#and put it on a03

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three 

A03

Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition. 

Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place. 

Black eye, bruised chin, split lip. 

More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck. 

 The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.

Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital. 

Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten. 

He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled. 

(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but. 

He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.) 

"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen. 

Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.

Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair. 

Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."

"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.

"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants." 

Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him. 

Would Harrington pitch a fit? 

Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did? 

Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper. 

Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life? 

Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it. 

Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.

"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--" 

Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out." 

"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.  

"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.

The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying. 

"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.

He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness. 

"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone." 

A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box. 

How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…

He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home. 

"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope. 

He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet. 

There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand. 

Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list. 

Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."

Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that." 

The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."

'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'

Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."

"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face. 

He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him. 

He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.

 "You'll check up on Robin too, right?"  He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?" 

"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."

Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.

Another act that was far beyond the kid's years. 

A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.

(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)

A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.

"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.

No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.

Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here. 

He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder. 

Several somethings, in fact. 

"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck. 

"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick. 

Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie. 

An unfair advantage, really. 

‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly. 

Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.

"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie. 

Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.

Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting. 

"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie." 

Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.

 "What do you mean Si--Wayne." 

"Nice catch.”  Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.” 

It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.

Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much. 

Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither. 

Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.

"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat." 

"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"

Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked. 

He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?" 

"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret. 

"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt." 

Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle. 

"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end." 

Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink. 

"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?" 

"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.

Judged.

Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when  he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be. 

Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless. 

"Anybody else?" He asked. 

"Nobody human." Steve replied. 

"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that. 

He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.

"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?" 

Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency,  I'd be happy to." 

He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through. 

The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation. 

With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus.  "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER." 

All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword  home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it. 

Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair." 

The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound. 

Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble. 

"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.

Steve blinked. "Uh…" 

"You take any today son?" 

Steve his head. 

"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack. 

Course he hadn't. 

"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.

Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in. 

He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once. 

[robinminustherichard]

I Carry You With Every Breath I Take

Buck & Maddie focused, BuckTommy and Madney heavily mentioned.

Gen | No Warnings Apply

Summary: In an effort to be better to their living son, Buck’s parents had sent what could have been called his baby box if it wasn't so obvious that the wood was new and definitely not over thirty years old.

Buck and Tommy are expecting a baby; Buck's parent's attempt at righting a wrong shines a light on what Maddie had forgotten and what Buck never knew.

FULL STORY BELOW CUT

In an effort to be better to their living son, Buck’s parents had sent what could have been called his baby box if it wasn't so obvious that the wood was new and definitely not over thirty years old. Buck was surprised when he took the large package it had come in from the delivery woman's hands and immediately zeroed in on the small Phillip and Margret Buckley that began the return address line. 

Settled in on the couch with the package open before him and the wooden box adorned laid out, Buck sighed. In the twenty minutes since sitting down Buck hadn't yet found the courage to open it. Holding off longer, he checked the cardboard package for a note and found one, along with something pink and velvety. Pulling both out, Buck saw that the pink thing was some sort of box as well, much smaller than the wooden one but almost familiar. When he moved the note off of it, he saw a gold, cursive ‘M’ stamped into the top, and his mind immediately supplied memories of the box and it's permanent place on Maddie's vanity growing up--her jewelry box. 

With the package empty and everything out in front of him, Buck still couldn't open them. He sighed, set his shoulders, and stood up. He grabbed the empty package and moved to take it out to the garage, break it down, and recycle it. The items could wait until he had some back up.

Half an hour later, Buck was still stubbornly walking past the coffee table without looking down at its surface, tidying up the living room and definitely not wishing that Tommy could hurry up and come through the door even though he knew it would be another two hours before he was off shift and headed home.

He arranged their shoes more neatly in the rack by the door, grabbed a hoodie he had thrown onto the stair banister and took it to the laundry room, and took the clean clothes out of the dryer, into a basket, and up to their bedroom. He stood in the doorway of the yellow nursery next door, frowning at the way the new paint smell still lingered. He walked to the window and opened it, letting fresh air ruffle the curtains and air things out. While he stood at the window contemplating the next three small tasks he could dredge up to keep himself busy, he was surprised to see Maddie's car pull into their driveway. 

Wasting no time, Buck headed quickly down the stairs to meet her at the door. When he opened it she was just making it to the porch stairs and she looked as surprised to see him as he was to see her. 

“Buck! Hi! Did you hear my car?” She smiled at him, reaching for a hug. 

Buck hugged her back, laughing quietly. 

“Nah,” he told her, letting her go and gesturing her into the house. “I was opening the window in the nursery and saw you.” 

Maddie perked up at that as she slipped her shoes off and set her purse down in the entryway. 

“Oh! How's it coming? What paint color did you end up choosing?” 

“It's good! We can check it out before you leave. It was a harsh battle between buttercup meadow and bumble breeze, but ultimately the council decided on bumble breeze. I do like it, I just wish the paint smell was gone already.” 

Maddie laughed, following Buck down the hallway towards the living room. 

“The council, huh?” She said, tone clearly and question.” 

“Eddie, Chris, and Sal of course.” Buck told her, glancing back and chuckling. They came into the living room and Buck paused at the long console table that held Tommy's it's not hipster if I’m just old, Evan record player and the large bay window that bathed the living room in rich sunlight every evening. “In reality it was Eddie and Sal absolutely caving to Christopher's choice when he said ‘I think this would have made me happy as a baby’. As if his favorite color wasn't actually blue for years.” 

Maddie laughed again, nodding. “Yeah, I think that would have gotten anyone.” 

Buck nodded, letting the conversation lapse for a few seconds before being direct. 

“Did you need something or--not, not that you can't just drop by or anything, you totally can but--” 

Maddie grinned bringing a hand up to wave Buck's rambling off. 

“No, I had gotten a call from Mom asking me to come over because, quote, “The FedEx is saying that my package for both of you got to Buck's house but I’m worried it will get stolen, Maddie. I've seen that on the news, you know”.” Maddie paused, taking a breath after an honestly passable imitation of their mother's voice. “So I told her I would come over. I would have told her that it was fine, you could handle getting a package, but honestly I didn't want you to get a call on your day off too. I need to pick Jee up from school in an hour and a half anyway, so I figured I would come over. Speaking of which--” 

She pulled out her phone and typed out a text, sending it off with a firm press to the screen before she looked around. 

“I'm telling Mom that you got it.” Here, she paused. “You did get it right? No one actually stole it?” 

Buck laughed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

“No, no. I even signed for it. I already tossed the box but you can see it for yourself, I haven't opened anything yet.” 

Buck led Maddie over to the couch, and plopped down. 

“Oh!” she exclaimed before joining him, hands immediately reaching for the pink box. “Oh, wow. My old jewelry box. I haven't thought about this in years.” She was grinning, running her fingers along the side of it and examining a little lock holding the lid closed that Buck hadn't noticed before. 

Buck hummed, watching Maddie and trying not to look at his part of the package. 

That, however, did not stop Maddie's eyes from leaving her box, skating over the note, and landing--then widening--over the wooden box. 

“Oh.” She said again, less excited this time. “Is that--” 

Buck let out a deep sigh, hand subconsciously reaching up to rub at his next. 

“Yeah, um.” He swallowed “I-uh, I think it's supposed to be my Baby Box. Like the one they gave you before Jee was born.” 

Unable to help himself, Buck laughed a little darkly. 

“Of course, they definitely just got this one from pottery barn last week or something. So, it's not really a Baby Box. I guess it's a “you're thirty-seven and will have a baby soon, so here's something we managed to put together on the fly” box.” 

He lost steam by the time he finished speaking, sighing again. Sometimes all he could do about his parents was sigh. He slumped backward into the couch and looked at Maddie, who was looking at the box with brows furrowed. 

“I'm sorry, Buck. At least they're trying?” 

Buck appreciated that Maddie was always trying to take the scraps of love his parents gave him and make a blanket out of it. Most days it was just a little too small, like it just couldn't cover him, but today he let it warm him. Be better for your kid, Buck. Move on if only for your kid. 

He gave Maddie a small smile and let out a small, “Yeah, you're right.” 

Maddie smiled at him, the way she always had when she knew she couldn't get them to be better parents, but she could get Buck to let it go for a little bit. 

Buck sucked a breath in and sat up again. 

“Well, uh, should we--should we read the note first?” 

Maddie perked up and reached for it. 

“Yes! The box came to your house, so why don't you read it?” 

Buck nodded, taking the note and unfolding it. 

“Buck,” he said, voice steadying out as he read, “we wanted to send you this box of memories from when you were a baby. You probably have noticed that this box is too new to have been bought all of those years ago--you always noticed things like that.”

At this, Buck felt himself tense, clearing his throat before continuing. 

“And you're right, it is new. You already know that we made mistakes, and we can't make up for them. So, this box is not your baby box. But we hope--” 

Buck felt his eyes sting, and he pressed his lips together. 

“We hope that this can be your baby's box. Inside is another box for you to keep the pictures of you safe when you start to fill this one with all of the wonderful things you gather in your baby's life. You were a beautiful baby, and though we know you don't know yet who the father of your baby is, we can't help but hope that they look just like you did. Love, Mom and Dad.” 

Buck paused here, pulling in a shaky breath. He jumped a bit when Maddie's hand rubbed his back soothingly. He had almost forgotten she was there. 

“Hey,” Maddie said quietly, ducking down to catch Buck's eye from where he was still looking at the paper in front of him, the words swimming across the page. “It's okay, Buck.” 

Buck nodded, sniffling hard and reaching a sleeve-clad fist up to rub at his eyes. 

“Ye-yeah. Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks, Maddie.” 

Buck looked at the paper again, seeing another line underneath the sign off. 

“P.S.,” He read out again, voice only cracking a little. “Your baby's cousin is getting older. Please give the jewelry box also enclosed to Maddie so that Jee-Yun can see what her mom used to wear when she was that age.” 

Maddie winced, sighing. “Yeah, thanks, Mom. I think the extra postage would have been worth keeping the moment a moment.” 

Buck chuckled, folding the note back up and putting it back on the table, staring once again at the wooden box. He breathed steadily before looking at Maddie. 

“Can uh, can we open yours first? I don't think I'm ready for mine.” 

Maddie nodded, giving him a squeeze on the arm before reaching for the box. 

“Well, we can do that if you've got a...tiny lock-picking kit? I think the reason I left this at home is because I lost the key to it a long time ago.” 

She turned it left and right in her hands, pulling at the lid and frowning. Buck laughed, holding a hand out. 

“That lock is like, 40 years old at this point. I think a screwdriver will take care of it.” 

Maddie handed it over and Buck stood to take it into the kitchen. He reached into their junk drawer and grabbed a screw driver that wasn't good enough to keep in the garage, Evan, but not bad enough to throw it away, and set at the lock. Secretly, he hopped the lock and the screwdriver would break. 

The lock popped open without much of a fight, and Buck looked at the intact screwdriver before rolling his eyes and putting it back into the drawer. He took the box back to Maddie and held it out to her. 

“Thanks!” 

Maddie opened the box, and with the lid open Buck could see an absolute riot of colors, plastic, and chains. 

“Oh ho ho, wow.” Buck laughed as he sat back down, looking over into the box. “That is quite the collection.” 

“Hey!” Maddie exclaimed, pretending to be offended. “I will have you know that all of this was the absolute height of fashion in the late nineties.” 

Buck leveled a flat look at her and she cracked, laughing brightly. 

“Yeah, you're right. It's kind of a mess.” she reached into the box, pulling a long necklace that looked like it was made of aquarium rocks and fishing line out of the pile and examining it. “But, she's not wrong. I think Jee is going to love this stuff.” 

Buck nodded, knowing it was true based on the outfits that Jee had begun to put together for her days at school. 

Maddie continued pulling things out, eventually grabbing the entire bottom tray and lifting it. 

“If I remember, there's even a-” she paused, coaxing the tray out all of the way. “Yes! There's a little secret compartment.” 

Buck watched in interest as a small ribbon loop appeared on one of the seams of the box. Maddie gripped it before looking up at Buck with a grin. 

“What do we think pre-teen to teen Maddie hid in here? Love notes?” Maddie moved her eyebrows up and down and Buck laughed along. 

“Knowing you it's probably just all of the A+ marks from all of your assignments.” 

“What?!” She exclaimed, Mouth dropping open. “Come on, no way I was that boring.” 

She looked back down on the ribbon and pulled, taking the false bottom out completely and revealing a small compartment that contained a few pieces of paper and a small, dark cylinder. 

Maddie reached for the papers first, chuckling when they turned out to be two movie ticket stubs and an old game of M.A.S.H. on notebook paper. She turned the ticket stubs over in her hand and sighed.

“Andy Jensen.” 

Buck raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate. “Uh, who?” 

“Andy Jensen, my first movie date.” 

Buck laughed, peaking at the tickets. 

“Did he get you the big popcorn or was he cheap?” 

“Oh, he was the perfect gentleman. The big popcorn and a box of raisinettes.” 

Buck wrinkled his nose and scoffed. 

“Raisinettes? Gross.” 

“Hey!” She whacked Buck with the back of her hand that still held the tickets. “It's not like they ever took us to the movies so I didn't know.” 

Buck allowed that one with a nod. He tilted his head at her and raised an eyebrow.

“How did you get them to let you go? You couldn't have been older than twelve.” 

Maddie grinned, leaning in as if to share a secret. 

“They thought I was at a speech and debate tournament.” 

“What?! You lied to them and snuck around? You?”

Maddie laughed, her eyes closing as she did. 

“Yes,” She looked at Buck seriously. “And that's the reason I only have two. I knew that there was no way I could get away with three.” 

Evan laughed, shaking his head. “Now that I do believe.” 

Maddie's laugh tapered out and she looked back down at the box. Her hand reached in for the last remaining thing, the cylinder. 

“Is this--” she held it up to the light, “is this film?” 

She twisted It around in her hands and shook it. 

“It must be. Wow. Talk about a throwback. Are there even places that will still develop this?” 

Buck looked at it thoughtfully. “Yeah, there's some specialty camera shops that will do it, I think.” 

Maddie nodded, setting the canister down to the side and began to reassemble the jewelry box before closing its lid and looking to Buck, hands on her lap. 

“Well,” she began, and Buck groaned, “It's your turn. Do you want me to open it?” 

“No uh,” Buck licked his lips, nodding once to steel himself before reaching out for his box. “No, thanks though. I've got it, I think.” 

Buck opened the box slowly and took in what he saw. Maddie leaned over so their arms were pressed together and she could see as well. 

On top, covering the rest of the contents, was a yellow baby blanket folded neatly. The blanket was soft under his hands as he took it out and smoothed it over one thigh. He ran his fingers over one of it’'s stitched edges, wondering at the way the yellow almost, almost looked exactly like bumble breeze. 

Buck forced himself to go back to the box, reaching in for the next thing he saw: a tiny beanie-style hat with a line of even tinier circus animals marching across the lip. He smiled at it, setting it on top of the blanket. 

Next was a soft cotton bib whose color scheme just screamed early nineties, followed by two board books: Goodnight Moon and Where’s Spot?. Evan looked at both, unable to pull up even a hint of a memory of his parents reading either. But, Maddie reached over to grab both and started to coo over them. 

“Oh, wow. You used to love this one.” She held up Where's Spot?, and Buck could see that one corner of the book was frayed and honestly looked chewed on. Maddie clocked his look and chuckled. “You really loved this one.” 

She set the books on the coffee table for him and made a gesture to encourage him to continue. 

Unsurprisingly, there isn't much more in the box. Buck feels a pang of disappointment that he thinks will always be there, and pushes on anyway. 

He grabs for what he thinks is a stuffed animal first, though he doesn't know what color it's supposed to be and honestly he's not sure if it's a dog, a cat, or a very smooth sheep. 

Maddie makes a noise as it comes out of the box, a cross between an exclamation and a sigh. 

“Bingo.” she breathes, looking at the...rabbit? 

“Excuse me?” Buck asks, confused. 

Maddie shook herself and smiled. 

“That's bingo, your dog. You used to take him everywhere with you. I completely forgot about him.” 

Buck handed the dog --a dog? Really?--over to her, because even if she wasn't reaching for it he knew she wanted to hold it. 

She smiled at him gratefully and ran her fingers over it's head. 

“It was pretty cute, you used to sleep with him tucked in next to you. I thought you had lost him.” 

Buck couldn't help but smile softly at her and try to remember the stuffed animal. 

“He certainly looks like something that belonged to me.” Buck said, trying to bring her back around with a laugh. It worked, and she laughed quietly. 

“Definitely. He's the reason I know how to sew, actually. You had caught his leg on a nail in the fence around mom's garden and cried and cried over it, thinking you had hurt him.” 

Maddie gently turned bingo over and found his back leg which had a slightly wonky line of blue stitches on it. 

“The next day I checked out a book on sewing from the library and snuck some thread and a needle out of mom's sewing kit. I stayed up half the night stabbing myself, but it was worth it when you said that he was “all better again” and thanked me.” 

Maddie looked far away for a second before she closed her eyes, swallowed, and smiled up at him, handing bingo back. 

“It was kind of insufferably adorable. If your kid is anything like it you're going to have a hard time not spoiling them.” 

Buck took the attempt at levity for what it was and laughed with her. He already knew Tommy will fold at any little thing, so he needs to make sure one of them keeps it together. 

Buck sets Bingo down gingerly and can't help but notice Maddie battling to not look at it further. He braced himself for the last item in the larger box; a smaller, more ornately carved box with brass corner pieces. He reached in to pull the smaller box out and held it over his lap, still holding the blanket, hat, and bib. 

Buck was sure he had seen baby pictures of himself at some point, but he couldn't remember any, and this felt like the first time. Buck opened the box and stared down at a stack of pictures, not too many, just enough to fill out the bottom of the box. 

Pulling the pictures out, he leaned into Maddie's space and she held the other side of the pictures lightly. The first was of an impossibly tiny baby with a pink birth mark on either side of one eyebrow, asleep in the hospital. 

“Wow.” Buck breathed out almost involuntarily, grappling with seeing himself so small. 

“I know,” Maddie said, pressing their shoulders together. “You were so tiny.” 

Buck flipped to the next picture--it was Maddie, holding him in a hospital chair, grinning widely. 

Maddie giggled a bit at the picture, surprised to see her own young face. 

“I was so excited because I hadn't known Daniel as a baby, so when you were born I thought I was so grown up getting to hold you and help take care of you.” 

Buck sighed softly, taking in the picture before flipping to the next. 

The rest of the pictures were similar: baby Buck in a crib, baby Buck standing up in a play pen with a gummy smile, baby Buck being held by Maddie in the sunlight. 

When he came back around to the first picture, Buck wasn't sure if he was happy to have the pictures in his hands or even more disappointed than before when he realized it was so few of them. 

Maddie took the pictures out of his hand gently, placing them back into the smaller box and closing its lid, taking it from him with both hands and setting it on the coffee table. 

Her arms wrapped around him and held tight; Buck just let it wash over him for a moment. 

They were quiet, just taking it in and letting Buck's mind spin through a hundred thoughts before trusting himself to speak. 

“Wow, that uh.” Buck swallowed hard, not sure where he was going. “Well. I'm, uh, I'm glad they sent the stuff. Really.” 

“Buck--” 

“No, really, Maddie. I am glad. And I've got this box for the baby, right? And this stuff--this blanket and the books, and Bingo.” 

Buck forced a grin to stretch across his face before running a hand through his hair and lifting the other items off of his lap and back into the baby box. He continued speaking when he saw Maddie's worried look. 

“Really, Maddie. I'm okay. This is a good thing.” He breathed deeply. “And your box too, huh? That's some fun stuff, Jee is really gonna love it.” 

Maddie finally accepted Buck's diversions and nodded. 

“You're right, this is a good thing, Buck.” Maddie sniffed a little and grabbed her box and the film canister that Buck had forgotten about. “And...I've got about 25 minutes to get to Jee's school or I'm going to be trapped in the pick up line forever. I’m sorry to run on you--when is Tommy off shift?” 

Buck gave her a small smile and stood up with her as she checked her watch. 

“Not long,” he told her, “He should be home within the hour and then we've got nursery furniture shopping with the council at 6.” 

Maddie laughed, walking toward the front door. 

“Well, I hope the council makes some good decisions. Or, well, Christopher at least.” 

Buck grinned, following her and holding the door open as she got her shoes and bag, stuffing the pink box and canister into it and fishing out her keys. 

“It's a good thing he has good taste. Honestly, I trust him more than Eddie and Sal.” 

Maddie laughed, turning to Buck once more and putting a hand on his arm. 

“I know this is hard, Buck. But I hope you know how special you've always been. And how nice it was for me to remember what those days were like.” 

Buck softened, nodding. 

“Yeah. Like I said. It's a good thing, right? New beginnings.” 

Maddie smiled again before blinking and nodding determinedly. 

“Okay, I'm off to pick up. Let's do dinner soon, okay? Soon enough you won't have nearly as much free time.” 

“You got, Maddie. Just let me know the time and place.” 

Maddie smiled once more before stepping down the stairs, getting into her car, and driving away. Buck waited until her car disappeared around the corner of the street before he went back inside. 

Back in the living room, Buck sunk back into the couch feeling drained. He had about 40 minutes until Tommy was home, so he put everything Back into the baby box, tossed the note in the recycling, and looked around helplessly before realizing he should probably just leave the box there to be explained and dealt with later. At the very least, Tommy would love to see the pictures. 

Time passed and Buck went back to his little tasks, closing the nursery window, switching the load of laundry from washer to dryer, emptying the bathroom trash. Finally, he heard the front door open and Tommy’s keys hit the console table. 

“Evan?” He heard Tommy call out. “What's this?” 

Buck knew he was talking about the box, and he prepared himself to go over the story again. At least he felt a little more solid this time around. 

“It's from my parents,” Buck called back. “For the baby. I'll be right there.” 

Three weeks passed from the day Buck got the package from his parents, and he had completely forgotten about the little mystery that was inadvertently included, until Maddie, Chimney, and Jee came over for dinner. 

The dinner was smooth and casual, talking about the baby which would be coming very soon, about how excited Jee was for a cousin, making fun of Tommy for the mistake he and Eddie made by building the crib in the living room instead of the nursery and not realizing that their home didn't have the widest of doors. 

Buck felt good, the closer they got to the due date. He felt settled in himself in so many ways that he hadn't before, felt like he was ready for this and all of the change it would bring to his life. Buck knew that he and Tommy had an entire family and support network with them and that their baby would grow up never questioning that they were loved, always warm in ways that Buck and Tommy didn't have. 

As the night wound down, Buck was showing Maddie the finished nursery, the sun setting and casting a dreamy glow on the room, with its yellow walls and cream colored carpet. They found themselves sitting in the matching rocking chairs Buck and Tommy had been so insistent on, talking about sleeping arrangements, diaper disposal, and anything else that came to mind. 

The conversation tapered off and Buck saw Maddie looking at the open closet, where the wooden baby box had sat untouched since Buck placed it there after going through its contents with Tommy. 

“There was something else I wanted to show you,” Maddie said. “But I need you to bring the box downstairs.” 

Buck looked at her curiously, but knew from the look on her face that she wouldn't be explaining further until he had complied. He nodded, and got up to get the box. 

Maddie stood and met him at the door, gesturing for him to lead the way. 

Downstairs, Tommy and Chim were talking quietly as they cleaned the kitchen post-dinner, and Jee had found her way to her favorite napping spot: the window seat in the breakfast nook, and was out like a light. 

Like before, Buck found himself on the couch with Maddie; a box of all the things that made their lives complicated in front of them. 

Maddie paused, and reached around the couch where her purse was set down upon their arrival. 

“I found a specialty shop, and they charged me an arm and a leg, but they got that film that was in my jewelry box developed. I was able to pick it up today, and I wanted to go through the photos with you. I started to look at them earlier, but the first one told me what they were, and I wanted you to be here for the rest.” 

Buck nodded, feeling like something was stuck in his throat, unable to speak louder than a whisper. 

“Okay.” 

Maddie pulled a paper envelope from her purse and slid it open, revealing a thick stack of photos. 

The first was, at first, strange to Buck: a white hospital room, a bed with a yellow rectangle held up in front of it, two hands just visible gripping the top. To the side, a woman in a nurse's uniform looking at the rectangle and smiling softly. 

“Is that--” Buck started, but Maddie put the photo down on the table to show the next one--the photo almost completely yellow, broken up only by a neat line of blue stitches, which, upon further inspection, slipped into three cursive letters before evening back out: an M, a D, and an E. 

Buck understood now why Maddie wanted the box. He tore his eyes from the pictures and opened the baby box, pulling the blanket out of its fold and scanning along the seam until he found the letters; running his finger along them gently. 

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him suddenly, looking down at the delicate stitching. 

“Maddie, Daniel, and Evan.” Buck breathed, touching each letter as he said the names. He held it out to Maddie for her to examine, and she did with shining eyes. 

“The woman in the picture was his nurse, Sarah. She was so sweet--and she must have made this for him to give to you.” 

Buck just breathed for a moment, unsure of what to do other than marvel at the blanket and photos. 

“And,” Maddie began again, “there's more.” 

Maddie began laying photos out, almost all of Daniel. But--they were about Buck. 

Daniel holding the little hat with circus animals up with a grin. 

Daniel, hand wrapped around an IV pole, standing on a chair to glance into a room which had a line of babies in bassinets in it. 

Daniel, holding a drawing up in front of his chest that said “Welcome, Baby Evan!” in wonky kid font. 

Daniel and Maddie with Bingo, looking new--and much more like a dog--in between them with a bow on its head. 

Daniel, holding Buck, a look of wonder on his face. 

Buck didn't know when he started crying, but he quickly wiped away a tear that fell on a photo of a drawing of a family with a little baby, with the initials “DB” written proudly in the corner. 

Buck couldn't bring himself to look at Maddie; but couldn't continue looking at the photos without breaking into an all out sob.

“Buck,” Maddie said gently, reaching out to him with a tissue she must have produced in the magic way that Mom's can, and one more photo. “This one, out of all of them, is really for you.” 

Buck took both, blocking out the world for just a moment by covering both eyes with the tissue and just trying to breathe. When he felt like he wasn't completely shaking apart anymore, he looked down at the photo that Maddie handed him. This one was different--there was no Daniel, no hospital, nothing but a note written in clear penmanship taking up the entire photo. 

Buck took a rattling inhale and read the note out loud. 

“Dear Evan, 

 My name is Sarah, and I was your brother Daniel’s nurse. Today, your brother learned that he won't be around to watch you grow up. He wanted me to write this note to you and make sure you get it some day. I'm taking a photo of it and giving the film to your sister. Daniel writes: 

Hi Evan, my name is Daniel, and I was your brother. Nurse Sarah is helping me write to you because I am going to die soon, and I won't be there to be your big brother. I'm really sorry I have to leave, Evan, I think I really would have liked to be your brother. I don't think you'll remember me, so Nurse Sarah made you a blanket that says M, D, and E on it, so you always know that we were together. Also, she gave me a little hat that you can wear with some of my favorite animals on it, and she even bought a little dog at the hospital gift shop here and she's letting Maddie and I say it was a gift from us. 

Maddie told me that you were born to try and help me get better, but I don't think that's very fair, because you're just a little baby and if the doctors can't help me, how could you? I'm really sick but that isn't your fault. If Maddie was telling the truth, I'm okay with being sick, because it means you got to be born.  

I love you, Evan. You are the best little brother ever. Maddie is a good big sister, even if she is a little annoying sometimes, but she is gonna help you. I hope you get to grow up and have lots of fun, and have a good life. I hope you never get sick like me. 

Nurse Sarah says that some day, after you have had a really good life, we will get to be together again and you will remember me then. I think that will be really nice, and I hope that I can be a good brother when that happens. 

Love, Daniel” 

Buck's voice tapered off, and he felt tears rolling hot down his cheeks, unending. He felt like he was shaking, like he was far away and too close all at once, like he was taken apart and told to start again.

He startled when he felt Maddie crash into his side, sobbing herself, hiccuping in breaths. Buck turned fully to envelop her, pressing his check against the top of her head and just trying to stay in one piece. 

He doesn't know how long they stayed like that, but they finally broke apart when Chimney gathered the photos up to keep them safe in the envelope and Tommy was sliding into the couch behind Buck to support his body. Buck looked down, furiously scrubbing at his eyes with his shirt sleeve and gasping quietly. Tommy lifted his arm behind Buck and Buck fell into it gratefully; hoping that Tommy could take the burden of keeping him grounded just for a little bit. 

Chimney finished putting the pictures away and kneeled before Maddie, talking quietly to her as she dabbed at her eyes with another tissue. They both nodded, and then looked over at Buck and Tommy. 

“Well,” Chimney started, falling back to his talent for keeping things light, “who needs dessert when you have life-shifting catharsis to fill you up? It's late, and I think right now everyone needs to process for a little while. We're gonna get Jee and head home.” 

Buck felt Tommy nod, but couldn't bring himself to look over or speak. 

“Okay, Howie. Thanks for coming, guys.” 

Chimney said something else, but Buck missed it completely and only really registered Maddie kissing him on his head before they made their way out into the warm August night. 

Buck came back to himself in stops and starts, feeling dried out and exhausted. He moved finally and looked at Tommy, who looked calmly back at him and brushed the curls from Buck's forehead. 

“Hi, Evan.” he said quietly, eyes roving over Buck’s face. “Do you want to go lay down, now?” 

Buck nodded, scrubbing at his fast with tired hands before standing when Tommy did. 

“I'm just gonna get you some water, you can head up if you like.” 

Tommy stepped away and headed to the kitchen, but Buck was frozen, eyes drawn to the yellow blanket still out on the couch, where it ended up scrunched between him and Maddie. 

Tommy came back with a glass of water in his hand and stopped, his other hand coming to rest on Buck's lower back. 

“Evan?” 

Buck's mouth opened but it took a moment for words to form.

“I...I had a brother. His name was Daniel. He died, but he loved me.” 

Buck felt like something was unfurling within him, like a padlocked door was being opened at long last. 

“He was so little, and he was so sick, and he knew he was going to die. But he loved me anyway.” 

Tommy stayed quiet, letting Buck speak at his own pace. 

“If it wasn't for Daniel, I wouldn't have been born. And what happened after was neither of our faults. And he tried so hard to make sure I knew that he loved me. In some ways, he succeeded. This blanket, the little dog, the hat. But in so many ways I might have never known.” 

Buck takes one last heaving breath, feeling like he was breaking the surface of the ocean after holding his breath beneath the waves for too long. 

“Growing up I felt like I could never figure it out, I could never be what I was supposed to be. But I think...I was just supposed to live. To live when he couldn't, and to know I was loved, even when I couldn't see it.” 

Buck looked at Tommy, face determined. 

“I don't want his love to go on being locked away, unknown...undeveloped for decades.” 

Tommy bent down to sit the glass of water softly on the coffee table, then gathered Buck into his arms. 

“I think,” he said slowly, speaking right by Buck’s ears, “that when that little girl is born next month, Danielle is going to be the perfect name.” 

Buck sees it, through that opening door inside him. Sees a little girl wrapped in a yellow blanket, wrapped in love deferred, love anew, love unending.

He breathes, he settles, and he feels whole. 

[arcaneswitch]

There's a very real possibility that Powjinx has cried over VI taking massive bites of her food before. Which is valid as this is the biggest betrayal of trust she will ever face in her lifetime

"Pow let me get some of—"

"FUCKINGLEAVE ME ALONE"

[imagionationstation]

If you’re seeing this post then I made up my mind to break away from social media before I could teeter anymore.

I abandoned you three days ago and there’s a very good chance none of you noticed. Of course, I wouldn’t know if you did because I’m not here and won’t be back for a good month or more. Oops?

Feel free to get offended by my absence.

But in all fairness, I did warn all of you.

[nat-20s]

THE GIRLS (FOURTEEN AND DONNA) ARE FIGHTIIIINNNGGG'

aka Donna has some lingering Feelings on the whole mind wipe thing and she's gonna shout about it <3

The Mess That's Made of Us

She didn’t mean for an outburst. They were having a calm, rational, adult discussion, not a fight. She didn’t even want a fight, not really. But The Doctor, he couldn’t just let it go and let her sort out her big stupid feelings on her own. No, he had to needle, he had to inquire, he had to push. He had to say that “everything had turned out all right, in the end”, and oh, that so wasn’t the fucking point. Nearly choking on the words, she yells out, “What would you have done?!”

After he startles and she has a moment to be thankful no one else is home right now, he’s shockingly even when he replies, “You..you know what I did.”

She lets out a right and proper growl of frustration. Clenching and unclenching her fists a few times in an attempt to ground herself, she grits out, “Not what I meant.”

“Donna, I don’t-”

“I meant, you pedantic little-”

She cuts herself off, takes in a deep breath in and out through her nose, and tries again. “I meant if our roles had been swapped. If I had been the one to take that year away from you, if you were about to have an essential part of the person you had become stripped all away in a moment. How would you have reacted? What. Would you. Have done?”

“I..”

She doesn’t let him finish, collect his thoughts, say pretty words that would fix it all. See, she can push, and push, and push too, now can’t she, Doctor? Generally, Donna doesn’t consider herself a cruel person. Sometimes oblivious, sometimes obnoxious, sometimes inconsiderate, but not cruel. But she knows she’s capable of it. She knows, if she so desires, she can hurt someone. She’s not trying to hurt The Doctor, except that she is, not to wound but to pull him to where she is right now. To make the grief and the rage and the conflict be shared. So she keeps going. “It’s not the same though, right? No, of course not. One year out of a billion, maybe more, that doesn’t make much of a difference, does it? Like forgetting what you had for breakfast that morning, barely a breath. I bet it would’ve been so easy, for you.”

“Donna!”

When he says it, his face is hard, and frustrated, but not cold. That’s something she’s still getting used to, with this new-old face. He used to have the coldest rage she ever saw, standing like a stranger. Now, he doesn’t tend to rage at all. It’s enough to make her clamp her mouth and actually listen for a second.

“Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about? Barely a breath, easy for me? Do you really believe that our time together meant that little to me? Do you really not understand by now? I mean, look at my face, Donna. And this is the second time that I’m completely rearranged myself in memory of you! One day with you changedme. One full year with you? Rewrote me.

So yes, removing my time with you would’ve made a difference. It would’ve made all the difference in the universe. And I don’t know what I would’ve done. If I had to get rid of the part of me that was made from you. I’m not sure I could.”

Such pretty words. And, well, the face in front of her right now does suggest some truth to them. But she can’t quite believe them, and she can’t quite look at said face, so instead her vision drifts over to the Tardis parked outside their kitchen window. Folding her arms and staring listlessly, she counters, “Yeah? Don’t you think you would’ve, I dunno, blinked and gone ‘oh that’s odd’ before putting on one of those manic smiles and inputting the coordinates to Venus in the 15th century, and that would’ve been that?”

Out of the corner of her eye, The Doctor’s face goes through a rapid series of motions that she can almost sort out, before stopping at realization. Oh. She didn’t like that one bit.

“Ah, that’s what you think did happen, huh? You think I flew away in my box and had magical adventures and found someone else in a day. It would make sense, right? Start pallin’ around with the nearest redhead I could find, forget all about me ol’ mate Donna, it’s not like she was gonna remember, so why should I?”

She sniffs, and tilts her face up, and resolutely does not let any tears fall. She also does not look at him.

“Donna, there was no one else, not until I was someone else. You want to know what happened, after I lost you? I broke. And then died. There was no me without you.”

Fuck. He changes his tune then, and she’s pretty sure they’re no longer fighting. They’ve always lacked a talent for it. He comes closer, placing both his hands gently on top of her still crossed arms, and moves until she has to look him in the eye. He even throws in a smile. Damn him to hell, he knows it’s near impossible for her to see her best friend smiling and start smiling a bit herself.

With a breath that borders on being a laugh, he continues, “But you! You got married, and yelled at parking attendants, and had a kid, and you existed. And I can’t regret that, I can’t. So I’m sorry, I really am. I ignored your pleas, and I took some of you away, and I’d do it again. I’d do it every time.”

She lets out a sigh and lets her arms drop to the sides. “I know.”

Wiping a hand down her face, she mixes a huff and a shrug. “Honestly, Doctor? I think I’ve already forgiven you.”

With a nod, she stands up straight and tells him straight, “I think I forgave you the moment it happened. I just..I just need time. I know it’s been years but I’ve only been able to think on it for a week.”

“I understand. Hell, there’s things that take me a couple thousand years to process, so.”

Donna rolls her eyes and let’s out a small chuckle, before opening her arms and saying, “C’mere, spaceman.”

The Doctor quite readily does, and the hug fits just as naturally as it always has. They take a moment to breathe together, and Donna gets to listen to the comforting double rhythm of the two healthy hearts in his chest. The silence is comfortable and the sharpness has eased.

When she pulls back, she can’t help but ask, “Wait, second face? What was the other one?”

“Ah. About that-”

[wolvesofinnistrad]

Buck is so fucking tired. Its been months, months trapped in this godforsaken day.

Hes tried everything to get out, he tried making up with his exes (except Tommy), hes tried talking to everyone he knows (except Tommy), hes even tried many implausible and at times downright stupid things (only half of those were based on ideas from Chimney and Eddie.)

Today was a break day. Hed needed a few to recover after his last attempt. At least the airtime had been nice for a few seconds before the pain cut straight to the next day. No strategizing either, not that he was getting much of anywhere since he had to remind whoever he was with that day, (usually Eddie, sometimes Hen or Chim, occassionally Maddie, rarely anyone else after the first few times) of every scheme hed already tried.

No today he was doing the only mildly interesting part of this living prison, exploring the city. He'd found a new farmer's market, went to the beach, and now he was stopping to get coffee.

As he exited the building he ran directly into someone, spilling his coffee all over himself. The burn honestly didnt much phase him anymore. Not after day 87 anyway. Still.

"Dang, watch it man," he said, none of the usual fawning apologies he'd have given before the loop.

"No it was my... fault," came a voice he knew so well yet hadnt heard in almsot a year now.

Well, for him almsot a year, for Tommy Kinnard standing in front of him it was only like 2 months.

"Oh this is fucking great," he said to himself before pulling out his phone. "Hildy make a not not to come here next loop I'm not doing this again," he said as he turned and started to walk away.

Then a hand grabbed his wrist and tugged, he tried to wrench his arm away but Tommy was just as strong as he was.

"Evan, what did you just say?"

Buck shook himself loose after another jolt of his arm before looking at Tommy. It still hurt, fuck it did, but he had worse things to deal with. "Don't worry about it Tommy. You don't ever have to worry about me again, you made that clear." Again hes about to turn away when Tommy calls out to him.

"Are you in a time loop?"

That was a new record. Chim had been the fastest to ever get it at 2 hours. Slowly he turned around, despite his better judgment.

"Considering you won't rmemeber this tomorrow, and we wont see each other, yes Tommy Ive been stuck in a time loop for months now. Its getting pretty fucking old actually." Despite the fact he was definitely being a bit bitchy, Tommys face was doing some confusing journey between surprise, relief and then happiness. By the time he stopped talking the man seemed to be vibrating before he pounced, hugging Buck so hard he thought he might crack a rib.

As much as Buck might have missed this, he was pretty fucking confused. "To-mmy..."

Tommy let go, pulling back and laughing a bit hysterically. "Evan," oh, his name sounded so good on Tommys tongue how had he forgotten "i thought i was going crazy."

"What?"

Tommy shook his head. "I mean, i didnt believe it at first. Obviously you know my skepticism, even after the Billy Boils thing." Tommy gave him a softer smile then. "But after a while, and a few different trips to the hospital it became clear there wasnt anything physically wrong with me, which meant either i was crazy, or, well, I was stuck in a time loop."

Buck stood there staring at the man he'd once been on the cusp of loving, of spending forever with, and realized they were both stuck, potentially forever, in a single day.

"I cant believe this... have you met anyone else thats on the loop?"

Tommy shook his head again, glancing around before motioning for them to take a seat outside the cafe. He grabbed some napkins, giving them to Buck to wipe at his stained shirt.

"No. Ive talked to a few people, Lucy, Sal, even Howie a few different times but never even considered someone else might be stuck too."

Buck dabbed at his shirt with little actual concern. He was more focused on this trippy development. "And youve tried to get out?"

"Oh boy, yes, tried doing everything right, doing nothing, tried talking to my dad even, that was a big mistake." His head tilted to the side in that way Buck remembered fondly, when Tommy was trying to dodge the severity of something he didnt want to admit hurt. "Heck I even called Abby thinking maybe i needed to apologize or something but... nothing." He held out his empty hands and shrugged.

Buck couldnt help what came out next. "Didnt call to apologize to me. And Id know, considering im also in the loop."

Tommy didnt say anything for a long moment until. "I thought about it. So many times. Talked myself out of it. Didnt think it was right to only contact you to try to free myself."

"Self sacrificing idiot," Buck said, tossing a balled up napkin at his chest.

"Guilty as charged."

That admission actually made Buck smile for the first time. "Dang, only took you a full blown time loop to admit it huh?"

Tommy laughed. "Groundhog day hell has humbled me I guessm"

Buck quirked an eyebrow. "What does any of this have to do with a holiday about a rodent predicting the weather?"

Tommy looked surprised, the expression soon melting into a sort of shocked amusement. "Ill explain it to you later. Looks like we've got the time. A lot of it actually."

"Yeah, I guess we do." Buck looked at him, and it still hurt, but there was camaraderie there, stuck in the same situation with only one person that understood. For the first time since the breakup he felt like things were starting to make sense again. And maybe, just maybe, if they could find a way to move past this day... well maybe they could find a way to move past their own problems too.

[inkvigilante]

The Heart-Switch Bet (Coming Soon on A03!)

Dazai and Ranpo don't butt heads often but when they do it's a nightmare for the whole office. Today Ranpo was grumpy and started a nasty fight. Now they have settled on a bet to determine the winner.

"You get to hang with Ed and I will go with Mr. Fancy Hat. We tolerate the others rival for the day."

"And if we can't tolerate them?" Dazai asks just to amuse him.

"Whoever holds out the longest wins."

Dazai looks to be considering it but Ranpo already knows the answer.

"You're on."

[romansleftshoulderpad]

Holding

Fuyuhiko doesn’t deserve this kind of tenderness. It’s too soft, too unspoken. It goes against every promise he made to be content with his life. 

God, it hurts. 

How could he ever think of going back to contentment with his past when Kazuichi’s warm skin only makes him crave the future?

Kazuichi has always run warm, but his face is slightly red. Anyone who hadn’t seen his damp hair, indicative of his recent shower, would think him feverish. 

It wasn’t right for a yakuza boss to be held. Like a child. But showers made Kazuichi sleepy and sleepy made him cuddly and, well, Fuyuhiko just kind of liked having his head against Kazuichi’s chest. 

Rough hands rest on either one of Fuyuhiko’s arms. It’s warm. It’s soft. It’s so much nicer than what he deserves and damnit he craves so much more. He wants to be brave and speak up. “Can I kiss you?” has been bouncing around in his mind for at least an hour but he doesn’t have the courage to ask it. 

Besides, asking might mean doing. And doing would mean changing positions and he’s really content—no, comfortable. No, happy—with how he’s laying right now. 

“I’m glad you let me do this,” Kazuichi murmurs. He nuzzles his cheek against Fuyuhiko’s hair. 

“Yeah, I know. You need to get it out of your damn system,” Fuyuhiko says with a scoff. He’s always known Kazuichi to be touchy. His feelings about it have changed (annoyance, toleration, jealousy, relief) but Kazuichi never has. Fuyuhiko doesn’t pray, and if he did it would be a waste of a prayer to ask that Kazuichi never change. But the thought has slipped into his mind once or twice. Or every morning when the cuddles inevitably end and they have to go back to work. 

Kazuichi holds him a little bit tighter. He kisses the top of his head. “I’m really glad you let me do this.”

“Yeah, well…,” Fuyuhiko starts. It’s too soft. Too warm. Too tender for him. But Kazuichi? “It’s what you deserve”

[paul-the-delivery-guy]

Hamster & Gretel Headcanons

Given that the show may or may not ever come back, I've been preparing a long list of some personal headcanons.

Gretel

Dave and Carolina eventually find out about their daughter's double life. I haven't really thought about how. I just want it to happen.

Gretel's secret identity is completely blown in high school. She had left school to go and stop a crisis down town. Gretel returned to campus discreetly and changed back into regular Gretel in a spot that she believed to be out of sight. Unfortunately, someone had been recording her. The video goes viral on social media over night. Gretel has no idea until she goes to her first period class the next day, and is greeted with thunderous applause from her classmates. Even her weird science teacher, whom Hamster swears is a vampire, bows down at Gretel's feet, to her abject mortification.

The revelation of her identity puts the Grant-Gomez family in significant danger, but not to worry. Gretel’s friends with a certain pair of brothers just one town over who can install the greatest security imaginable around their house. All it takes is one musical montage.

Gretel’s first boyfriend is Nordle. It wasn’t a serious relationship. It was an awkward, short-lived, middleschool romance. Both of them realize pretty quickly that they're better off just being friends. Somehow, despite Superhero Gretel's relationship status not being public knowledge, Professor Exclamation, who is serving a life sentence in prison, finds out about this relationship. All of his fellow inmates split their sides with laughter as Exclamation runs around his cell, flailing his short, stubby arms in the air, and howling with rage.

The first time Gretel gets into an actual relationship, Hamster didn't like the boy at all. Something just didn't sit right with him. Hamster tried warning Gretel about him, but considering Hamster's relationship advice was generally terrible, and because Gretel was a teenager, his words fell on deaf ears. It was his and Gretel’s first real fight with eachother and the latter refused to speak to him for 2 days.

Well, as it turned out, he was a teenage villain-in-training, with the goal of getting close to and destroying Gretel. Gretel was left with a shattered heart. When Lauren found out, The Destructress made a brief return to evil. Lauren and Hamster both paid the boy a little visit in jail. Okay, they didn't exactly "harm" him. He was technically a kid. They simply terrorized him in the next worst way, by making him listen to a 10 hour long Taylor Swift playlist on Lauren's phone. Each of the songs were about Swift's bad experiences with boys. The cops didn't do much to stop them. They all had a soft spot for Gretel, so this kid wasn't exactly in their good books.

The first time Gretel killed somebody, it tore at her conscience. She truly had no choice. The man somehow had an IND. He could have blown up the whole city. It had been one of those moments in which you've got to make a split second decision. Nobody faulted Gretel. Hamster, the police on the scene, her family, they all tried to reassure the girl that she'd made the right decision. The only person who faulted Gretel was herself.

Gretel has never told this to anybody, but the fiasco with Belle really affected her for a while. Just imagine being a kid and having someone publicly trashing and making up lies about you on live TV to the point that you were nearly arrested.

There are many nights that see Gretel wake up in cold sweat after dreaming about a past villain coming back to attack her and her family. It has never slipped her mind how many enemies she and Hamster have made.

Gretel ends up with the son of one of the random cops you see throughout the show. I may or may not have taken inspiration from The Amazing Spider-Man. I guess I had always wanted the dynamic of Spider-Man, Gwin and George Stacy to work out and saw this as an opportunity.

Gretel had two children, a pair of twins. They're names are Mason and Maya. These two are the next generation of superheroes. Mason is really flamboyant, charismatic and a class clown. He (not disrespectfully) flirts with female news reporters on air and turns battles into stand-up routines. Maya is rather shy and introverted, but highly intelligent. She's the brains of the duo. Maya will occasionally get exasperated by her brother's goofball antics. The twins have polar opposite personalities, but they're joined at the hip. Maya is the spitting image of Gretel but with dark hair. Mason carries Gretel's blonde hair but looks like whoever his father is.

I've actually had these two OCs in my head for a long time. If I ever get around to writing any fanfics, I'd definitely do something with them because this is only part of the dynamic I've built up and the two are so much fun to think about.

Hiromi

Kevin and Hiromi become a true couple and fall in love. The first thing Kevin does is to take her out on a real date. Their date goes great, and, for the most part, uninterrupted by supervillains. Sure, La Cebolla turns up at the restaurant and starts an onion riot in the kitchen, but eh, they still had a good time.

Some time after the events of season 2, the real Mrs. Knight comes in to start teaching Hiromi's journalism class. Mrs. Knight starts trying to take Hiromi under her wing, but Hiromi does not trust this lady one bit. But it turns out that the real Mrs. Knight has no ulterior motives, is a genuinely nice lady, and is just interested in being a mentor to aspiring journalists.

Sometimes when they're alone, Kevin and Hiromi will call eachother Super Guy and Miss Direct. One of the things Hiromi loves most about Kevin is his relationship with Gretel, how he's always there for her, that he's put himself in mortal danger for Gretel, time and time again. That right there is a man who she knows will look after his family. That's the kind of man she wants to be with.

Despite their rocky start, Hiromi and Gretel become really close, sister-like even. Kevin will occasionally joke that Hiromi likes Gretel more than him. In her late teens, Gretel sometimes stays the weekend at Kevin’s and Hiromi's place. Gretel doesn't knock, or even announce her visit. She just walks right in and makes herself cozy. The two will already have dinner for three prepared.

Hiromi becomes an investigative journalist and a reporter for Action News. She ends up striking a friendship with Veronica Hill (though, unlike Veronica, Hiromi doesn't have a habit of airing her personal issues on the news). As a reporter, Hiromi frequently covers the heroics of Hamster & Gretel. Sometimes it puzzled people as to why Superhero Gretel always struggled to not laugh whenever Hiromi interviewed her. For her part though, Hiromi Grant-Gomez never let on that she knows who's behind the mask.

After Gretel's secret identity is blown, Hiromi, with Hamster and Gretel's blessing, authors the first canonical comic book series of Hamster & Gretel's adventures, detailing the events of the show. The comic series becomes an instant bestseller. I suppose Hiromi would alter or omit the identities of FistPuncher and The Destructress. What Hiromi does not omit however, is the fiasco of Miss Direct, a rather embarrassing chapter that she's brave enough to release. Also, Kevin becomes a fan-favorite character and is finally recognized as a hero.

Lauren and Lyle

Lauren is more or less an older sister to Gretel and Bailey. Even long after the girls are too old for a babysitter, she enjoys spending time with them. She doesn't do hero work very frequently, but she's always willing to lend a hand to the team when they need her. Also, the first time Gretel gets a boyfriend, Lauren puts the fear of God in him. "You hurt her and I'll hurt you! And trust me. I have a track record!"

It wasn't really clear if Lyle was actually a "good guy" by the end of season 2, but I feel like he would go straight back to villainy as soon as the finale ended. Maybe he turns good eventually, or maybe he continues down a path of villainy. It would be an interesting idea to follow.

Lauren becomes an occasional semi-part time superhero. She kind of just wants to be a regular teenager. She mostly jumps in when things get really bad. She refuses to battle Lyle.

At first, nobody trusts that The Destructress is reformed. Gretel vouching for her carries a lot of weight, but Lauren's got to earn that trust. There's also the problem that she and her brother are extremely high on the FBI's wanted list.

Lauren does prove herself reformed to many people, but there will always be those who don't trust her. That will never change, and that's okay.

Nordle

After a strange system update, Tobor develops free will and is able to experience real human emotions. Now freed to make his own choices, Tobor is ready to pursue his true calling... as a stand up comedian. His first attempts at making jokes are not very funny. In fact, they sound like an AI wrote them (which I suppose would be an accurate statement), but the sheer absurdity makes everyone burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Professor Exclamation had never felt quite as degraded as the time he found Tobor on the comedy channel, making fun of him.

Gaining free will and genuine emotions enables Tobor to become a proper parent-figure to Nordle. Sure, Tobor had taken care of Nordle, provided for him, and even felt affection for the boy, but he had also been his servant. Now, Tobor can properly raise Nordle, steer him in the right direction when needed, being their to listen whenever Nordle needs to vent his emotions, and give him real advice and not just statistical analysis.

The first time Nordle called Tobor "Dad," it had been an accident, a slip of the tongue, but it had revealed the way Nordle really saw Tobor. The robot would have cried if he had tear ducts. The day Tobor legally adopted Nordle as his own son was the happiest moment of each of their lives.

Nordle and Bailey end up together. I haven't exactly spared this much of a thought, but I guess I could see it. They've both got that fiery personality and both are really smart.

Hamster

Carolina would never forget the day that she sat down to watch one of her telenovelas, reached a sad scene, and to her surprise, turned to see Hamster sitting beside her, sobbing into a tissue bigger than his body. "No Consuela, no! *sniff* Oh this part gets me every time!" Watching Spanish rom-coms became something the two of them did together all the time.

Hamster never told Gretel this, but he often frequented bars and clubs at night. He's got a rather high alcohol tolerance for someone who's smaller than the glass.

Hamster fell in love once. She was the most gorgeous hamster he'd ever laid eyes on. She couldn't speak, fly, or punch though walls, but Hamster loved her with the entirety of his overdramatic heart.

None of Hamster's children inherited his powers. Not his strength. Not his voice..... and not his longevity.

Nothing had ever torn him apart as badly as outliving each and every one of his kids. Hamster was deeply depressed for a long time, and for a few days after his last one went, he didn't speak at all. During this season, Gretel, Kevin, Fred, Dave and Carolina were always there for him, and for several weeks, wouldn't leave him alone for a second. Their love got Hamster through this darkness (also, the grief counselor who specialized in rodents helped).

Hamster lived long enough to see Gretel's children become superheroes. He was referred to as Uncle Hamster, but sometimes, when he was being a "cranky ol' geezer," as Gretel put it, the kids called him their Grumpy Uncle earning him the title "Grunkle Ham."

The day Hamster died was the hardest day of Gretel's life. Hamster's funeral received global coverage. People from all over the world came to say goodbye, everyone from family and friends to world leaders. Even a few villains showed up to pay their respects. Gretel tried to get through the eulogy without breaking down, but it was impossible. He touched and rescued millions of lives. The world would never forget Hamster Grant-Gomez.

Alternative Headconons

These are some headcanons that I previously had but have dropped for one reason or another.

Hiromi becomes the owner of the comic book shop and gives Gretel her first job. The staff there is all one big work-family. Hiromi is the cool boss that everyone wants to work for. All of Gretel's colleagues are Hamster & Gretel superfans. There are debates over which of the duo is the better. Gretel argues vehemently for Hamster. None of them, save for Hiromi, know that they're working with Superhero Gretel every day. When Gretel's secret identity is blown, the shop becomes a huge hit. Where else to buy superhero merchandise than from a shop where a real superhero works?

Just like Gretel, Mason and Maya use their real first names as their superhero names. Despite this, and despite the fact that it's known to the public that they are Superhero Gretel's children, people STILL don't connect these three with their civillian counterparts. I came up with this before I had the idea that her identity would be blown.

[half-bakedboy]

For bucktommy! “For some reason, I’m attracted to you.”

read on ao3

Buck knows objectively that dating a guy is much different than dating a girl. He’s done enough research—if a lot of articles like Dating Advice for Gay, Bi, and Pansexual Men count—about how dating someone new is supposed to be exciting and nerve-wracking, and dating men isn’t going to feel any different than dating a woman.

If that’s all true, then why has he never felt so awkward in his life?

He’s sitting across from Tommy at this quaint Italian restaurant that Maddie once mentioned wanting Chimney to take her to and all he feels is unsettled. The table is too small between them and Buck worries that if either of them moves, their knees will knock over everything on top of it. Buck ordered white wine because it seemed like the classy choice but he hates wine, and Tommy ordered a red wine that makes him wince every time he swallows.

The butter is as hard as a rock and Buck refuses to eat bread without it ever since his first date with Abby. Somehow, this date almost rivals Abby performing a tableside tracheotomy because Buck choked on the dry bread he’d shoved in his mouth to tame that awkwardness.

He catches himself glancing down consideringly at the basket of bread rolls before him but looks away abruptly when Tommy breaks the silence.

“So, this is a nice place,” Tommy decides. Buck nods and grabs both sides of the small table with a white-knuckled grip. “How’d you find it?”

“Maddie! My sister,” he says, unsure how much their mutual friends have told him. “Chim’s girlfriend. Fiance actually, but uh, my sister. She suggested it to me.”

“As a place to grab drinks?” Tommy asked with a raised eyebrow.

Buck shook his head. “As a place for a date,” Buck says proudly, tipping his chin up a little, challenging anyone to say a damn word about it. A small smile tugs at the corner of Tommy’s lips at the words.

“You told your sister you had a date? Did you tell her…” The rest of the question is obvious, but Tommy pulls back like he’s unsure whether he should ask.

“That this is my first date with a dude?” Buck finishes for him. Tommy chuckles and takes a sip of his classic red wine. He presses his lips together as he swallows and nods. “Not necessarily, but Tommy isn’t exactly a gender-neutral name.”

“Hey, it’s a big step. I’m proud of you either way,” Tommy says softly.

He reaches for Buck’s hand across the table like he’s testing the waters. It should be a cute moment, but Buck panics—an obnoxious casualty of his sexuality crisis—and turns his palm up to welcome the first public sign of affection between them, knocking over both of their glasses of water, drenching the aforementioned bread rolls.

Buck immediately thinks it’d be hard to choke himself with them now.

“God, I am so sorry.” Buck panics, stands up too abruptly, and the knees he was so previously concerned about hit the edge of the table painfully, sending Tommy’s almost empty plate onto his lap along with the remnants of water on the table.

Buck feels his face heat up like a furnace and he closes his eyes in hopes that this is all some fever dream born out of his fears of his newfound sexuality. But Tommy is chuckling and a waitress is apologizing like this is somehow her fault and Buck has to accept that he really is just bad at this.

He has his hands white-knuckled on the back of his chair and he’s considering just running away when a gentle hand rests over his. When he looks up, Tommy is still grinning—Buck doesn’t understand how he just keeps smiling through it all—like he isn’t covered in all of Buck’s mistakes.

“Evan,” Tommy mutters. There’s humor in the voice and Buck feels like he might actually die if Tommy makes fun of him. “Do you wanna get out of here?” Tommy asks. Buck’s eyebrows pull together and he sees the moment Tommy reads his mind. “C’mon, Kid.”

Tommy somehow unglues Buck’s hand from the chair to maneuver them toward the door. Buck apologizes to every waitstaff he sees, but it doesn’t matter. They’re all looking at him with so much pity that Buck feels like one of the patients on his calls. It’s a feeling he really hates, especially when Tommy must notice the stares, too.

Once they’re outside, Buck blurts, “Please don’t tell Eddie how bad this is going.”

Tommy snorts out his laughter like he’s been holding it in for hours. Buck should be mortified, but Tommy’s hand is still gripped in his and it’s firm and warm and much larger than his own.

“Oh, I’m gonna,” Tommy promises. Buck attempts to pull his hand away but Tommy only squeezes tighter. “Evan, c’mere.”

This time, Tommy pulls him into a warm hug while they stand in the cool night air. Buck breathes him in, eyes closing as he relaxes into the touch. He’s rarely smaller than those he hugs, and he’s never been smaller than someone he’s hugged like this. It’s almost like Tommy is ensuring Buck knows he’s still interested. Even after the awkwardness and tragedy, Tommy knows Buck has more to offer and is willing to find out.

It means so much to Buck that when Tommy pulls away, he has to stop himself from gripping even tighter at Tommy’s broad shoulders. He doesn’t move far, though, and keeps one hand on Buck’s waist, playing with the fabric there like he’s somehow more nervous than Buck. When he starts walking, Buck follows, finding no reason not to trust wherever Tommy is taking them.

“Are you… okay with all of this?” Tommy asks. Buck blanches because he never once considered his inability to remain calm around this man to come off as some sort of internalized homophobia.

“Y-Yes! I’m—Are you okay with this? With me?” Tommy tilts his head inquisitively, cocking an eyebrow up like he doesn’t know exactly. “C’mon, don’t pretend that this wasn’t the worst date you’ve ever been on.”

“I’ve been on a lot of bad dates, Evan,” Tommy says.

Though, it’s not as reassuring as Buck thinks he meant it to be.

Tommy sighs. “I think that we both wanted this to be perfect. For some reason, I’m attracted to you,” he teases, “and I wanted to woo you on your first ‘date with a dude’,” he mocks, earning a smack from Buck. “I remember how terrifying my first public date with a man was, so I can imagine how you were feeling leading up to this.”

“It was scary for you, too?” Buck asks shyly. He’s more reassured by that fact than anything else. In his attempts to not be weird about the date, he tried to hide his fears—this is something so new and important to him but it might not be a singular experience.

“Oh my God, yes!” Tommy laughs. “It was with a dancer. A small guy who looked like he walked straight out of the magazines I used to keep under my bed when I was a teenager.”

“I forgot you grew up in the 80s,” Buck teases. Tommy pinches his waist in retaliation and Buck squirms just a little closer to him.

“Since he was a dancer, I tried to find us a club. You know, dancing at a club was a stereotypically gay thing I could do to prove to this guy I was, in fact, gay. Like the asking-on-a-date part wasn’t explanatory enough.”

“Dancing’s a good first date!” Buck argues, not yet seeing the downside to this conversation.

“Oh, it can be! Except I was terrified to fuck it up, so trusted some stranger on the internet to recommend a spot.”

“Oh no,” Buck mutters.

“Oh, yes,” Tommy agrees. He winces like the memory has been repressed for a little too long. “It was a swingers, leather club. Needed a password to get in.”

“The stranger didn’t give you the password, did he?” Buck guesses.

“Worse. My date knew it and ditched me almost the second we got inside.”

“Oh no,” Buck repeats, though he’s holding back laughter. Tommy waves him on.

“Go ahead, go ahead. Get your laughs out.”

Buck does, throwing his head back for a moment before looking back over at Tommy. He’s staring at Buck like he’s made of sunshine and Buck has never felt brighter.

“So, is this your way of telling me you're into leather, then?” Buck jokes.

“It’s my way of telling you,” Tommy stops, turns, and makes sure he’s looking directly into Buck’s eyes, “that first dates are terrifying no matter who you are with, but how you feel about someone at the end is all that matters.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks. He feels small with Tommy’s eyes on him, with Tommy’s hand around his waist, sliding to the small of his back where he’s unused to being touched so gently.

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees. Buck waits until Tommy glances down at his lips before he smiles.

“And how do you feel about me?” Buck asks. He brings his hands up to put one of Tommy’s broad shoulders and the other brushes a strand of Tommy’s hair back. The red that blooms on Tommy’s cheeks makes Buck’s heart sore.

“I feel…” Tommy begins to lean forward and Buck’s ready for the kiss this time. He isn’t going to be surprised. He knows what to do with his hands. He’s ready to show Tommy that he knows how to kiss better than he knows how to date.

But then Tommy’s gone, and when Buck realizes it, they’re already a few feet apart, Tommy walking backward down the street.

He shouts, “I feel a little damp and sticky. Come back to my place so we can fix that?”

Buck runs after him, shouting, “Is that an innuendo? I don’t get them all yet!”

Contagious laughter echoes through the almost empty streets, and joy thrums through Buck’s entire being. Awkwardness aside, he thinks he could easily get used to this.

[voidcat-senket]

SW Rare Pair 2024

Fallen Order/Jedi Survivor fills*

*as determined by the use of the "Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order Series (Video Games)" tag

and love you shall find

fic | 39k | T | Bode/Cal, Bode/Tayala | Inquisitor Cal Kestis

Bode Akuna refuses to run. Eleventh Brother finds himself unable to kill Tayala Akuna.

I got a problem, think I'm into it

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Moran is just minding his own business, sitting at the bar, taking in the view (heh), when Bode comes over to 'dissuade' him. It doesn't work.

Into Danger

fic | 1.9k | E | Bode/Cal | Porn without Plot

Bode and Cal hide from troopers in a storage closet and it gets horny fast

The Piece That Was Joy

fic | 20k | T | Bode/Tayala/Cal | Time Travel

Ten years after Kata lost her mother, she and Cal return to the husk of her home on Birren. While Kata meditates on her loss, Cal instead meditates on the Force Tear that dwells inside the space, with unexpected consequences. When they opens their eyes again, those ten years have fallen away.

Tanalorr is a grave

fic | 24k | M | Bode/Cal | Eldritch!Tanalorr

Which is worse? The echoes of deaths long forgotten, or the total absence of life where there should be a wealth of it? Tanalorr looks beautiful, but it’s empty: every flower and plant is little more than light and air, tricking the senses into seeing abundance where there is none. Bode survives his fight with Cal and it should be the perfect ending. Tanalorr is a paradise, a haven that glitters under the golden glow of the Abyss. But while Cal deals with the twin spears of his own guilt, and Bode’s refusal to accept the love he's offered, Tanalorr conspires to keep them apart.

The satisfaction of seeing two lovebirds get together

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Moran was flirting with Cal, and Bode didn't know what to do about it.

Tangled Up

art | G | Din/Boba/Cal | Bounty Hunting

It's hard enough to catch a Jedi solo, but somehow adding another hunter to the mix just makes things more difficult.

HortiCALture

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A passing conversation.

Gas Money

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When stranded on a backwater world while on his quest to find a Jedi, Din Djarin takes a bounty on a treasure hunter.

Eternally Bound

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Every day, Cal has to deal with the Empire, being stuck on Bracca, and more. And every night, Cal has to deal with the nightmares. Each one shares the same man within them. And finally, Cal sees the man from his nightmares face for the first time.

Homecoming

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Cal, Bode, Kata and Beedee go stargazing.

Empty Husks and Hungry Halls

fic | 8K | T | Cal/Reva | Inquisitor!Cal

When Third Sister returns from a three week long mission to find that someone new has shown up on Nur, she spends her precious free time to figure out who it is. Though the answer she gets is something far worse than she could have ever imagined.

Entry Log

fic | 12k | T | Cal/Rayvis | AU: Delayed Order 66

“Entry Log One. This is Commander Cal Kestis of the 13th Battalion on the Albedo Brave led by Jedi General Jaro Tapal.” There's something to be said about learning someone's life by a holovid journal they leave behind. The button is pressed again.

Braided Melody

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Bode braids Tayala's hair and tells her a story while doing so.

No Longer the Lost (No Longer the Same)

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At a celebration of the fall of the Empire, Cal realizes he cannot face Bode after everything, but he doesn't want to intrude on Kata's reunion with her father. He runs, Bode follows.

Undone

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Second commands. Third obeys.

[razormain]

quickly scribbled smth for a fic i wrote :) everyone read it its about romance positive aroace argenti

[ensinia-internetstranger]

Me waiting for the day this mf loses his shit please we need to see his sanity go out the window

[aleizeclaire]

One Hard Pill to Swallow

Emmett was the most collected of all the Cullen children but he wasn’t calm or collected right now.

“Carlisle–”

Carlisle pressed the phone against his face and stepped out of the Emergency ward, into the hallway. His ears pricked as he listened to her screams in the background. “Is Esme hurt? Emmett, what’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know,” Emmett spoke through his teeth. “That’s why I called you. Is today special or something?” Emmett could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen her break down. Usually it had something to do with her baby, but Emmett couldn’t think of anything that would have upset her like this.

Carlisle ran through the family calendar in his head, it wasn’t an important day that would set her off like this, it was just a normal Friday. “Where is she?”

“We’re at home, I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

“Stay where you are.” Carlisle demanded, already heading for the locker room, he’d hang up his coat, pass off his patients and be out the door. “I’ll see you in ten-minutes.”

—

Exactly eight-point-five minutes later, Carlisle’s Mercedes screeched to a halt in the driveway, and 2 seconds after that, he was inside the house. 

Something was wrong. The unnatural, suffocating silence emitting from the house, set him on edge. 

 Of the entire family, Emmett was the least likely to need him for anything, ever.  

“I can’t get her to come out and I can’t get in without breaking the house.” Emmett pointed towards the staircase. “She got quiet and in this house, that’s never been a good sign. She slowed down as soon as I called you.” 

There was always sound coming from Esme’s art room. She played soft classical music on the stereo system while she painted and when she was throwing pottery, 1960s love songs floated through the house. She was never loud, but there was always some level of sound coming from the room.

Then suddenly, there was nothing. No music, No gentle humming. Just silence, deafening and uncomfortable silence. The largest part of her breakdown was over.

Carlisle darted up the three flights of stairs, sliding on his heels when he reached the door to his wife’s art studio. He listened closely, waiting for some indication that she was in there. 

“Esme,” Carlisle called her name softly through the antique door and knocked twice before trying the handle. As expected, the glass knob wouldn’t budge. “May I come in?” 

He waited for a beat and heard the quiet snick of the lock and the door swung open.

Newspaper clippings were scattered across the hardwood floor, Carlisle had to step around them. He stooped onto the floor and grabbed one, but every headline said the same thing. Small Cemetery on the outskirts of Milwaukee: Land Reallocated’

“Oh no.”  

She’d moved to the floor for the extra space to spread out her research. Esme subscribed to all of the newspapers from the various towns the family moved to. It padded the recycling, helping them blend in with the rest of the community. 

What she’d found in Wisconsin, broke her. She wanted the floor to open underneath her so she could drop into the hole, allowing the uncertain aching darkness to swallow her whole and she would disappear.  She would never have to feel this kind of pain again.

When she finally spoke, “He’s gone.”  The hoarse whisper came from the corner of the room. Esme had wedged herself between the corner of her drafting table and the wall. She was hiding and still so afraid to take up too much physical space. Carlisle suddenly remembered the last time he saw her like this. Though it had been nearly 8 decades, the memory burned bright.

A year after her change, on the exact one year anniversary of her son's death Carlisle found her in the small coat closet, knees bent to her chest, dry-sobbing into a pillow so she wouldn’t be heard. Somehow, this was worse. Esme worked to keep the memories of her baby, they were so tightly intertwined with her vile first husband that she couldn’t think of one without the other.

The angular window cast a pathetic ray of sunlight over her head. A broken halo, over his angel. 

“Why are you here?”

“Emmett called.” If Carlisle’s heart could still move, it would have lurched into his throat when he saw her like that. 

“Carlisle–”

He cut off her argument and dropped down on the wood floor beside her. “You’re not alright.”

Though there were no tears, dark makeup smeared on her face and her hands. The collar of her shirt was torn and shallow pale lines marred her chest where she so clearly aimed to claw out her own heart. Folding himself into the small space with her, he pulled her into his lap and slid his hands over hers, holding them in place so she couldn’t reach for her chest again. With vampire strength, and Esme’s pristine manicure there was a real danger of her hurting herself.

“The city.” She choked out into the side of his neck. Chest heaving, hands shaking against him.

“Shh…” He stroked her back. “I got it, now.”  The evidence on the floor was all the information he needed.  

“They turned my baby’s grave into a parking lot!” The words tore out of her mouth in an angry hiss. Saying it aloud cemented the fact that her child’s final resting place was gone. She’d outlived her son, twice. 

The desecrated grave stood as a tangible reminder that in this semblance of a life, there was no place for fairness. Their never ending existence meant that they would always be the last people standing, while everyone around them died. It was the curse that came with immortality. 

Carlisle pressed his wife against his chest, helpless as she convulsed in his arms. Her hands clawed at her chest, screeching like steel on granite. 

“Stop trying to hurt yourself.” Carlisle locked her hands in his keeping them still. “Hold me,” he guided her hands to his shoulders and curled her fingers around either end of his scarf.  

 He held her tight as apologizes and pleas for forgiveness slipped through her sobs as she gasped for air and trembled.

“I left him there-”  

Carlisle knew there was no sense in reasoning with her, she didn’t need to be told that staying in Milwaukee would not have helped her son. Esme’s anguish couldn’t be reasoned away, it bubbled up like a pus infected boil needing to be lanced. 

“You’re forgiven.” He whispered into her hair, “I promise he forgives you.”

Sitting up slightly he grabbed the handmade quilt from the desk chair and covered her with it.  “Jasper.” Carlisle depended on Jasper’s enhanced hearing. “Help me.”  

 Carlisle kissed her hair, bereft of anything useful to do. All he could do was try to offer comfort. “I’m very sorry,” his words were not hollow, but she couldn’t hear him. Not really. “Both of you deserve better than this.”

 After nearly 80 years of marriage, he’d learned that sometimes all he had to do was shut up and hold her. Today was one of those days. The long-buried pain ran bone deep and he had no hope of ever truly alleviating her suffering. 

Her voice was frail when she could finally speak again. “My poor baby. I’m sorry.”

Carlisle, for the first time in a century, wished he could drug his wife. As a doctor he would’ve given her a xanax and put her to bed. But she needed this release and drugging her because it broke his heart seeing her so upset, would be selfish.

A minute later, Jasper was in the doorway. “You rang?”

“Can you make it easier on her?” She needed the release, he didn’t want to take it from her completely. “Calm her down gradually?” 

“I’ll try.” Jasper sat on the floor in the doorway, concentrating on Esme. A few seconds later, her breathing slowed and she’d stopped shaking.

“Breathe,” Carlisle pressed his palm against her chest, his fingers smoothed over her sternum as her eyes fluttered open. “Nice and slow.”

“He’s gone.” She blew out a breath, the hollow feeling in her chest weighing her down. “For real. He’s completely gone. What am I supposed to do, Carlisle? Leave flowers at a truck stop!”

“We’ll find another way. I promise, we will find a way to remember him.”

“That grave site was supposed to be permanent–suddenly–it’s not. He’s not here anymore and I don’t know how to do this.”

  “We’ll just  have to find another way…” he insisted,  but he couldn’t come up with a solution at the moment. The Cullens rarely stayed anywhere longer than a few years. Who could have foreseen that the little gravesite with the stone placard and  concrete angel wouldn’t be around for the next hundred years? 

He lifted Esme into his arms, letting her head rest on his shoulder, her breath tickled the side of his neck.“Mind your head, My Dearest,” he gently extracted her from the small space and held her against him, his long legs eating the short distance to their bedroom. 

****

“My poor boy,” the whispered words faded into the low light of the bedroom. The plush mattress dipped when Carlisle sat beside her, moving her hair out of her face. One finger ran back and forth against her cheek.

“His poor mother, too.” He kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger there.“I’ll be right back.”

Before she could ask where he was going, Carlisle was at her side with a warm, wet washcloth in hand. Carlisle was no stranger to washing wounds and all he could do was hope that Esme’s would start to heal.

“What are you doing?”

“You have makeup all over your face,” he explained, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear where it had slipped from her ponytail.

“Oh.” 

Carlisle washed the makeup from her eyes, he moved down the bridge of her nose and  droplets of water drifted down her chin were the closest she would get to real tears.

“Does it even count?” A shy, timid question that Esme didn’t want to hear the answer to.

 “Of course he counts.” He moved the cloth down her cheek, ever so gently;  slowly chasing the dark streaks of makeup that melted off her face. “You held him in your body, kept him warm, safe and well fed. You loved him because that’s what a mother does.”

“Not well enough.” She choked, still teetering on the verge of emotion. “Not long enough.”

“It’s not your fault.” He didn’t know what happened to her son, but he knew Esme to be certain that she’d had nothing to do with his death. 

“It was only three days.” There wasn’t enough time, she didn’t kiss her boy’s face enough times or watch his feet draw up when he slept. She didn’t get to read to him or even take him outside and let him feel the sunlight on his face. It wasn’t enough time, enough life to count herself as his mother.

“Joseph is your little boy. You nurtured him and loved him for as long as you had him, that doesn’t change.” He’d moved to her hands now, tenderly washing between each of her fingers and across her palms.

His hands slipped down her neck, barely grazing the nearly invisible self-inflicted wounds across her chest. 

“Let me take a look.”

“It’s fine,” she tried to pull away but his hand on her shoulder held her in place.

“No, Esme.” He turned on the bedside lamp and retrieved his doctor’s bag from beside the bed. “It’s not fine.” He insisted, angling a penlight so the light shone across her chest.  

“Carlisle please–”

“Answer the question, please. Does it hurt whilst I touch it?”

“N–” She sucked in a breath when his fingers prodded against her collarbone and down her chest.

“That would be a ‘yes’” He answered his own question, continuing to palpate the area.  “Please stop trying to hurt yourself.” There was no question she’d cut herself. A long jagged line stretched across her breastbone, over her unbeating heart.  

She didn’t deserve the pain and trauma of her human life. Now, her only tie left to that life was gone. 

****

When he was finished and the ruined makeup had been washed away, Carlisle laid down beside Esme, holding her close.  Her tangled curls falling across his chest. It was his fault for not keeping up with the gravesite. Carlisle knew he should have made it a priority to take Esme back to Milwaukee. The harrowing arrival of their grandchild and subsequent need to gather every vampire they’d ever had contact with; to confront the Volturi, took priority. Still, he should have made more of an effort to preserve the cemetery. Esme and Joseph did not deserve Carlisle’s negligence.

 Mere words of apology couldn’t fix this, she would tell him that it wasn’t his fault. Without another comment, she’d kiss him, comfort him while she was the one in dire need of tenderness, and drop the subject completely. Esme wouldn’t hold a grudge, she didn’t have a mental rolodex of his mistakes filed away for ammunition to use later. She would just forgive him.

Carlisle didn’t want to be forgiven.

“Lay back,” he pressed one hand behind her head, angling her face away from his, giving him a clear look at her chest. 

The venom washed up his throat, coating his tongue and he bent forward, sealing her wounds with his kiss.

[j-marlowe]

Happy Pride to whatever is going on with Kanin and Sarren. May they continue to be toxic exes.

[miralines]

uhh. I have no real excuse for this but. catboy king cole