me: the whitecloak perrin spared when he escaped with aviendha mom: i don't remember that me: we watched that YESTERDAY mom: 🤷

she did remember after another moment though haha but that supports my impression that ep5 was A Bit Too Much New Info for her to take in all at once

lanfear: rand i'm the only one who truly cares about you mom: i don't think THAT'S true!

when perrin tells hopper to stay there: "he's just going to leave his dog out in the desert with no water???"

mom when lanfear calls ishy sweetheart and strokes his hair: wait was he the one she was in love with????? me: no it was rand's past life, that's why she's obsessed with rand mom: rand's past WIFE???? me: LIFE

babe wake up new polycule just dropped (lanfear/ishy/lews/ilyena)

she GASPED when renna cut off egwene's braid! as she should!

she said "too bad min isn't here" during the episode (she thought it would be helpful if min could tell mat what would happen if he were to touch the dagger; i was like "i think he knows it would be bad mom" lmao) and after the episode she anxiously asked if we would ever see min again, dammit mom don't you dare become a min stan on me jdkfgh (although, the fact that she thought we might not see her again indicates it's 0% on her radar that min might be anyone's love interest, which is interesting! a number of show-onlys were at least expecting her to be mat's i think)

nynaeve: i'll make you regret the first kiss your mother ever gave your father mom: [delighted] that's a creative one! dad: there are a lot of nasty women on this show and only one nasty man [ishy] me and mom: TUH!

although he is not wrong to say that s2 was the season of Female Villains and Women Being Mean (and i loved every moment of it!). don't you worry dad, rand's gonna be stepping up to fill the Nasty Man Quota soon enough. and i can't wait!

dad when rand is watching egwene from a distance: he's not doing a good job of hiding me: at least his cloak is the same color as the wall dad: well his dumb face isn't

why is he SUCH a hater when it comes to poor rand jkdjfg please, that's your future son-in-law!

they both were repeatedly pressed about everyone carrying the horn box (or rather "the briefcase" as my dad called it) out in the open

mom: they need to just put it in a sack! me: they don't have any sacks on hand! mom: there's plenty of sacks lying around!!!

she keeps thinking that rand got the heron-marked sword from his mom, and when she saw that turak had one she was like "but i thought those were the swords of the aiel?" and i cracked up imagining how offended aiel would be to hear her say that

she missed rand killing all the seanchan because she was too busy asking me the above question, but when she looked back at the screen she went 1) "oh, this is so gory" 2) "did RAND do all that????"

she was sad about ingtar, she was like "ohhhh, i liked him :(" imagine caring about ingtar, could not be me jdkfg

me: so lanfear is talking about the seals of the other forsaken, she wants this guy to throw them all in the ocean because she doesn't want them to be released mom: why doesn't she just do it herself? me: me: me: i don't know, actually..................

(maybe she just wanted them gone stat but didn't want to leave falme for even a moment while shit was going down with rand and ishy? or maybe she was like, I'm Too Hot And Iconic To Get My Hands Dirty Doing Things Myself)

mom as soon as renna's shown to be alive, after egwene's picked up the collar: she should go put the collar on her!

she been knew again!

mom at the mat-perrin reunion: put the spear down before you hug him, you'll stab someone by accident!!!!

she was glad to see egwene get her vengeance, but added "but now i bet she'll feel guilty for killing someone because she's a good person :("

ishy: [talking about what rand did in his past life] mom: rand doesn't even remember that! rand right on cue: i'm not lews therin!

i warned her "you might not want to look" just before hopper's death, but she did look, and she was very sad. as was i!

she thought that one of the heroes of the horn was stepin and i told her it wasn't (it was just some random guy with similar hair) but maybe i should've let her keep on believing it because it's a nice idea!

mom when the spear goes through ishy and hits rand: OH NO!!!! just like min said!!! me: [vibrating with glee over The Great Cauthor Stabbening]

when ishy said "i'm sorry old friend" to rand here my dad said "that sounds familiar" and i was like what's he talking about? but then realized that's what LTT said to ishy in the cold open!!! my heart!!! thank you dad for catching that parallel, i gotta go make a gifset now

"how is one guy holding off all these soldiers by himself?" mom i cannot believe you of all people would doubt lan!

she laughed at rand being like "[half-dead] who are you???" but made no comment on the subsequent romantic shot of elayne. however, after the episode she was like "'who are you?' rand said................is something going to happen with him and elayne??" and i was like 🤷😁😁😁😁 and then she said "but they both have red hair, are they from the same place?" and i told her that elayne is not aiel and not ALL redheads are aiel lmao and maybe i should've just said "you'll see" but. i don't think it's a spoiler to confirm that elayne is not aiel.

she does not believe that ishy is really dead, and she kept asking me if he was really dead and if he shows up again later in the books and i swear, the three oaths possessed me in that moment and made me incapable of saying "yes he's really dead, no we don't see him again in the books". so i just kept shrugging which probably made it obvious that indeed, this is not the last we see of him haha

mom when moiraine starts weaving fire in the direction of the tower: what's she doing?! everyone's up on that tower!!! me: she's not trying to BLOW UP RAND mom: oh

at some point during all the battles she was like "now what's lanfear up to during all this? 🤨" a good thought to have always!

at the end of the episode: "now we have to wait a whole year or two for the next season!!!!!" she's hooked!!

favorite character roundup: my mom said lan is #1 and egwene is #2, and she also loves loial, and she said that she didn't care for perrin last season but likes him a lot now. my dad said his favorites are "the tree guy" (loial) and "the new woman at the end who's more powerful than anyone we've seen so far" (moghedien! that one was a surprise to me. tumblr 🤝 my dad. i hope he'll enjoy The Season Of Moghedien next season! tho it could also be that he just said her because she was the last character we saw and he'd already forgotten all the other ones lmao)

#wot #wot on prime #the wheel of time #wot show spoilers #wot book spoilers

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theteasetwrites · 1 year

Text

The Dixon Problem

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 1 (The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning series) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: swearing, mild violence ❧ Word Count: 5k

❧ Summary: Not everyone is happy with the Dixons’ presence in the camp, especially Shane. When things go haywire, the only solution is a compromise, and to let Daryl know you care.

❧ A/N: I realize I’m posting this after a weird little argument over the ethics of zooming in on a man’s crotch but here we are. This is a fanfiction blog, believe it or not. Anyway, here’s another fic set in the same universe as The Beginning (I really like doing these ok), and this one takes place between Chapter 4 and Chapter 5. I really wanted to do some oneshots that would’ve happened before they got together because idk it just seems to cool to read about them before they kissed at the CDC and sort of build up to that. I find it fun to hint at their burgeoning attraction to one another, and how they’re both kind of in denial about their little crushes lol. We all know it was love at first sight. Also I loved writing Daryl fighting with Shane it was so fun. Daryl should’ve punched Shane in the show don’t @ me.

A deep huff escaped your lips as the back of your hand wiped the dripping sweat from your brow. The sun was a few hours from setting, but Georgia summers were unforgiving, and even a setting sun would prove to be dangerous if you didn’t hydrate.

Taking a sip of water from the crinkly plastic bottle, you watched Lori skillfully sew up the rips in one of Shane’s shirts. It was a skill you had neglected, but at one point, you were pretty good with a machine. Hand sewing was something else entirely.

“You’re so good at that,” you said. “How’d you learn?”

Lori smiled as she looked at you, staring in awe. “My mom sewed, my granny sewed, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my great granny sewed, too.”

“That’s sweet… Maybe you could teach me sometime?”

“Sure, but I thought you were trying to get Mr. Crossbow to teach you how to hunt?” She spoke with a crooked smile, on the verge of laughing. You failed to see what was so funny, frankly.

But mostly, you were embarrassed. The warm blush on your cheeks and the butterflies doing somersaults in your belly betrayed you, though you just pretended none of it was there.

“Well, he, uh, said I should learn how to fight first. He said he’d teach me that, though.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm… Why are you laughing?”

Lori lowered her head until her hair covered her face, but you heard a few snorts and giggles from beneath the dark curtain.

“You’re so cute,” she said. “That’s all.”

“Cute? Why am I cute?”

“You just are…” She leaned closer to speak in a quiet voice. “I bet Daryl thinks you’re really cute.”

You scoffed, trying to laugh it off as you awkwardly nudged her shoulder with yours. “Stop. That’s not funny. Not true, either. I think he finds me annoying.”

“Oh, really?” she asked. “What about the little rock he cracked open for you? That doesn’t sound like the actions of a man who’s annoyed.”

That “little rock” was now your prized possession. You had one half, and you’d let Daryl keep the other. It was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to you. That rock was a geode, something your father would’ve added to his extensive collection. Maybe you were thinking too much into it, and maybe it was cliché, but you liked to think that it represented the last beautiful thing in the world. You kept it by your cot, on full display so it was the first thing you saw each morning. Sometimes, the translucent purple shards would catch the new light that streamed through your tent in just the most perfect way.

“He was just being nice,” you said. “Daryl’s… really nice. I mean, he’s a little… grumpy, but he’s got a good heart. I can tell. I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t think so.”

Before Lori could respond with another teasing quip, you both flinched at the sound of Daryl, the man you were just talking, and thinking a little too deeply, about. His voice was raised, one decibel away from being a yell. It sounded like it was coming from the center of camp, near Dale’s RV, so you both jogged over, anxious to see whatever was causing Daryl to yell a series of curse words and a few other words you couldn’t yet make out.

“Stupid cop!” you heard, now getting closer. “Who the hell do ya think you are?! This ain’t Miami Vice.”

You stumbled upon Daryl, with his chest puffed up and his hands moving vigorously along with his hostile words, in some kind of argument with Shane, who only shook his head with his hands on his waist as the bowman hurled insults his way.

“Listen, Dixon,” replied Shane, who was visibly also beginning to lose his temper, “we gotta maintain some order ‘round here. Now, I don’t give a shit ‘bout what you and your white trash redneck brother used to get up to in bumfuck nowhere, but there’s women and kids here, and I don’t want this shit ‘round ‘em.”

Oh, noble Shane, you thought to yourself, but then again, you still had no idea what the men were arguing about, so maybe he had a point. Still, you did take some issue to being compared to a child, but you weren’t about to jump in the middle of a fight between two burly, hotheaded men for the sake of feminism.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?! It ain’t nothin’, Merle goes off into the woods to do it! Ain’t no women or children gonna get hurt. You’re just as stupid as you look, Columbo.”

“It ain’t them seein’ the drugs I’m worried about,” Shane replied, getting closer to Daryl until their chests were nearly touching. “It’s you and your ugly ass brother.”

Drugs? You knew Merle had a stash of drugs, including crystal meth, and most others figured it based on, well, everything about him, but you didn’t think Shane would pick a fight with Daryl over it. Maybe Merle himself, but not Daryl. Merle wasn’t even there that day, having taken his turn to go hunting, though he never brought back nearly as much as his brother. You weren’t sure if it was because Merle wasn’t a very good hunter, or because he just didn’t care enough to bring back food for your group, but either way, it was clear which brother was better.

“Man, that’s bullshit,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at Shane. “You wanna see a threat then look in the mirror. There’ll be a big arrogant prick starin’ back at ya.” Daryl punctuated his sentence by shoving the other man backwards, but before Daryl could strut away as he planned, Shane shoved him back.

“Watch yourself,” Daryl warned, voice low and raspy. “I don’t want your pig blood on my hands.”

He tried to brush past Shane, but the man was fuming. He shoved Daryl back once more, knocking him to the ground.

A puff of dirt swallowed his body as you let out a small gasp of disbelief. No one in the group had gotten physical with anyone like this yet. Maybe it was only a matter of time before it happened. After all, a group of several strangers under incredible physical and mental stress in the middle of the end of the world was a recipe for disaster, but you’d hoped it wouldn’t happen so soon.

All you could register was the sound of Daryl’s grunting before he sprung back up to sock Shane across the face, disorienting him. He soon struck back, but Daryl ducked and delivered a blow to Shane’s stomach.

Shane had managed to deliver a few blows of his own, but at this point, all you could focus on was thinking of a way to break them up without getting hurt yourself.

“H-hey!” you shouted out, along with Lori and several other women who’d gathered around, yelling to the men to stop. “Stop it!”

Dale was frantically climbing down the ladder of the RV, then greeted the scene with wide eyes. “Hey, hey! Break it up!” He managed to get his arms between the two of them, but he could only keep Shane back. Daryl even tried to get around Dale so he could deliver one last blow to Shane’s face, but T-Dog came up behind and pinned the enraged man’s arms back.

“Get offa me!” he yelled to T-Dog, then turned his attention back to Shane. “I’m gonna beat your ass, you hear me, bacon bits?!”

Dale stood between them, holding his hands out to keep them both at bay. Their chests swelled with heavy, panting breaths as their faces molded into their own unique scowls. Shane’s was terrifying, much more than Daryl’s. His dark brown eyes didn’t need to narrow at all, they were just as terrifying in their wideness. His mouth wasn’t agape, it was sealed shut as the breaths pumped out of his flared nostrils. He stood completely still, like a ticking time bomb. You’d never been more terrified of the man.

Daryl paced back and forth for a few feet on each side of him, his face much more natural looking, but still enraged. At least you could make some sense of Daryl in his anger. He didn’t send a shiver down your spine like Shane did. Well, and maybe you were a little partial to Daryl now, since he’d shown you kindness. In any case, the awkward silence that permeated the stiff, humid air was excruciating.

“Just calm down,” panted Dale, arms still outstretched between them. “What the hell is going on here?”

Shane huffed before speaking. “I was just tryin’ to have a civil conversation about the drug use goin’ on in this camp.”

“Drug use?” questioned Lori. “No, no way. No drugs, not around the kids. That’s the last thing we need right now.”

Daryl turned to look at Lori, not with anger, but confusion. He seemed troubled, unable to reconcile something in his head. His eyes squinted shut as he wiped his nose, which had just begun to bleed from the punch. He spat a glob of pinkish saliva onto the dirt ground, then turned back to face Shane.

“Talk to Merle,” was all he said. His voice was quieter now, almost timid, but still with an air of defensiveness.

He turned back again, in the direction of his tent. You met his glance for a moment, at which point he seemed to stop in his tracks. His foot backstepped, flashes of blue still on you until they averted to the ground. When he regained his focus, he moved quicker, more determined. Still, his confidence seemed drained after he looked your way, but all you could pay attention to now was Shane, who was walking directly towards you, huffing and puffing.

“What the hell were you thinkin’, bringin’ those meth heads here, huh? You stupid or somethin’? I thought you were some kinda… librarian.” He ended his sentence with a sarcastic chuckle.

Before you could respond, Lori spoke up, and thank God she did. You were still petrified by Shane’s aggression, and Lori knew him from before the fall. Maybe he’d actually listen to her.

“Stop it, Shane,” she scolded in an almost motherly tone. Fitting, since the argument between him and Daryl seemed more like that of children than two grown men in their thirties. “It’s done. No point in arguing about it.”

For your part, you took a moment to collect your thoughts, then spoke to Shane with as much bravado as you could muster. “It’s because of Daryl that we’re not starving to death,” you said.

Dale stepped forward, hand outstretched slightly to gesture towards you. “That’s a good point, but what about the drugs?”

You shook your head profusely. “I don’t know anything about any drugs.” That wasn’t true, you knew Merle was getting high, and that he was a dealer, but that honestly didn’t matter to you much at this point. As far as you were concerned, everything that had ever separated the human race from each other was out the window. Drug addicts were no different from Mormons now. Granted, Merle could be unpredictable, and you hated him, frankly, but Daryl and Merle seemed like a package deal, so you’d have to deal with both of them if your group was to reap the benefits of having a skilled hunter.

Plus, you might’ve fostered a bit of admiration for him. Friendly admiration, of course.

“Well, I just ain’t havin’ no crystal meth in this camp,” replied Shane. “And I’m about this close to killin’ your buddy, so’s as far as I’m concerned, this is your problem to solve if you wanna keep them here.”

Diplomacy wasn’t your strong suit, but if it kept Shane from kicking out the Dixon’s, you’d try your best to find some common ground.

“Compromise,” Dale said with a nod. “(Y/N), you should talk to Daryl, ask him to talk some sense into Merle when he gets back to camp. We give them shelter, they get rid of the drugs.”

It sounded more like an ultimatum than a compromise, but you were perhaps the only person who’d had any meaningful contact with the slightly more tolerable brother, so you put aside your reservations to head to the Dixons’ camp, several yards away from the rest of the group.

He was on one knee as he chopped the head off a squirrel on the sawed log he was using as a butcher block. The sound of the axe slicing through the flesh and digging into the wood was so powerful that you flinched, alerting the hunter to your presence.

Though he didn’t look your way. He simply set aside the axe and continued skinning the creature as if you weren’t there.

“You want a piece of me, too, woman?” he asked. “Whatever you gotta say, I ain’t in the mood.”

You bit your lip as you stood still, thinking of what to say. Daryl was tricky, you knew that. Sometimes he was nice to you, and sometimes he wanted nothing to do with you. No one in the camp knew how to deal with him, really. You only knew a little because you somehow found yourself trying to ingratiate yourself with him, but why? You still weren’t exactly sure.

“May I sit down?” you blurted out, thinking that might be the first step to talking to him.

He looked up at you then, with a suspicious glare.

“Why?”

Just as you were still trying to get used to talking to him, he was still trying to get used to your desire to talk to him in the first place. Why would a woman like you want anything to do with a man like him, anyway? Surely you had an ulterior motive, though he couldn’t deny there was something genuinely kind and soft about your face. Maybe even, dare he say, pretty? Not just physically, though he was painfully aware of that, but through and through, you were quite lovely. Well, that’s how it seemed, anyway.

Merle always said that women couldn’t be trusted, that if they weren’t childlike and dumb, they were manipulative and cunning. Nothing else, nothing in between. Of course, Daryl had a hard time believing that. People weren’t that simple, and Merle’s authority on the topic of women was questionable at best. Still, old habits die hard, and maybe he was just a little skeptical of your intentions. After all, no woman or man had ever shown this much interest in talking to him.

Daryl was, for all intents and purposes, a loser. He still felt like one, though he had to admit, when you brought him to your camp, insisting that your group needed him, he did feel a small sense of real, genuine pride, for the first time in his life. Maybe he had something to offer, something good he could do. Maybe you really wanted him there, and he wasn’t just a loser with a bad temper and a meth head brother.

His deeply ingrained insecurity, though, told him otherwise, and that you were only kind to him because of what he could offer your group, not because you actually appreciated him. But then again, the rest of the group had all but ignored him since he arrived, and you were the one who’d spoken more than five words to him at a time. That had to mean something, right?

“I want to talk to you,” you said simply. “So, can I?”

He chewed his lip as he looked you up and down, as if inspecting you. Wordlessly, he nodded, then lowered his head again to focus on the mutilated squirrel.

As you cleared your throat, you sat yourself on a dinky camping chair across from the fire pit. Both of you were silent for a little while, with only the sounds of flesh tearing from the muscle of the little furry critters Daryl was skinning. You watched with furrowed brows, though at a certain point, you had to stop looking, otherwise you’d get a little woozy, so you lifted your gaze to the top of Daryl’s head, covered in short, choppy brown hair.

Surprisingly, just before you were about to say something, Daryl spoke first. “I ain’t no meth head,” he said abruptly. “I don’t touch that shit.” Not anymore, he thought, but something stopped him. Could it be… embarrassment? Maybe shame. All he knew was there was a part of him that cared what you thought, for some odd reason. He’d trained himself not to give a damn about anything, though it was in his nature to. Why was your presence bringing out his sensitivity? It was a blessing and a curse. It hurts to care, he’d always thought. Nothing good could come of it. He cared once, before he knew how cruel people could be.

“I never said you did.”

“S’what you all think,” he replied. “Y’all think I’m some kinda… stupid redneck bastard.” Wouldn’t be wrong, a voice inside him retorted.

“I don’t think that.”

He finally raised his eyes again, glowering at you. “You will.”

It shouldn’t have hurt you, but it did, just a little bit. “I bet you I won’t.”

He shook his head and stood up to retrieve the red rag that was often dangling from his back pocket. Wiping his hands, he nodded towards you. “What’d ya really come over ‘ere for? They send ya over to kick me out?”

You shook your head immediately. “No, no. Not at all. Just… You need to tell Merle to quit with the drugs.”

Daryl scoffed, almost a laugh. “Askin’ Merle to give up crystal’s like askin’ him to cut off his own hand. ‘Sides, ya don’t think I’ve tried? Ain’t no use in it. Might as well jus’ kick us to the curb ‘cause it ain’t gonna happen.”

His apathy frustrated you, and you let out an exasperated, now quite irritated, puff of air. “So you’d rather live out in the woods by yourselves than in a group, with people who will look out for you?”

“None of these people will look out for me,” he scoffed.

“Well, I would.”

He looked your way again, this time not suspicious, but confused. “Why’d ya bring me and Merle here in the first place? All ya got to show for it is bein’ yelled at and bossed around by that asshole Shane.” He spat the man’s name out in obvious distaste.

“I told you,” you said, “I thought you would be able to help us… And you saved me. I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for you.”

He lowered his head again, busying himself by cleaning between his fingers with the rag in the hopes of distracting you from the obvious blush on his cheeks. When he didn’t respond, you realized you hadn’t asked him a similar question.

“Why’d you save me, anyway?” you asked, your voice a little more quiet, as if afraid of him even hearing it.

After all, you were a complete stranger, why should he have helped you? What you knew from human nature was that people often only helped others if they knew there was something in it for them. True altruism was hard to come by, and often not evolutionarily beneficial. Those who helped others and put themselves in danger often died out before their lineage could carry on. Well, that was your vague memories of anthropology class resurfacing, but it still applied.

Indeed, you yourself hadn’t been acting out of true altruism. You had decided to bring Merle and Daryl into the fold because they were hunters, and they could benefit your group by providing your people sustenance. But Daryl’s motivations were less clear.

He swallowed hard as thought for a moment, himself now forced with the reality of facing that question. Why did he help you?

For the next several moments, he transported himself to that day just a month ago, when he was trudging around in the woods outside Atlanta, listening to Merle ramble on about some drunken memory, a relic of his “glory days” that he seemed unable to forget about. They had no destination, no idea where they were going. They’d tried the refugee center in the city, but that had been overrun about as soon as it was set up. Merle was quite content to rough it, and so was Daryl, so long as there weren’t flesh-eating monsters roaming around.

When he heard the rather faint sound of a woman screaming, somewhere ahead in the maze of aspen trees dotting the humid forest, something in him switched, and though he remembered the muffled sound of Merle’s protesting, all he could hear at the time was the scream getting closer and closer.

Soon he was in a small clearing, setting sight on a decrepit creature. Below it were two squirming legs, belonging to the screaming woman who was just inches away from becoming something’s lunch.

Without hesitation, he lifted his bow to shoot, snagging the creature in the head until it fell less than gracefully onto your chest. Pushing the body off, you faced him, mouth panting and eyes hazy with tears.

He tried to think of what he thought then, but it was difficult to put himself in that position again. He only remembered your face, how scared you were. You seemed so fragile, and yet somehow brave enough to look him in the eye. Most of all, you were peculiar to him, different from anyone or anything he’d seen before. Of course, there was nothing particularly strange looking about you, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. You were just… special, with a calming aura of warmth around you, something he was instinctively drawn to for whatever reason.

So, how was he supposed to explain that? You seemed special, important, warm… Creepy. He knew that would’ve sounded creepy. He was already embarrassed from Shane’s display earlier, and his stomach stung to think of you seeing that cop strike him across the face, to appear weak. Once again, he wondered why he cared in the first place.

He finally settled for a somewhat satisfactory explanation. “S’just what people do.”

Indeed, he would’ve done it for anyone. That wasn’t the issue Daryl struggled with, he knew right from wrong, for the most part. He struggled with understanding why you looked at him the way you did, and why he found himself wanting to keep you safe even after the creature attacking you was long dead.

At least you seemed happy with that answer, as one corner of your lips upturned into a small smile. “Well, I am sure some people wouldn’t have done anything. I’m really grateful… And I really don’t want you to go. Merle… I will put up with him if it means you stay here, but if you could please talk to him, try to get him to at least hide the drugs better and maybe go further away from camp to do it, I’d be even more grateful.”

Though he had no idea how he was going to get Merle to agree to changing anything about himself, he couldn’t deny that you were convincing. Something about your wide, almost pleading eyes. Somehow, making you happy seemed to make him happy, too.

“I’ll try,” he said. “But I ain’t promisin’ anything. Merle don’t care ‘bout what I got to say.”

“Well, he should,” you said as you stood to your feet. “He’s your brother… I have a brother, too. We used to talk all the time, though we sort of lost touch before all this.” You gestured around vaguely, ending your sentence with a small nervous chuckle.

Daryl almost didn’t speak, didn’t want to ask what he was thinking, but the look on your face as your lips began to droop and your eyes became vague made him wonder if maybe you needed to talk about it.

“Where is he?” he asked simply, though he immediately began to regret it when he noticed you shifting awkwardly where you stood. “I mean… I, uh… Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you replied with a shake of your head. “No, it’s fine. He’s, well… I don’t know where he is. Last time we talked he was in Atlanta. Actually, that’s why I was headed there when it happened.”

It seemed to be a universally agreed upon signifier. The fall, the turn, the apocalypse, the plague… Everyone called it something different, but what it all came down to was The End, or The Beginning, depending on who you asked.

“Sorry,” was all he could reply, though he found himself going further, speaking more than he normally would’ve. “Hope he’s all right.”

That meant more to you than anything anyone had ever said to you since the world turned. You hadn’t told anyone about your brother, and you weren’t sure why you decided to tell Daryl, but it felt right. In a world where everything was suddenly wrong, lots of things still felt right, all of which had to do with him. Strange.

“Thank you. I do too. He means a lot to me… I’m sure your brother means a lot to you, too, so I understand why you care so much about him. He’s lucky to have you as a brother.”

If Daryl wasn’t so strangely calmed by your presence in this moment, he might’ve protested to the assertion that Merle meant a lot to him, but he supposed he really did, whether or not Daryl liked it.

As he shifted his shoulders, he raised his hand to scratch his neck, chewing the inside of his bottom lip all the while. The unique little nervous mannerisms he had were already becoming part of your ever-growing encyclopedia of quirks Daryl displayed, and you had to say you found that quite endearing. Indeed, you truly felt that Daryl could become a friend. You wanted him to be a friend.

It reminded you that Daryl spent almost all of his time alone. Whenever Merle was gone or at the edge of camp getting up to his illicit activities, Daryl was by himself. You figured he had to get lonely, and surely the sole company of a man like Merle would eventually drive him insane, even if he was his brother.

“Daryl?” you asked, moving closer as you tried to telepathically direct his gaze up at you.

He did, and a flash of silvery blue eyes that caught little sparkles of light from the sun looked up at you. His eyes were quite deep set and narrow, making them seem at first glance to be cold and uninviting, but that wasn’t really the case at all. Now that you saw them in full view, there was mystery there, something waiting to be revealed. You had a feeling whatever it was, it was something lovely. Your curiosity made you eager to get to the bottom of it.

“Yeah?”

Even the strange softness of his often rough, gravelly voice struck you. As he licked his chapped lips, you found yourself trailing your eyes to his light stubble, sparse on his cheeks but more concentrated around his lips, which weren’t particularly full, but beautifully sculpted as if by delicate, intentional little hands. You found his face much more tolerable than his brother’s. Handsome, even. Perhaps not an A-list Hollywood movie star (certainly no one so clean-cut as Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt, both of whom you had at one point hung posters of on your closet door in the mid-nineties) but he had been blessed with good proportions and a pleasant visage that you only dwelled on for a moment until your subconsciousness took the image into its darkest recesses. The last thing you needed to do today was to admire a man’s physical appearance, though it did tempt you for just a few seconds. Maybe a few more.

“You should really join us for dinner tonight,” you said. “You know, around the fire… Dale’s going to make something special. I have no idea what, he says it’s a surprise.”

When his breath seemed to hitch and his muscles flexed in seemingly anxious response, you quickly tried to explain yourself. “I mean, I know it’s awkward, with the Shane thing… but Shane has watch during dinner tonight. Maybe you can just… talk to me, and Dale, Andrea, Amy, Glenn, Jacqui… We all sort of congregate, talk a little bit. I’m sure they’d like to get to know you more.”

He found himself wondering how to respond, how to tell you that he hated talking, especially to people he hardly knew. Then again, he liked talking to you. That was clear to him.

“Maybe… I dunno.”

Though you didn’t want to pressure him, it was hard not to try to convince him. You were shy sometimes, too, but the older you got, the more you realized that you needed people, and that couldn’t be more evident than right now, when people were hard to come by.

“All we have is each other,” you said. “You told me that the world’s never gonna be like how it was, and you’re right. We should never take people for granted anymore.”

He’d never wrap his head around the way you spoke sometimes, how you could be so articulate and intelligent, and at other times, so high-strung or bubbly or aloof… You were about as hard to read to him as he was to you.

“I’ll try,” was all he replied.

“That’s all that matters.”

When he briefly lurked around the fire that night, exchanging a few brief words with Dale and Andrea (and you, of course), you felt like you’d gotten somewhere further with the temperamental hunter.

He didn’t stay for long, and hardly ate any of Dale’s “mushroom mash,” but it was something, and though the day started with a fight between Shane and Daryl, it ended with the latter feeling just a little more welcome.

Most of all, you had no regrets about bringing Daryl Dixon to your camp. You had a feeling it was the right thing to do.

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Masterlist

#the walking dead #the beginning series #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon fanfic #twd fanfic #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus fanfiction #the beginning oneshot #theteasetwrites oneshot #theteasetwrites fanfiction #theteasetwrites series

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faceofpoe · 2 months

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"Don't make the same mistake twice."

Because I am fully in camp 'Clone Operative dude is someone devastating under that helmet' do not clown us all on this writers and a spiteful at condescending assholes on Reddit hopeful part of me just really wants it to somehow be (saveable) Tech so we can have a reunited-for-one-last-fight-full-Batch-back-together finale-

The narrative argument for somehow-Tech-returned:

(also see: my (much shorter) narrative contemplation for Cody)

I have a sneaking suspicion that our character development focus is going to shift from Crosshair to Hunter for the back half of the season. Crosshair feels a bit... done? He chose Omega over the easy out on Lau, he's owned up to making mistakes, embraced his place among the squad again ("much worse" than Hunter - lol), he's had his faceoff/heart-to-heart/mutual saving each other rapid progression with Howzer - yeah I imagine there are still things we're going to learn about what he went through/possible ramifications therein, but as far as accepting who he is/his place/etc I think we're winding down on his focus.

Bringing our attention to the end of ep 7 and Rex & Hunter's convo about walking away, and his convo at the end of s2 with Echo about an unwinnable fight and so on. He just wants to protect his squad but the walls are closing in, and Omega won't be content just running and hiding.

And this brings me to the end of season 1 and Crosshair's rather lacking motivational speech about why they should join the Empire finally - they're meant for more than wandering aimlessly as fugitives, etc, and he tells Hunter - "Don't make the same mistake twice."

Now in s3e5, in what felt like the galaxy's most unfinished conversation ever, Hunter tells Crosshair he has "regrets" - but what exactly are they?

Fleeing Kamino in Aftermath, presumably not.

But the number of times in season 1 when he's given the opening to revisit the whole "leaving our own behind" thing and just - doesn't? Everyone else starts in on the "wait maybe the whole thing was the chip?' convo in ep 3 and he shuts it down to focus on the crisis at hand. He later says he's mad at himself for leaving Crosshair behind, and Omega says they'll find a way to get him back and he nods but - I don't think the notion is ever revisited?

Rex emphasizes how the chips are impossible to resist.

They *see* what it does to Wrecker.

Howzer refuses to flee Ryloth with them because he won't abandon his squad - knows they're good men, hopes he can convince them that they're not doing the right thing. We get a brief contemplative look at that, and the look back at Crosshair after they flee but.

After Kamino and after Bracca, sure, maybe the risk of even trying to get to him would seem too high - but we never even get a conversation about it, about finding a way to recover Crosshair and get the chip out now that they know how to do it.

He's also the most skeptical one about the Plan 88 message even after a presumably decent chunk of time has passed, after he knows the chip is gone, after Crosshair saved Omega on Kamino.

So - thesis, please - my narrative argument for wintersoldier'ified-Tech isn't about very mean visual teases callbacks, and it's not about undoing Tech's sacrifice or carving out room for a Tech redemption arc (because we wouldn't need it) (seriously this one baffles me, what?) -

It's about Hunter getting the chance to not make the same (actual) mistake twice, writing off one of his squad as a lost cause and leaving them behind.

(I'm also still really hung up on meeting Phee on the line "Better late than dead" but that's a different conversation)

Thank you for coming to my Tech talk.

#help we're entering 'poe left unattended with tbb' territory that's traditionally been reserved for andor #the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #bad batch #bad batch spoilers #look I can't fathom how dude could have survived there was literally a whole cable car falling on top of him #but like #this fucking show lol #this is the part where someone is going to point out a very obvious conversation I've forgotten about that discounts everything I just said #but until then #lol

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three--rings · 8 months

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OFMD and Rime of the Ancient Mariner

I have to shout out @nonsensicalramblings79 who wrote their own analysis of the connections. It's very worth reading. But I want to talk less about symbols and more just bits of the poem that vibe with the season so far.

The "impossible bird" that Ed references in ep 1 immediately made me think of an albatross, because there was a sailor legend that albatrosses always flew across the ocean and never stopped on land.

And because there's a strong connection between sailors and albatrosses, most famously as a result of Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (1834).

So because the other post linked above didn't quote the actual poem much, that's what I'd like to do to point out WHY it feels like this is an actual connection.

First of all, the poem takes place At a Wedding, in which the Ancient Mariner is a fairly unwelcome guest. We learn at the end that he is cursed for the rest of his life to forcibly spill out his story to people when he sees someone who he's Meant to tell. So he's talking to a Wedding Guest in the middle of a wedding party.

It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin; The guests are met, the feast is set: May'st hear the merry din.'

This is how it begins. The mariner has a "long grey beard and glittering eye." Okay, Ed-core. He's at a wedding and stops this bridegroom's next of kin, who complains why are you making a fuss, the party is going on right now, they're going to hear you. Definitely evoking Ed crashing the wedding in ep 1.

So the Mariner was on a ship, a storm came and blew them off course, then they saw an albatross in the sky and were able to get free of the ice. I find it interesting that the albatross:

It ate the food it ne'er had eat, And round and round it flew... And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariner's hollo!

The albatross ate the food it had never eaten, it flew around and came everyday when they called it for food and play. This evokes Ed and Stede in their honeymoon days on the Revenge, Ed trying new food, them playing different roles and eating good meals...

Then more fog and ice came and so the Mariner shoots the albatross. Everyone is happy about it because they think it brought bad weather until they become becalmed. We get the most famous lines of the poem:

Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink.

That has nothing to do with OFMD it's just Good Poem. I do find the next stanza evocative:

The very deep did rot: O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea.

Very Kraken-y. It will come up again. The crew decides the Mariner did this to them by killing the albatross that had been their friend and good luck. They tie the bird around his neck as a mark of his crime.

It goes on to describe them all dying of thirst and how then Death comes on them and all the men on the ship, 200 of them, die EXCEPT for the Mariner. All of them die looking him directly in the eye, cursing him in death.

Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony. The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I.

So I said the slimy things would be back, the Mariner is relating himself to them, again like Ed and the Kraken. Here we get to the part of the poem that is about the Mariner's inability to die. He's been cursed and so he cannot die, despite his desperate situation. This is where it really resonates with Ed in the early eps of S2. He desperately wants to die. He feels he is a curse on humanity, which he acts out in his violence, and also a curse on his crew, who he is ruining. He wants to die but cannot, despite all his attempts at getting someone to kill him.

An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high; But oh! more horrible than that Is the curse in a dead man's eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die.

He tries to pray, but his heart is "dry as dust" and he cannot. But after seven days he starts watching the snakes in the water and enjoys the beauty of the world around him, and the albatross falls off of his neck and he can pray. He prays and basically a spirit or God or Mary answers him. It rains and he drinks water and then the corpses of the crew, which have not rotted at all, stand up inhabited by spirits and begin working the ship again. Wind carries it back to his home.

Yeah zombie sailors, dead men crewing a ship, WAY before Pirates of the Carribean.

So anyway, eventually he hears two voices speaking on the air.

'Is it he?' quoth one, 'Is this the man? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless Albatross. The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.' The other was a softer voice, As soft as honey-dew: Quoth he, 'The man hath penance done, And penance more will do.'

I find the lines about the spirit who loved the albatross, who loved this man, who shot him. So the Mariner killed something who loved him, and that was his sin that brought the curse on him. But now he's done penance and will do more and that's why he can be saved.

Could make a connection to Ed shooting Izzy, but also it feels like Stede is also the albatross, but rather than Ed killing him, the albatross failed to love him? IDK Maybe Stede is the spirit who loved Ed the albatross and Blackbeard killed the Ed that Stede loved....that fits best. And it's the spirit who saved him ultimately. As Stede in mermaid form saves Ed.

Getting to that, the boat approaches land.

Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed The light-house top I see? Is this the hill? is this the kirk? Is this mine own countree?

Lighthouse imagery, of course. So a boat approaches this ship, with a "Good Hermit" in it. The ship however basically cracks in half and sinks right in the bay, and they fish the Mariner our of the water and think he is dead, but he wakes up and scares the crap out of them. Then he starts to row for shore.

'Ha! ha!' quoth he, 'full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row.'

They call him The Devil, which I point out because Ed calls himself that.

Basically he tells his whole story and here is where we learn he's compelled to tell his story when he meets the right people. He closes by talking about how alone alone alone he was and how he appreciates being with people and walking to church with them, going to a wedding. And also learned how important it is to cherish all creatures in the world.

And finally the Wedding Guest who heard this whole story:

He went like one that hath been stunned, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.

IDK I just like this image of being sadder and wiser when you wake up in the morning, which again feels evocative to how Ed is going to wake up maybe?

IDK. I don't think we can say "oh clearly they had this poem in mind while writing these episodes", but they feel to me like they were written with this somewhere in the back of their minds. The reference to the impossible bird feels very much like a literary reference to an albatross, which would immediately conjure the "what happens if you kill an albatross" from this poem.

If you're still reading, hope you enjoyed this little journey into poetry. I'd encourage you to read the whole thing. It's very very weird and unique.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd meta #poetry #rime of the ancient mariner #my meta

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jakeyt · 6 months

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Covet: Chapter 8 (Part 2.2 of 2)

PART 1 OF PART 2

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in.

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); smut (!!); angst; substance use (marijuana); unprotected sex (p in v); CONSENSUAL sex (p in v) under the influence of marijuana; jealousy; negative self-talk; oral sex (f! receiving); anxiety; intense feelings of sadness; abandonment issues (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 21.3k (i’m very very sorry)

a/n: CLIMAX TIME! woooo!! i’m sorry for another mf 2 parter… thanks to tumblr’s fucking paragraph limit (*screams*)🫠. the entire chapter is 43k words long (didn’t mean to do that—sorry 🥲), so this is almost exactly half of it. BUT, never fear, I will be posting part 2 to this tomorrow, as it is COMPLETE and ready to go… but we’ve gotta keep up the anticipation, right? lol <3

please heed the warnings. there is some sex under the influence in this chap, and although it’s COMPLETELY CONSENSUAL, I know some may not like that (we are all different and that’s ok!).

HUGE thank u to my girls @joshym & @alwaysonthemend for putting up w me all the mf time and being dope ass beta readers and friends and agghhh... you two are the realest aaaand ilysm 😭

one more thank u to @welightthefire for being the most beautiful, incredible source for an upcoming situation in reader’s life. ily <333

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤

enjoy!

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 17, 2022

You did your best to ignore the vibrating phone in your back pocket.

Text after text kept coming in, begging you to check.

You knew who it was. With the way you heard every other brother’s voice except for his from the living room (or kitchen, wherever they were) and how desperate he’d been for you to not find out.

But, instead of giving in, you just stared at yourself in the mirror, willing the ridiculous tears pooling in your eyes to stay at bay. It would be pointless to start fucking crying. There would be zero sense in crying over this. There was no relationship to fall apart after finding out about this.

You hadn’t been cheated on.

So why did it feel like you had?

Because you’re a fuckass with your emotions, y/n, the lovely voice in your head told you. You need to learn how to be a stable adult before anything else. Things need to end. None of this is fair to Jake or his budding career, either. Do better.

Fuck. You didn’t want to end things with him.

But you knew it was right to get out of it before you became any more entangled. You knew going in, that what you had wasn’t meant to last anyway. Being with Jake–fucking him–it was just a temporary thing.

It wasn’t going anywhere. This was a short season. A blip in time. An indulgence.

Nothing more.

But it fucking hurt to be honest with yourself about that.

Fuck. Stupid.

Jake had done a fantastic job at maintaining the agreement. All he’d done was be a good friend– someone to fuck around with. That was all he was and all he’d done for you. He had not broken any boundaries or any of your ridiculous rules.

The one who had let all of that fall to the wayside had been you.

So you didn’t want to look at the texts. Didn’t want to see him apologizing for something that he didn’t have to explain himself out of.

As tears ended up falling down your cheeks (because no matter how hard you tried to get them to stop, there was no stopping them), you realized that you were the only one to blame for the way you were feeling. You’d let him become your safe place. Your anchor. The person you longed to be around (and with) most. . .

You realized that, most of all, you were angry. Angry with yourself. It would be stupid to be upset with him. He’d done nothing wrong.

If he was fucking her, that wasn’t any of your business. Like you kept reminding yourself, there was no relationship, and he was allowed to do whatever he wanted with other women. And it was definitely not his responsibility to explain anything – make you feel better for something that was your own fault.

You’d let yourself get too attached. Plain and simple.

It wasn’t Jake’s fault that you’d put your guard down enough to feel so jarred and shocked by this revelation. This was on you. And you weren’t sure if you should apologize to him or just start separating yourself from the situation.

Start separating yourself from him.

And fuck, there were the tears again.

You got some toilet paper to wipe your face, and took deep breaths. As you were measuring your breaths, you cleaned up the mascara that’d made a mess under your eyes.

When you had these stupid crying fits, if you could find the strength to do it, it'd always helped you to focus on something that brought you pure joy. But, unfortunately, you’d put yourself in a bit of a hard place at the moment.

Because the thing—the person—who brought you the most joy in your life currently was the same one you were crying over.

The only other thing you could think of was your cat.

Stevie. Who’d, thankfully, followed you into the bathroom, trotting behind you as she’d probably sensed that you needed her. She was a damn smart cat.

So, you sat on the edge of the tub to pet her where she sat on the toilet seat. You were super fucking grateful for the little fluff ball. Her icy blue eyes found your crying ones, so she leaned her head in your direction, signaling for you to pet her. Then, she started purring, which brought the sort of serene calm that only a cat’s purr could. The vibration from her body to yours was bringing you back down to earth, reassuring you.

Then, as you were petting her, you felt your stomach pinch and twist in a way that usually signaled your least favorite, bloody aunt.

Of course.

As you sat to pee and assess the cramps, you thought about it all, glancing at Stevie’s sweet face as she now sat across from you on the ground, licking at her paws. Things would be okay. They would. This situation with Jake wasn’t as serious as you were making it out to be.

Right?

You just weren’t fucking ready for the way it was undoubtedly going to hurt first, in order to be okay in the end.

After peeing, you lifted the toilet paper to see if you were truly that unlucky. And, you were met with what you already knew to be true: you were on your motherfucking period.

Your life was going just great.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You’d thought it best to head to bed early, claiming that your terrible cramping stomach was causing you pain. (It was true– your period was good for something, at least. . . get you out of the room that had been suffocating you all night.)

All of the boys had seemed a little down about you leaving so soon, but you just bid them all goodnight and blew kisses in all of their directions. You were trying very hard to just act like your normal self. It was time to come back to fucking earth.

You had purposefully ignored Jake. You hadn’t looked at him at all after coming out of the bathroom, and your pocket buzzed with texts a couple times. But you kept it hidden in your back pocket.

When you’d gotten to your bedroom, you’d taken a Midol, willing the cramps to stay at bay. And when they started fading, you decided to try to sleep.

But all you did was lay there, staring at the ceiling.

You could hear the boys talking in the living room. All about their upcoming festival that coming weekend. You were longing to be out there with them, but you just let yourself lay in your bed and listen to the little pieces of what you could hear through the door.

A lot of talking from the three that didn’t live with you occurred (well, mostly Sam and Josh), but Jake stayed oddly quiet. He was always one to jump in on music talk— especially if it had to do with the music he was making.

Every now and then you’d hear his input, but it happened very little.

You’d almost fallen asleep when you heard two hushed, familiar voices talking outside of the bathroom, which sat right next to your bedroom door. Through the blurriness of your opening eyes, you looked at the door through which you heard them.

It was Josh’s you heard first.

“What is going on?”

Then, Jake.

“What do you mean?”

A little huff-growl came from the charismatic mouth of the curly-headed twin. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, Jacob.”

When you heard Josh’s little growl through the thick wood of the door, it was a little funny. He was always so fucking dramatic, and you loved that about him. But it was simultaneously why you were scared as hell for him to ever find out about you and Jake. So, through the door, you willed Jake to play it cool.

Quit wearing your emotions on your fucking sleeve, Jake, you thought, annoyed. There’s literally no reason for you to be upset.

“I’m not,” Jake persisted, his voice stern enough to convince someone who wasn’t you (or his twin). “I’m just worn the fuck out.”

The last part sounded real, though. You could sense the slight weariness in his tone. Were you wearing him out?

“Is it Maya?” Josh questioned. “You got all up in arms when Sam brought her up. Are you still seeing her? I was honestly convinced you weren’t.”

Huh? Surely Josh would know if Jake was still fucking her. . . And if he didn’t know, surely it wasn’t happening. . .

The hope that momentarily rose in your chest was embarrassing.

Because, just as soon as it was there, you were reality-checking yourself.

Josh also had no clue about the two of you, so. . .

Maybe Jake was just doing a stellar job at blocking some of the telepathic wavelength they normally shared. Fuck if you knew.

“I guess you could say part of it is her,” Jake responded. “Saw her the other day, you know.”

“Oh?” Josh wondered. “I thought you couldn’t date clients.”

“We’re not dating.”

“You’re involved.”

“I guess,” Jake said, relenting.

Fuck.

“What do you mean you guess?” Josh challenged. “Are you or aren’t you?”

“It’s more complicated than that, Josh.”

Complicated? Goddammit. How had you been so oblivious to him being in a complicated arrangement with another woman?

“No it’s fucking not.”

“Yes it is,” your roommate insisted.

And there he was, getting sensitive in reference to this woman, yet again.

“Jesus fuck,” Josh exasperated. “Whatever it is, you need to pull your shit together. Get it figured out because it’s clearly a touchy subject. And you and I both know now is not the time to get all up in arms with Sam about something like this.”

“I know,” Jake conceded. You envisioned him nudging at his nose with his pointer finger, shaking his head to himself. You’d spent so much time recently watching his reactions to things. . . you were becoming a pro at his mannerisms (when you definitely shouldn’t be).

“Now is not the time to be getting involved with anyone— especially if it’s just a quick fuck,” Josh emphasized the last part. Your heart lodged in your throat. “You know better, Jake. And you know that now is the time to focus on yourself rather than a woman– focusing on anything besides this monumental time in your life could hurt you.”

“Monumental,” Jake scoffed. “It’s just a festival.”

“You know it’s not. God, this is what I mean!” Josh said, his voice raising a bit. When he spoke again, he was back to using a muzzled tone again. “Quit acting like that. You’ve waited your whole life for this.”

“Josh, I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“You don’t want another Amelia situation— where you become so obsessed with a woman that you move to Illi-fuckin’-nois, put yourself on the fucking back burner, and give up on the thing you love the most. Because when you do that to yourself, you do it to all of us, too.”

Amelia? There was no question to who Josh was describing. Putting a name to his ex girlfriend was strange, to say the least. By hearing her name, she seemed more than just a figment of history. Giving her a name made her that much more real – and it made everything else feel so much more real along with it.

The reality of your situation. And you’d be damned if you were the reason he gave up his fucking dream again–you’d known it was a possibility for him to do the same with you as he’d done with her. And Josh saying all of this made you feel completely validated in all of your original fears.

You refused to be the one that ruined everything for them– for him.

And to be viewed in such a negative light as Amelia was to Josh. . . that fucking terrified you, too.

“How dare you fucking bring her up? This is not the same fucking thing. You know that, Josh.”

“Are you sure? Because based on how you acted when Maya was brought up, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Josh scoffed. His voice softened when he added, “Can you just fucking look out for yourself—just a little bit?” He pleaded, his voice breaking a bit. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. Fuck, Jake. I would just really appreciate it if you cared about yourself the way you deserve–.”

You heard another snicker from Jake.

“Stop it,” Josh sternly stated. You heard a muffled ‘ow’ from Jake. Had Josh hit him or something? Damn. “I’m tired of being the only one to care about your happiness, Jacob. You know I will continue to be here for you–always, but I need you to take this time in your career seriously. Don’t let an unstable relationship get in the way.”

In that moment, you knew that where you’d stood since the beginning in believing how important Jake’s career was had not been in vain. It was his dream—his career. . . His livelihood. It was also completely apparent that you had been correct in knowing how Josh would feel about an arrangement like the one you and his brother had going on.

The entire thing had been a foolish, selfish idea. . .

You could slap yourself for giving into the temptation.

Eventually, the conversation between the twins faded out. A couple of slightly dismissive “okays” from Jake and “I love yous” exchanged between the two.

Then, you were met with the noise from the living room again. Planning, planning, planning from the four men. . .

And you were stuck in the still, quiet darkness of your room, making a plan of your own as the moon highlighted your covers and Stevie’s body curled in a peaceful, sleeping state.

Oh, how you envied your cat and her obliviousness to the stark, upsetting reality of life.

The entire interaction outside your bedroom between your best friend and the man you’d centered your life around as of late. . .

It sealed what you knew you had to do.

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 19, 2022

You were deeply regretting being at this fucking music festival.

The busyness of everything around you was making you feel like a little bug— with fluttering wings that were about to get stomped. Ironically, your body was buzzing like an insect— from the inside out.

Your old friend, Anxiety, was along with you for the ride. Also Elsie.

And your cramps.

Thankfully, you’d waited to come until later in the day. The boys had been there all day, but you’d chosen to not go when they did, and instead wait for Elsie’s plane to get in at the airport so you could get ready, then arrive together. You were slightly shocked that she showed up on a sort of whim. But she’d been insistent on being at the festival to support Josh and witness this “big step” in his career.

They weren’t performing until early evening anyway, so it would’ve been pointless to stand around while they busied themselves doing whatever the bands were supposed to do beforehand.

By the time the two of you had fixed yourselves up to attend and found your reserved place on the lawn, it was very nearly packed full. The security was, thankfully, super kind in accepting your VIP badges, so your anxiety didn’t flare up as bad as it could have as you made your way to the spot at the front. And having Elsie there helped a ton.

But, combined with the mass amount of sweaty bodies and non-stop chatter and drunk singing and dancing around you, you felt your skin crawl, and as if you were about to combust from the inside out. These crowded places were not your forte, but you couldn’t pass up being at these shows.

Elsie was right– this was a big step.

And Josh had been right when he’d told Jake it was monumental.

You’d seen the lineup. You knew who’d be performing at this festival– band names that any random person on the street would know. Not Metallica-type bands. . .not yet. But popular groups nonetheless.

Jake’s dream was coming true, and you had to be there to witness this. To experience it alongside him. While you could.

But, as you looked to your left, on the left wing of the stage, you saw them.

Her.

Her beautiful, bronzed skin on display in her black dress. Her perfectly shaped hourglass figure being complimented by the short length, and the deep V at the neckline.

No VIP badge like yourself, but she was backstage with him. Did she arrive with him? They were talking animatedly, her hand naturally resting on his arm when she’d say something. Her boisterous laughter every time he would say something. (He is most definitely not that funny. Fucking tryhard.) Even as he tuned his guitar, she stood there. And without fail, he would glance up every now and then to add something. . . or to simply smile at her.

It made your stomach lurch. You felt like you were going to be sick.

And, of course, Elsie caught on. Her observatory brain catches everything.

You hadn’t seen her watching them with you, her eyes darting back and forth between you and them as you were stuck in your watchful trance. But you knew, as soon as she grabbed your tricep that she’d been tuned in to your reaction at the entire display.

“Who’s the new fling?” Elsie’s joking voice pulled you from where your stare had been placed for the last several minutes.

Suddenly, you felt extremely on edge and defensive. Anger heated your blood to a boiling temperature.

“It’s none of our business, Elsie,” you snapped.

“Oookay,” Elsie scoffed, flipping her natural curls back behind her shoulder. She crossed her arms. “You can’t pull that shit on me. I saw you fucking watching them– making it your business. Just answer the question.”

“Bold of you to assume I even know her name,” you rolled your eyes, playing it off the best you could.

The way she leveled you with her eyes reminded you how stupid it was to attempt hiding anything from your older sister. (Again, her observatory mind misses nothing. Even when you wish it would at times.)

You sighed, pushing a hand through your hair to wave it away from your face. Sweat was accumulating on your forehead, right at your hairline. You felt gross. “Her name is Maya.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, squinting as she tapped her chin. “Maya. . . okay. How long?”

“Apparently since he moved here,” you replied, trying to keep the emotion from your tone.

She gave you a look that said she knew better, but didn’t give you a hard time. (Praise God.)

“Wow,” she blew out a long breath through her lips, the color of mulled wine. “And then he fucked you midway through fucking her?”

You flinched at the wording. “Damn, crass much?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she retorted. “You talk the same exact way as me, bitch.”

“Whatever,” you said, annoyed by her, but comforted by the familiar banter. You missed her being around. . . so much. “And yes, the timeline seems to allude to that.”

“Does that upset you?”

You were glad she had the decency to pose the question. . . even though you knew she wanted to outrightly state what she already knew to be true.

“No,” you derided. “It’s just his classic asshole behavior,” the words felt wrong coming from your mouth. You knew he wasn’t an asshole. Moments in time, of him talking to you, comforting you flickered through your mind like a reel. You tried your best to cover it with another dismissive (yet truthful) response. “And, we’re not together now and we weren’t together then. He’s had every right to fuck whomever he pleased.”

“Mhm,” she grinned, still narrowing her eyes at you. But, she played along, her blue eyes catching sight of something behind you for a few seconds. “Well, however you’re feeling— I can tell you right now that he still thinks you're fine as hell.”

It was your turn to scoff, pursing your lips, painted in the same lipstick as hers. “What encouraged you to say something so asinine?”

“Not asinine,” she snarked, looking over your shoulder to the left wing again. “I’m literally currently observing this man devouring you with his eyes.”

Your skin heated, but you didn’t want to turn around. At the present moment, you didn’t know how to feel about him looking at you that way. Did you want that? Yes. Should you want that? Absolutely not. Especially after you’d found out what had been happening behind your back for the entirety of your escapade– shit. No. Not behind your back. He hadn’t been keeping the fling a secret. He simply didn’t need to make you privy to it. There was no reason.

In the back of your mind, you heard your obnoxious voice stating your rules for him (and now reminding yourself what had been set in place).

“No questions or comments about dates the other one may have. It’s not our business.”

The last four words were ringing in your head, whether you wanted them to or not. Still, it made your heart sink to think that he was looking at you and Maya the same way. . .

Fuck. Don’t. Cry.

“Sis?” Elsie’s attentive voice yet again brought you out of your funk. “Talk to me.”

Your sad eyes were impossible to hide. It was getting harder and harder to fake in front of her. But still, you shook your head and mouthed a ‘no’ while also sniffling to dry up the tears.

“Okay,” she soothed, conceding for the time being. “But I’m not going to lie to you and tell you he’s not looking right at you. He hasn’t stopped fucking staring for the last several minutes.”

Truly not able to help it, you glanced over your shoulder to where you’d seen him before.

And she was completely correct. You felt the way his eyes burned against your skin, enveloping every piece of skin he could get his eyes on.

Admittedly, there was plenty of skin for him to gape at.

What you’d chosen to wear was pretty hot. A couple weeks ago, you’d ordered a few pieces online for the festival. Funnily enough, Jake had even given his input on some of it as you’d been leaning against him on the couch as you placed the order.

“You’re going to look so fucking sexy,” he had said.

Those words are like a broken record playing over and over in your mind as you position yourself just so, popping your hip a bit in a way that makes your ass look really good. (If he was going to stare, why not make a little show of it?) It was a white piece that he had ultimately helped you decide on.

(White was honestly an extremely risky move considering your current, fucking crampy situation.)

You hadn’t planned well according to your stupid ass cycle. Going off of your birth control, months prior, had thrown you ridiculously off track of your cycles.

Nevertheless, this (tiny) outfit was what you wanted to wear– what you’d gotten specifically for this occasion. So you were going to wear it, dammit. Knowing that festivals called for outfits on the more daring side, you’d gone all out in wearing as little as you possibly could.

The shirt was almost a halter top, but completely opened around your back and in the front. The only thing keeping your round breasts from being completely exposed, two pieces of fabric, connected at the neck. Although, your cleavage left little to the imagination.

A delicate white corded rope wrapped around your body connecting the only two pieces of material that made up the entirety of the top. So, your chest was covered, but very nearly bare, nonetheless.

Taking advantage of the exposed skin of your tummy, you opted to add a circle of sparkling rhinestones around your belly button. A little something special you planned a while ago that you hadn’t told Jake about, leaving it to be a sexy little surprise for him.

The wrapped skirt, low-waisted and very short, made it easy to showcase the body jewelry Jake had specially picked out for you.

You’d asked if he had any requests for the outfit since it was his event. And his only request had been to incorporate a little bit of body jewelry.

“To highlight this beautiful, magical body,” he’d said, reaching a hand around you to reach under your t-shirt. He’d traced a finger from your sternum, then below your breasts, and all the way to cross your tummy and hips. “I wanna see you sparkle underneath that bright sun.”

“And if it rains?” You’d turned, raising your brow and nudging his nose with your own.

He’d played along, and then gave the tip of yours a light peck. “You’ll still sparkle,” he’d smiled, making you feel so warm and cozy . . .

So, here you were, wearing the gold, belt-like chains that twinkled in the summer sun.

There was one delicate chain that started as a dainty necklace at your throat, and trailed between your breasts, which accumulated in more pieces at your waist. The suns dangling from one piece added to the summertime vibe, and the other sparkly chains glistened against your skin. You’d even sprayed some sparkly body spray to add to the color of your sun-kissed, golden hue. Your makeup, lighter around the eyes, only some sparkly shadow and a slight wing to accompany your long, mascara-coated lashes. Hair in loose curls.

You’d wanted to look good for him.

And your ego was elevated by giving you his attention at the moment— even though Maya was standing there, right next to him. Albeit, she was busy talking to someone hidden behind the curtain, but his gaze was planted firmly on you. She could look up at any moment and see it. He wasn’t trying to hide the way he’d fixed his eyes on you.

Even from where you stood, looking at him, halfway turned around. . . you could see how dark his eyes were, studying every last bit of you. You’d gotten used to seeing them darken like that. . . You were familiar with the way he was looking at you. His lids were drooping over his eyes, which raked deliciously from your white heeled boots, all the way up to where your own eyes were still watching him.

When your gazes intertwined, you felt your cheeks flare pink. Your breath caught in your throat at how he was intently poring over you. Your stomach tied in knots and your panties got wet when he bit his lip, winked at you, and subtly adjusted himself behind his guitar.

Fuck, Jake, you licked your lips, biting your lower one softly.

He looked hot as hell. His long, chestnut locks, flowing perfectly around his face with the occasional breeze. His black shirt, completely unbuttoned, showing you so much of his immaculate, golden chest and abdomen. Your eyes lingered on that solid abdomen— the same one that pushed just right, against you, as he would lay over you, fucking you with all he had. And his black jeans, tight against his glorious thighs.

When you saw him reach in his back pocket for his iPhone, he didn’t drag his lusty stare away until the very last second. Until he had to. Almost instantly, you felt your clear, festival-approved bag buzz against your hip.

It was definitely embarrassing how quickly you snapped it open and looked at the text awaiting you on the screen.

I really should turn the previews off, you thought absentmindedly, promising yourself you’d get that done soon, so as not to get caught exchanging these texts with him.

Little bit late for that, the stupid voice in your head shoved itself into your moment. It won’t even matter soon.

But you pushed that critical voice the hell away. Just for now.

When you opened your thread of texts, you avoided the texts from previous nights, still not wanting to read where he’d checked in on you. It was pointless to do so. And what awaited you below them was much better anyway.

Jake, 5:45 p.m.: I am rock fucking hard for you right now

Dammit.

Jake, 5:45 p.m.: how am I supposed to concentrate when you look like that in the crowd?

How am I supposed to make it through an entire performance of yours, so close to the stage? Watch you fuck your guitar and wish it was me. . .

Jake, 5:46 p.m.: One wrong move and those tits are out

Jake, 5:46 p.m.: goddamn. I need to bend you over

Fuck, Jake. Quit it.

You squeezed your legs together, crossing them to alleviate the way you were throbbing.

Jake, 5:47 p.m.: I can’t wait to get you the fuck home after this thing is over

You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking of every bad, horrible, terrible thing you could. And when you opened them, you let out a breath you’d been holding in. But the pulsing happening in your underwear was still making you feel hot, sweating from more than the evening sun.

But when you glanced back up, he was gone.

Half of you didn’t want to text him back, afraid he’d gone off with Maya to relieve himself. Though, to your relief, your eyes found her, still standing there, talking to a crew member.

She hadn’t gone with him. . .

You tried texting him, reminding him of the sad, current truth of your body.

You, 5:48 p.m.: I’m on my period, Jake. Lol. You know this.

Jake, 5:49 p.m.: I know. I haven’t stopped thinking about it, actually.

Jake, 5:49 p.m.: I want you so fucking bad

Jake, 5:49 p.m.: do you want it?

Fuck. What did you say to that? You’d never had a guy want sex with you during your period. . . And the fact that he wanted it? Was willing to do it? That was fucking hot.

But you were conflicted since your period was your one way of staying abstinent from him. . . Fuck. You’d forced yourself to deny him because you were on your period. You’d even told him you were in hopes that he would be too grossed out to tempt you. But he wasn’t grossed out. He wanted you, still. . . And you needed him. . . so bad. . .

What would the harm be in just giving in to it tonight? Maybe attempting to have sex and forcing yourself to eliminate feelings while doing so would be helpful. . . a way to sort of ween yourself off of sex. (Fucking ridiculous, huh?) You decided you’d take time to think about it. Let the show play through first.

It was completely against what you knew you should be doing: breaking all things off.

You, 5:51 p.m.: How about we talk after the show?

You’d waited for him to respond, but he never did. It would have normally worried you, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was at a music festival. Chances were, he was busy. They were also set to perform at six. You knew that much. And, right at 6:00, you were proven correct as you heard the beginning of screams and the beating of a bass drum. Before you looked up, you sent one more text.

You, 6:01 p.m.: Break a leg!

-🌼🌼🌼-

And break a leg he did.

There’d been a few mishaps. Josh’s mic had gotten turned off midway through a song, Sam’s bass had been overbearingly loud at the beginning of the set, and Jake’s cord had initially had trouble picking up through his amp.

You’d watched the first two incidents happen, hating it for the guys that they were having technical difficulties. But when Jake’s problem had occurred, you were feeling every bit of anxiety with him. You wanted to jump over the barricade and help him in whatever way you could. Ease his stress.

But when his face had flashed with anger every now and again (very subtly— his professionalism impressing you), your cheeks had flushed at the way he’d looked so heated. Then, when he’d ended up yanking the cord from his guitar, his hand flexing around the cable, gripping it with all he had. . . You couldn’t stop what accumulated between your thighs. And when his lips had curled with a small growl, right as he turned around to switch guitars, giving up, your heart started beating, quick. Right below your breasts, rising and falling with every sharp breath you took.

After that, he’d had no more issues, but you’d kept a closer eye on him than before (if that was even possible), for the rest of the set. There was literally nothing you could do from your spot, but just keeping a watchful eye made you feel better.

Though, he never looked out to find you, even though he knew exactly where you stood. In fact, he stayed rather focused on his brothers only. He watched them closely, looking as though he was ready to help if the need were to arise.

But there hadn’t been another problem for the four men.

In fact, the rest had gone on without the slightest hitch. The way they seamlessly played off the mistakes was incredible, too. It truly showed their dedication to the art.

And the difficulties they’d encountered only added to the grand finale. . . The song you’d always associate with the first night you finally got what you’d so badly wanted. . .

Edge of Darkness.

Though, as much as you wanted to look at Jake (and the rest of the guys, of course), you had to look behind you to the hoards of screaming people. All of the women that were shrieking for them— it wasn’t a new thing, necessarily. . . But you were only used to the people who frequented small hole-in-the-wall shows.

Not full-on festival goers.

Not actual fans, reaching for one another, pointing their friends in the direction of a certain guy, doe eyes directed at each of the boys they’d scream for.

Then there were the bras that were being thrown at the stage, over and over again. That was pretty funny— you couldn’t lie.

But what wasn’t funny was the person watching from the opposite side of the lawn as you. She had her own section, too, maybe?

From where you were standing, you weren’t sure if she did or if she was just GA. . . Surely if she’d been backstage she had a special place, though. . . If you were right in your assumption of her arriving with him, then you were sure that she had her own designated spot to stand. But why on Sammy’s side? Now your mind pwas running rampant. . .Had Jake been watching his brothers during the show? Or watching her when he’d looked that way?

Fuck— it didn’t matter.

All of this information you were trying to figure out. . . was just making your stomach churn. The way she watched him, biting her lip with a wide smile during his solo. Her eyes trailed his body in blatant admiration.

Because she knows what’s underneath those clothes, the voice in your head reminded you. You’re not special. Can’t you tell?

But what really got you lost in your head, was when she started singing along with Josh. She knew the fucking lyrics. Every last word. As if she’d heard them a hundred times before.

That wonderful voice in your head suddenly reminded you of the fact that he was teaching her to play guitar.

What if Jake was teaching her their songs during her lessons? What if she helped him write some of the material? What if. . . some of them were written about her? She had inspired him. . . of that you were almost completely sure. How could she not? She was fucking beautiful. She was not you. He would be insane to not feel inspired by just looking at her.

Your mind began running far, far away from you with all of the unknowns surrounding the ever present mystery that came with Maya. Wrapping your arms around your body self-consciously, you looked back at the stage to try your hardest to enjoy the rest of the show.

You knew you were probably overthinking it, that it more than likely wasn’t that deep. But, anything was possible. And the way he had kept his involvement with her a secret for so long, (and if it weren’t for Sam, you’d probably still be blind to the fact that anything had ever happened between them) there were clearly things he didn’t want you to know about with her, or he would have brought it up. Despite your stupid fucking rules you had set in place. You knew he would have told you if he wanted to.

It became increasingly obvious to you at that moment, watching Jake live out his dream on that stage with his brothers that you were most definitely not fit to live out the dream with him. She seemed to be so much more involved in it than you had ever been. Or tried to be. So selfish of you.

Maya was so enthusiastic, so attentive to him beforehand. All day long, while you’d waited on Elsie, so as not to go to this event by yourself and look strange as the guys did their shit. How stupid was that? It sounded utterly foolish now. Because she hadn’t worried about that, coming no matter what, to be there with him.

Supporting him while you were being selfish at home. You were so concerned with other senseless things that you couldn’t be there with him to show him actual support. The necessary change, which lingered like a dark cloud over your head, just kept becoming more and more apparent. . . It would be foolish for you to not end things when it was obvious they needed to end.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When the show ended, Josh texted Elsie.

No text on your end from Jake, but you tried not to overthink it.

Josh had wanted you two to meet them backstage to get the “full experience,” as his message had iterated.

Then you were being ushered by security, who had apparently been told to locate you and transport you, filtering you into the area where the guys would convene after the show.

Before you had too much time to stand and appreciate the space around you, you noticed Jake pass you, angrily. Storming off somewhere, it seemed. Your eyes followed him helplessly, worriedly. He didn’t even acknowledge you, his brothers trailing after him, but presumably giving up as they stopped in front of you and Elsie instead.

It was excellent timing, though, because just as they’d come to a stop in front of you, Maya was coming up behind Josh, tapping him on the shoulder. Her long, inky waves billowed out like curtains around her heart shaped face. She seemed just as flustered as Jake had been. But where his was out of anger, hers was with an air of concern.

“Where is he?” She’d asked, hastily, her brows drawn in with worry.

Fuck. Even her voice was effortlessly majestic. Without being able to control them, you felt the prick of tears behind your eyes. Your heart was going a million miles an hour. What did she know that you didn’t? Why was she so involved? Were you simply the one he wanted to fuck and sext?

Why did it feel like it was just a little more than that with you? Had it been more than sex, ever? Was that something you’d conjured up in your head?

Josh had just rolled his eyes, motioning over in the direction in which he’d gone. “Over there somewhere, I guess,” he said. “But you’d be wise to let him be. He’s in a shit fucking mood. I told him time and time again he needed to replace that amp cable. He just wouldn’t listen to me.”

She groaned and placed her open palm on her forehead, she scratched a well manicured finger to her shapely black brow. “I knew he would have an issue with that one of these days. I just hate that it was here.”

She knew about it? About his amp cable that had apparently bitten the dust? It was like watching an entire new part of his life unfold before you, a part that you were not good enough to be involved with. Mundane things that only the people closest to him were aware of– but not you.

You started feeling ten levels beneath her rank in Jake’s life. She was stories above you; you were obviously just a free pussy for him to park himself in when he needed it. A warm place for him to come home to, that was it. And you, so fucking willing to give it to him. His beautiful, sculpted body always made you so goddamn weak.

You had remembered the texts you had gotten earlier– how badly he wanted to fuck you, despite your monthly visitor taking up residence. You’d thought it was so sexy that he still wanted to, that he was desperate to have your body tangled up with his no matter the circumstance. That had turned you on beyond all imagination.

But now, as you were beginning to realize what you had meant to him in comparison to Maya. . . the feeling disappeared. Hell, she probably received those exact same messages as you, maybe even more. Maybe he had already snuck off somewhere to fuck her before you showed up.

There was just so much you didn’t know. Your thoughts were swirling like a storm ripping through the sturdiest house, destroying everything deemed safe in its wake. He felt safe. Now, it all felt demolished. Maya was the perfectly ominous storm cloud blocking your rays of warm, shining sun.

All you wanted to do was go home, take a Midol, curl up under your blanket with your heating pad and forget about it all. Forget about Maya, forget about the festival, forget Jake.

Maya was then gone, running in the direction of Jake while quickly thanking Josh as he gave her a half smile with a “yeah, no problem,” leaving his tensed lips. His love stricken eyes were glued to your sister, relieved to see her. It was obvious he was only concerned with her being there, rather than Jake’s pissy theatrics.

He also lacked any emotion at what was happening behind him. As if it were the norm. The beautiful woman who was being shown by security where to go, being led directly to the man that had given her more of himself than he’d ever even thought to give you.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Hours later, as you sat in your bed, face washed and in a giant t-shirt, sweatpants, and fluffy socks, you wished you could just go to fucking sleep.

You’d tried reading a steamy romance to distract you, but that had been a witless idea as all that had done was make you cry. The characters, hopelessly in love, looked like Maya and Jake in your head– so meant to be and written in a way that left them utterly transfixed with each other. Your brain was fucking wired and going crazy.

I knew this was a risk.

I knew emotions were bound to get involved.

I knew that I was going to get hurt one way or another.

You’d already cried plenty once you’d arrived home. What had started the onslaught of tears had been seeing his door, hanging open like it had been earlier, as he’d left in a flurry to make it to the festival. He’d kissed you before he’d left, and you’d bid him good luck. Your body had been filled to the brim with reassurance that things weren’t completely off. That maybe you had overthought some of the way you’d felt in the bathroom on Wednesday. Maybe you’d misunderstood him and Josh.

You felt like a fucking moron, now, for getting butterflies at the interaction. Any time he’d ever kissed you, that same fluttery feeling occurred in your tummy, and it all felt ridiculously in vain now. Completely misplaced wistfulness and giddiness.

Why had you gotten your hopes up at all?

You had just decided to take an ibuprofen to help with your cramps and hopefully lull you to sleep (as it usually did), when you heard the front door quietly open and close.

You had heard your phone buzz a few times in the past couple of hours, presumably messages from him. Everyone else had heard you say you were going home. And you knew what Josh and Elsie were most likely up to, far too busy to text. . . But you had opted to just ignore them. You hadn't even bothered looking at the bright screen. You didn’t want to talk to him.

After a few moments, there was a soft knock on your door. Then another. “Y/n? Are you asleep?” He had asked, his voice so soft.

You didn’t answer. The tears that climbed your throat made you think better of that.

“Are you okay?”

Again, you didn’t answer. You decided to pretend to be asleep. To avoid him altogether.

Any other time, you’d be jumping down this throat, picking an argument over literally anything just to satisfy the hurt you’d sustained. But tonight, it was different. You just didn’t have it in you.

You didn’t have the energy. You were sad, not necessarily angry. And you wouldn’t dare let him see you that way.

Aside from that, you knew that if he advanced you the way he’d said he wanted to earlier, you’d give in to his allure. You knew yourself all too well. And that was the last thing you wanted to give him. You had no clue what you were anymore, so why in the hell would you risk doing that? Continue to give him more of yourself when he wasn’t giving you all of himself? If that’s what he wanted so badly, Maya would surely be more than happy to fulfill that for him.

“Well,” he started, his voice even softer than it was before. You could have ignored it. But, in spite of yourself, you hung on to each rasping word. “I know you’re probably asleep. I just– I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight and how glad I was that you were there. I always perform better when you’re there,” he cleared his throat, then continued. “Sleep tight, baby.”

You heard his footsteps lightly step away, heading to his room. You heard his door open and then shut soon after.

Like a flood with no dam to hold it at bay, heavy tears began streaming down your face. Your pillow was soaked with your emotions in a matter of seconds. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth in an effort to quiet the choked sobs as they came from your throat. You just wanted to sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 22, 2022

That following Monday, school started like you had been dreading.

But when the day came, you sort of accepted it as something that could alleviate some of your pent up emotions. Thankfully, you weren’t on your period anymore for your feelings to be raging.

However, they were persistently there. Mocking you for still being involved with him when all signs were pointing to him being involved with Maya, too. She was exactly what he needed.

You were a placeholder. Insignificant. Convenient.

So, when classes came along, they helped to bring some of your sense of purpose back. You were able to count on your coursework, professors, and peers to remind you that you were more than being free pussy for your roommate. You’d let your emotions guide you more into being angry than sad. It helped you to let them melt to a simmering ire.

For instance, avoiding Jake had been easier. You had been able to rely on your period, the temper that bubbled below your skin, your work schedule on Saturday, and a meeting that he and the guys had participated in the Sunday after the festival.

Of course, he’d asked if you were okay whenever you’d seen him, but you’d given him barely-there responses like:

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Thinking about a lot.”

“Hormones are just insane right now. . .“

“School’s getting ready to start, so I’m just gearing up.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Every time, he looked at you like he didn’t believe you were telling him the whole truth (how did he always know?). You knew it was a complete 360 from how vulnerable you’d let yourself be with him recently, but you silently relied on how long it had taken you to open up prior. Because you knew that he knew from experience that you didn’t like to overtly open up all the time. So, naturally, that also meant he didn’t push it a whole lot.

But you caught his glances– wondering and worrying about you. It was definitely fair for him to be curious, of course, but you’d just ignored his curiosity– pretended to not pick up on it. Acted oblivious.

He’d texted you good morning texts every morning, too. Which he hadn’t always done before. . . but it was like he was trying as hard as he could to get you to trust him with whatever was going on in your head.

All you ever did was send a small “Morning!” or “Have a good day!” back, though. . . Mentally all you could revert back to was that he was probably the same exact way with Maya. Acted concerned for her. . . wanted her to trust him and open up to him and sleep with him. . .

And you were sure it meant more to him with her. She was special. You were not. You were you.

Average. His roommate. Sometimes maybe a friend.

You didn’t know though. Because any time he had acted like it was more, it had maybe just been a weird ploy. Why he felt the need to deceive you in any regard– like getting to you and figuring you out and being close to you for no reason– that was beyond you.

You just knew people couldn’t always be trustworthy. Even the ones you wanted to trust most of all.

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 26, 2022

The bell on the door chimed, telling you someone was entering the shop, but you didn’t glance up to see who it was as you were in the middle of unpacking a random box of new vinyl.

You were just ready to get home. So ready to get off work. You weren’t even worried about Jake being there. You knew he had the day off, but you didn’t give two shits. He would cease to exist the moment you crossed the threshold of your home anyway. Your bed was calling your name from here. You were tired as hell.

The first Friday of every school year was normally tiring, but this one was worse due to the stressors of your personal life and the already-searing intensity of senior year.

“Hello, my love.”

That voice. It never failed to make your heart leap with delight. Your eyes were still tired, but your heart, now elated and full when you looked up to see Josh. For some reason beyond you, it just seemed entirely right for him to pop in. Felt like old times– before you worried about all kinds of shit. Him being present made everything feel tranquil in your current, opposite predicament.

And his next words tempted even more tranquility.

“I’ve got some fucking exquisite pot,” he beamed, one hand on his hip and the other balanced above his head, on the wooden shelf of records that you were stocking with more.

You giggled, your eyes blinking tiredly. “Where the fuck is it? You already smoke some?”

“Fuck no, little mama,” he shooed away your words with his hand. “I’m waiting to do that with you.”

How did he know that this was exactly what you needed?

“Way to show up and rub it in my face while I’m stuck at work,” you rolled your eyes, smile still sitting easily on your lips. “That’s just rude, Joshua.”

He snorted. “You’re like ten minutes away from being off the clock, drama queen. I’m just letting you know I’m on my way to your place with it. We’ll be waiting for you.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” You smirked, raising a brow at the Indie vinyl that you were tucking in its spot. “You and Mary Jane?”

“Technically, I guess,” he stated as if he appreciated the slight joke. “But the guys as well.”

You froze with your hand on the record you’d just placed. Fuck. Ugh. No.

That is literally the last thing I need, you thought, cross.

You grumbled under your breath, smoothing the top of the sleeve, trying to play it off. How could you convince him to ditch the others? The man who was the precise reason you wanted to get high off your ass? “What happened to the days where just you and I would hang out?”

“Now that would be rude of me to not include at least one of them. . . as Jake was the one to mention you needing something to ease some stress,” he picked at a nail. “And the other two are just always there.”

What? What all had Jake told your curly headed friend? Why was he even talking about you? He needed to mind his fucking business.

“He wanted you to get me high? That’s gentlemanly.”

He cleared his throat, prompting you to look at him. His wide eyes were narrowed at you, a look of judgment swimming in them. “No. . .? Why would you assume that? Jake would never suggest getting a woman high to calm her down. I personally just enjoy feeling like the fuckin’ air to alleviate my worries, so. . . I decided on the weed.”

His full eyebrows were still crinkled, mildly hidden by his growing hair. The curls touched the arch of his brow now, falling loosely over his ears. He finished with some words that cut through to you in a way you wished they wouldn’t. “He might be a dick sometimes, but he’s not all bad. You really need to stop thinking so little of him.”

Ouch, Josh. Stay in your lane. Don’t counsel me.

“Well, he’s the one who brought it up,” you said, tone still sharp and cutting through Stevie Wonder’s voice, ironically singing of being too shy to say things. “I just figured it had all been his idea.”

“Well, no,” he said, correcting. He backed up just a bit to lean against the front of the counter to talk from there. No one was in the store. Save for the fact you were talking about Jake, this felt so like the past. . . before everything. You could’ve cried (so much crying, Jesus). He crossed his legs at the ankle and arms at his chest. “All I told you was that he told me you were stressed and a little sad.”

Sad and stressed? Also, how did he know you were sad? That was a matter of assumption. Again, he needed to mind his damn business.

“Well, I don’t know why he’d go and assume I’m sad. That seems invasive as hell,” you began. “But I have been stressed. Why he’s telling you, I don’t know. But you already know the beginning of the school year is always a lot.”

Also, your brother and his girlfriend are all I can think about and it’s making me feel like dirt.

“I think he cares about you. Weird as it may seem, he has a soft spot for you,” he says, his eyes glinting and a little smile tugging on his full lips. “I mean, for God’s sake, he went to your grandparents’ house with you. . . He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t.”

Your heart was beating erratically in your chest. It didn’t matter. It didn’t fucking matter. For all you knew, he did the same shit with Maya. You weren’t special. But why did Josh taking the time to tell you this make you feel like maybe you were just a little bit unique?

You couldn’t help but ask your next question. You were hoping it didn’t give you away. But Josh was the perfect person to ask. . . Nonchalantly as possible, of course.

Continuing to sort through records in the massive delivery box, you avoided his eyes when you asked, “Doesn’t get soft for people easily?”

“One could say he picks his people. . . And I guess you’re one of them,” he offered as his answer. Then, you saw his hand grab into the box to help you with the records. You peered up to where he’d positioned himself in front of you. “And who wouldn’t go all soft for you, y/n? You’re one of the most precious humans this world has ever been given. I knew it was only due time until Jake noticed.”

As soon as he said it, he’d smiled, and decided to go about his business helping you. But you just kept staring at him. The tears that welled in your eyes were unavoidable. You needed to hear that. As you felt a few fall down your cheeks, you walked around the box to where Josh was now stocking a re-release of Lana Del Rey’s Born to Die — Paradise Edition on the old, creaking shelf.

He made a sound of surprise as you wrapped your arms around him in a bear hug, holding on for dear life. It didn’t take him long to adjust to the feeling, though, as he enveloped you all the same. His familiar, strong arms wrapped around you just as they always had in times like these. Times where he’d said exactly what you needed to hear without knowing it. He was an empath through and through.

And God were you thankful for him. You didn’t deserve him. Your tears continued for a bit, wetting his white t-shirt. Breathing in, and sniffing a bit to rid yourself of the tears, you backed away after squeezing him once more. His eyes were searching yours when you let go of him. Ever-attentive, reading you however he could whenever he felt the need. . .

“I’d say he was on to something,” was all he remarked, going back to the records. “Let’s get these done and get the hell out of here, what do you say?”

“Yeah,” you responded, your voice still wet.

“Oh, and speaking as someone who loves the fuckin’ shit out of you, I need you to start taking care of yourself and rid your life of what is making you feel so sad,” he softly advised. You glanced over to him, seeing him still going about his task, but talking away. “You deserve to feel happy and whole. . .and I need you to do whatever it takes for you to feel that way. Please take care of yourself, love.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Once you finished and were heading out the door with Josh, you decided that you were going to try your best to let yourself feel free tonight. It was what you needed. One last hurrah as senior year kicked off.

And one last night with Jake before you did what you knew you had to do. . . You had to be done with him. All it was doing was dragging you down. And, talking to Josh tonight had made you realize, once again, that you couldn’t chance him finding out about you and his brother. You knew he would feel utterly betrayed by you, and he was far too important to you for you to risk that.

Jake was also important— his career was shooting off and you were not the right person to join him on that new journey in his life. In your opinion, no one should join him on that journey. . . It was his and his alone. But if he were to have someone on that path with him, Maya was a much better candidate for it than you.

Chances were, she was probably the one that he wanted on that next step of his life as well. She was the ideal person to take that leap with him. Utterly supportive. Unselfish. Completely beautiful. . . The perfect girlfriend for a rockstar.

Continuing things with Jake made no sense. There was no use pretending that what you had with him was actually meant to last.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you got home, you immediately went to the bathroom to refresh. You decided to take off your makeup and wash your face. Knowing yourself too well, you knew it wouldn’t happen later when you were three sheets to the wind. Josh had followed in directly behind you. He started telling the guys what he needed before they began. He started with his long-haired twin.

“Food, Jacob?!” Josh yelled in the direction of the kitchen, from which you smelled delicious smells wafting.

“Aye aye, Captain Stick-Up-Your-Ass,” Jake replied loudly.

“And what did you decide to pick from your expansive catalog of recipes?” Josh said, slapping something. You could assume it was Sam when you heard the younger brother’s voice exclaim with an “ow!”

Then you heard Jake’s voice, like velvet, but loud enough for Josh to hear.

“Ramen bowls,” he called back. “She loves them.”

Your heart leapt at that. Why was he being so sweet? Was he like this with her? Remembering her favorite meals?

Because he was already making the food that Josh was demanding, Jake hadn’t taken notice of you when you'd come in alongside Josh. So you’d been able to slip past unnoticed. No one had acknowledged you, in fact. Sam and Danny had been too busy on the couch, flipping through their phones, showing each other different women on Tinder when you’d passed through the living room.

“Incense. Samuel, your job— did you bring any like I asked?”

Halfway paying attention, you heard Sammy give an agreeing grunt.

“Let’s start lighting ‘em up, then,” he commanded. He snapped his fingers, probably right in Sam’s face. “No time to waste, Sam. Come on.”

Then, grumbling, you heard Sam tell Josh to “fuck himself”. But you assumed he’d done as he was told with his aromatics, as you smelled the familiar heady scent of incense. The scent he’d chosen was Godsent. Ideal for your state of unrest.

The lovely scent of lavender was already whirling from the front of the apartment, straight to your room. Even with the door closed, you were catching the relaxing smell.

“God, I love the smell of lavender,” your roommate said, pure admiration in his tone. “Instant serenity.”

Sam responded, pride in his voice as he explained his choice. “We all know y/n has been stressed,” they all know? “So I chose lavender for its properties to cleanse, heal, and bring happiness. I was also considering its elements for peace, harmony, relaxation, and love. I wanted her to feel all of those things. She needs it.”

Your heart felt whole. You did feel the love.

But your thoughts flew around, bumping the sides of your head. ‘She needs it.’ What is that even supposed to mean?

“Yeah, she’s just been off. I want her to be able to feel more like herself,” Jake voiced, sighing. “I’m still not sure about the weed. I don’t want her to feel any lack of control— because that might make her worry more.”

Stop showing how much you care, Jake. It hurts and it’s going to give something away.

But keep going, too. . . Please. For me.

It was Josh’s turn to sigh. “Jacob, I’ve told you. This is something she’s done with us before. All of us. Besides you, of course, I’m assuming,” he paused, slowly iterating his next words. “She and Elsie used to do it with us, like, once a fuckin’ month as a ritual to bond and decompress from life.” His tone was exasperated, as if he’d explained a million times what he’d just said. And he wasn’t wrong. You could confirm everything he was saying.

He continued. “She can handle her green. I promise. I’ve done it with her time and again.” Then, his voice got stern, unwavering. “I would never recommend she partake in something that would make her feel out of control. That’s not me. Take a second to remember that,” he leveled. “But she does need to feel the peace and freeness that comes with marijuana’s natural magic. We all know it works wonders to ease the chaos within the human mind.”

“Okay,” Jake relented. “I’ll take the bait. I believe you.”

“Thank you. Now, I’m going to start making things cozy, cue up some music. . .,” Josh said. “Daniel, dim the lighting. I’m gonna light some candles.”

You started pilfering through your drawer of leggings. You found your favorite pair. The pair that made your ass pop. Then you sorted through your drawer of cropped tanks. Once you’d found the one you wanted, you felt your cheeks heat.

Did you want to do this? Dress like this? Was it a stupid idea? Was this foolish? A smart idea? It would be stupid to deny who you were wanting to dress like this for. . . But should you do it? Would it be obvious?

You dress like this all the time, y/n, a kind of voice reassured you within your cluttered mind. It wouldn’t be abnormal for you to wear it.

Jake’s voice cut through your internal ramble.

“Are we having a fucking orgy, Josh?” Jake asked. His hearty chuckle and the blatant mention of sex made your chest tighten and your stomach flip as you gripped the gray cami in your fist.

“Jake!” Josh’s voice snapped, offended. He was out of breath, as if he’d been busy working away at his self-given task. “No one in this humble abode has had sex with another, and I don’t plan on starting that tonight.”

Your heart rate sped up. All of a sudden, you were completely aware of your state of undress from where you were squatting next to your dresser. Naked (save for your bra and panties), in your bedroom. And the fact that Jake was out there, alone.

You suddenly longed to be close to him. For more than one wanting reason. One reason left your heart pumping in your ears and your underwear feeling obscenely constrictive.

The lesser reason being, you were dying to know what Jake’s reaction to that had been. But you hadn’t heard him make a peep. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew his reaction had been subdued, playing it off. He wouldn’t outwardly expose it. You knew him better than to assume that.

I really do need to be better at giving him the benefit of the doubt, you thought, sadly.

You knew it was too little too late.

Then you heard Josh laugh. The same little laugh he’d do when he would think of something he found funny. “Now if Elsie were here. . .”

You heard all three of them say “Josh!” in unison to his remark, having joined in if you were in there, too.

“What?! The girl knows how to twist that tight body just righ—.”

“Lalala,” Sam sang to himself. You imagined him covering his ears, masking Josh’s voice.

“What?! She is the best I’ve ever—.”

“Josh, with all due respect,” Danny’s soft voice cut through. “Please shut the fuck up.”

Yes, you thought. Ew, Josh.

“Brother,” Jake chimed in, once again calling from where he most likely still stood in the kitchen. “Dinner is ready. So, please, come stuff your face and let our ears breathe.”

And, as if your stomach truly was in tune with it all, it grumbled.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Dinner was incredibly delicious (as you knew it would be), resulting in it being downed in no time.

The five of you had sat around your little dinner table to eat, and it’d felt so nice. But the entire time, you never looked across the table at Jake. You’d also avoided him as you made your plate, only glancing at him out of the corner of your eye to give him a small ‘thank you’ as he talked to Josh. He’d blinked a few times and responded with a “Y-yeah, of course.”

But now, as you sat around the table after supper, you wouldn’t dare look at him. It was a lot to get the courage to do so.

For one, as weird as it was, it kind of intimidated you to do so. He intimidated you. . . Especially now that you’d gotten a good look at his other pick of women. The ones that weren’t you. Maya was exquisitely stunning. Just like the one he’d made out with months ago on the couch— the day he brought the lavender to you at work. (The day you’d been an asshole to him, yet again, for no reason.)

You knew you weren’t as beautiful as either of those women. He was far too out of your league. You’d known this to begin with. It was all just repeatedly slapping you in the face now. . . Like normal, he made you all nervous and jittery. But it was different now. You knew you didn’t measure up, and it was embarrassing that he’d ever given you a chance, honestly. Embarrassing for him.

Every negative thought that you could have was tearing at you. . . It was as if seeing Maya that first day, and then hearing what you did from Sam had just set everything off. Everything.

As you watched Josh and Sam pick at one another’s opinions on the most idiotic things, you spaced out, pondering why you were feeling so much all at once. Was this another result of your childhood trauma? The overthinking? Or was this just you, being a complete trainwreck of a human being?

Either way, it was ridiculous and you wanted to be rid of the thoughts immediately. It was getting really old really fast. But you couldn’t shake them. Because, despite how annoying it was that they wouldn’t leave you be, you still felt they were true.

And had been true since you were a kid. Practically since you were born. The facts could not lie. You weren’t good enough for your own mother. You’d been relentlessly terrible towards Elsie growing up. You’d been consistently unfair towards Jake. . .

There was very little good about you, and you were starting to feel it put a damper on all things in your life.

God. You desperately needed therapy. Your struggles with anxiety were becoming all encompassing. The depression was sprouting without welcome.

He’s shown plenty of interest, y/n, your kind, consoling inner medium expressed. Stop acting like you’re less than the other women. Please. You know better. Don’t let your thoughts get ahead of you. . .

Damn that voice sounded more and more like Elsie any time it managed to break through the darkness of your mind.

Sam’s cackle brought you back to reality from your mess of cluttered, stressful, spiraling thoughts.

“That’s what I’m saying!” Sam exclaimed, pointing directly at his best friend who was sitting across the table from you, right next to Jake. “Thank you, Daniel!”

Josh’s scoff under his breath would have been highly noticeable even if you hadn’t been sitting next to him. You looked to your right to observe him and his reaction.

“Birkenstocks are highly, highly overrated,” he insisted. “I seriously thought you were above the trends, Sammy. . . Now all I can assume is that you primarily care to partake in the highly popular things like other, normal people.”

“I’m not normal!” Sam declared, completely aghast at the comment. “Take it back, Josh.”

“Seems that you’re pop music personified. . .,” Jake said, teasing Sam as Josh had.

Without even meaning to, too lost in everything going on around you now, you shot Jake a glare. And a response.

“Shut the fuck up, Jake,” you intervened, your tone serious, but voice catching a little on his name.

Apparently, of all things, talk of sandals were what could break your vow of avoiding Jake at all costs. Honestly, it was just Sam’s doleful reaction to Jake’s words. He’d gasped, his eyes curving down even more than normal, lip sticking out.

Once you’d connected eyes with Jake, you got lost for a few seconds in the rich pools of chocolate that made up his deep set eyes. . . It was kind of like a readjustment. You were really looking at him for the first time in days. Your ridiculously hot roommate. The same man you’d memorized in every way you could for the past month or so. . . You were reacquainting yourself with his features.

You didn’t want to admit it, but. . . It felt like a piece of your heart was clicking back into place— after you’d given him the cold shoulder all week. His eyes felt so familiar and warm.

Initially, his eyes had widened. He’d seemed shocked that you’d spoken to him at all. But, after he’d stared at you for a moment, he raised a smart brow. Your heart rate increased at the action.

Then, he resituated, pushing his chair back from the table just enough to show his spread legs. You couldn’t control it when you glimpsed his crotch for five seconds. It was as if you were unable to resist— you’d finally taken the bait and broken the fine ice between you two. So, it seemed your eyes worked on their own and made up for lost time. . . Just for a few seconds.

It’s been a fucking week, y/n, the snarky voice in your head mocked. You are too fucking weak for him. Why did you let him in? How are you going to be able to completely cut him off? Weak.

You noticed him push his hips up and out to lean back a bit. The action effectively shut off the voice in your head and made you twitch for him in your leggings.

I sure as hell am weak, you sassed back. And right now, I don’t care. And it’s been nine days. Not a week.

He crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his strong, skilled fingers into his toned biceps. Not meaning to, you licked your bottom lip.

Your body was craving him. Yearning for him. You’d gotten used to regular sex with him, and the nine days you’d been abstaining from it were catching up to you. How were you going to be able to cut yourself completely off?

You weren’t ready for that yet.

But you have to be, the familiar voice reminded you. Enjoy it while it lasts because it’s almost over. You’re only hurting yourself more by extending this ridiculous escapade.

I’m already hurting. Fuck it. I will enjoy it while it lasts, you fought back, shoving the voice off of your shoulders for the time being. Josh is right. Tonight is about me feeling fucking free.

You accepted the challenge. The situation. You were ready to give in to the evening. Your insecurities could wait. They’d have their time soon. Tonight you wanted to ignore all of it. Now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted to take a damn bite.

Skin now hot and senses tingling with his name, you peeked back at his face and found his waiting expression. Your eyebrow raised, too, darkening eyes trained on his. The way he was watching you, it was like he was testing you. But you weren’t going to give in too easily. Your heart was still hurting, and you weren’t going to bend at just anything. He could work for it.

Just like you’d convinced yourself earlier. . . This was one last hurrah. Might as well make the most of it. Drag it out. Just for tonight.

“I’m tired of the obnoxious assholery filling up this room,” you stated, looking away from Jake to address the other two Kiszkas. “Let’s burn a few so you guys will shut the hell up.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

The haze had your mind in the clouds, but not so elevated that you weren’t aware of the happenings all around you. A good state, where your mind could still make cognitive sense of everything, but high enough that all of your worries vanished with each wave of smoke you blew from your mouth. You learned from Elsie the ‘proper’ way to get high, as she called it. One long, drawn out inhale of the smoke, fully filling your lungs and holding it as long as you could before blowing it out in one slow exhale. Less coughing that way, and the most effective way to really feel the effects without it being so intense.

You’ve never loved the feeling of being completely inebriated. Far too often you’ve lost control of your intake, and at that point it would open the hypothetical doors to your past, forcing you to sit in your feelings. Too much of it could be dangerous for your psyche. But, you’ve learned how to control it. You’d discovered the perfect amount that had you feeling weightless and free, your body tickling with the warm fuzzy feeling that allowed you to finally relax.

All of you had your own designated spot in the room– whether it be on blankets, pillows, the couch, or the armchair. You’d been given the couch to lay upon to smoke (as you’d been given first dibs, per Josh’s requirement).

And the man who couldn’t escape your mind sat a few feet away from you, perfectly placed in your line of sight on a pile of blankets and pillows. His hands were in his lap, his legs crossed at the ankles, and his broad shoulders eased while his head laid back.

Josh sat above him on the armchair, his limbs loosened to noodles. Just as Josh started to lay back and close his eyes, he sat up lazily. His eyes, reddened and heavy-lidded, looked around to survey the rest of you.

“We’re in desperate need of some tunes,” Josh said, dragging out the words with a giant grin plastered to his face. “Anyone opposed?

You were laid back against the arm of the couch, sprawled out. And you barely heard him as you’d become utterly transfixed on Jake. . . how he’d balanced the base of his head on the ottoman of the chair, eyes closed as he most surely let the feeling of smoke in him and around him delight his system.

The other two had agreed, but you hardly paid them or Josh any mind. You didn’t wholly process him searching your vinyl collection, picking one from the top.

“Ah, yes. Perfection at its finest,” he made an approving sound with his teeth as he placed the disc on the turntable and read the tracklisting. “This woman was spellbinding.”

At once, you heard the silken scratching of the vinyl from the needle as the record began to spin. An all too familiar album began playing.

Your head perked up as much as it could while simultaneously feeling stuck in the clouds. Sam and Danny were basically gone, just bobbing their heads a little to the rhythm. But they seemed to be fading away by the way they rolled their heads further and further back against their pillows.

Josh had a goofy smile on his face as he settled back into his chair, his hair fluffing around him as he softly nodded his head in tandem with her voice.

You let your eyes travel to Jake for a brief moment, and saw that his eyes were still closed, but now his chest was rising and falling steadily. Had he fallen asleep?

Momentarily, you were disappointed. But you soon realized just how nice sleep sounded. . . Especially when you looked away from Jake to see his counterpart, completely zonked out with his mouth hanging open. Quiet snores were emitting from both of them, but Josh’s were louder thanks to his wide open mouth. Jake’s were barely there. . . more heavy breaths than anything. You knew it meant he’d drowsed only moments ago, a deep slumber not fully taking him yet.

You started to doze off a bit, settling into the way her soulful voice could lull you into a sweet slumber.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You didn’t know what it was that jostled you awake.

Maybe it had been the song change, and you’d just somehow caught on to this song while in dreamland. . . this wonderful song. . . dammit.

I will go where you lead

I'll be right there in a time of need

And when I lose my will

You'll be right there to push me up that hill

You sunk into the feeling of it, but your attention was caught again.

There was muffled shuffling happening in the distance, your senses heightened by the smoke, helping you catch on to the smallest of sounds. Motherly instincts to your lovely feline child, who was sure to be causing the ruckus.

What was Stevie getting herself into?

Lifting your head, you turned it to follow the noise happening in the distance. It was dark due to the late hour. . . you could hardly see. The candles, your only light source.

From what you could tell, the sound was coming from the kitchen. Curiosity was pushing you into a sitting position. You rose without difficulty, your bearings coming back to you little by little. You’d smoked just enough for the escape, but the clarity was still there. Weed was so miraculous that way. Giving an individual just what he or she might need from it. It could mold to the requirements of its enjoyer. Aware as you were, the air around you still felt slow and heady. . . you felt every energy all at once. It made your head swim just a tad.

As you stood, your legs felt like air. You rooted yourself into the sureness of the flat ground. The carpet tickled your bare toes, but you concealed the little sigh that threatened to escape you at the sensation. You were doing your best to not bother the snoozing bodies littered around you.

From your new viewpoint, your eyes swept the room. Dreamily deciding to save the best for last, you started at one side of the room. You squinted at Sammy and Danny first. They were cuddled into their own blankets on their separate pallets, but facing towards one another still.

Next, you looked for Josh, who you didn’t really have to look for since you heard his snores before you saw him. Drool was gathered at the corner of his mouth, opened just as it had been when you’d closed your own eyes. Something caused him to rustle in his sleep, making him jump a little and sniff, one snore resulting in a snort. But just as he’d been shaken, his mouth was opened yet again, snores even louder this time. The drool slipped down his chin. You cringed. He was not an attractive sleeper.

His twin on the other hand. . .the most beautiful sleeper you’d ever laid sleepy eyes on. So, you finally set your gaze where you'd been desiring.

. . .To find nothing. No Jake. Where did he go?

Even amidst the wispy cloud of your mind, you immediately assumed the worst.

Had he invited Maya over? Had that been the sound? God you hoped not.

Even still, your feet moved on their own, all the way to the kitchen from the living room. . . you saw Stevie on your way there, asleep on the top of the couch. She’d nestled right above you. Naturally, you just hadn’t caught on because of your brain fog.

Not knowing what you were about to find, you rounded the corner. And what you found made your eyes water so quickly. The sight was so plain, so simple. . .but so incredibly wholesome.

Your whispered voice broke the silence.

“Why are you watering my lavender?”

He jumped a bit, the tiny, gilded watering pail you’d gotten for it still mid-air when he blinked in your direction, his eyes adjusting to the vast darkness in your shared home.

“I was just putting dinner up and it looked a little wilty,” he said, sounding ‘wilty’ himself. “Have you not watered it recently?”

Shit. While immersed in your unreasonable head for the past several days, you’d ignored the plant.

“No,” you responded, not providing an explanation.

“I understand,” he said, a small grin on his lips and honesty in his eyes, even darker in the shadowy lighting. A candle on the bar was the only way you could make him out. “School starting and all. I bet your stress has been high because of that.”

“Yeah,” you absentmindedly agreed. But his words rang again in your head, things clicking slower with the pot. “Also, stop telling people I’m stressed,” you griped, crossing your arms (partially to keep yourself balanced). “Or sad. You don’t know.”

He emptied the rest of the water into the soil, feeling it with his fingers before washing his hands. Then he turned to you, his face pinched with shock. He shook his head a bit, his longer waves swaying at his collarbone. “It’s obvious you have been.”

Fuck. You knew you’d been transparent. It was something you flourished at– wearing your heart on your sleeve. And that also meant you were shit at masking your emotions. But why did he care?

“Okay, say I have. Still not your business to share,” you asserted, with a final nod of your head.

He nodded, pushing his lip out. He lifted his hand to his chin to rub it a bit, a sign you’d learned to mean that he agreed. “That is fair. I’m sorry.”

You felt your head rock a bit and shut your eyes briefly to reset. The flow of the remaining green in your system was making you a bit dizzy. And while you were still with it and aware of yourself and your surroundings, you knew that it was probably time to go to bed. It was also getting to be too much talking to Jake like normal.

Things weren’t normal. And you couldn’t pretend they were. It made your heart feel all blue. As much as you missed him–just talking to him, you decided to use sleep as the reason to excuse yourself. Before you told him every tiny thing on your mind. You knew yourself too well– when weed entered the picture, there was no concealing a single thought that crossed your mind.

“I’m going to bed,” you said, turning away from him and starting the walk to your bedroom, your heart still with him and the fucking lavender in the kitchen window.

But just as you’d made it to your door, opening it just a smidge, you felt a warm hand encompass yours, which still twisted around the knob. You could have fallen into him. It felt so good to simply feel his touch. God, he really was so warm. So safe. So cozy. So Jake.

He doesn’t feel the same for you, the fucking nagging voice said, slipping through the thickness of the marijuana. You aren’t those things to him.

Go the fuck home, you told the voice, pissed beyond belief that it had managed to enter your hazy realm of escapism.

“I am home,” he said, his voice low and hot on your neck. The feeling grew goosebumps immediately.

Fuck. You’d said it out loud. That was embarrassing as hell.

“I was talking to myself,” you revealed honestly–crazily, angling your head so you could speak over your shoulder to him. And just as you did, it became obvious just how close he was to you. His collar, level with your eyes. You looked up a bit to find him watching you. Carefully. Warily. But intensely all the same.

“That’s endearing,” he said, the humor in his tone making you suddenly angry.

You turned on your heel, resulting in him moving away from you a few inches.

No. Come back.

You fought the desperation in your veins. The desperation making your heart beat wildly in your chest.

“Why did you follow me? Acting like you care?” You said, your voice hushed and eyes flicking a bit so you could actually handle looking him in the eyes. “Stop with the bullshit.”

“Woah,” he screwed his eyes slightly at you, his voice level meeting yours. “You know I care.”

He took one more step back.

What are you doing? Stop leaving me.

You just left him, you idiot, your familiar, inner monster said, judging you.

“No. You don’t care. Not actually. And if you do, I know it’s not just for me,” the words spilled out, humiliating you. “I’ve had the past few days to realize that.”

Oh, fuck. Here comes honesty hour.

He crossed his arms at his chest. His biceps were distracting. Goddamn.

“So that’s what’s been wrong?”

You gave yourself a tiny moment to evaluate him. He seemed way too sober for this conversation to be an even playing field.

“Are you not high?”

He cracked a smile, nodding his head. “Yes, I am,” he looked down, seeming a little embarrassed. If the lighting wasn’t so dark, you could guess you’d see a blush on the apples of his cheeks. “Just done it enough that it looks different on me. Trust me, my head is fuckin’ swimming. Dizzy and shit . . . just didn’t want to fall asleep in there and get a crick in my neck. And I figured I’d put dinner away since I’m still more present than not. . .,” he paused, looking up at you. “But, I assure you, I’m definitely not all here.”

You had to giggle a little in spite of it all. God, he was so fucking endearing. You couldn’t put it into words at that moment, but. . . damn. The way he was— so many things about him that you lo—. . . fuck.

“That’s exactly how I feel, too,” you admitted, your eyes innocently meeting his.

His smile widened, face relaxing. But the change in demeanor broke your heart and made your defenses rise. Emotions were breaking loose again. . .

“Okay, so,” you shook your head, rubbing your temples to re-center. You glanced at him again. “If you do care, why did you ignore me on Friday?”

He shook his head once. “Ignore you? I literally talked to you. I’ll go get my phone right now to prove it.” You flushed thinking of the conversation. How badly you’d wanted him. . . still wanted him. He kept going, saying, “I also wanted to talk to you when I got home. But you were already asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”

I wasn’t asleep, you wanted to say. I was just sad. Crying because of you.

“You stormed off. Didn’t even try to talk to me about how you were feeling,” you said, words quiet, yet cutting the air. “Made it obvious that I matter so little to you that I wasn’t even worth talking to when you were upset. Tell me how little I matter to you. Just say it.”

“Fuck– god, no. I won’t,” he brought the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I don’t ever want you to think you matter little to me– you are literally every– fuck. I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t matter as much as Maya,” you said, finishing his sentence with a forlorn statement, in a snarky tone of voice. Your heart leapt into your throat at having mentioned her so boldly. There it was. Out in the open. “That’s why you didn’t want to talk to me. Just wanted to talk to her.”

He looked at you, a thousand thoughts swirling behind his bourbon-colored irises. His lips pursed, then he released a tight exhale, his eyes resting directly on you as if he’d decided to tell you something. Ready to break your heart, surely.

“Say it, Jake,” your voice cracked on his name.

Jake huffed. “Y/n, you are the reason I was so fucking pissed that day. I wasn’t going to talk to you about–.”

“Me?!” You blanched, perplexed that he could pin anything on you. All you’d done was be there to support him the best you could. You pointed a finger in your chest, “What did I,” and then at him, “do to you, asshole?!”

The name slipped out. You hated that you’d said it. But, you did.

“I didn’t say you did anything to me. Will you let me explain?”

“Go ahead,” you motioned your hand, the action feeling slow with the marijuana lacing itself through your veins.

“I was embarrassed as fuckin’ shit that my cord gave out at that festival,” he began, words a little sluggish. I could’ve guessed that. “And for a second, I was embarrassed about it happening in front of so many people. . . but immediately after, before I could think about that, I thought about how you had come out to that festival, so excited and sexy as hell ready to see me perform, and I couldn’t even hold up my end of the deal. I wanted to impress you, and I failed,” he shook his head, looking down, away from you, his hands coming up to cover his face.

You wanted to believe him. But you’d gotten so used to combatting him, that you couldn’t help reject his words. “Sounds fake.”

Instantly, he dropped his hands, letting them slap against his thighs. His eyes were wide. “Are you serious right now?” He sounded sad. Hurt. “I bare my heart to you and all you can do is tell me I sound fake?”

Putting your defenses down, you truly thought about it. Maybe. . . maybe he was telling the truth.

All your life, you had been so quick to expect the worst of people. You had never let yourself believe anyone could have good intentions. Why would you? After everything you’d been through, after how many people had hurt you to the point of severe trauma, it only made sense that your first instinct would be to not trust that anyone had your best interest at heart. But, staring at the man in front of you, his eyes begging you to believe him, his chest falling and rising with deep, slow breaths. . . all of his emotions, on blatant display. . . you thought of him and the person he’d been for you recently. How you had so openly shared things with him. . . Maybe he felt the same with you? Even if it sounded slightly ridiculous. . . It would be harsh to judge him for that.

“I’m sorry,” you said, bowing your head.

You felt two tender, calloused fingers lift your chin. Your body lit up at his touch. Eyes grew tears. . .

You just kept talking, feeling comfortably vulnerable under his stare.

“I thought she was here tonight.”

“Who?” He rubbed his thumb smoothly over your chin, holding your face so gently.

“Maya.”

He let go of you, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Fuck. I knew you would jump to conclusions with Sam saying what he did the other night.”

“I didn’t have to jump to any conclusions. I saw it with my own eyes. Heard Josh–,” you stopped yourself. Even in this dazed state, you knew that telling him you’d heard his conversation with Josh wasn’t a good idea.

“Heard Josh. . . what?” He raised a brow.

“Nothing,” you shook your head.

He rolled his eyes. “Okay. Whatever you heard any of them say– can you believe me?” He asked, begging you with his profoundly engaging irises. “Please?”

You knew what you felt though. What you’d heard him say in response to Josh– what you’d seen with your eyes. You’d dug yourself a massive hole of winding thoughts. . . you weren’t sure who or what to believe. So, you responded simply. “I don’t know, Jake.”

He put a hand over his eyes, then removed it to question you. “Why?”

“I’m not getting into that right now,” you asserted, looking away and covering your face as he had his. When you looked back at him, and into his eyes, you let your guard down slightly. “You know why. It’s my specialty.”

“Okay . . .,” he accepted, his tone gentle and understanding. “We’ll just let that sit for now. Back to your initial assumption tonight, though. . . have I ever brought her here?”

“I’m assuming.”

“Stop assuming.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you bit back.

“I’m only telling you that so you can stop hurting yourself. You spiral. I know this about you,” he reasoned carefully.

“That’s fucking rude.”

“Whatever. It’s true and you basically just said it yourself. I do it, too. So, fair’s fair,” he retorted, his tone indicating annoyance. “But to answer my question to you, for you– No. The answer is no. I’ve never brought her here.”

“What about that night with the sweet, unforgettable earplug remark?”

“Really? Unforgettable? Why do you insist–?” He growled low under his breath, shaking his head a little. “Whatever. Never mind. That was a different woman. I hadn’t even met Maya yet. Sam was exaggerating– per usual. I haven’t been seeing her since I moved here. I saw her briefly. . . from mid-June to, like, mid-July.”

“You continued seeing her after Baby’s?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me,” he clarified. “And I was an idiot. She was a woman who wanted to have sex with me, and I like sex. I was just being stupid.”

“That’s probably all I am to you, though,” you said, making him aware of your surmise. His face said he wanted to insert something, but you kept talking. “I’m just someone you can have sex with– because you like sex. Which, I do, too. But I just. . .,” you swept two feather light hands through your hair. “I don’t know why I want it to be more. But I do and . . . that’s going against everything I said. . .and I. . .” You closed your lids and groaned, irritated with your heart.

The fingers were under your chin again, your eyes opening to look at him at the contact. “Because it feels so natural being more. I get it. It’s not bad.”

“Yes it is,” you said, tearing your face away from his hand. “Because you don’t want that with me. I saw how she interacted with you after her lesson the other day. At the festival. I mean, you invited her to the festival. She was backstage with you. . . acting like a girlfriend or some shit the whole damn time. And then when she ran for you when you were upset. . .acting like she had done it a thousand times.”

“Well, she hasn’t. . .” he affirmed, his voice hard and leaving no room for disagreement. “And, yes, she is sweet and I liked having sex with her because she’s a good person who helped me a lot during a hard time with some much needed pep talks. . . but everything at the festival was her taking too much upon herself. Also, she invited herself to that. I didn’t invite her. And when she got there, Sam saw her and had her come backstage. I don’t know why he’s so insistent on hooking us up again.”

Oh.

He continued. “Y/n. . . I don’t know how else to say it. Anyway I say it, I feel like you won’t believe me. But– god, she’s just not you. I would never be able to feel the things for her that I do for you. It was– I emphasize, was– just sex with her; but with you? It's been. . .it’s more. You are more. I can’t explain it. . .my heart aches for you in ways it never did with her—with anyone.”

His velvet voice sent a flutter to your heart. You heard the genuine truth behind it, and the way his eyes never once left yours. His eyes, that said so much more than his words ever could.

“I don’t want her. I want you. At my shows. In my bed every night and every morning, waking me with your mouth or your sweet pussy. . .I just—goddammit. Fuck. I fucking love you, y/n. I love you. No one else.”

Your next words couldn’t have been stopped if you tried.

“I love you too,” fell smoothly from your lips, like the purest golden honey.

He stopped—his reddened, heavy eyes zeroing in on yours. He gave a tiny shake of his head.

“Y–you do?”

You couldn’t believe your own words. Really. Well. . .could you? They’d slipped from your lips so easily, with no time to overthink them, like you always seemed to do. Because you didn’t have to think about it– you couldn’t overthink that—because it was true. It came out so naturally, so authentically, just as it was. You hadn’t even realized you felt it yet; you hadn’t given yourself the chance to fully feel it—but there was no doubt. You did. You couldn’t hide it from yourself any longer.

His blown out irises penetrated yours—the eyes that confirmed everything he’d just told you to be completely true.

“Jesus, Jake. Of course I fucking do.”

Who moved first, you’d never know.

But your lips met his with unbridled need. You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips enveloping yours. . . the way he sucked your mouth gently into his own– tasting you with the tip of his tongue as he did so. When you moaned again, he pushed you back with his hips, a hand gripping one of yours. You grabbed his ass tightly as if to hang on, never wanting to let go of him. The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. He reached a hand behind him to close it gently– so as not to wake anyone.

Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden light. You grabbed his cheeks, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him. And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created. . .making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on.

A quiet smirk graced his perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened.

You thought a moment before you answered. With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know. As you stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of.

But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer. There was so much you wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words. For once, you’d been left nearly speechless by your intense infatuation for him that you had finally allowed yourself space to fully realize.

You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.

“Nothing,” you whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you’re certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.

He led you backwards to your bed, your lips staying connected the entire time. With hardly any effort, he swiftly scooped you up and placed you on the bed, his lips only leaving yours to attach to your neck to suck on the tight flesh. His fingers toyed with the strap of your top, teasing it slowly down your shoulder. His mouth followed it with wet, barely there kisses on your skin with each movement down your arm. He then moved to the other arm, doing the exact same thing as his mouth began setting your whole body alight.

He was taking his time. He wanted to enjoy every part of your body, savoring you in ways he always had but this time, it was different. His need was far beyond just wanting to fuck you; he wanted to love you.

He dragged his lips across your collarbone, moving to the middle of your chest, then taking the fabric still covering you between his teeth as he pulled a little.

“Take this off,” he whispered, “need to taste these pretty tits.”

You groaned, wasting no time removing the barrier. You tossed it across the room with such eagerness you should’ve been embarrassed. But you weren’t. Couldn’t be. Not when he was displaying the same eagerness to please you, to feel your body against his own.

He flattened his tongue over a hard bud, slowly dragging it up until the tip flicked your nipple before he closed his lips around it and sucked. He swirled his tongue around, lifting off of it with a string of saliva that still connected him to you as he blew cold air on it. He tweaked it with his fingers, rolling it between his index and thumb as he moved to the other breast to give it the same attention.

“Jake— fuck. It feels so good.” You were breathing so heavily that your breathless words just barely broke through your parted lips.

But he heard you. And he smiled in retort against your chest as he continued lapping and sucking at you, using his teeth to graze your nearly too sensitive nipple. You were already nearing your break, feeling the pulsing between your legs keeping up with the erratic beating of your heart.

He grabbed both your breasts, pushing them together and licking one long and steady stripe up the middle where his strong hands connected them.

“Goddamn,” He spoke against your skin; you felt every word from his lips across your supple flesh. “I will never get enough of these, baby. So fucking perfect.”

As good as he was making you feel, you were becoming increasingly more desperate. You needed him in your pussy. His mouth, his fingers, his cock. Fucking anything. You were throbbing for him. You weaved your trembling hands through his tangled hair, trying to guide him the rest of the way down your body.

“Jake, please. I need you.” Your labored breathing made it incredibly hard to be able to form a single coherent word.

He giggled as he made his descent down your heaving belly, stopping to plant an open mouthed kiss over your belly button as your body shuddered almost uncontrollably.

“Easy, baby,” he said between leaving kitten licks just above the waistband of your leggings. “You know I’ll give you what you want. Don’t I always? Just let me take my time with you– need to worship this glorious fucking body.”

Your heart swelled at his words. He thought your body was deserving of being worshiped. Who were you to rush him? And he was right. He was always the most generous lover, never stopping until you were fully satisfied with everything you needed. He pulled your leggings down just a little, enough to expose your hip bones and the top of your purple lace thong. He sucked a dark mark on the tight skin of your hip, sending a flood to your already soaked core as you gasped so loud you reached your hand up to cover your gaping mouth.

“Let them hear,” he groaned as he smiled. “They’re in our fucking place, aren’t they? If they don’t like it, they can leave.”

Our place.

Those words that had once felt so poisoned, that would have made you cringe at the mere sound of them— they suddenly felt so right as they comfortably glided off his tongue that was caressing you wonderfully.

Though, you weren’t quite ready for them to know about this. . . Despite your ever-present fear of Josh finding out, there was just something about it only being between you and Jake. Especially now, the way it felt so sacred and special. Just the two of you. No one else. No one.

Before you could tell him you absolutely did not want them to hear, he tested you a bit further by pulling your leggings off in one swift motion and planting his lips directly on your vibrating clit, still tucked away beneath the purple lace. With how he had perfectly worked you up, you were already so sensitive. You jolted at the contact, nearly screaming “fuck!” into your open palm as the sensation had been heightened in brand new ways.

“Normally I’d say purple is the most offensive hue,” he ran his middle finger up and down the wet lace, applying a feather light pressure— just enough to have you squirming under his touch. “But you make it look so goddamn magnificent. So fucking beautiful.”

“Fuck Jake. . .” You started bucking your hips up, chasing anything he would give you.

“I know baby, I know,” he hushed. “I just love seeing you like this. So ready for me, your panties clinging to you. I’m gonna lock that sight away.”

He hooked his thumbs around the thin string of your thong and pulled it slowly down your hips. The pads of his fingers danced over the skin of your thighs while he rid you of the final hindrance keeping him from where you desired him the most. He lifted your legs over his shoulders as his tongue flicked just once at your swollen clit. You pulled tightly at his hair and he groaned at the feeling, sending a vibration against you as you tried with all of your best efforts to stay quiet.

He took a moment to admire the sight of you, how your trembling body practically begged him to touch you without the need for a single word. As if sensing it, he started leaving the most tender kisses on the inside of your thighs, inching himself closer and closer but never picking up his pace.

He was teasing you to the point of near madness. You were certain the sheets below you were soaked with your arousal. You could hardly stand it any longer. Your need for him had officially surpassed any you had ever felt for him before.

“J-Jake, please. . .”

He sucked a few more times on the tender flesh of your thigh before finally wrapping his wet lips around your neglected clit. As he did it, he looked up at your pleasure contorted face with eyes that smiled. You became nearly breathless at the sight of him combined with the feeling of his warm tongue caressing you, devouring you like a starved man enjoying his first meal.

He pulled you as close to his face as he could with an iron grip on your hips. His eyebrows became creased as he hummed into your sopping and throbbing pussy. The carnal, lewd sounds of him sloppily lapping at you only added to the intensity you felt in the pit of your stomach. . .

. . .until he stopped— leaving you whimpering and squirming for more.

“Look at me.” His soft, gravelly voice pulled you from your agony of missing his mouth on you, and you did as he said.

Your body shook as you lifted your head to meet his dark, sinful eyes that burned holes straight through yours.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he muttered. “And you taste so sweet, baby.”

He smiled as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss just above your clit, keeping his eyes locked with yours. He lifted off of you and climbed up your quivering body, dragging his lips over any surface area of you he could reach until his nose brushed against yours.

“Jaaake. . .” You nudged your lips against his, feeling his warm breath melt into your skin. “. . .fuck me. Now.”

He wanted to hear you say it; he needed to hear you say it.

He lifted his hips up just enough for your wandering hand to reach down between your bodies. You cupped him tightly in your palm, feeling just how desperate he was to get out of the strenuous restriction of his black jeans.

He hissed as your hand moved up and down his clothed length, teasing him just as he had with you. You reached up and cradled his face with your free hand, drawing patterns into his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb.

You loved the hitch in his breath, his pleading eyes that begged you to take his jeans off. The sweat that had formed around his hairline. The torment in his eyes that all on their own could have sent you spiraling into the most beautiful release. God, he was so fucking pretty.

You squeezed your hand around him, feeling him throb as his eyes rolled in the back of his head. He grit his teeth and bite his lower lip so hard you were surprised he didn’t draw blood.

“Jesus— fuck,” he groaned, the rasp in his voice sending a another wave to core.

You wanted to tease him further, but your own body couldn’t take it any longer.

You dug into the buckle of his belt and ripped it off of him in one fluid motion, you both gasping at the ‘snap’ sound it made when you pulled it out of the loops of his pants. With one hand, you released the metal button and pulled the zipper of his fly down in record time. Your fingers instantly intertwined with his boxers, reaching inside for his pulsing cock.

“A bit eager, are we?” he patronized, but you knew damn well he needed it as badly as you did.

“Shut the fuck up, Jacob.”

He huffed a laugh as he aided you in pulling his jeans and boxers down to sit in the middle of his thighs, finally freeing him all the way.

You wanted to taste him, but the ache in your pussy was far too great to go any longer without him filling you. You wrapped your legs tightly around his hips to angle yourself perfectly with him as he lined himself up with you. Both of his hands settled on either side of your face as he pulled you into a fervid kiss while the tip of his cock nudged your quivering entrance.

He kissed down your jawbone, your neck, pulling your earlobe gently between his teeth.

“I fucking love you. . .” he purred against your ear, plunging his cock slowly inside of you as he said it. “. . . and god, do I love fucking you.”

You groaned in utter relief when he thrust himself completely inside of you, as deep as he could go. He was still for a moment, feeling your walls clench around the pulsing of his cock.

“Fuck, Jake. . .” You pulled at the sweat drenched hairs sitting on the nape of his neck while the nails of your other dug into the soft flesh of his hip.

“I know, baby. . . I feel you. So wet and warm, pulling me in. I fit so well, don’t I?”

You couldn’t even respond to tell him how fucking good he felt buried inside of you. Words had escaped you entirely.

You weren’t sure if it was the weed or if it was because you were finally letting yourself feel everything you’d shoved down for far too long, but the way he felt sitting inside of you was ineffable; he was right. He fit so goddamn well. He had to have been made for you. Fuck. You’d let him stay inside of you for the rest of your life if you could.

He started pumping in and out of you at a slow pace— you could feel every vein of his thick shaft against your walls as he glided so effortlessly through you. Pulling all the way out to the tip, then back in again, perfectly brushing that wonderful spot within you each time as you felt every inch of him.

He gradually quickened his thrusts, his breaths becoming more and more deep with every calculated movement of his hips. Both of your hands reached behind him to grasp ahold of his back, feeling the muscles beneath your fingertips flex while he fucked himself into you with more intensity.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, clawing at his skin, damp with perspiration from his efforts and the wonderful effects of the weed. You were desiring to feel him as close to you as you possibly could. You were about to finish–you could feel it. Teetering on the edge of sweet relief. . . your walls were fluttering, your clit was pulsing. . .

The wound-up ball of tension in your tummy was about to let loose.

His thrusts were getting desperate, his pants and sighs were mixing with yours. And you couldn’t help but look between you, where your bodies met. . . it made your heart beat even more rapidly in your chest, seeing you connected in such a way. It looked so right. You felt full. You felt whole. In your haze, your thoughts couldn’t help but wander as you thought of the final step to feeling close to him.

Fuck.

As soon as the thought entered your brain, you had to throw your head back in ecstasy. It was almost too much to imagine.

Your mind was so fucking cloudy– nothing sounded better in that moment than to feel him fully. His release inside of you. . .it would join your bodies completely. And God, you wanted that.

Needed it. And you knew this time might very well be the last. And you had to feel him in that way. Just once. You’d get a Plan-fucking-B in the morning. It would be so incredibly worth it to feel him in that way.

Just this once. This one last time. It would be the perfect ending to this beautiful chapter of my life, you thought, longing for things to be different.

“Shit– y/n,” Jake’s voice was needy as he rasped. “You feel so damn good. Fuck. So tight. So wet– smooth as fuckin’ velvet–,” he snapped his hips, the tip of his dick met your tender spot. It was even more tender under the influence– everything was heightened. “Fuck!”

You shook with anticipation, your legs already twitching. And you hadn’t even cum yet.

“I know, Jakey,” you sighed. You reached a hand down his back, grasping at his firm ass. You held tightly to the plush muscle. It flexed with each push of his hips against you. “Y’feel so good.”

One hand and a forearm was balancing him above you. The hand of the forearm had been tenderly holding your head for the entirety of him fucking you into your mattress. But the other hand that he’d been using for balance moved swiftly to place two fingers below your chin. As he guided your face to look at him, you sighed with relief at the sight of his beautiful eyes– speaking every emotion he wanted to say.

You felt it with him. Every fucking bit of it.

His brows were concentrated, pinched with thought and overflowing emotions.

“I know, sweetie. I feel it, too,” you gasped on the last words. Tears were choking your throat. You didn’t want this to end. But, even now, you knew it had to. Fuck– you wished like hell that you could keep him. But you couldn’t.

Josh’s words swirled through your mind.

“Now is not the time to be getting involved with anyone.”

“You know better, Jake. And you know that now is the time to focus on yourself rather than a woman– focusing on anything besides this monumental time in your life could hurt you.”

You knew Josh was correct. You couldn’t be the thing to distract him to the point of him abandoning this dream.

“Can you just fucking look out for yourself—just a little bit?” He’d pleaded, his voice breaking a bit.

Just like your heart now.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. . . I would just really appreciate it if you cared about yourself the way you deserve.”

You feared he couldn’t do it for himself. Look out for his best interest. If he hadn’t been able to do it before with Amelia, what would stop him from giving himself the short end of the stick for you, too?

And you had to take into consideration how quickly you’d been destroyed by running to any and every conclusion about Maya. . . You could not handle something like this. Emotionally, it was too much for you at this point in your life. Pushing all of the thoughts away, you decided to just let yourself have this time with him. He was everything you wanted, and at this moment you were going to let yourself have him.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you gazed into his irises. But before you could lose yourself further, he shook his head, looking down between the two of you.

Your brow furrowed in response, and you reached the hand that was still holding his back, up to cup his cheek, lifting his head in the process. When he looked at you again, his eyes were shining.

Dammit, Jake, you thought, wistful.

You felt tears prick your own ducts. Your thumb swept across the soft skin and the faint beauty mark that adorned his cheek. Fuck, he was beautiful. You bit your lip, then hushed your next words, repeating your earlier statement. “I know.”

He went to look down again, but your hold was firm on his face. “Look at me, Jake,” you begged. “Watch me.”

He pressed his face into your hand, his eyes shutting for a moment. A singular tear made its way to your chest. He cleared his throat, opening his eyes. He kept them on you, never wavering and following your instructions. His hips continued with their languid movements, his cock never exiting you. But, suddenly, as you felt your walls constrict him again, his slow movements became quicker, desperate. You wanted to throw your head back, completely overtaken with lust. But you kept your eyes trained on his.

You had to see him finish. . . see his face. You’d never let yourself watch him, subconsciously fearing the intimacy of witnessing it. But you had to see it now. . .just once.

“Stay with me, Jake,” you pleaded, your voice hitching with each hard pump of his dick. He briefly closed his eyes again, and fearful of missing him, you coached him back to you. “Look into my eyes.”

You gasped the last part, the sensation of him throbbing and twitching inside of you, the fullness of his dick filling you completely.

More.

He whimpered, his Amber-brown eyes, heart wrenching and warm as they stayed locked with yours. “I can’t– I’m gonna– I’m–,” he choked out. His movements slowed, and he went to pull out. But you stopped him, your hand holding tight to his soft, round ass. He looked back at you, quirking an inquisitive, urgent brow. You felt your legs quiver, your heat clenched around him as your clit twitched with need.

So close. Fuck.

His eyes rolled, his lids shutting with the feeling. He bit his pink lip. His lips, still swollen from your kisses and shiny from your release. The butterflies in your stomach started fluttering ferociously, the familiar feeling overtaking you as your body trembled– your nerves humming.

You were about to finish. And you had to do it with him.

Completely.

“Y/n,” he gasped, warning you. “I’m going to fucking cum.”

You felt his cock pulse inside of you, confirming his words.

“I know,” you said, for the third time. “But I need to feel you. I want you to finish inside of me.”

His eyes bugged. “Y/n– fuck. No. No. You are under the influence. You don’t want–.”

You felt your chest flare with irritation at his words. “Jake, I swear to fuck,” you whined, your eyes shutting as one particular nudge of his cock against your folds pushed you nearly over the edge. “Please, Jake. Please, baby. I promise you won’t be taking advantage or some shit. I need it. Please. Let me have it. Just this one time.”

Let our last time be special, you thought. You tried to let your eyes echo your thoughts, willing him to understand.

He seemed to, because his next words were less apprehensive– an air of eagerness and an air of excitement painting his tone with his next words. “Are you sure?”

“More than sure,” you reassured, smoothing your thumb across his sharp cheekbone.

And with one last buck from his hips, your clit twitched and your legs turned to Jell-o. All composure was lost–shuddering and heart chanting his name. Then, with a final groaned growl, his eyelids drooped, and his irises hazily watched you. His mouth relaxed to an ‘o’ shape, just the same as it did when he played his beloved instrument. You felt the glorious feeling of his release, as he spilled warm and plentiful inside of you.

“Jaaaake,” you moved your hips up against him, wanting to feel and catch every last bit of him. “Yes, baby– yes.”

Dammit– until this moment, you hadn’t realized just how badly you needed this.

You could punch yourself with the anger you felt at ending things with him. But it was for this exact reason. The emotions you were feeling (that you knew he was also feeling), as he slumped against you, thick shaft slowly softening inside of you. . .his head balanced on your shoulder as your fingers lazily played with his gorgeous, growing locks. . .

It wasn’t uncomplicated. It was more than it was ever meant to become. It wasn’t what you had agreed to in the slightest. This was turning into a relationship. And you were not about to squander his career with any sort of distraction. You refused to get in the way of his career.

So, when he finally pulled out of you –and you felt the remnants of his seed slipping from between the folds of your fulfilled cunt– you reminded yourself.

Plan B.

And as you dozed off, after he’d cleaned you so delicately, with him spooning you from behind, his firm chest meeting your relaxed back. . . you swore you wouldn’t forget.

Plan B in the morning.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hope to see you back for part 2 TOMORROW!! 🖤

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts!

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake fic #jake kiszka #covet #my fics

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neverevan · 5 months

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2023 Writing Round-Up 💫

• 15 fics / 138.6k words posted; out of which 8 fics / 67.8k were buddie

Phew, it's been such a productive year, especially the second half, thank you for everyone who tagged along for the ride!! 🤗

(also I'm doing it in reverse order because... well if you know, you know 😪)

•December•

we’ve got something permanent (i mean in the way we care) [buddie, 7.1k, Explicit]

Buck has baby fever and it’s Eddie’s job to give him what he wants. Kind of.

Keep My Heart Warm In Yours [buddie, 18.5k, Mature]

Christopher decides that he wants to go skiing, Buck makes it happen and the cabin at the foot of the mountains turns out to be quite the romantic backdrop for their little getaway.

Of Love, Hospital Jitters And Christmas Lights [buddie, 6.3k, Teen + Up]

Eddie and Buck end up in the hospital waiting room a few days before Christmas.

You Ring, I Drool [buddie, 8.6k, Explicit]

5+1 times Buck reminds Eddie of a dog // alternatively; the one in which Eddie accidentally conditions Buck to beg for treats

If This Is What The Season Is Bringing [buddie, 2k, Teen + Up]

Buck and Eddie made a promise after Eddie decided to leave the 118 and they finally make good on it this Christmas.

•November•

Out Of Order, Still In Line [buddie, 6.2k, Explicit]

When Buck finally gets to the Clinic, the long awaited release doesn’t seem to come; cue Eddie to the rescue.

'Cause I'm still seeing colours that are red (If I close my chest and let it take me) [steddie, 11.4k, Explicit]

Ever since they came back from the Upside Down, Steve has been struggling on rainy days, but Eddie’s there to provide support and a maybe even a little more than that. - Project #182 of Steddie Bigbang 2023

How It Was Meant To Be [steddie, <1k, Gen]

Steve's casually calling Eddie 'baby' all the time, without even registering what he’s doing.

•October•

I Was Betting On Forever (But Forever Comes And Goes) [buddie, 4k, Teen + Up]

Eddie gets a call from Buck in the middle of the night and it’s about as bad as one would expect.

It gets better, it gets worse [steddie, 52.7k, Explicit]

Steve tried to tell Eddie how he felt, only to get shut down immediately. Now meeting for the first time in a year, they have to figure out how to be around each other.

Coming On Ever So Strong / Coming Off Ever So Soft [buddie, 14.7k, Explicit]

They get drunk, Eddie makes a move and then there is the next morning.

•July•

But where they lay, they cannot stay [radskier, 4.3k, Explicit]

Jaskier comes to Tretogor and meets Radovid for the first time in months, but their reunion is bittersweet given how much everything has changed since they’ve last seen each other.

•May•

Helping hands (are better than praying lips) [steddie, 5.5k, Explicit]

Eddie breaks his arms and Steve is on nurse duty. [cw for watersports]

•February•

Who we are in the dark [steddie, 3.4k, Explicit]

It's their first anniversary and they go to the cinema.

•January•

It might walk like a duck [steddie, 10k, Explicit]

Eddie Munson is a busy man, busy enough to have a planner. Steve misses his friend so he hijacks said planner, learning something unexpected in the process.

Aaand that's all, folks! 💛 Now, here are some tags:

I was tagged by the lovely @wikiangela and @jamespearce9-1-1 thank you~ 💛

(these guys went in so early and I left it for the last minute lmao but just in case you missed their round-ups, you can read them: here and here)

✨tagging (if you've already done it, no worries and still no pressure otherwise either): @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns @eddiebabygirldiaz @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @disasterbuckdiaz @nmcggg @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @theotherbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @ladydorian05 @rainbow-nerdss

#what a year fam what a year #buddie #911 #writing round-up #writing round-up 2023 #self fic rec

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cleabellanov · 7 months

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LS2 episode 5 thoughts✨

The conversation Loki had with O.B. first concluded in Loki finding his "why" in order to control the time slipping. And, once he knew that and realized he needs everyone's temporal aura, where does he timeslip to? Back to Mobius. That's a sweet detail, and, similar to episode 1, reveals Loki's trust for this character. Even when Mobius doesn't remember him, Loki still believes in him. And in everything he was told back at the TVA, including the way he describe a jet-ski: "a beautiful union of form and function". Another detail that melted my fool heart was the way Loki laughed after Mobius's (or Don's, but I'm not calling him that) words: "Or did you follow me home?". They are precious.

"You saw something in me that I hadn't seen in myself". That says so much. It reminisces all those times in season 1 when Mobius was by Loki's side:

"A villain" "That's not how I see it".

"You can be whatever, whoever you wanna be. Even someone good. I mean just in case anyone ever told you different".

And we can see Loki learning how to trust, how to care. For his character, this is great development. He's not the same Loki that invaded New York blinded by pain and revenge. He's returning to himself and by doing so, he's returning to what truly matters to him. His friends, his found family. All those timelines he feels burdened to protect.

"It's not about when, where, or why. It's about who." EXACTLY. The other variables are unimportant if they're not in the hands of the right person. And, after the heartbreaking moments in which Loki is the only one left standing after everything falls apart in front of him, I think he understands that. To quote Tom Hiddleston himself: "He learns what heroicism really looks like." And this "who" goes both ways: who rewrites the story, and FOR WHO this is done.

"I can rewrite the story."

That line is epic! It shows the power he always had and can finally access. It puts the concept of free will in another light: it's THE story, not MY story. Also, how far back can this go? At the end of the episode, we see Loki back with O.B back when the Loom was stable. That's the point he chose, for everyone else, not only for himself. At this point, he could have gone back to Asgard, back to New York. Win it all, be king. But that's not his glorious purpose anymore. He's finally seeing what Mobius saw in him, even Thor, some time ago ("Loki, I thought the world of you."). And there was a lot of talk about stories, writing and rewriting them. That's sooo similar to the comic where Loki becomes the God of Stories!! Like, this is actually happening!

"They didn't get a choice in this".

I think this is an extremely interesting conversation he had with Sylvie, in which you can see both of their points, none entirely right. For Sylvie, free will is something left untouched. No intervention, ever, just moments and paths in a disarray only the one who takes them can know them truly. For Loki, it's more of a choice. Yes, we take our own path, but sometimes we're given a choice. There is no bad or right in this game, only choices. By giving everyone a glance at the TVA, Loki realises that. What if they want that life instead of the one they already have? They wouldn't know, if not given the choice.

"I want my friends back. I don't wanna be alone"

Okay, that hurt. In the time cell in episode 1, we remember Sif repeating the same thing over and over again to Loki "I hope you know that you are meant to be alone and you always will be." This says a lot about Loki's fears, and being alone is one of his biggest. But that's the thing, he found these people, he's not alone anymore! So of course it is extremely hard for him to just...give this up? It's not the first time he faces Casey and Mobius (Don?) not knowing him. His reaction "Not again" shows how scary this is, and we can obviously deduce that from the first episode. Not only everything is at risk of just disappearing into a void after the Loom explosion, when they are still there, still living, they don't remember him. Yet Loki finds a way to steady himself, and find everyone in all this mess.

But also, I don't think that wanting your friends back is something selfish, as Sylvie said. After going through different views over the same thing: "I want to stop He Who Remains" to "I want the TVA back" to finally Loki admiting that he wants his friends back, this is a matter that concerns many people, not just one. Besides, he did say that after all of it is done, they can return to their timelines as they never left. That doesn't sound really selfish to me. In fact, it reminds me of something Vision said to Wanda a whole ago: "What is grief, if not love persevering?". Then not wanting to be alone is a lack, a void persevering and waiting to be filled. And if that implies saving the Multiverse as well, then so be it (but that is definitely NOT the only reason Loki does all of this. He wants, and now can, rewrite the story for the better. For everyone, not only for himself.)

As of episode 5: Science/Fiction Loki is one of the most powerful beings in the entire MCU. Being able to travel back at any given point in time and space just by willing it into existence isn't a small thing. This, I believe, is something we deserve to see Loki in control of. Maybe it sounds a little too much to say that the whole fate of Marvel is in his hands now, but...it kinda is, isn't it? If not for Loki, we'd face the same disappearance as in Infinity War, only 100% now, not only 50.

I have been waiting and theorising for a long time that Loki will become the God of Stories. The fact that we might see it in less than a week is...something.

Also judging by the posters (which show different outfits from different times) there's a new suit we'll see him in on screen, and I can't wait!

Thanks for reading <3

#fangirling #loki #tom hiddleston #sylvie #mobius #god of stories #GOD OF STORIES!!!#agent of asgard #agent of asgard comic book #genderfluid loki #lokius

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wackybuddiemewbs · 2 months

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Still not done. For reasons. Wacky brian go brrrrr. Happy new season, peeps!

This Future We Choose

Part 3/???

Part 1 • Part 2

Buck knew this was going to bite him in the ass eventually. He just had hoped it would be a while longer until he’d have to face the consequences for his actions. He will blame his stupidly bruised ribs for it, but of course his research material had to slide out of his folder and sail to the ground, just as he was about to show his sister the seating table he’d prepared for the wedding.

And of course, Maddie instantly recognized what those papers were, picked them up before he could bend down himself, and gave him that look.

While everyone knows by now that him and Natalia are no longer a thing, this was the thing he’d meant to keep between himself and Eddie a while longer. But fortune continues to be anywhere but on his side.

So his time is up, as his sister’s stern look at him will tell him with utmost surety.

“What are these?” Maddie asks.

“Research?” Buck answers, tight-lipped.

“Why are you researching that?”

“Coz I wanted to?”

Maddie rolls her eyes at him. “Evan.”

“Well, what do you think?” he grumbles.

“So you… seriously consider adoption? Or fostering a child?” she asks, her tone shifting to something more serious and thus something Buck knows he will find impossible to escape from.

Buck can feel his jaw tensing up. “That’s what started it, yeah.”

It started out feeling great, actually. Buck felt the usual excitement he has bubbling up in his stomach when he finds a new field of interest and learns all about it. It felt like it was all coming together, like he was coming back together, like he was heading in all the right directions at long last.

But it doesn’t matter how you start the journey, it matters how you end it.

And Buck got the sinking feeling a while ago that this journey ended before it ever truly began.

“I had… no clue, to be honest. That this is something you were considering now. I mean, I always knew you wanted kids, but… this is much more concrete than just a general wish to want children further down the road,” Maddie mutters pensively, her eyes drifting back to the brochures.

Buck rolls his shoulders. “Well, I guess actually dying sheds some light on how short life is.”

Maddie shoots him a stern look yet again, the kind of look that makes him cringe the same way it did when he was still a kid. Buck knows he shouldn’t be joking about it as much as he still does, especially with Maddie present. But sometimes, he can’t help himself. Not because he thinks death is funny, that his death was. But, as of late, he starts to think that his death was indeed some kind of cosmic joke at his expenses.

So why shouldn’t I laugh it up, at least?

“A lot’s happened this year that made me look at what I really want in life,” Buck chooses to say instead. “And… and one thing I can say for sure is that I want to become a father.”

Maddie touches his forearm lightly. “That’s great. It really is. And I’m not… I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“I get that. I was surprised, too,” Buck replies.

“But… why would you keep this from us, from me? This is great news!”

Buck makes a face. “Because it’s weird?”

Because it’s futile?

“You wanting kids is not weird at all. Honestly, I’m still surprised you don’t have one already. You always loved kids, so much. And you’re great with them. I mean, just look at Jee doting on you. And you sure came around a lot, so I wondered that you didn’t…,” Maddie says, her voice trailing off.

Buck nudges her lightly. “Hey, I got the talk early on in my life. And I was taught very emphatically to always use protection, always.”

“Don’t remind me,” she grunts. “Because I was the one who had to give the talk to you.”

“I appreciated the diagrams and the flash cards. Has me very sure you’re gonna put out the greatest PowerPoint presentation ever for Jee, once it’s time to talk about the birds and the bees,” Buck laughs.

“So, there’s nothing weird at all about you wanting kids. I find it weird that you’ve been keeping this to yourself for so long, though. I mean, judging by the dates on some of the printouts, you’ve been doing research for a few weeks, at least,” Maddie says, gesturing at the apparent evidence of his own failures.

“Well, once it dawned on me that this is what I wanted, I guess I just wanted to get a better understanding of what’s involved in the process before announcing my intentions,” Buck explains. Which is true enough. He figured that research would make it less scary, less daunting. While Buck is considered to be somewhat the “daredevil” on the job, he can’t say the same is true when it comes to those private matters. That’s why he actually went through the hassle to print things out, to have physical proof, to make this just a bit more real.

But in the end, none of it worked.

In the end, it’s all just fantasy and make-believe.

“But why not talk to me?” He can hear the pain there, which Buck probably should have anticipated.

“I wasn’t trying to keep this from you,” he tells her in all earnest. Sure, Buck didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t want to leave Maddie out of the picture in particular.

I just wanted to have something to show for it. And look at me now, winding up empty-handed yet again.

“But you did not want to tell me, even though you’re sure that this is what you want,” she argues. “I just want to understand why.”

“I… I don’t know. I felt like I needed more information before saying anything, to anyone. I just started out with the premise that I wanted to be a father, really. But how? That was a big question mark for me. It still is. So I figured that I’d want to know what to announce at least, like… I wanna foster, I wanna adopt…”

She shakes her head slowly. “That’s not why you wouldn’t say anything, though.”

And of course she is right, of course Maddie sees through it. She’s been trained at reading him since they were children. Maddie raised him, so she sees the things that Buck is always busy to hide. And while it still saddens him that his big sister had to shoulder that responsibility, Buck knows that she will keep watching out for him the same way he looks out for her.

Us against the rest of the world, right?

“If you know the answer already, then why do you keep asking?” Buck doesn’t meet her gaze, he can’t.

“Because I’d rather hear it from you,” Maddie answers.

He sighs. “Honestly? I feel like it’s a good thing I didn’t announce anything, because I feel like this isn’t going anywhere.”

Maddie blinks at him. “So you don’t want to… be a father anymore?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then why doesn’t it go anywhere?” She frowns.

Buck did, too, frown a lot, at himself. He frowned at the reflection in the bathroom mirror, his faint outline on the computer screen. He frowned at his own thoughts, and his own feelings. Because they didn’t make sense anymore. Whatever he thought he had figured out about himself, it did not fit together. Like he found some puzzle pieces, but they come from different sets.

“Because the more I look at those brochures and papers, the more I realize that this isn’t… that’s not me,” Buck admits.

“Well, there’s other options.”

“I know.”

He researched, he looked, he tried to find something different. Only to come back to the same spot over and over again. To be stuck, all over again.

Because fortune is not my friend. Because I seemingly have to keep living in waiting mode.

“But?”

“But I don’t want any of those options,” Buck says.

“So you want to be a father… but you don’t want to go for any of the options that’d make you a father?” Maddie asks, looking rightfully confused.

And if you put it like that, it really makes absolutely no sense at all. Which seems oddly fitting. Because Buck has a tendency to want the things he knows for a fact he can’t have. His parents’ love, for who he is, and not just for who he can be to other people. The feeling of being enough, of no longer needing any software updates. A world where he’s enough to protect the people he loves from all harm there is.

And someone to love me anyway.

“I didn’t pretend like this was making any sense, so I won’t start now,” Buck grumbles. He fixes his gaze on Maddie, looking at her with pleading eyes. “Can we just pretend like this never happened?”

He is really good at that, for better or worse.

“No,” is the definitive answer from his big sister, which he knew would come.

“Pretty please with sprinkles on top?” he bargains anyway.

“Evan.”

Buck knows that when Maddie uses that tone of voice when saying his name, there is really no escape anymore. Because Maddie is one of the few people who can actually speak to Evan. The vulnerable kid who only ever cried wolf to be loved by the people who refused to see him. The kid that was willing to bleed out for just one concerned look from his mother and father.

Buck keeps Evan deep inside his chest, for precisely that reason. Because he is that fragile, that broken, inside and out. Buck is stronger than that. He has grown. He has matured. He built up enough scar tissue and callouses. His bones broke often enough, and grew together strong, so he can catch himself if he falls. And he found other people to look at him a different way, to help him back to his feet.

Perhaps foolishly, Buck still tries to protect Evan as much as he can from the outside world. Because Evan doesn’t know how to seem fine. Evan only knows how to get hurt to be seen. Evan knows how to bleed, but not how to stop the bleeding. Buck knows how to become good at bearing the pain without anyone seeing. So not to become a burden.

But he knows he can’t fool Maddie. Because she knows Evan as well as Buck. She loves them both. And she will always manage to lure Evan out of the box deep inside Buck’s chest, the way she’s always managed since they were kids. But once he is outside, Buck knows he can’t shield him, and he can’t keep him from showing all the places he aches that’d Maddie mean to kiss better.

“You want to be a father, but you don’t want to go with any of the options that might make that wish come true,” Maddie tells him. “And you can’t even look me in the eye, saying it. Why?”

Buck’s eyes drift back to the brochures and printouts still on the floor, the ones in her hand, and he can feel his chest tighten to the point that it gets hard to breathe. And it’s not because of the bruised ribs. It’s because Evan long since crawled his way out, begging to be loved anyway. And Buck can’t tell him to go back and keep waiting.

Because the time won’t come.

Because the more he looks at those brochures, the more he is reminded of the reason why he can’t get there after all. Why his hopes are yet again in vain.

“Because the more research I do, the more I realize that I don’t want any of that. Not like this, at least,” he admits at last.

It’s no use anyway.

And he can bear that pain. He will have to, for Evan and himself.

“I… still don’t understand what you mean by that,” Maddie answers faintly.

“I don’t either! I thought I finally figured it out. The great epiphany! That I wanna be a father, more than anything. And that’s still true. It’s so damn true it hurts. I want to be a father, so bad. I want a child that’s mine and that I don’t have to give to anyone else.”

Tears sting in Buck’s eyes, though that’s just about the smallest pain he feels. Even his stupid ribs don’t hurt as much as this. And it just isn’t fair. To finally know what you want, only to realize that you can’t have that. Because being aimless is one thing, but knowing you won’t ever come to the shores you call home? That’s damn well a curse.

Maddie moves into his line of vision. She places a warm hand on his back, extends her other hand to squeeze his forearm.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright,” she soothes.

“It’s actually not.”

It hasn’t been in a long time, but the fool he is, he failed to see it. Because he wanted to seem fine, because he wanted to be fine again. For everyone else and himself. So Evan would remain where he put him, protected, so Buck could get back to his feet and find a way to move forward again. To maybe find a life where Evan could come out and not bleed out from a lack of love.

“Why not? I can only repeat it, there’s plenty of options to fulfill your dream,” Maddie tries to reassure him.

“There really isn’t. And that’s what makes this so damn stupid.” Tears now roll freely down his cheeks. Buck wipes at them angrily, relishes the small burn that comes with rubbing skin against skin.

“Why?”

“Because I know I want to be a father, but I… I want to be a father to a child I know I can’t be a father to,” Buck whimpers, almost choking on those truths that should have no business burning so much down his throat.

“You mean Connor’s and Kameron’s…,” Maddie mutters, but Buck interjects rather harshly, “No.”

Oh, and how he wished that was true. Because that would be easy. Anyone would understand, everyone assumes anyway. Buck wished it was that easy, but this situation only made him realize what he wanted, and just like he had to give over that child, he had to realize that he couldn’t ever get to where he wants to be.

“What child, then, if not their son?”

“Eddie’s son. Christopher.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

Biggest fuckin’ joke of my life.

“Christopher.”

“Yeah,” Buck croaks.

Christopher, always Christopher. In every brochure, every stock image, he saw that little guy with his dorky smile and glasses, heard his giggling, felt the way only that little guy could hug him. The boy he thought he had to give up on, knows he has to learn to let go, to be what he wants to be: A father.

Buck swallows thickly. “You know, I’ve tried to put some distance between us, lately. Between Eddie, Chris, and I. To, to figure this father thing out. Because I felt like I was… like I was using them, to have the second-best thing to being a father. But I… I miss them so damn much.”

Maddie keeps rubbing circles on his back, just as she’d done when they were both still kids and he could not be consoled after their parents looked right through him yet again.

“I… I keep seeing Christopher every time I turn the page in one of those stupid brochures. I don’t just want to have a kid that’s mine. I want that one specific kid to be mine. Even though I know he ain’t, even though I know he won’t ever be,” Buck cries, no longer able to hold it in, to contain it.

The love he can’t express, he pours it right out, like bad blood, but it just keeps on coming and coming and coming.

He might be what Eddie would want for his son, should something happen to him, but Buck isn’t that outside that scenario. So long there’s Eddie, and God knows he will make sure of it, he won’t be that for Christopher. He can’t be that for Christopher.

In the end, always the backup plan, isn’t it?

“Christopher loves you,” Maddie argues.

“But not as his dad, never as that. Because I’m not his father. Even in the event that something should happen to Eddie, and I’d take care of him… he wouldn’t be mine, not really. Inside my heart, yes, but… never outside it.”

Bobby once told Chimney that having a child is like having a heart outside of yourself. But Buck know he can’t have that, that he won’t ever get there. He can only treasure that child inside his heart, so no one can see just how much he loves that kid. Because the love he feels for him, he knows he is not entitled to.

I won’t ever be enough to them to be entitled to it. Because that isn’t my place. Not really. More than a guest, but only ever temporary. Never forever.

“Eddie would let me, that’s not the thing. But… but I can’t go on pretending, in my heart, that… that we are a family, in that sense,” Buck whimpers.

“Eddie considers you family.”

“Yeah, but not in the way I’d want him to consider me.”

Which is the icing on top of that shit sundae.

“What?”

“Forget it,” Buck replies quickly.

Because he doesn’t know how much more he can take. Because everything hurts, hurts more than his stupid ribs, more than his stinging eyes, or his inflamed cheeks. And Buck doesn’t want any more pain. He doesn’t want any more pain for Evan who is outside his little box right now, for that part of him to come to the realization that there is yet another thing they failed at.

“No, tell me, please,” Maddie begs. “I want to help.”

“I just know that this is nothing you can help me with,” Buck whispers. “Even though you’re my big sister and I grew up thinking you’re my personal superhero. But this… you can’t fix. And I think I can’t either.”

Maddie takes a deep breath, considers his words, then searches his eyes again. “Alright, then maybe I can’t fix this. But I… I know for a fact that not talking about things that hurt us, scare us, terrify us… those darkest spots in our lives… that’s even worse. And I won’t have my little brother repeat the mistakes I’ve made.”

“You didn’t…”

“It doesn’t matter,” she interjects sternly. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t want you to keep pretending like all is fine. Like you have to keep something from me, or anyone else. You can always tell me these things. Always. Even if you may actually want to say them to someone else, you can always say them to me first. I don’t pretend to have the answers, but I can listen. And I always will, Evan. But I need to hear it from you.”

Buck looks at his sister for a long moment. He thinks about how far she’s come, how much she’s overcome. And how glad he is that she finally gets some of the pay off for the years of sacrifice. In the end, Maddie is still his personal superhero, not because she is invincible, but because she wears her scars and comes out stronger every time. Because like him, she never gives up, or even if she almost did, she fought her way back.

He takes a deep breath, then another. Maddie is right, he should say those things to someone else. But the person he’d normally go to for this? He can’t say. Buck screws his eyes shut, trying to forget all that, if only for a moment.

“Losing something can sure make you realize how much you loved it, even if you knew you loved it all along. I remember reading that, when I was still recuperating after the lightning strike.”

Buck read a lot, while at the hospital. Not just self-help books. When he stumbled over that quote, he had some sense of how that rang true for him. He just couldn’t put his finger on it, not really. Then his life took one sharp turn after the other, with Kameron and Connor and the baby, with Natalia.

The book fell back into his hands when she got the last of her things. And when he flipped to that page, it felt like lighting was striking through him again. Because he was right back in his coma dream, and it was glaring at him, laughing at him.

Who wasn’t there? Who was the one person who’s so close to you you didn’t see? Who, hm?

“I’m not following,” Maddie mutters, blinking at him.

“The more distance I put myself between myself and Eddie and Christopher, the more I realized just how alone I feel when I don’t have them near me,” Buck says.

“As I said, they love you, too.”

“And I love them, God, I love them. But I can’t love them like I wanna love them. And that fuckin’ hurts.”

Buck loved before. He knows what heartbreak feels like. But he never loved like this, and at some point, he wished he never found out that he could love like this. Because it’s a kind of love that burns even worse than the one he still feels for his parents. Even though they can’t love him back. Even though they made him walk through fire every day of his life. Because it’s the kind of fire he will keep walking into, against better judgment. Because he could learn to live without his parents, but he can’t learn to be without them.

“I can’t love Christopher like a father. And I can’t love Eddie like a partner. I can’t love them as my family I go home to every single night. I can’t love them like I do, and it sucks, and it hurts, and I just want it to stop.”

“P, partner?” Maddie stammers, still taking that in.

“Yeah, that’s about the face I made when it dawned on me,” Buck huffs bitterly. “I mean, in true Buck fashion, I kept missing all the signs. It’s always been there, and I… not even all of those epiphanies I feel I had in my coma dream prepared me for that one. Eddie wasn’t in it, in that dream, not really. Though that’s probably the great message, and I waltzed right past it.”

That his heart wasn’t in it, literally. That his heart wasn’t in that supposedly perfect life. The man who let him into his own, wasn’t there. The man who’d given his heart over to him, telling him that he is not expendable. The world that was without Eddie was the one without Christopher. And that world may have had his parents loving him in it, may have had Daniel alive, but it didn’t have them. And how can such a world ever be any good?

Buck has been wrecking his brain about it. Ever since he broke up with Natalia, he felt like he was finally gaining perspective. Only for the light to switch and put Eddie and Christopher in the spotlight. At first, he liked to think that they were simply his measure to go by. Because Buck wants to be a dad like Eddie, loving, caring, kind. And he wants a kid just like Christopher. So that seemed straightforward enough. Until it became even more twisted. Because the harder he looked, the more he realized they weren’t just the model Buck was going by, they were it. Both of them. Not just Christopher. But Eddie.

Always Eddie.

Buck can’t say he thought about Eddie as someone he wanted to be with, romantically. Sure, an attractive guy, always. Someone Buck could unashamedly say he learned to love dearly. But he can’t say he longed for him the way he is doing it now. Or rather, he now sees all of those signs he missed, all the chances he missed. The things he didn’t see, because he looked at Eddie through the lens of friendship, of what it was, and not what it could be. Because Buck didn’t even dare to think outside that box. Despite his bravado, he was not brave enough. He liked not being a guest in Eddie’s house. And he was fine with that, just that.

I never thought I could be more than that.

But Buck grew, and he’s coming to terms with it that he gets to want more, be more. He took a step back and saw more than he used to. But once you start to think outside the box, you can’t go back to its confined space. You can’t go back to only just. Once you open your heart to wanting more, it won’t be satisfied with the lesser.

How can I be enough, if I am not enough to have them?

So now, he’s left with longing and missing again. He wants the things he can’t have. And Buck won’t jeopardize the happiness either Eddie or Christopher or Marisol have found together. He won’t be that person. He can’t sink that low. Even if that means he is back to greedily stuffing the crumbs of life with Eddie and Christopher into his mouth, like a guy who’s been left out in the desert for weeks without a single thing to eat.

So maybe he’s good enough for Eddie and Christopher, to be a part of their family. But he won’t be that part of the family. Maybe Marisol will fill that seat. Maybe it’s going to be someone who’s not even in Eddie’s life yet. But no matter what, this person won’t be him.

So what is he even doing, researching ways to have a child, to be a father? How could it be fair to that child? When, in the back of his head, he’d always wind a string around the mere image of Eddie and Christopher as part of the family he might build?

“I’m still wrapping my head around you being into guys. But then again, I never tried too hard to look at that as your sister,” Maddie says, shaking her head wide-eyed.

“I never dated guys, I just got down dirty with them.” Buck shrugs.

He never made it a secret, but he didn’t make it explicit either.

Except for when I told them about my track record in dating yoga instructors. Because those definitely weren’t all ladies…

Buck never had a serious relationship with guys. He just fooled around with them. And especially in the beginning, it may well be that he liked things a bit too rough. Which should show that he belonged in therapy since a young age, because no, that was surely not healthy at all.

“Yeah, no, I don’t need to know that. At all. Ever.” Maddie screws her eyes shut.

“I figured.”

Buck never cared for a label to put on that, he still doesn’t. Had anyone asked him back in the day, he would have said that he’s simply not picky. Today he can safely say that he is extremely picky, to the point that he reduced his entire happiness to two people, to the point that he can’t look at anyone else the way he looks at Eddie these days.

“Alright, I’m… I’m sorry, that caught me off-guard a bit. But… but in all seriousness now, yes?” Maddie goes on to say.

He blinks at her. “Yeah?”

“There’s nothing wrong with realizing that you love people, or that you’ve fallen in love with someone, even if it’s your best friend,” she tells him.

“But there’s something wrong with wanting to say it, to make them love you back in kind, when you know you really shouldn’t,” Buck argues. “Even if it’s your best friend.”

Or precisely because he is.

“We all just want to be loved in the end. And I know for a fact that you love big. But it’s not wrong to want to be loved back in kind,” Maddie points out.

“It’s wrong to want that, knowing where Eddie stands in life right now. Knowing…” He doesn’t have to finish for Maddie to understand where he is going with this.

“People break up, you know,” she offers, which only ever has him snort. “Like I’m going to hinge my hopes on him breaking up with Marisol.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“The problem is that Eddie loves me, but only as a friend. And even if he broke up with Marisol tomorrow… he won’t ever look at me any other way than that. And I can’t unsee what I’ve seen. I can’t look at him any other way than… this. And… and I feel like I’m losing them because of that. Because if I keep getting too close, I will… I will fuck it up, I know I will. Because I wear my emotions on my sleeve and I… this will come out eventually. And I will make a mess of everything. And I… I can’t do that.”

Fresh tears well up in his eyes.

Sure, he wants more. Sure, he wants to feel like he is enough. He tries to get there. But he knows he can’t have Eddie and Christopher, no matter how hard he tries. Not like this, at least. Because this is not about his worth or lack thereof. It’s just now how they see him. But what he can afford even less than this pain is the thought to lose the ways he has them.

He’d rather be less to them than nothing at all.

“But I also can’t keep away from them,” he continues, almost choking on the words. “I just… I don’t know what to do. I just know it hurts, no matter what I do. And I want it to stop, but it just doesn’t.”

Maddie pulls him into a hug, trying to cover up as much of him as she can, despite their difference in size. Buck sinks against her, tries to soak up her warmth to cast out the cold dread of being back where he began, only to remain stuck there.

Because there is no longer a world for him he can escape to, where he isn’t in love with Eddie, where he doesn’t want Christopher to be his son, where he doesn’t want them to be his family. It vanished, slipped through his fingertips.

“Oh, Evan.”

Buck used to think that Maddie’s hugs would always heal him. He still wants to believe that, but he can’t trust it. Because Evan is out there, and he looks back at him, begging to know why they can’t be loved anyway.

And Buck has no answer to that.

And he fears he never will.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #evan buck buckley #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz x evan buckley #buddie fanfic #fanfic #911 spoilers #i guess

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