happyhauntt

[happyhauntt]

god love's fucking embarrassing.

for @summerofbuddie week four: canon rewrite! aka may grant is so fucking done with buck's bullshit. may grant pov • rated g • 4.8k words.

May Grant is so fucking done with Buck’s shenanigans. When she finds out that he has finally discovered he might be into guys — a revelation that shocked literally nobody — May is thrilled. Until she learns that the guy in question is not, in fact, Eddie Diaz. Now, May didn’t spend several months working alongside Eddie at Dispatch, listening to him wax poetic about his so-called ‘work partner’, for Buck to get his shit together with someone else. She didn’t watch Eddie Diaz wait for days in the doorway of a hospital room, watching with his sad, wet fucking cow eyes for Buck to realise his feelings for someone else. She didn’t spend the last several years watching and waiting with bated breath for the day they’d arrive at one of the family barbecues not just together, but together, for Evan Fucking Buckley to go and make out with a guy that isn’t Eddie Fucking Diaz. Fortunately, May has a lot of practice at being a meddling sister, and she has far too much emotionally invested in these guys to let her step-brother make such an egregious mistake.

Or, the post 7x04 AU where May learns that Buck is going on a date with Tommy, not Eddie, and leaves her very busy college workload to go and talk some goddamn sense into him.

read on ao3.

[happyhauntt]

BUCK + EDDIE  |  please don't leave quite yet [+7x09.] | watch on yt.

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🦉

My partner critiques my fics in memes, I felt this on a very personal level.

[happyhauntt]

i didn’t understand the black eyed peas when i was a child but as an adult they’re a very fascinating group to me. the way will i am talks about partying and the club is like he’s relaying information he received from secondary sources

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i'm probably the rare tumblr user who would actually like to see more compelling fiction (especially in genres like scifi and fantasy, which typically don't seriously explore these kinds of stakes) about parenthood and how it actually impacts the characters in question, but in the rare instances that writers do give us characters becoming parents, it's usually to tack on a cheap happy ending because what women really want is to be a mother! which is, how you say, bad

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did you know? you can meet people who will love you unconditionally for who you are. but watch out! the distance

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Has anyone figured out what’s so viscerally wrong with this woman yet

[happyhauntt]

i think that the parallels between this fight and the ones in 8x09 are really interesting. both times, eddie accuses buck of making everything about himself, but that's only true in 8x09.

when buck was being a dick in 8x09, it wasn't that he wanted eddie not to leave; he wanted to know eddie didn't want to leave him, that eddie cared enough for this to hurt, even if it was something he felt he had to do. and although it manifests differently tonally in eddie, the fight in 8x17 is rooted in the exact same feeling. eddie wants to know buck needs him, and he wants to know buck is in the trenches of grief right there with him.

i think we're meant to understand eddie is in the wrong and lashing out in 8x17, just like buck was in 8x09. we needed to see both buck and eddie be irrational and messy and sad during this season, because we needed to see that both of them are equally invested in their relationship. when they're in conflict, it's not that buck is an immature asshole and it's not that eddie is angry and withdrawn. it's that they both need and love each other so much that they feel hurt when they think the other doesn't also need and love them as much.

[happyhauntt]

"Weird energy in here today" I say, referring to the inside of my brain.

[happyhauntt]

SUMMER OF BUDDIE. ━━ week five: minimalism. (@summerofbuddie. )

- quote unknown.

[happyhauntt]

@summerofbuddie week four — canon appreciation: buck and eddie through the years.

[happyhauntt]

stay, i pray you — nikolai lantsov.

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: nikolai has a decision to make. anya makes it for him.

─── pairing: nikolai lantsov & anya kamenev (original character.)

─── warnings: takes place during seige & storm just after sturmhond reveals himself to be nikolai. angst, hurt/no comfort, pre-established relationship. this one's gonna hurt.

─── word count: 2.1k.

     "I've had an idea."

     The military encampment at Kribirsk is as familiar to Anya as the freckles on Nikolai's nose, the garden of her father's estate, the brittle ache of her injured knee. Crashing the Hummingbird had not been part of the plan — and her body had certainly not appreciated the impromptu swim in the nearby lake — but the First Army officers had recognised her and Nikolai, affording them all the honours of their stations and escorting them to the commander's tent.

     Anya hadn't felt all that comfortable with it. She may have been Lieutenant Corporal before her discharge, but it has become increasingly difficult to love the army that raised her while it serves the country that abandoned her. General Raevsky had once been her commanding officer. She and Nikolai had served under him on the northern border, oh, how many years ago now?

They'd both been green as grass, infantry grunts who'd never handled a rifle, never fired a shot or seen a battlefield begin to bleed. Raevsky greeted her like an old friend when they stumbled onto shore, asked how she was fairing as if he hadn't seen her only a few months ago, before she helped the Sun Summoner flee Ravka by smuggling her onto a ship bound for Novyi Zem.

     The tent Anya finds herself in is small but serviceable, with clean, fresh clothes laid out on the bed and a small plate of food waiting on the table. Nikolai disappeared shortly after their arrival, most likely to offer up an explanation to the commanders, but when he finally reappears, he finds Anya combing out the knots of her damp hair with her fingers, changed into a clean, loose shirt and army-issue trousers. She feels as if she never left the army and the thought makes her nauseous.

     "You have an idea?" She raises an eyebrow at him as he steps tentatively inside, allowing the tent flap to fall closed behind him. A playful smirk dances over her face. "Given that your last idea sent us crash-landing into a lake, I must admit I feel a little apprehensive."

     He huffs at her, an almost-chuckle that sends alarm bells ringing in her mind. A jibe like that would usually send him on a ranting spiral, fussing all about how his invention hadn’t been the reason they crashed and had, actually, worked exactly as intended for the majority of their journey.

     Teasing him is easy, and the way he smiles when she does sends warmth pouring through her. Seeing him so subdued is… troubling, to say the least. He hangs up his sword and crosses the tent to perch on the edge of her bed. His eyes remain fixed on the floor the whole time.

     Kneeling in front of him, she allows her fingers to graze over the bruise blossoming on his cheek. His eyes fall closed for a moment. "She really got you, didn't she? Our dear Sun Summoner has a mean right hook."

     "Believe me, I know. Scrappy little thing." Nikolai flexes his jaw and opens his eyes, and all once, Anya knows. It's written in the tiny lines between his brows and the quirk of his mouth and the ache in his eyes.

     "What is it?" she murmurs. Her fingers linger on his face, and he leans into the warmth of her, just slightly. Her knee protests, but she doesn't dare try to stand up. "What's happened?"

     He swallows roughly. "I've told you before, haven't I, about coming back here and helping Ravka. About fixing it before it's too late."

     Whispered conversations in a dimly-lit cabin flutter through her mind. Wishes pressed against her skin with kisses, hopes and dreams caught up in a lover's embrace. I could be better than Vasily, he'd said, and she had believed that, the way she believed the sun would rise in the morning. I could save Ravka.

     She hadn't told him the truth, then. She'd taken his dreams and folded them up into her own chest, to keep safe beside her heart, but she hadn't wanted it the way he did. Anya would sooner see Ravka burn. She cannot bring herself to feel mercy, not where this Saints-forsaken country is concerned. Not after it abandoned her when she needed it most.

     Now, she nods. A damp tendril of hair falls past her eyes. "I remember. You said you... you would find a way to convince Vasily to step aside, and your father would make you the heir. But it wasn't a plan. You said you didn't know how you'd do it, yet. Just that you wished you could."

     She may never forget it. The panic that struck her, bone-deep. The way his ambitions have haunted her ever since. He may not have known it then, but a ticking clock had been set that day. Anya never knew when their time would run out. Only that she would never be ready for it.

     He smiles, now. A rueful thing. There is no need to hide with her, no need to put on that winsome devil-may-care act he wears like armour. She is not a politician he can sway to his side, nor a danger he can charm his way out of, and yet he smiles at her. She is so beautiful, and soft, and she's not wearing her armour, either. Not here, not with him. There is nothing to smile about, and in a few moments it will all be different, but right now she is his, so he has to smile. He has to.

     He may weep, otherwise.

     "Kolya." Her voice is so quiet, barely more than a whisper, and he is so sure that she knows, already, without him having to breathe a word.

     His throat goes horribly tight, an invisible hand wrapped tight around his windpipe, as if that will stop his confession. His eyes flit to the roof for a moment. They start to sting.

     "Alina's power is the key to Ravka's survival," he says. Every word feels like lead on his tongue. "The Apparat has turned her into a living Saint, and the people love her. If I'm to make a bid for the throne and convince Vasily to step aside, it can't just be that I'm the best man for the job. That won't matter. But an alliance with the Sun Summoner might sway the odds in my favour."

     Anya watches him for a long moment. He holds his breath as time stretches, and eternity seems to pass before she even blinks. She withdraws her hand, allowing it to rest lightly on his thigh. The absence of her touch lingering in his face burns like a fresh bullet wound.

     He wonders if you can die from missing someone who hasn't gone anywhere yet.

     "An alliance with Alina." Anya narrows her eyes as the pieces click together in her mind." You mean—"

     "I'm going to ask her to marry me." His throat feels rough as sandpaper. "A political marriage, in name only. The game has changed and Alina is the only one who can level the playing field."

     He keeps talking, but Anya can hardly hear him. Her brain began to buzz with white noise the moment she heard the word marriage, as if her skull is home to a thousand angry wasps and someone suddenly decided to shake the nest. She can feel her blood rushing in her ears, her heartbeat thudding in her throat, but she doesn't dare give herself away.

     Anya Kamenev is a soldier, but she is also a future duchess. Her mother would be proud to learn that all those etiquette lessons didn't go to waste. Summoning a decade of training, her old governess' instructions rattling through her mind, her face remains delicate and empty. Not a muscle twitch or a quiver of her lip, not a hint of sorrow flashing in her eyes. She might as well be carved from marble. Her heart sits in her chest like a stone.

     "Nastya." The nickname he gave her in their army days is salt in an open wound. Nikolai reaches for her, grasps her hands in his as if she is all that can anchor him to this world. "I don't know what to do."

     "Of course you do." Somehow her voice is gentle, even though she feels jagged at the edges, like touching her might make him bleed. An instinct tugs at her, to curl her fingers around his own and hold him just as tight, but she can't bring herself to move. "You wouldn't bring it up to me if you hadn't already thought it through. You're a clever man, Nikolai. The cleverest I know, and don't let that go to your head. You know what you have to do now. You just want my permission to do it."

     Is it crueller, somehow, to ask for permission? To hand over her heart, and the knife too, as if that will make it hurt less when he carves it from her chest?

     A wet laugh bubbles out of him. "Trust you to keep my ego in check even now, Anya."

     "Someone has to," she says. She heaves herself into a standing position, wincing as her knee cracks and tiny bolts of lightning spike up her leg. "Although I think Alina will do a brilliant job. I don't mind handing over that responsibility to her."

     "Don't." Nikolai is on his feet in a moment. One hand remains in hers, his grip tight as a vice, but the other curls around the back of her neck. His thumb brushes softly over her cheek. The warmth of it makes her shudder. "Don't say that like you're going anywhere. I'm not sure I can do any of this without you."

     "Of course you can," Anya murmurs. Saints, she isn't sure the torture she endured at the hands of Shu Han's scientists hurt this much. If she closes her eyes, she can almost believe he's taken a blade and gutted her right here, like a fish on the deck of his ship.

     A ragged breath tears out of him as he says, "Alright, perhaps I can. But I don't want to."

     When he kisses her, it doesn't feel like a kiss goodbye. It doesn't feel like their last kiss in a thousand. There's a ferocity to him as he clutches her, teeth clashing, but that doesn't change the truth of it. He can hold her as tightly as he wants, but they both know she has always been smoke in his hands.

     “I would give you anything,” he says against her mouth, pressed together like hands in prayer. She feels his breath stutter against her tongue, hitched with a sob he will not set free. “Name it. Palaces and jewels, the moon, a temple built in your name, the heads of every man who ever harmed you served on a silver platter. Name it and it’s yours. Just stay.”

     Your heart. The tear slides down her cheek unbidden, and he kisses it away as he has done a thousand times before. She catches his lips with her own and kisses him again, fingers tangled in tendrils of his hair, still rough with saltwater no matter how many times he washes it. Your heart, your hand, a life with you away from this Saints-forsaken country.

     She’ll stay. She will, because Anya is a soldier, and though she no longer has any loyalty to Ravka, she still believes in him. And there is no pain in the world that could hurt more than abandoning him now, no matter how much she wishes she could.

     “Anything.” His voice, barely a whisper, a plea to those forgotten saints who have never seen fit to bestow a miracle upon them. “Anything, my darling.”

     He sinks to his knees before her, presses his forehead to her stomach. She leans and kisses the crown of his scalp, lingering a moment to breathe in the salt and sea of him. Ravka will never know how lucky it is to have a prince so loyal. She doesn’t know what they’d done to earn such devotion.

     “I know.” Despite the tears, her voice is deceptively still. Your heart. But he had already sworn it to his country, long before he ever loved her. “I want the same as you, Nikolai; peace and prosperity for Ravka.”

     He snorts against her stomach. His arms wrap tightly around her middle. “Liar.”

     “Always.” Pushing him away would not be the worst torture she has endured, but she worries it will scar her far longer than any blade could.

[happyhauntt]

you may be losing the idgaf war but they wouldn't even let me enlist. on account of my poet's temperament.

[happyhauntt]

doctor who did so wrong by ncuti and varada. this whole thing revolved around RUBY being the catalyst. belinda's arc was so haphazardly put together- they basically made her a ruby substitute, gave her a story arc that made no sense & then gave ruby so much of her screentime this season.

and 15 was never given the time to come into his own, develop, or face other classic villains. he started with a previous doctor and ended with a previous doctor. they never let him just....be.

they both deserved SO MUCH better than this

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not pro rtd or anti rtd but a secret third thing (capable of understanding every writer has their own strengths and weaknesses, and that my opinion on the overall product isn't objective)

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and what the fuck was that about ruby talking conrad down and wishing him a good life after she said she wanted to fucking punch him. Afyer everything he put her through in reality and then in this fake world. Rtd i am in your WALLS

[happyhauntt]

like eddie’s anger didn’t even last that long. like he went to the couch fuming and buck went to the bedroom also fuming and then maybe an hour or so later eddie was like huh. that was insane. i gotta make an elaborate scheme to make this up for my best but buck. hmmm i know exactly what to do. fly chris to la. an overnight flight. then his broke ass opened the website and actually booked a flight. an overnight, one way ticket. then ig he called his parents and chris very late at night like. hey. Take Chris To The Airport Tomorrow Morning. and his parents were probably like What. and eddie was like do it :). drive him to the airport??? I GUESS??? then he probably slept with a big smile on his face while buck was probably wallowing in the bedroom because eddie was hurting and buck, who’s fluent in eddie, missed it. and when buck woke up he was ready to talk about it. but eddie was gone. and he left a note. saying he went to the airport. he was probably giggling the whole time too. because he’s insane. oh my god eddie diaz you are so crazy and i love you so bad and so does evan buckley and i hope he eats your ass about it.