#but happiness because i don't have to think about all this anymore

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— Yeehaw' it's cowgirl era!

pairings: leah williamson x reader

summary: readers' in her cowgirl era as she goes to nashville with leah and her family, she tries to contain her excitement, but its' too much to handle at the end of the night.

↪ this is my fav one shot to write, because I love country music!

and as always thank you to @alotofpockets for the help/inspiration to keep going with this fic!

"I'm so tired, why's the airport so noisy?" You grumble in complaint, all you want to do is sleep but with the news around the airport, its' difficult to do that.

You're tired, so tired. You weren't going to miss the chance to speak to your best friend in Australia though.

Stupid time zones really do suck.

"Well, that's what you get when you don't sleep, monkey," Leah chuckles, glancing at you while you are curled up on the floor.

"Its' not my fault though-- Kyra phoned me!" You whine in protest.

Leah chuckles and shakes her head, "Surely you can't be comfy down there?" She wonders, trying to understanding your reasoning to lie on the floor.

"Its' fine," You murmur, keeping your eyes shut and trying to ignore everyone around so you can sleep.

"Why don't you come and sit up here, love?" Berny, Leahs' grandma suggests, "You can't be comfortable down there."

"M' fine here," You repeat, trying to be as polite as possible.

"Shes' fine, Grandma. I'm happy for monkey to sleep wherever as long as I don't have to chase after her," Leah tells the older women, speaking nothing but the truth about the matter.

"What?" Jordan, Leahs' older cousin chuckles.

Leah exhales a sigh and locks her phone from where she's previously scrolling through Instagram, "Monkey likes to do this thing where she bolts, at literally any single chance that she gets. So as long as she's not making me run after her then I'm fine with that," She explains to them both.

Jordan blinks her eyes in confusion, "Uh, er, what?"

"Don' make me move, I'm comfy!" You whine from your position on the floor still.

"See?" Leah gestures to you with an amused smile, "Be grateful shes' not trying to pet the dogs over there." She adds.

"That was one time!" You exclaim in protest.

You try pet a few dogs' in the airport and suddenly everyone starts to make a big deal out of it, pft.

All you wanted to do was say hi to them.

You like animals, so what?

"I have so many questions right now," Jordan remarks.

Leah chuckles amusedly, "Well, we might be here a while then."

"The floors' not comfy anymore," You complain, huffing in annoyance.

"I thought you said it was?" Leah teases you at your own expense.

"Well now I'm not and everyones' been too loud," You whine in frustration, scrambling to get up from the floor, "Everyone needs to shuuuut up!"

"Uh, Le, is she okay?" Jordan turns to look at Leah in concern.

"Oh, yeah, this is just monkey being well, this is just monkey being her normal self-- Ooft, I didn't think you'd literally flop yourself down on me there," Leah groans as she feels your whole body weight completely slump down on her.

You let out a yawn and rest your head on her shoulder, "You make a comfy pillow, so deal with it." You state.

"But, you know..." Leahs' words are cut short by you.

"Shush, you're bein' too loud, Le," You grumble, not happy with her continuing to yap in your ear when you just want to sleep.

"Oh you poor baby," Leah mocks you.

"Mean Malfoy," You murmur under your breath, but it's still loud enough for the blonde to hear.

"What-- Whos' Malfoy?" The blonde's completely thrown off by the namedrop of a certain character.

"You are," You don't hesistate to admit.

"What? I am... I am not--" Leahs' still in disbelief to even realise that you'd managed to drop off to sleep while using her shoulder as a pillow, "Oh, she's asleep. Would you look at that?" She mutters.

"Must've been tired," Berny chuckles, amusedly.

"I still-- I... I don't look like him," Leah is still continuing to have a full blown crisis over the newfound nickname, "Do you guys think I look like Malfoy?" She questions, confused.

"Hey, monkey. You're quiet," Leah pokes her head around the door to check in on you, after not hearing much from you since you had all arrived at the hotel, "Whatcha up to?" She questions.

"Watchin' Black Widow," You pause the current film your watching and  peer your head up from your iPad, "Wouldn't it be so cool to have Widow Bites?" You wonder.

That would definitely be so cool.

Apparently Leah thinks different by her facial expression.

"I think I'd fear for everyones' safety around you with them things," Leah remarks, shaking her head in disagreement, "What would you even use them for anyways?" She asks.

Shrugging your shoulders, you fumble with the strings of your hoodie, "Hurt my enemies and stuff, ye know'?" 

"Enemies?" Leah questions in amusement.

"I got 'em, Le. Loads of 'em!" You tell the blonde.

Leah continues to look at you bewildered, "Right, oookay then. Well, we're gonna get ready to head to the festival soon, so are you ready to go?" She wonders.

"Uh huh, just watchin' this to kill the time-- Ooh! I still need one of them fancy hats!" You exclaim in realisation, jumping up from the bed.

"Slow down there cowgirl," Leah chuckles, making the reference to the jumper that you're wearing, "I've got you covered." She gestures to the cowboy hat which she just so happens to have in her hand before she plonks it on top of your head.

"Yeehaw! Howdy there partner!" You beam a wide grin as you try and put on the perfect accent.

The blonde continues to laugh in amusement, "You are something else sometimes, monkey," Shaking her head, she slings her arm around your shoulder, "C'mon, lets' go and find my family." She adds.

"Whatcha mean by that?" You turn your head to look at her in confusion.

"Well, you've heard the phrase 'one sandwich short of a picnic', right?" Leah explains to you as the two of you start to head out of the hotel room.

"Uh huh," You nod your head slowly in understanding.

"You're that sandwich, monkey," Leah states as she smiles.

Now its' your turn to look at the blonde bewildered, "What? I--"

"Anyways, let's go before we're late!" Leah interjects, tugging you in the direction to go and meet her two family members down in the lobby of the hotel.

"Whoa!" Your eyes are lit in excitement as you take in the sight around you of the festival, "We're in Nashville!"

"We are indeed, monkey," Leah chuckles in amusement, using her usual nickname for you since your well, a cheeky monkey.

The blonde also has another nickname though, menace, but that's usually referred to when you're being well, a typical little shit in her eyes.

So, most of the time... You guess.

You still to look around at the atmosphere in awe, "Whoa! This is so cool!" You whisper in awe, not actually believing you were here right now, "Like, I can't believe we're here-- It's so awesome, isn't it?" You turn to the blonde for her answer.

"I can see somebody's excited, huh?" Leahs' grandma, Berny chimes in as she watches you take it all in.

"Hey!" You gasp excitedly, spotting a girl nearby who just so happens to be wearing the same boots as you are, "That girls' got the same boots that I've got! We're totally matching!" You can't help but squeal.

"That's bound to happen here monkey," Leah remarks as she rests her hand on your shoulder and you sense that she's got something to say, "Listen, I know you're excited to be here, but I don't want you to be running off at all, alright?" She questions, knowing just what you're like.

"C'mon Le, I know that. I'm no idiot!" You dramatically whine.

"I didn't say that, but you know, sometimes you get distracted--" Leahs' words are cut short when you do in fact get distracted.

It's only a matter of seconds before it would happen.

"Look, they've got Churros!" You gesture over to a nearby van that's selling them and try to walk off in that direction.

"Ah, ah, no you don't," Leah's quick to yank hold of you by the back of your jumper, "See? This is exactly what I mean!" She states, firmly.

"But there's Churros, Le-- Churro's are life!" You all but insist, you couldn't get enough of the sugary treats.

"Don't even think about running off, menace!" The blonde is quick to warn you seeing that it looks like you're keen to bolt in that very minute, "I can see that look in your eye!" She adds.

However, the blondes' made the rookie error of letting go of you as they start to walk over to enter the arena where the music would be, at least the blonde still thinks you're following behind her.

Only for her to turn round and her eyes' widen when she realises you had not followed her at all, but went wandering off because of course, when there's Churros around... It's an easy decision to make.

So you bolted, running right in the direction for them without even second guessing it.

"Where the hell has she gone?!" Leahs' throwing her hands up in the air and looking fed up already, not even making it near the arena yet and you're already up to your old tricks, "I swear to god, I need to put a tracker on that girl!" She grumbles under her breath.

Both Berny and Jordan can't help but laugh, "You've got your hands full there, huh?" Her cousin jokes.

"Yeah, you're telling me," The blonde pinches the bridge of her nose, "I need to go find her, I'll be back." She huffs, very much not in the mood to deal with your antics.

And here Leah thought you will be tame tonight...

Ha, no.

"Good luck, love," Her grandma tells her, amusedly.

Leahs' shaking her head in annoyance, wandering through the various food vans' to get to where you where, currently being served the battered sweet treats, "There you are, menace! C'mere!" She states, annoyed.

You whip your head round and give the blonde a cheeky grin, "Le, look. Check out all the Churros I got! Do yer' want one?" You offer one out to the blonde, completely unaware of how peeved she is.

"What, no, I do not want one. What I want is for you to stop wander off," Leah looks at you in disbelief as she is quick to yank hold of the back of your jumper, "C'mon, now!" She states, firmly.

"Sooo, you don't want a Churro then?" You repeat the question, clearly not getting the idea of how annoyed Leah was, "Oh well, more for me then..." You shrug your shoulders and continue to shove it in your mouth.

Keeping a hold of you in one hand to not make the same mistake for you to run off again, Leah uses her other hand to rip the Churro out of your hand and toss it in a nearby bin, "You know you shouldn't be eatin' that many. You're going to get sick!" She tells you.

"But they're so good though!" You whine in protest.

Leah shakes her head, "No, no, that's enough of them. I'm not dealin' with you being sick. You know what you're like with that much sugar!" She states, firmly.

"COUNTRY GIRL, SHAKE IT FOR ME, GIRL," You sing along to the lyrics of the song that's currently being performed at the top of your lungs, having the best time of your life, "SHAKE IT FOR ME!"

If there was a table to stand on top of right now, your damn sure that you would be standing on it and pumping your fist in the air.

"Enjoyin' yourself there, monkey?" Leah glances at you and smiles, although slightly concerned for the impending sugar crash that's going to follow anytime soon.

"Hell yeah! I'm in my cowgirl era right now!" You scream in response, swaying to the music and continuing to live in the moment, "I never ever wanna leave this place!" You exclaim.

Leah laughs slightly and shakes her head, "Stay here, alright? I'm goin' to get some drinks-- Don't even think about moving!" She warns, following what happened earlier on when you went on an adventure for Churros.

"Ooo, drink. I want one!" You insist, whipping your head in the blondes' direction, "I'll take a vodka coke, please!" You declare.

"Sure, nice try. How about we hold the coke, eh?" Leah remarks, amusedly, "Legal age is 21 here, sorry, monkey." She pats you on your shoulder.

"Boo!" You huff in protest at the news, "C'mon, the rules don't have to apply to me!" You tell her.

Rules are there to be broken, right?

Definitely.

"Yes they do," Jordan chimes in.

"Pft, says who?" You scoff and roll your eyes at the older women. Your definitely not a rule follower most of the time, "Rules don't mean nothing to me."

"Me, because the rules really do apply in this case, monkey. I'm not being the one bailing you out of jail," Leah tells you, laughing in amusement.

You can't help but huff once more, "Meanie, complete meanie, Malfoy."

"I do not look like Malfoy!" The blonde exclaims.

"Yer you do, carbon copy of him," You remark cheekily, sticking your tongue out at her.

"You little-- I'll be back. Stay put here, don't even think about moving or I'll follow through with the threat of that tracker!" Leah warns, wagging her finger in front of your face, "Stay." She repeats.

"Woof," You reply to the blonde by barking, being completely, well, being completely you.

"Le? Pst, Le!" You not to gently nudge the blonde in the ribs as you start to get bored in the middle of a performance and want her attention, "Le... Leeeaaah!" You continue be that lovely irritating twerp that everyone seems to put up with.

"What?" Leah turns to face you confused, "What's up, monkey?" She questions.

"Hi," You can't help but snicker in amusement, just winding her up for the sake of it.

Mission success when you see the facial expression is unamused.

"Your such a pest sometimes," The blonde grumbles, shaking her head before she takes a swig of her drink.

You smirk and take the opportunity to be even more of a pest per say, "Malfoy's cranky." You murmur, just loud enough to still be heard.

Leah's head whips around in your direction, "I heard that, you little shit!"

"Language!" You gasp dramatically and widen your eyes, "You said a bad word!"

You feel a swat around the back of your head, "You're a menace sometimes."

"Le, love, don't hit the child," The blondes' grandma chides.

"She's not a child, she's a literal devil," Leah remarks, scoffing as she scowls at you as if to be cautious of your next move.

"Regardless, don't hit Y/N," The older women states.

You can't help but stick your tongue out at the blonde, "I win!" You exclaim, doing a little victory dance in your spot where your sat.

"I can ground you again, so be careful with your next move!" Leah warns, giving you a pointed luck.

Where's the fun in that?

You faux hurt and rest your hand on your chest, "Who, me? I didn't do out. You can't prove anything," You play innocent in front of Leah's family members.

"I was right, you really are a devil sometimes!" Leah murmurs, shaking her head in disbelief, "A complete menace to society."

"Yeah, but you still keep me around, right?" You can't help but grin cockily, letting out a sudden squeal when you feel an arm wrap around your neck and pull you down slightly, "Agh! Lemme go, lemme go!" You whine in protest.

Soon enough the wave of the sugar rush soon turns into a sugar crash.

Eating a bunch Churros was really, really not a good idea.

Although they were too good to not eat, so definitely worth it at the time in your opinion.

However, now, it is a completely different story now your energy is starting to wear off.

The state being where you somehow manage to slump off your chair down to the floor and curl yourself into a ball on the ground in front of Leah and her family.

You just want to get comfy, and the ground seems acceptable.

No judgement here, alright?

Leah's a bit drunk from the alcohol but seeing you in the way that you are and shes' sobering up pretty quick, "Monkey, what an earth are you doin'?"

"I'm tired," You murmur in half asleep state, finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

Leah exhales a sigh and shakes her head, "Why don't you come back up here and sleep on the chair, like a normal person?" She suggests.

You barely are shaking your head in response due to the tiredness, "No thanks, I'm comfy here."

"That can't possibly be comfy though?" The blonde continues to look at you in disbelief.

Jordan can't help but look over at the chaos and chuckle slightly, "Are you okay, kid?" She asks.

"M' tired and the grounds comfortable," Your voice is just loud enough to be heard, as your eyes flutter shut as your just content enough to listen to the music, "Night night."

"Monkey, come on. The grounds dirty and cold, get up please," Leah looks at you in bewilderment, trying to get you up of the floor where's there no doubt several amount of things you definitely shouldn't be lying in, "Monkey, come on. Up here." She repeats.

There's not much response from you, because somehow bizarrely, you have managed to get curl yourself up in a ball and fall fast asleep.

The soft snores are a dead giveaway that you are indeed out cold.

"Is she... Is she really asleep?" Jordan looks completely baffled.

Berny peers over at you and chuckles, "It appears she is."

"Monkey can sleep anywhere. I've never seen her fall asleep in the middle of a festival though," Leah snorts in amusement, before she takes pity on you and moves off her seat to crouch down and gently scoop you up into her arms, settling back onto her seat with you nestled against her.

It takes a few minutes before you shift in your sleep, burying your face in the blondes' neck and letting out soft snores, which make all 3 women smile in amazement.

"Shes' out for the count so it seems," Leah murmurs, swaying to the beat of the music and softly patting your back to allow you to still stay asleep for the rest of the concert, "Hopefully she can make it all the way through the acts tomorrow before she sleeps." She jokes.

Another day in Nashville, a whole lot more for you to see.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[hemmingsleclerc]

One last time pt2┃charles leclerc

taglist

@is-just-a @charlesgirl16 @spookystitchery @leclercsluvs @itsjustkhaos @willowpains @magical-spit @falaihullo @emryb @ssararuffoni

ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨୧ ༘✰ ༘ ˚ ˚ ༘ ‧₊˚𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹

Y/N's hands shook as she wrote the message to Charles: "See you at our place by the old lighthouse in 20 minutes." She hit send before she could doubt herself and tossed the phone out of her reach. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her mind filled with thoughts of what she was about to do.

The old lighthouse had always been their place, a small hidden place where they escaped the pressures of their lives and were themselves without cameras or people around. As she drove there, memories flooded her: late-night talks, stargazing, and the countless times Charles had made her laugh when she felt like crying or vice versa.

When Y/N arrived she was pacing nervously, checking her phone every few seconds. Finally, she saw Charles' car stop and her heart began to beat even harder and she felt a chill run down her spine.

Charles came out and walked towards her nervously, his expression one of mere concern and confusion.

''Hey''

'Hey''

She took a deep breath, her thoughts confused and chaotic. “Charlie, I…” her voice broke and she looked away, gathering courage. "I need to tell you something"

Charles said softly, moving closer until he was a few inches away from her. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know it."

Y/N nodded and her eyes met his. "Well. Here it goes. The song I sang tonight is about you, I know you already knew that because it's been everywhere but I wanted to tell you myself. It's always been about you. All my songs have been about you. I've had a crush on you since we were kids and I was too scared to tell you because I thought you'd never feel the same. And seeing you with Elise just… broke my heart. But I had to tell you, even if it means losing you as a friend. I can't keep pretending anymore and I understand if you want to stop seeing me or talking to me I will understand."

Charles stared at her, his eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence lengthened, unbearable and heavy.

"Y/N, I…" he started, but she cut him off, her words coming out quickly.

"I know it's absurd because you don't feel the same and now I'm just saying a lot of things and making everything awkward and…"

Charles stepped forward, took her face in his hands and kissed her. It was a kiss filled with years of unexpressed emotions, longing and love. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly melted into his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as she passionately kissed him back, standing on her tiptoes.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, their foreheads pressed against each other. "ma cherié," Charles whispered, his voice full of emotion and desire. "I've always loved you. I was too scared to ruin what we had. I thought you only saw me as a friend and I didn't want to lose you, I didn't want to lose us."

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes, but this time they were tears of joy. "Charlie, I've had a crush on you since we were 15. What the hell?"

Charles laughed through his tears and hugged her tightly. “I can't believe we've wasted so much time,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of relief and happiness as he placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

Y/N leaned back a little and looked at him with a smile. “Wait, what about Alex? “I can’t do this to her.”

Charles chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, Alex. We're not actually dating. We never were, apparently swe both like people of the same... type. It was all just a misunderstanding. She's just a friend and we thought it would be easier to let people think we were together instead of constantly explaining our friendship over and over again''

Y/N laughed, feeling lighter than she had in years.

A few weeks later, the Monaco Grand Prix weekend arrived and the paddock was full of life. Y/N and Charles had decided to keep their relationship private for a while, wanting to enjoy their new happiness without the public's attention. But as they walked hand in hand, their love was impossible to hide.

ynln has posted a story

caption: 🏎️❤️‍🔥

f1

Liked by f1_gossip, ynln_updates and 582,583 others

f1 Look who's here! Our favourite girl of the paddock!

username MY BABIES!

username YN 🥹💓💓

usermame chayn again I'm sobbing😭😭

f1

Liked by 2,823,108 others

f1 CHARLES LECLERC WINS IN MONACO🏆🤩

HE WINS AT HOME!!!

username THE WAY HE RAN CRYING TO YN I'M WEAK

username HE BROKE THE CURSE

username 😭😭😭😭😭

charles_leclerc

Liked by 3,685,298 others

charles_leclerc BEST DAY EVER THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍

My very first win in home and finally able to call her mine ❤️🥲

username THE FUCKING HARD LUNCHING!?!?!?!

lewishamilton

schecoperez Bravo Charles!

arthur_leclerc Let's goooo

pierregalsy Bravo Champ!! Trop content pour toi!!!

username SUPPORTIVE BESTIES THAT'S WHAT WE LOVE

ynln Congrats my golden boy

ynln

Liked by charles_leclerc, pierregalsy and 1,593,294 others

ynln P1 IN MONACO!!! Tremendously proud of you Charlie, I know how much you have trained to get this wonderful achievement and I am truly captivated by your great determination and love! I love you from here to the moon my ferrari boy

pierregasly happy for both

charles_leclerc s'il te plaît, arrête mon amour, je suis sur le point de pleurer, je t'aime (please stop my love, I'm about to cry, I love you)

username My parents

username Right person, right time

Sorry if it's late in posting but I happen to graduate so yes! hope you like it🥲🤍

[bluedew]

general reading!!

i don't know if this is gonna pop up because tumblr's been funny, if it doesn't i might have to make a new account

if it does, then hi, i'm kat, and i'm a tarot reader! this is my first post so please give me criticism and feedback if you happen to stumble across it. 🕸️

PILE 1

you seem like you're yearning for something. maybe somebody, something, the past, etc. you're lingering on what's gone, and this in part due to the lack of closure that you feel you have experienced. some things leave for the better; you cannot keep your heart in the past while your body moves ahead with time. you seem like a fairly shy, naive person, and maybe somebody took advantage of that. you might have some issues with maternal or feminine figures in your life. right now, you have to examine why you think the way you do; look at the recurring patterns and symbols in your life.

signs : monarch butterflies, magenta, 666, spotify playlists

PILE 2

you're trying to grow. and pile 2, i'm proud of you. i don't think you want to be stuck in pain anymore and you're trying desperately to be happier. i think either soon (or you already have) you will realize that happiness doesn't come just from one aspect of your life, whether it be material, romantic, sexual, etc. you're only searching for happiness in one part of your life, when in reality it's hidden all around you. also try to control your irritability; you aren't an evil person, no matter how much you want to believe that you are. but you must heal, or you will hurt innocents by rejecting healing.

signs: felines, the ocean, specific starbucks order, constellations

PILE 3

you're like the moon. and you don't see that. you're probably deeply insecure of some aspect of yourself; but you forget to look at the whole picture. you carry the mystery of the ocean and the brightness of the stars, my darling. and it's about time you realize that. stop breaking yourself into pieces in order to be more 'edible' or 'appealing'. if people aren't hungry enough to keep all of you in their life, they're not your people. you're larger than life, and you MUST stay that way. it is not a bad thing, in your case. stay bright!

signs: fire, 111, 1212, chapter books, teaching

this was very experimental and i don't know what to think of it. please let me know if it resonated; if it did, i might make more.

[faeriekit]

some venting: on parent fandom acceptance and the danny phantom tag

Honestly, the worst thing that certain Danny Phantom fans have done on this site to other fans is say that dp x dc is its own fandom. It's not. There's no such thing as a "crossover fandom" unique unto itself. You can say that people are too into this crossover or too into this au or whatever, but people who are fans of DC and Danny Phantom are into Danny Phantom and DC. That's just. What it is. Both properties are cool and combining them adds more characters and settings to play with together. All lore leads back to one or both parent fandoms, because those are the source material.

"Well the DC crossovers are so different—" Please. There have been Danny Phantom and Teen Titans crossovers since Danny Phantom was airing. I have read crossovers with House, NCIS, Supernatural, and probably anything else ffn had to bother with. One of my favorite works is a Gravity Falls fancomic that I still hope will update one day. No one cared how it was crossover then. In fact, I would say that we were one of the most crossed-over properties I knew of at the time that wasn't a SuperWhoLock-type popular show. DC crossovers are not new, they're just popular now.

"Well, it's got its own lore! >:(" Oh, like the vivisection aus? The Full Ghost aus? The corpse aus? The Danny-is-a-portal aus?? Tell me more about how new it is for an au to have its own unique lore. Love to hear it. Definitely it's the same for every author with no variation. There's for sure no unique takes from fans at every step of the way.

"Well, there's so MUCH of it." Tell me more about how other people having fun in their own way is your problem. Go ahead. Tell me more about how other people doing their own thing is personally horrible to you. It's really terrible when people do things you don't want to engage with, isn't it. It has to be separate from your fun. There is definitely no place where they blend; it has to be segregated altogether.

"But they're doing it in MY tag!" Oh, the Danny Phantom tag? The one with Danny in it? Where he's a main character? In the art and fic where he features??

The result is exactly as you'd expect; people who would be interested in joining the Danny Phantom community and making art and fic long-term because they like the characters and the show are getting sidelined because they're failing to like the show in the 'right way'. People who might love to join in and participate in community events and discussion and bring new ideas and aus to the table are being told that they like something completely different than the show in a way that, you know, somehow the original and extremely malleable fandom isn't??

I've been following multiple Danny Phantom blogs (or their author blogs that used to post dp fic) on and off on different accounts since 2015. I used to read Danny Phantom fanfic on ffn on my ipod touch during lunch or on my laptop once I made it home from school years before I even made a tumblr. I used to look forward to Dannymay and Ectober and I think I was even on tumblr the year that Narwhals started the Dannypocalypse?? (I for sure only saw the fallout though. I think I was busy that day)

I don't even open the Danny Phantom tag anymore. I still follow the people I follow...minus the people who've talked crap about fans who like Danny Phantom wrong, apparently, and I hope that good art comes my way without the constant underlying message that we're a scourge on our own fandom, I guess.

Congrats. There are no Danny Phantom fans who find the show through this form of crossover content. You've convinced them there's no point. They have their own tag, their own headcanons, their own fics, and their own culture. Are you happy now? Are you proud to be the fandom that doesn't want new fans? Is it nice, that people won't want to see your art and fics now, despite being hungry for new content? Did it help? Are you better for it? Did you maintain that canon purity you craved??

I saw a supernatural x danny phantom art piece today that kicked ass. It's from an artist I really, really like, who makes a lot of great stuff. I've bought their merch before and was excited all the way through their creative journey. No one tried to jump on them for crossover posting in the Danny Phantom space, using lore that's unique to that crossover.

But it's not about the crossover itself, is it.

[bitter-hibiscus]

I absolutely your Robin Jason headcannons, do you have any more? Maybe some Red Hood ones as well?

!!! im so happy to be getting these asks this is so fun

More Jaybin hcs (part one here):

He has a bunch of 1960s style clothes because Rena likes dressing like a mix of Amy Winehouse and Twiggy

baby goth in the making thanks to Natalia. she gives him a collection of Edgar Allen Poe's poems and he's just hook, line, and sinker into the subculture

He usually listens to metal bands but his guilty pleasure music is slow ballads and gayboy pop (think Kevin Atwater and Troye Sivan)

His favorite rogue to fight is KGBeast because of sentimentality, since KGB is the first rogue he ever defeated as Robin

He has pimples on his thighs and neck but somehow never on his face

He hates having his nails painted because of sensory issues, but lets Rena paint them anyway

His favorite of Dick's teammates is Vic, because he let Jason watch him fix one of Kori's alien weapons once, and he's super patient and kind and answers all of Jason's questions

Red Hood hcs:

Still mostly listens to metal but his favorite band is Rainbow Kitten Surprise (his favorite song is Finalist)

He has a journal where he writes shitty, angsty poetry with a fountain pen

He can never quite resist petting dogs during patrol, so there are multiple pictures online of Mafia Boss Red Hood playing with civilian's puppies

Has a tattoo of a wilded rose on top of his batarang scar to hide it. It's corny and ugly as hell but that was kind of the point. After he starts dating Rose he tells her it's because they were destined to meet. She gags every time

full-fledged romantic goth now. I'm talking manic panic white base, big eyeliner, and fake fangs. I'm talking huge messy hair with about a ton of hairspray. I'm talking "hates that every goth clothing he can find has bats on it"

His main mug is one of those corny millennial "don't talk to me until I've had my coffee" ones that Roy got for him during the outlaws. Jason uses it ironically but Roy thinks he also finds it funny

Sometimes when he's feeling nostalgic Jason will lay down on a rooftop and try to find where Oa is up in the sky, because he and Kyle looked for constellations together during Cosmic Mistake

Contrary to popular belief, his favorite superhero isn't Wonder Woman, it's Black Canary. Which is too bad because she hates his guts

Sent Sasha to live with an ex-con he trusted in South Dakota. He still sends her gifts often but they don't talk anymore since they realized how bad he was to her mental health

Deathstroke's #5 hater. Loses only to all 3 Wilson children (minus Res), Cassandra Cain, and Oliver Queen

Really wants to meet Connor Hawke because he was actually being genuine in GA Vol3 when he told Ollie he'd always wanted to meet him, and has since really really wanted to meet all of the Arrows even though none of them like him. He's the world's worst fanboy

Will do anything Talia asks of him but spits on Ra's face if he so much as looks in Jason's direction

Calls Damian "little prince" in Arabic (Amir Le-Zghir) specifically because of the book, but ALSO because it was what Willis called him when he was a child

Duke is his favorite bat because he isn't afraid to make fun of Jason, gets into a shit ton of trouble, and swears around Bruce like it's nothing

Whew, I think that's enough for a single post. Still have a lot more though lmao

[fragileheartbeats]

Hey! I just saw the first House of the Dragon episode and opened your blog to see your opinions on it, everything you said about Aegon is freaking true, our king is the best father, but I'm not here to ask about that. Since you have read the books, what is your opinion on blood and cheese? I haven't read the book because they are not available in spain (I can't found it anywhere) and I heard so many people talk about it and everyone whith a diferentes take that I don't know what happened in the book anymore and if the show runners made the black actions less several again like they always do.

They fucked that up for obvious reasons that we already know, just like how they always did.

First of all Alicent was with Haelena when that happened and it took a toll on both of them. She wasn't moaning with Criston between her legs (I love that sex scene tho).

And there's no Maelor. Like the most important part was that Haelena had to choose between her sons and she chose Maelor. Then blood and cheese mocked Mealor and they said "you see little boy, your mother don't love you." And then they kill Jaehaerys instead of Maelor. They wanted to rape Haelena and her 6 years old daughter Jaehaera.

After that Haelena couldn't face Mealor because of that and slowly gone to madness and then she killed herself (if rumors about Rhaenyra killing her being false).

And the way she was while Jaehaerys was beheaded was very dull. And they kinda did that on purpose. They show how Rhaenyra breakdown while Haelena was just like 👁️👄👁️ while her son was killed.

And I think it's stupid that Daemon tell blood and cheese to kill Aemond and if they couldn't find him then kill Aegon's son. Like wtf? Daemon especially wanted to kill his son because he wanted Aegon to feel what Rhaenyra felt. That's just dumb. Also I don't think he's that stupid to think these two can actually kill Aemond.

Also Rhaenyra never said she wanted especially Aemond. She actually didn't give a fuck when blood and cheese happened and actually was kinda happy and satisfied with it.

Some people like to say "well they did a good job because the actors are children and–"

Which don't make sense to me either. Because we seen child actors playing worse than a scene like this.

The only good thing about this episode was the way they showed Aegon's love towards his children and small folks.

[punkshort]

What would a pregnancy scare look like between ikwya Joel and Reader? What do you think Joel’s reaction would be? Love your work ❤️‍🔥

Hi! I'm sorry I know you sent this in a month ago. I have a stockpile of asks/requests that I've been working through and I wanted to give this one some thought because I think both their reactions would be different pre and post accident.

I Know Who You Are Masterlist

Pre-accident Joel would absolutely panic. I think he would immediately think of Sarah and how he failed her, then Ellie and how he almost failed her, and he would get too in his head about failing a third child. He would probably say something he would end up regretting in the heat of the moment and I think pre-accident reader would give it right back to him. She wouldn't stand for his shit, she would call him out and remind him it takes two to tango and it wasn't something she expected, either, but there's no point in being an asshole about it because what's done is done.

They would probably get into a fight about it and Joel would grab the bottle of whiskey and take a shot. Then, without really thinking, while Joel was rambling on and on about how dangerous it is to have a baby, reader would reach for the bottle and Joel would slap her hand away, asking her 'Are you fuckin' crazy? You might be pregnant!' And reader, feeling embarrassed that she almost made a mistake, would yell back, 'It's your fault! You got me all worked up, I can't think straight! What do you even care, anyway?' And Joel would throw the bottle back into the cupboard and shout, ''Course I care! Kid'll already be stubborn as shit with her mama's smart mouth, we don't need to be addin' to it!'

Then reader's eyes will soften a bit when she says, 'You think it's a girl?' And Joel, still working through all his anger and adrenaline, will flare his nostrils and slam his fist on the counter and say, ''Course it'll be a girl! Look 'round. I'm surrounded by girls who talk back to me and drive me fuckin' crazy all damn day. Why would this be any different?' Reader would step a little closer and wrap her arms around his midsection, resting her chin on his chest while she bats her eyes up at him and says, 'Maybe it'll be a boy.' And Joel's resolve would begin to crack. The corner of his mouth would twitch and his hands would slowly find their place on reader's hips as he thought about the idea of having a little boy. All his anxiety and anger would melt away when he asks, 'Think we can name him after my Pops?'

-

Now post-accident Joel and reader are different.

They've been through hell and back. Joel thought he would lose the love of his life. After everything they went through, I think both of them have a new lease on life. Initially, Joel would be shocked, then scared, then happy. It would be a rollercoaster of emotions. Reader would be terrified, telling him she has no idea what she's going to do, she doesn't know anything about babies, she's not going to be a good mom and she would begin to cry. Joel would chuckle softly and pull her close, then murmur in her hair she was wrong, that she would make a wonderful mom and she wouldn't go through it alone. He would tell her all the reasons why she would be a good mom: how patient and strong she is, how smart and headstrong she is, and how he hopes if she is pregnant, that it would be a little girl so it would be a mini version of reader.

They would spend the rest of the night thinking about it and wondering what life would be like. Joel would be in the middle of dinner, quietly eating, and suddenly suggest that he could make a crib from the birch tree in the backyard. They would go to bed and each of them would be reading and reader would break the silence and mention Maria and Tommy probably have stuff they don't need anymore and they could use. The next morning, reader would wake up with Joel's face nuzzled against the side of her neck with his big hand splayed wide over her belly.

And if it was just a scare, the idea would be planted in both their heads and after a few months, maybe they would be walking home together from the Tipsy Bison, hand in hand, content and happy until reader suddenly asks, 'Do you want to try for a baby?' And Joel, without missing a beat, would say, 'Absolutely,' and practically drag her down the street towards home so they could start that night.

[supercorpkid]

How You Get the Girl - Final

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader!, Kara Danvers, Barry Allen.

Word Count: 3335.

Part 1 / Part 2

Lena holds your face firmly, planting kisses all over it, making it impossible for you to move. Not that you would—there's nowhere else you'd rather be. You wouldn't move even if the room was on fire.

"I can't believe this is real." she whispers between kisses. Your cheeks flush, not because of her words, but the raw, desperate sincerity in her voice. It makes you feel like the most amazing person in the entire multiverse.

"Mhm, you know," you say, pausing between her soft pecks on your lips, "I love all this, but maybe we shouldn't be at CatCO anymore."

Lena pulls back slightly, her face betraying a flash of insecurity. Kissing someone that looks exactly like her employee at the workplace, one in a committed relationship even, clearly unsettles her.

"Okay, you're right." She slips into CEO mode so quickly it startles you. Pacing the room, she starts brainstorming. "Should I sell CatCO? Or find someone to run it for me and come back to this Earth on sporadically occasions? But what’s the point? Should we be worrying about which universe we're going to and—"

You get up from the couch, silencing her with a kiss. She's left breathless, lips shiny and red, staring at you as if you've taken all the words from her. "You were asking a lot of important questions, honey, but I was thinking of something else. I meant we should go to your place. I'm pretty sure there's a bed there, and we'd be much more comfortable."

"You know what? You do have good ideas!" She grins, and you can't help but mirror her smile. This smile. This one is new. Something your Earth's Lena never did.

"Look at that, I found a difference," you say, kissing the corner of her mouth. "That smile, I've never seen it before."

"I've never given it before."

You raise your eyebrows, surprised. "It's mine?"

"All yours." Lena says with such depth it knocks the air out of your lungs. And you realize she’s not just talking about the smile.

Lena looks at the ring on your finger, and you give her a nod. There's a lot to be scared of while facing this new reality you both wished into existence, but figuring out where to go next shouldn't be one of them. Yet, Lena's sweaty hands gripping yours tell you she didn't get the memo.

By now, you have traveled to so many Earths that they all look different and somewhat the same. It's hard to explain. The novelty of new worlds has started to wear off.

"Hey Barry!" 

"Y/N!" Barry exclaims, his voice filled with surprise. "And Lena?" His eyes drop to your intertwined hands. "Wait, which Earth are you guys from?"

"Earth-99," you say, pointing to yourself. He nods, recognizing you. Then you point to Lena. "Earth-242."

Barry's eyes widen, and he stays silent for a moment. You don't rush him, knowing he needs time to process. "Okay, wait a minute. Kara told you about the Earth I visited?" You nod. "So you went to a different Earth and found a Lena that loves you?" You nod again. After a pause, he adds, "Please don't tell me you're here because—"

"You guys could use my powers," you interrupt, raising your eyebrows suggestively. "And you could use her brains."

Barry looks like he wants to argue, but he can't. Not when he’s the guy who makes some of the most questionable decisions across many worlds. "I guess this is kind of my fault, isn't it?"

"One hundred percent started with you, yeah."

"Well—" He still seems like he wants to argue, but then something clicks. He realizes you and Lena could be valuable assets to the team. Soon, he smiles like a child. "Fine, you guys can stay. Welcome to Earth-1! Oh, and the S.T.A.R. Labs. The team will love having you here."

Lena looks around with a huge smile on her face. "Oh, I'm going to like this place."

You can't help but mirror her smile, seeing how excited she is. "If you're happy, I'm home."

Barry gestures for you both to follow him. "Let's go tell the others."

Earth-242 loses its Lena. She sells CatCo, donates some of her money, and invests the rest in her friends. Initially, they seem upset, but when they see her smiling at you, their anger softens. They want her to be happy, and she is happy. If they find it awkward that she is dating you, they don't mention it, and you’re grateful for that.

Assuming it would have been the same on your Earth, however, was a clear misjudgment of your friends' characters.

"So," Lena is helping you pack. She carefully folds your clothes while you toss them haphazardly into a box. "When are you going to tell your friends?"

"Well, I sent my resignation letter from CatCo a few minutes ago, which pretty much means Kara will be barging in through the window anytime now."

Lena comes closer, "And you're sure, right?" Her hands make way to your face and her touch is so good you lean into it without a second thought. "Darling?"

"Hm?" Lena has her eyebrows raised in question while waiting for your answer. "I've never been more sure about anything else in my life, ok?" You hold her waist and smile at her insecure expression. "You and I working in S.T.A.R labs sounds like a dream."

"There's no Kara in his universe." Lena makes sure you remember that. 

"Yeah I know." You kiss her forehead and smile. "We'll be fine, honey." She still looks uncertain. "Come on, Lena. I can live without Kara just fine."

"Oh really?" Kara barges in through the window that very second and you roll your eyes at the situation. Great, here she comes right on time. "You can live without me, huh?" 

You've never seen Kara this upset before, not while looking at you anyway. Perhaps at one super villain that got her really mad. But not you, never you.

"Kar," Your heart beats faster while you approach her. "I can explain. That was completely out of context." 

"Well then, please." Kara points at you, then glances at Lena behind you. "What is Lena doing here? I thought she was at headquarters."

"Right." You gesture for Lena to come closer. "Kara, this is Lena from Earth-242."

"Hi!" Lena smiles kindly. "I know this is confusing, you look exactly like the Kara from my universe too."

Kara's mouth opens and closes, unable to form a sentence.

"Well, Lena and I are together!" You smile brightly, throwing your arm around her. "And we're moving to Earth-1. Barry got us a job at S.T.A.R. labs and so we're packing my things."

One of Kara's eyes blinks, just one, while she tries to comprehend all that you're saying. She stumbles back into the bed, and lets herself fall into it with a murmured, "What?"

"I emailed in my resignation letter to Ms. Grant today, I was terrified to face her."

Kara clutches her chest. "What?"

"Darling," Lena calls your attention and you look at her. "Maybe go slower." She points to the door. "I'll be packing your kitchen stuff. You two can take your time."

Kara isn't listening to you. She fires off question after question, without giving you time to answer. So, you stay silent, watching her process everything.

"You're leaving? With a Lena? You're dating Lena? Oh my Gosh, you did love Lena. And I said it was crazy. But it is crazy. It's so crazy you're dating a different Lena from another universe and you're moving to Barry's universe? Is that even legal?" Kara reaches for her comm. "Emergency meeting in the headquarters, something insane is about to happen."

You sigh, looking at her, about to argue, but Kara points a firm finger at you. "Get your Lena there. Now."

"You know you're not my boss, right?" One hard look later, you call out, "Honey, we're going to the headquarters!"

You and Lena make it to the headquarters with Kara on your tow, so she is sure you two won't vanish into another universe (her words, not yours). The whole team is there already and Lena squeezes your hand a little stronger when she senses your anxiety.

"Hey," She whispers close to your ear. "They love you, they'll be happy that you're happy." You look at her, swallowing hard as she assures you with her eyes. "And if not –" She taps on your ring lightly.

"Is that…" Lena narrows her eyes at her counterpart waltzing in the headquarters hand-in-hand with you. "Me?"

"Hi everyone. This is Lena, from Earth-242." You decide to tell them all at once, so they can't argue. “She’s my girlfriend. We’re very happy, and we’re moving to Earth-1 together and working at S.T.A.R labs.” 

Kara points at you, “See! Something crazy!”

“It’s not crazy.” You huff annoyed, even though all of your friends are looking at you like you just grew a second head. “It’s love!”

Earth-99 Lena, it’s the first one to say, “well, this is awkward.”

“No, no. There’s nothing awkward about this.” But they are all looking at each other trying to understand how to best react to this. 

J'onn clears his throat. "Well, I wish you both good luck on your journey." He says getting opposite reactions from everyone else. He ignores them, and comes closer, shaking both yours and your girlfriend's hands. "I hope you two find happiness on Earth-1, and visit us anytime you have a chance." 

"What the fuck!" Alex exclaims from behind him.

"You'll be missed, Y/N, but I understand your decision." J'onn looks back at the others. "I'll patrol the city while you continue this conversation."

For a moment, the room is silent, but then Kara takes a deep breath, and everyone starts talking at once.

"You're crazy!" 

"This is insane!" 

"Are you shitting me?"

When they finally stop, they all look at each other, seemingly agreeing on a plan.

"Earth-242 Lena, can we talk to you?" Kara starts.

And at the same time, this Earth Lena looks at you, “Can we talk in private?” 

You agree with your head and follow her into a private room in the headquarters. Only Kara would be able to listen to your conversation, but you don’t think she is dying to know what’s happening inside this room when she is quizzing your girlfriend to death in another one. 

“So, you’re dating… me.”

You bite your tongue. How will you get yourself out of this one? “Well, you said that we’re all different people, remember?” 

She doesn’t, by the way she is looking at you completely lost. You’re not surprised she doesn't recall the moment when everything changed in your life, she was, as always, barely aware of your presence.

"I asked about it and you said there wouldn't be a paradox. We're different individuals."

"Well, yes, but she's still me somehow." She seems to be carefully choosing her words, but when she speaks again, you don't think she chose the right ones. "Isn't that the reason you're with her? I mean, you barely know her. What you know is because she reminds you of me."

"That's not true. You two are different."

She doesn't believe that, but for the sake of winning this argument she lets it slide. "Then how do you know that you're in love with her?"

"Sometimes there's no proof. Sometimes you just know."

She stares at you in disbelief and repeats, "Darling, she is me." 

"No, she isn't. And you wanna know why?" Lena raises her eyebrows, encouraging you to speak. "Because she loves me. Because, God, Lena, she can give me everything you never could. Love and smiles and—" You turn around, you can't look at her face while you say that. "We've been falling into beds together, and in each other's arms. Just loving each other so hard, I can't even remember what it's like to be a mess over someone who never gave a damn about me." You breathe out. "So, do I still need to tell you how she brought me back to life?"

She doesn't talk for what it feels like an eternity. You never once thought this was how you were going to confess your feelings for her. But now, it doesn't matter anymore. It might never have mattered in the first place.

You turn around slowly, Lena's eyes are filled with unshed tears. "Smiles?"

"What?" 

"She can give you smiles?" She repeats. You're sure you've said many, many words after that one, but 'smiles' is the word she decides to focus on. You nod slightly and Lena lets out an incredulous laughter. "Like I never smiled at you?"

"Different smiles."

"Different smiles, okay." Lena parrots, wiping her eyes even though no tears have fallen yet. "So, what? You jumped into different universes to find a version of me that would give you different smiles?"

"Shut up." You try to push past her, but she blocks you. "You don't get it. You'll never get it."

"Why?" Lena's voice is small, despite her standing tall in front of you, blocking your escape.

"Because!" You try to move past her, but she holds your wrists, pinning you against the wall.

"Because what? Say it!" Lena growls with such intensity, a hard gaze flickering between your mouth and your eyes.

"Because you wouldn't love me!" You yell.

Lena blinks at you. The splash of blue in her eye takes you off guard, you've never noticed it before. You knew that about your Lena, but you hadn't realized all of them had just a tiny bit of heterochromia. 

Then she finally blinks away a tear. You hold your breath to the small tear rolling down her cheek and time just stops between you. You both get so caught up in the moment, she lets go of your wrists, hands dropping to her sides. You swallow deep while raising your hand to her face. Your thumb brushes softly against her skin to clean a single tear she shed for you. 

You smile. "Different smiles, different tears." You explain. "I know you're confused, and I was confused too. For so long I was confused about this. But then I kissed her, and now I know."

"Well, maybe you need to be confused again." Lena pushes you further into the wall, no space for you to even breathe without having your body fully pressed against hers. 

You know what's coming next, and here's the thing, you could fight it but it doesn't even seem worth it. 

So when Lena kisses you, you think back of the many Lenas you've kissed in different universes. The sweet familiar pecks; The passionate disgraceful kisses; The 'you're mine' kisses; The 'I wish you were mine' ones; The many lips and tongues and hands; And then this one.

When she breaks the kiss for air, you have a dopey smile on your face and a light behind your eyes, you don't think it was there before.

Lena smiles too, satisfied with herself. And if you're being fair, you don't think you've ever seen this smile on her face. 

"Ok. So now that I have you confused again," She starts and you think she keeps talking, something about how to keep you on this Earth and get the other Lena back home or whatever. You're not even sure, you're not listening. Body buzzing so loud, you're shaking. 

"Sorry, I've got to —" You run to the door, since now she's given you enough space to do so. 

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Oh." You offer her a smile, the first one since this whole conversation started. You see, the other ones, they weren't for her. "I'm going home."

She looks puzzled, so you give her more information.

"You know, Lena, when you have perfect, 'almost' is never enough." You run back into the main space, you think Lena is right behind you but you're not sure, can't see her. You're not even aware if there's anyone in this place except for her. Your Lena, the Lena. 

She's caught by surprise when you hold her hand, but is quick to get up and ignore the last question fired at her by the three musketeers. "She's done explaining herself to you. We're going home."

"Wait —" Kara tries.

"No." You keep making your way out.

"Y/N, please." You think you hear Lena's voice, but it could've been Kara, or maybe even Alex, you don't care. But your escape is put to a halt, and you turn around with a frown on your face.

"No, you guys don't get it. And we don't have to explain ourselves. I love her. This one." You raise your intertwined fingers so they all can see it. "This Lena is the one for me. And you can accept that and be happy that I'm finally happy, or not. But what you can't do is try to mess up with this. Do you all get me? Me and my girlfriend are moving to Earth-1, we're starting a life together. Because she is the one I want. And no other Lena will ever do. No other person will ever do." 

You look back at her and see the smile. Different, unabashed, yours. Earth-99 Lena might have a thousand different smiles you've never seen, but you don't care about them. You like this one. This one is yours.

You look at her, doe-eyed. "You're with me?"

"I'll die." She whispers. "I'll die a sure death if I can't be with you."

Epilogue.

"Honey, do you know if Barry is bringing Iris?" You ask, going to the kitchen. Lena is organizing the many dips she bought so they look nice. She has her hair down in messy little waves, a large t-shirt and comfortable sweatpants. Barefoot on the kitchen floor, and not even an ounce of make up on her face. You smile at the perfect sight. "Why are you making all of that? It's just a game night with our friends."

"You know your friends from Earth-99 are coming too. And yes, Iris is coming too." She accepts the kiss you plant on her cheek with a bright smile. 

You peek inside one box. "You bought potstickers just for Kara, didn't you?"

"And the special beer Alex likes, and I snuck the new prototype out of the lab so I can show Winn." Lena says, sounding more excited to see your friends than you.

"That's why they love you a lot more than they love me." You joke and she chuckles, holding you from behind.

"I'm just happy they came around."

You turn around so you can face her, but her arms never leave your waist. You kiss her forehead and peck her lips.

"They would be crazy not to. You're the best Lena in the multiverse, even they can't deny that."

"How about Earth-17 Lena who helps every other Earth when they are in crisis? You know, the one responsible for this." She raises her eyebrows and you know what she means.

"No one's responsible for this, but us. If we hadn't kissed, we would never know." Your finger goes to her chin and you tilt it the slightest so you can kiss her better. And God, how is it possible that every kiss you share with her, feels the exact same as that first one. Explosive, urgent and in perfect harmony. "Just don't tell Barry that, or he might kick us out of S.T.A.R. labs."

"We're indispensable at the labs, darling."

"No. You are indispensable. I'm just the comic relief." You joke and Lena laughs as bright and easy as the sun. And shit, this Lena is so much better than any other Lena. Not only because she is yours, but like, damn, look at her. You're sure, you'd have died many deaths if it wasn't for her.

[goodolddumbbanana]

I don't think Dark Sun can predict New Moon would go insane. I think he only thinks that because of his obsession and his desperate, Dark Sun can use New Moon or do something to Moon. Because in Dark Sun's tone, he seems surprised to see how deranged New Moon is, and a little bit of annoyance, like he talks with a child. (And his voice is slowly softer and quieter, whenever he heard New Moon said he didn't give a crap.)

Like It is what he is planning to do, but still, he seems to me like he is disappointed with how New Moon's behaviour.

I have a theory that Dark Sun is kind of jealous of how New Moon loves Sun and wants to destroy Moon by making him a worse version of himself. Like he hates Moon in general so much, the idea of a Moon love a Sun makes him want to destroy it all.

And the best way to do that? Make your enemies do it themselves.

Dark Sun used to say, Moon and variant of Moon are so easy to read because he is usually so self destructive when he is desperate. What if Dark Sun does it, so he can see the despair in Moon's face, when he realises how he screwed everything up and no one wants to stay with Moon anymore?

What if it builds up, to lead to Moon killing Sun?

Because it seems like, the only person Moon still has a high light and soft spot on is Sun.

Earth, he wouldn't care less. Monty, he looks at their face and laughs. But Sun, still, he talks about him with a soft tone, like in Moon's eyes, Sun still the person who is always caring and like he said, never that condescending.

Bet one of the reasons he wants to be a brother with Dark Sun because Sun still has a strong place in his heart, whatever he said. (Sidenote, maybe he thinks he can use Dark Sun? Equal to every Sun is the same?)

(I really hope it doesn't go in the route when Dark Sun and New Moon become brothers, because it would be heartbreakingly broken for Sun. I want Dark Sun to only use Moon and have no attachment with him. 🥺 🥺)

And that is the reason why Dark Sun picked Moon. Dark Sun can choose whatever Moon, but he pays specifically attention for this New Moon. Because he sees the brotherhood of them, and he hates it, he hates to see a Moon happy, and Sun who doesn't hate Moon.

He not only wants Moon to be deranged such as he means to be, but a Sun just like him.

Has anyone noticed that Dark Sun and Sun shared similar tones now, both seem very soft spoken and tired?

So when the time comes, when New Moon kills Sun, or Sun kills New Moons, Dark Sun would sit in the front seat to see the drama happens.

[part-time-zombie]

Favorite Child

pairings: prinxiety

summary: roman starts getting the feeling that the other sides don't value his ideas anymore, and when he sees them favoring remus over him he fears the worst and assumes he's been replaced.

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, angst with a happy ending, abandonment issues, patton logan and janus are kind of unsympathetic in this one, remus is just happy to be here lol

word count: 5668

Roman loved his brother. Really, he did. Even though they didn’t really have anything in common and Remus always found a way to make trouble and usually hurt him in the process, he still cared about him because deep down, they were family.

It didn’t mean he had to be happy about Remus replacing him.

Ever since Patton had realized how strict had was being on Thomas, he had worked on unlearning some of his more hurtful ideals, starting with the idea of some sides being “bad”. Janus and Remus were showing up a lot more lately, and while it wasn’t exactly easy to get along with them most of the time, Roman tried to at least be civil. That’s what Patton wanted, and if Roman cooperated then maybe things would work out.

At least that’s what he told himself.

He knew the damage was already done, though. He was rude to Virgil and a bully to Logan even after everyone told him to stop. He trusted Janus when everyone told him not to and shunned him once everyone decided he was reliable. No matter what he did or what he said, it always seemed to be the wrong thing.

He still tried, though. Every day he worked harder to be better, to do more, both for Thomas and for the other sides. Sometimes the others noticed, but most of the time they didn’t. Lately it was almost like whatever he did would only make things worse instead.

At least he could still live up to his function, though. He was pride and passion and above all, creativity. Thomas would still need him for videos, if nothing else. He just had to prove it with a show-stopping idea for this next project and they’d appreciate him again.

After several sleepless nights of brainstorming and revision, Roman had come up with a perfect video idea, one that was bound to restore his usefulness and his importance to the group. It was inventive, entertaining, and best of all original enough to garner plenty of praise, both from the sides and from the viewers that would no doubt love the video. He had been up all night and was desperate for some proper sleep, but that could wait. He was ready to share this with them first. He’d show them the work he’s done, and they’d be so impressed by what he had accomplished that they’d likely congratulate his work for the rest of the week. An armful of papers in hand, Roman descended the stairs with a triumphant smile on his face, ready to share his plans with the others.

Only to see Patton too busy making breakfast with Remus to even look at him.

Remus at least noticed him, waving him over to the kitchen with an eager grin. Patton finally glanced up in response and gave Roman a cheery smile.

“Hey there, kiddo! You’re up early today.”

Technically he was up late, seeing as he hadn’t slept yet, but he wasn’t about to point that out. He strolled over to them, letting his enthusiasm for his work take over.

“Yes, well, I was just too excited to share this new video idea with everyone,” he explained, gesturing to the stack of notes in his hands. “I think it’s some of my finest work.”

"Sounds neat, I’m sure Logan will be happy to read it after breakfast,” Patton replied.

“Speaking of, what will we be having this morning anyway?”

Remus gave him a devilish smile from where he stood by the stove. “The unborn.”

Pattons smile faltered for a moment, as did Romans appetite.

“He means eggs,” he explained with a slightly forced chuckle before brightening again. “Scrambled, in this case. Hey, did you know he’s actually a pretty good cook?”

There were many things Roman knew Remus as. Violent, demented, mischievous, gross and even a little scary sometimes. A cook, let alone a good one? Absolutely not.

“I thought he was only really capable of burning water,” Roman joked.

Remus gave him a look over Pattons shoulder.

“He’s honestly been pretty helpful in the kitchen this morning,” Patton began. “Turns out he knows a lot about what tastes bad or what’s unsafe to make. It’s been pretty eye opening for me. Plus, we’ve just been having a blast hanging out together. He beats me to the punchline with almost every joke I’ve told him!”

Roman felt something stirring around in his insides. Patton actually liked hanging out with Remus? More than him? It couldn’t be right, something had to be going on.

Remus whispered something to Patton, who reacted with barely contained laughter.

"What’s so funny?”

"Oh, it’s nothing, you wouldn’t really get it.” Patton replied, still chuckling.

Were they making inside jokes now? Ones that looked to be at his expense no less?

Logan came downstairs before Roman could interrogate further, silently walking past him and preparing himself a pot of coffee without even raising an eyebrow at the sight of Remus and Patton teaming up over an open stove. Almost like this was normal to him.

Patton finished the last of the eggs as he started a conversation with Logan, neither of them even looking over at Roman.

“See? Patton likes my food,” Remus said, leaning over the counter with a victorious grin on his face. “And at least I’m laughing at his puns, unlike some folks around here. One would almost say we’re becoming friends now.”

That’s not exactly the word Roman would use. “What is your scheme here, exactly?”

Remus dropped his smile in an instant. “No scheme, just two buds having a grand old time together. You got a problem with that?”

"What’s he got a problem with now?” Janus groaned, lazily slinking his way into the kitchen and joining Logan in line for coffee.

“Whatever it is, I want no part in it,” Logan answered, not looking up from the pot.

Remus barked out a laugh at that before returning to Pattons side, dutifully helping him in setting up the table. In all honesty, the food looked decent. Well, it looked that way. Who knows how it would taste, or what Remus would have put in it even with Pattons supervision. The others didn’t seem to notice or care, already commenting on the pleasant smell and taking their seats, with Remus smiling as he joined them.

“Aren’t you gonna join us, kiddo?” Patton asked, already digging into his eggs.

“And risk food poisoning from Remus’ cooking? I don’t think so,” he replied. How could everyone else be so nonchalant about this? Remus could have done something to the food or tampered with it in some other way. Why did no one seem to really care, or even mind that he was sitting there with them at all? Had they all accepted him already?

“There’s no need to be rude,” Logan scolded. “It’s not like we can get sick, anyway.”

“How about injured,” Roman corrected. “Need I remind you of the countless injuries he’s given me over the years?”

"Oh right, thanks for reminding me,” Janus snarked. “It’s not like I don’t smile to myself at the memories every day.”

Logan snickered in response, feebly hiding it behind another bite of food. What’s so funny about his misfortune? Surely Logan doesn’t hate him that badly, right?

"Now, Janus, be nice,” Patton scolded. Well, scolded was a rather severe word for verbally slapping him on the wrist with a feather. Janus only rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, do you want to take a seat regardless, Roman? Or would you rather continue to lurk there while the rest of us eat?” Logan asked.

Right. Roman had been standing there by the counter for a while now, still holding his gaggle of notes no less. Well, no better time than the present, he supposed.

“Actually, I was hoping you’d look this over real quick, if you don’t mind,” he started, moving to stand beside Logan. He set the stack of notes on the table with a resounding thud, beaming with pride at the level of work he had put into his idea.

No one else seemed to share his enthusiasm. Janus looked at the pages in disgust, while Patton and Remus strained to reach for more food over the mountain of paper. Logan looked like he wished he was drinking wine instead of coffee.

“I’ve put a lot of work behind it, I think it’ll be one of my best ideas yet,” he added, trying his best to win the others over.

“Roman, as much as I appreciate your commitment to this project, I don’t think you need to worry about it that much,” Logan offered. “In all honesty, these notes look like a mess, and it’ll take us all far too long to make any sense of them.”

Roman felt like he had been punched in the chest. He didn’t like it? How could he not like it, he hadn’t even tried to read it yet. “But I… it’s not… I spent a lot of time on it, you couldn’t at least just look at it?”

“Why don’t you try to get all of this organized first, and then I’ll see what I think about it later.” Logan gave him an almost sympathetic look, one only made ironic considering how coldly he had turned Roman down. “You should join us for some breakfast first, though. I’d rather you work on a full stomach then let you go the whole day without eating.”

Roman could only shake his head before recollecting his notes, his heart pounding in his ears. “It’s okay, I need to get this worked out. Don’t worry about it.”

He passed Virgil by the stairs, hardly registering the odd look he gave him. He ought to warn Virgil about who made the food, but by the time the thought had come to him, he had already fully made it back up the stairs. He only hoped it didn’t make Virgil too sick. Then again, everyone else seemed to like it. In fact, they were all almost happier around Remus than Roman. Had he done something wrong? Were they just messing with him? That had to be it. Why else would Patton choose to spend that much time around Remus.

It’s not like they all liked him better, right?

Noon came and went before Roman returned downstairs. He had spent the last several hours revising and significantly downsizing his paperwork, securing what was left in a single three ring binder with organized notes and an easy-to-read format. Surely this would satisfy Logans standards, even if most of the passion he had built it on had been taken out in the name of structure and peer approval.

Plastering a confident grin on his face that only mostly masked the blows to his ego he had endured earlier, Roman made his way to the living room once more to talk shop.

Logan was chatting with Janus over a bottle of wine and some paperwork, too preoccupied to notice him. Roman loudly cleared his throat, forcing them to bring their chat to a halt as they looked at him with matching scowls.

"Must you?” Logan groaned.

“But it’s important.”

“How can it be important when it’s coming from you?” Janus muttered, much to Logans amusement. Roman tried to ignore him.

"I just wanted to let you know that I finished revising my work from earlier, and if you’re ready to talk it over with me I’d love to work on next steps.”

Logan blinked, a neutral expression on his face. “Ah. What might those next steps be, since you’re so prepared for this?”

Roman felt his smile start to slip. He can’t already be losing the battle. “Well, we could get a schedule mapped out or at least get everyone else’s approval on this next video. If things go smoothly, we could have this out before the end of the week!”

Logan nodded, lost in thought. “I see. The thing is, Roman, we had already talked about video ideas while you were absent.”

Roman painfully tightened his grip on the binder. “You did? When? With who?”

"Over breakfast. Remus gave us some interesting ideas and I think we plan on going with his for this next video. If you had decided to stick around instead of leaving, you could have been a part of the discussion and added your own points.”

“I must say, it was a relief not to have you there, though,” Janus added.

Roman couldn’t believe this. Logan had told him to tidy up his notes before he would look at them, and now it’s his fault he wasn’t there when they all decided to talk about work without him? How was that fair? How was any of this fair at all?

“And everyone’s in favor of his idea?”

“It’s in need of some work, and we’ll have to plan out the finer details, but I do think it’ll be a successful video. At the very least, it’ll be something new to try out.” Logan added.

Something new. That’s what they were looking for? An original idea? Roman had dedicated his time to nothing else, and they don’t even want it from him?

“But what about my idea?”

“I’m sure it’s good, but- “

“You can’t say that when you haven’t even looked at it,” he snapped. “You said you’d read it, but you jumped on Remus’ idea without hesitating. I worked so hard on this, and you want nothing to do with it. What’s so special about his ideas that make them better?”

“Roman, please,” Logan said, fixing him a stern glare. “Remus is just as much a part of Thomas’ creativity as you are. It would be foolish to not include him in discussions about ideas. We can’t only rely on you for everything Thomas comes up with, now, can we?”

Janus failed to hide his smirk behind his wine glass, and Roman almost went over to him and gave him another bitch slap. Almost.

“I’ll look at your ideas later Roman, alright? Let me just figure out the logistics of Remus’ first.” Logan said with a sigh, already returning his attention to his notebook.

Janus gave him a knowing look. Liar.

Roman threw the binder on the coffee table with a huff before storming back upstairs, not even bothering to hide his annoyance. So what if Logan liked Remus’ idea better? It didn’t have to mean anything. It was a fluke, a one-time incident. This wasn’t going to be a new norm. It just wasn’t. Roman hadn’t failed yet, he can’t afford to.

It was late into the evening by the time Roman felt like he could leave his room again. Dinner already came and went, but he hadn’t bothered to join them. Odds are Remus had a hand (or tentacle) in preparing it just like he did breakfast. While the thought made his stomach turn, he was still hungry, and hopefully there would still be something salvageable for him to scavenge from the fridge for a late snack.

Roman descended the stairs quietly, no longer caring to put up anymore false bravado after the day he’s had. His lack of a boisterous entrance meant the two sides still in the living room had yet to notice him. Then again, it seemed Virgil and Remus were far too engrossed in their video game to notice anything right now, both of them staring determinedly at the screen as they sat cross-legged on the floor, controllers clenched tightly in intense death grips from the both of them.

Curious, Roman took a moment to watch what they were playing. It seemed to be some intense horror game, and despite the frightening monster they were trying to outrun, they both looked thrilled by the experience.

Virgil finally saw Roman standing rather awkwardly by the stairs and jumped in surprise. The screen flashed red with a banner of defeat as the character he was playing died, and Remus let out a riotous laugh at the whole ordeal.

“Geez, Roman, way to give a guy a heart attack,” Virgil chided, one hand clutching his chest. “And thanks for making me die, I was just about to beat that round!”

“No you weren’t, you’ve been eating shit for like an hour now,” Remus teased.

“Yeah, well I don’t see you getting any farther in this game yourself.”

Roman watched as they exchanged this bout of banter. Virgil was… having fun with Remus? Last he remembered, they didn’t exactly get along very well, didn’t they?

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Roman started, still catching himself up to speed. “It looks like you’re having fun at least. Would I be able to join the next one?”

Virgil averted his eyes for a moment, almost looking guilty. “I mean, maybe, but I don’t think you’d like it, and Remus and I were planning on playing until we at least managed to beat this stage. We could do something later though, if you want.”

Right, later. Logan said he’d come back to him later too, and he never did.

"That’s alright, I’m sure you’d rather get back to your game. I’ll just grab myself something to eat and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

"Right, speaking of, what’s with you skipping meals all of a sudden? Too good to eat with us now?” Virgil asked, an inquisitive spark in his eye.

"No, I just didn’t feel like eating what had been made today.”

"Yeah, but you like eggs last I checked, and you weren’t here at all for dinner. How could you know you wouldn’t want it if you didn’t even show up?”

Roman tried not to let himself sound too defensive. “Well, can you blame me? I have no idea what passes for cooking in Remus’ book!”

"Hey now, All-Star,” Remus said, a hurt look on his face. “I’ve behaved myself all day, and everyone else helped with the food too! I didn’t do anything that was too ‘me’ believe it or not, and I even helped out with the next video!”

Roman felt his insides turn to ice. “You what?”

Remus’ face lit up with glee. “You’re goddamn right!” he said with a wide smile. “I came up with a few ideas earlier and Logan said he’d use them in the next video! I get to help with the creative process now, isn’t that awesome?”

Logan still picked Remus’ idea over his? He’d worked so hard on his plans, organizing and reworking so it would be worth Logans time, and he didn’t even like it?

His eyes fell over to the coffee table, where his precious binder sat untouched and forgotten, a now cooling cup of tea resting atop it as if it were nothing more than a coaster. Of course Logan didn’t like it. He didn’t even read it.

So just like that he was rejected? Removed? All it took was one day for everyone to move on from him and favor the rest of creativity instead?

Remus’ voice cut through his thoughts. “You don’t have to look like the world is ending, bro. I’m finally being included in stuff, you oughta be happy for me at least a little!”

Roman blinked, coming back to himself a little. Virgil and Remus were staring back at him from their spots on the floor, the former looking slightly more concerned than the latter, who was currently rocking back and forth in excitement.

“I am happy for you,” he said, desperately trying to bury the tremble in his voice behind a smile that Remus seemed to appreciate. “This is big for you, and you deserve to celebrate it. I hope the video turns out well, do let me know when it gets posted.”

Roman headed back to his room before the situation could sour any further, all hunger and hope long forgotten. It was over. He had officially been replaced.

Roman shut the door behind himself before collapsing into his bed, too numb to hold himself upright. He knew he was being childish, and that all he was really doing was throwing a tantrum for no real reason, but he couldn’t help it. All his life he’s been valued, if not for his personality than at least for his function. He was a major part of Thomas’ life, acting as passion, pride, and creativity all at once. Even if he wasn’t a fan favorite anymore, he was still important enough to garner some level of appreciation. Maybe not now.

He was no idiot. He knew what the other sides thought of him. He was dramatic and obnoxious and self-centered; anyone could see it. A part of him had hoped they at least respected his role enough to forgive him for his mistakes, ones he’s worked on fixing. He thought that maybe he’d still have a part to play, that he’d be useful if not loved.

Guess he was wrong.

The second there was another source of creativity, they all jumped at the chance to choose it over Roman. All it took was one day, one off day for him, and he had already been completely replaced by his brother. At least the others were efficient.

He should congratulate Remus, really. After so long in the shadows, he finally got a chance to be listened to and involved in things, and Roman knows how much he wanted that. In truth, he was very happy for him, and will probably plan something to celebrate his acceptance and inclusion into the group; after all, he’s no spoilsport.

Then again, would anyone even want that from him? If he did plan a party, one dedicated solely to welcoming this new shift in dynamics, would it be something they’d even consider worthwhile? It wouldn’t have been about himself at all, so that would have to count for something. As Roman thought about it though, it probably wouldn’t count for very much. His ideas were overlooked without a second glance, even when they were only about work. What makes him think that something done for fun would earn any respect?

Remus took his place and he can’t even show the others he’s fine with it.

He should have seen this coming, honestly. With how much Patton was willing to welcome the dark sides into the family and the litany of mistakes Roman had made lately, most of which were directly to the detriment of the others, it would only make sense that everyone would want to get rid of him as soon as they had the chance. He wasn’t doing anyone any good anyway. Not even Thomas. Maybe it would be for everyone’s benefit if he just stopped butting in on things, if he let Remus take his seat at the table. Everyone seems to like him far more nowadays; they’d probably appreciate him being the new creativity.

It doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt Roman to think about.

No more late-night brainstorming sessions with Logan, no more baking with Patton, no more video games with Virgil. They didn’t want him hanging around, and as much as it hurt, he still loved them all enough to respect their wishes. If they didn’t want him rigging the votes at movie nights, or even showing up to them at all, then who was he to argue?

He had it coming, really. He took them all for granted, and it’s only fair he reaps what he sowed. He only hoped Remus would be kinder to them than he was.

Roman didn’t know when he had dozed off, but the last thing he expected to wake up to was the sound of someone knocking at his door.

“Princey? You up?”

Roman didn’t know how to respond. Sure, he was awake, but he didn’t really want to be. Not if Virgil was coming in to remind him of his new place outside of the family.

The door opened slowly as Virgil peeked his head into the room, eyes finding his own in an instant. Roman sighed before turning on his side, his back to the door and to Virgil. He didn’t want to deal with this, not right now.

“You doing alright?”

How the hell was he supposed to reply to that one? Firstly, it ought to be obvious just by seeing him that he was more miserable and pathetic than a kicked puppy, and secondly, it would be nothing but selfish and rude for him to bitch and moan about how much it sucks that he’s not the favorite child anymore.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Hell no. If he started talking about this right now, he’d never stop. Not until he said the wrong thing and sealed his fate and guaranteed that no one would want anything to do with him for the rest of his life. As if that’s not already the case.

He heard Virgil let out a sigh, followed by the soft click of the door closing again, and Roman felt an unpleasant mix of relief and regret. Sure, he ought to be alone, but being lonely and knowing that this would be his fate forever? Anyone would want to hold onto a rare chance of company. He wouldn’t want to do that to Virgil, though. He wasn’t about to force him to stay if he doesn’t want to. Still, a part of himself ached knowing that this would likely be his last interaction with someone, and he didn’t even say a word or look at-

The bed dipped as Virgil sat down next to him, not quite touching but close enough for Roman to feel his presence. Close enough for him to tell that he wasn’t dreaming yet.

"If you want me to go I can, but something tells me you probably shouldn’t be alone like this,” he said, his voice a soothing melody for Roman to hold onto.

“Look, I didn’t mean to just brush you off like that earlier, okay? Remus really wanted to play that game with me, and I guess I got a little too wrapped into it and- “

“I’m not mad,” Roman interrupted, surprising himself with how watery and choked his voice sounded. God, he needed to get a grip. “You were having fun.”

"... okay, but even if you aren’t mad, you’re definitely upset. I get it if you don’t wanna talk about it, but you shouldn’t be suffering like this in your room all day either. I’m not the best at this sorta thing, but I can get Patton if you want.”

“No.”

Honestly, the last thing Roman wanted was for anyone else to see him like this, especially if that someone was Patton. He wanted to help Remus get accepted, he didn’t need to deal with Roman throwing a hissy fit over it.

Virgil was quiet for a moment, and Roman could only imagine the look on his face as he tried to think of what to do or say next.

“… is it about him?” he eventually asked.

Roman shook his head no, as best as he could when half his face was pressed against a pillow. It really wasn’t about Patton or Logan or even Remus. Roman just needed to grow up and get over it. This was his fault, and ultimately his problem to deal with.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He hoped Virgil didn’t notice. He wouldn’t be able to handle it if he did. “It’s stupid.”

“Not if it’s got you this bent out of shape,” Virgil replied. “If it’s about the whole video thing, I’m sure your idea was a good one. Logan’s bound to use it for the next one.”

No he wasn’t. Not when Romans project was already collecting dust in the living room and repurposed into a paperweight. Not when Remus had already replaced him. Roman screwed his eyes shut with a sob as the tears finally started to fall. How pathetic could he possibly get? Crying like a baby all because he couldn’t get his way. Maybe Janus was right about him. Maybe he was an unheroic evil twin after all.

“Oh, shit I didn’t mean to- I uh… look, don’t cry, okay?” Virgil stammered. “Shit, I’m really not good at this, uh… can I just start over here?”

Roman could hardly form words past the sobs that threatened to escape with every breath. Some prince he was, not even capable of comforting someone who was trying to comfort him first. Not like he deserved that kind of care in the first place.

“It’s… it’s fine” he blubbered, too embarrassed to look at Virgil. “He had the better idea, and everyone likes him more, and it’s not a problem, really. He’s better than me, he’s earned this. I get it. I’m not angry, I’m not.”

Virgil paused for a moment in surprise. “Wait, are you talking about Remus?”

“It’s okay, really. Logan likes his ideas better, and you two like the same things… I’m just overreacting. He’s creativity, too. He can do my job, probably better. It’s fine.”

Another pause. “… oh, buddy. You can’t really think… Roman, we’re not replacing you or anything. That’s not what’s going on here.”

Roman felt the bed shift next to him, and for a heart-stopping moment he was worried Virgil was leaving. Instead, he felt a cool but comforting hand on his shoulder, stroking gently before giving him a light squeeze.

“Roman, he’s not replacing you, okay? No one wants to do that to you, and even if they did, I’d never let that happen, you hear me? We all still want you around.”

The tears were flowing even harder now, and try as he might, Roman couldn’t get them to stop. Why was Virgil saying this? It was obvious that the others didn’t like him, he had been aware of it for a while now. Of course they’d want to be rid of him.

“Hey, don’t be upset, okay? Please, I really don’t know how to do this right. Uh, look, Patton still cares about you, and Logan needs you even if he acts like he doesn’t. They aren’t getting rid of you anytime soon, alright? I promise. I’m not letting you duck out that easy. Especially not now that we’re both friends.”

That made Roman finally look at him. Virgil was looking down at him with a soft but worried expression, his own eyes misting over.

“We’re friends?” he asked between sobs.

Virgil blinked rapidly; his face flushed. “I mean, I hope so. Is that okay?”

"But I was so mean to you, and I know Remus likes the same stuff you do and… “

"He’s also gross and goes out of his way to make me uncomfortable,” Virgil replied, a trace of snark returning to his voice. “Besides, we were both assholes before, but I like hanging out with you, and I’m not letting anyone dethrone your ass.”

Roman laughed despite himself, wiping away a few stray tears before sitting back up next to Virgil. “Just because you’ve looked past it doesn’t mean everyone else has. I know I messed up. I’m still messing up, no matter how hard I try to get things right. They have every reason to like Remus more. I’m happy for him getting to be the one coming up with videos now. I’m sure he’ll do a much better job at it than me anyway.”

Virgil gave him that same soft look from earlier before taking Romans hand in his own, gently running his thumb over the skin in a calming pattern.

“This isn’t forever,” he whispered. “You always come up with the best ideas, and you’ll still be a part of the process no matter what. You’re also allowed to get pissed off about this if you want to be. It sucks, you can let it suck.”

“I’m not mad at anyone, just… “

“Disappointed?”

Roman nodded, feeling the lump in his throat returning. “In myself, I suppose.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t be this worked up over it. They’re allowed to like his ideas more than mine, and he’s allowed to be a part of things too. I don’t hate him for that.”

“Well, yeah, but if you work really hard on something only to get the cold shoulder out of nowhere, it’s only fair to get upset about it.”

A fresh batch of tears started welling up, and this time Roman was less pressed to wipe them away. A quiet whimper escaped as the tears started to fall, and Virgil brought a hand up to delicately cup his face, his thumb smoothing the tears away with more care and kindness than Roman had ever seen from him, and he found himself leaning into the touch.

"Keep that up and you’ll get me crying next,” he teased, though Roman could still spot the telltale shine of unshed tears all the same. “Seriously though, you’re okay. You are not getting replaced; not now, not ever. We all still love you. I know I do.”

Roman couldn’t tell if he sobbed or gasped, but he didn’t care to focus on that. If what Virgil said was true, and the furious blush in his cheeks suggested it was, then Roman would have to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming all over again. Virgil was actually confessing to having feelings for him, that he liked him back, and Roman wasn’t about to let anything else distract from it.

“I love you too,” he whispered, watching as Virgils face filled with hope and surprised disbelief as his words sank in. “And thank you. I think I needed to hear that.”

"I think so too,” Virgil replied, a glint of mirth twinkling in his eyes. “Do you want in on the next game when you’re feeling better? Remus bet he could survive longer than you.”

Roman smiled, the first authentic one he made all day. “I thought you’d never ask.”

@lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie @nico-the-overlord @rougeside4 @britt-ish123 @keitaisghost @new-zee-land @can-i-take-a-stab @yuckpuppie

[cowboylikeghost]

I've been away from social media for a while now (i've only started being active again a few days ago) because I wanted space to think about myself and labels and who I wanted to be in general.

During this time i noticed that i have been switching labels since i was 12, trying really hard to choose between bisexual and lesbian or if i even felt attraction at all. It's all been very confusing for me, and i know most of you won't care, but i'm writing this for people who might find themself in the same position as me. I'm not saying i have resolved everything, i'm far from that, but i have moved forward a little bit.

All of this to say that i realised labels don't matter. And i know it's hard, when new sexualites pop up everyday on social media. People try so hard to give a name to every little feelings they have, that it become confusing for us. But let me tell you some things: all those rules are made up. You don't have to label yourself as bi, pan or even omni just because your feelings fit a specific word. You don't have to label yourself as aromantic just because you don't feel romantic attraction. You.don't.have.to.

I've decided to not use any label anymore, because i don't really care who i do or don't end up with. If I found myself married to a man or single at 60 and dating a girl at 80. I'm unlabeled, no labels, just vibes.

I know and i'm happy that labels can help some people, and i'm aware of the history that came from them. I know that the LGBTQ+ community is responsible for the acquisition of our rights, and i'm forever grateful. I am in some way appart of that community, that i want it or not, and it's because of them that now, we have the possible to just be who we are without having to put a specific word on it.

Over the year I have identify as bisexuel, biromantic, lesbian, asexual, aromantic, aroace and aroace lesbian. I had the chance to be appart of all those communities and i am forever changed because of them, they helped me grow and understand the world better.

No labels.

[breakingstanding]

did you read Eloise’s crying at the wedding as happy tears? I see most of the fandom praising her for when she was fighting with Penelope, hating the concept of marriage but still crying tears for her friend… but I thought the conversation with Benedict had the implication that she was upset at the wedding. What are your thoughts?

Yeah I definitely think she had very mixed feelings about the wedding. I think there was certainly some happiness to the tears, she definitely loves Colin and Penelope and genuinely wants them to be happy. That said, anyone who couldn't see that she was struggling with an intense sadness probably wasn't paying attention.

I would say there are two main ways to interpret her mixed feelings at the wedding:

a) She is watching more loved ones leave her for futures that will be less interconnected with her own, while she languishes in her childhood home with no clear path ahead of her. Even though they'll still be in her life it will never be the same as it was. She won't live with her brother anymore, where her and Pen used to be their own duo now Pen will always be in a partnership with Colin first and foremost. They'll go off and have kids and a life together and Eloise will be left alone.

b) She is in love with Pen. I don't think she is consciously aware of this, or even has a frame of reference to know that women being in love with each other is an option, but I think she never really considered a future where her and Pen weren't spinsters together. She was already heartbroken because of the Whistledown fight, but I think she probably still thought that things would resolve themselves and her and Pen would go back to how they used to be. The wedding is the last nail in the coffin of the future she was planning for them together, and I think she is probably filled with some deeply confusing grief because of this.

I tend to think it was a bit of both. Frankly every single interaction Eloise has ever had with Penelope makes more sense through the lens that she is in love with her.

I also think that Eloise is generally filled with a deep sadness from living in a society where the only path given to women is one that fills her with dread, and no one in her life seems to understand or try to empathise with her about this at all.

No wonder she was crying, I wanna cry just thinking about it!

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[theangrypomeranian]

I just want my passion back man idk why that's so much to ask for

[guiltreservoir]

 as long as there is an ocean ✧ read on ao3

the abyssal plains of tommy's subconscious are littered with the carcasses of his father's favorite adages.

no matter how valiant his attempts have been to pry them free — and despite the meticulous, delicate nature of his methods — it seems that many of the sea-skeletons have been left sitting beyond salvation, now inextricable from waterlogged sediment. they're too far-sunk to extract safely; if lucky enough not to crumple like a sheet of discarded tissue paper on the journey down, he'd explode his lungs to red mist on the way back up to the surface. it's almost easier if he imagines them this way, as broken fragments of corpses too fragile to exhume:

the fleshy tissue of a half-eaten squid — actions speak louder than words. the crushed shell of an unfortunate lobster — beggars can't be choosers. the rotting remains of a clever eel — boys who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. the ribcage and spine of a starved shark — do as i say, not as i do.

one saying in particular has been mummifying for longer than the others, a giant humpback frozen in a state of watery decay, embalmed in the sandy gunk of his darkest trenches — keep your shoulders straight and your head on straighter. oft punctuated with a caustic, kid.

it's pretty ironic, considering the fact that tommy kinard has nary a straight bone in his body. maybe that's why the line burrowed itself so thoroughly into the deepest, slimiest crooks of the substrate of his mind, slow-growing algae coating the slippery crevices of his hippocampus to rankle him perpetually. tommy hasn't spoken directly with his old man in years; these days he couldn't if he wanted to, or at least not without a ouija board and an uncharacteristic flair for masochism, neither of which he cares to equip himself with.

nevertheless, the phantom whale fall of his father's most-reliable phrase continues to nourish the last hungry, lonely fish left scouring the ocean floor of tommy's mind. nearly every move he makes is centered around practicality, every decision sewn together by threads of vigilance and observation.

with nearly four decades of practice and application under his belt, he's gotten good at keeping his shoulders straight, and gay as he may be, he thinks his head's on just fine, although such would be a contradictory and controversial statement upon the ears of one thomas kinard, senior. thankfully he'll never have to hear it.

tommy can live with his own amendment to the man's words because tommy knows himself and therefore knows the truth. his posture is excellent and he's a considerably level-headed guy. he can't be straight; he doesn't want to be. what he can be is pragmatic. he can be logical, he can be useful, he can be rational. he can be quite capable and, as it turns out, even likable. he can be funny, and charming, and vulnerable with the right people. he can be queer, he can be gay, he can be loved, he can love. he can become without becoming unmoored.

for thirty-some good years, tommy kinard does a bang-up job at keeps his shoulders straight and his head on just fine. he's pushing forty when he meets evan buckley and eddie diaz.

───────────────

evan buckley and eddie diaz exist as a singular entity within the confines of tommy's skull. two sides of the same coin, grumbles the detached jaw of an imaginary anglerfish.

it takes some effort to extract one from the other, but tommy finds ways. over mutual interests in muay thai, basketball, and helicopters, he and eddie become fast friends. over mutual interests in each other's inquisitive minds, curious hands, and wanting mouths, he and evan become even faster lovers.

he makes out with one of them, roughhouses with the other; it all feels the same, gets identical synapses firing. he knocks eddie to the mat, steals spit-flecked exhales off of the inches of air near his wild-grinning lips and brings them home for buck to drink down, licking them into his ravenous mouth, delivering him secrets to unwittingly swallow. he smelts himself down to the base and seeps in between them, liquid copper in the nickel sandwich of their clad coin.

it isn't until tommy's got both of them sprawled out on his couch one night, months into his increasingly complex relationships with each of them, that he truly starts to grasp how evan and eddie might exist as a singular entity outside of his skull, too.

top gun's ending credits march, sans serif ants, to the glowing edge of tommy's television screen. fuzzy, synthetic white-blue haze pours into the room and across the skin of buck and eddie's limbs and faces in a manner that makes tommy think of marble hewn painstakingly into handsome statue, of rock tumbled smooth by a patient, perpetual stream, ever-flowing towards the sea.

tommy thinks, i could be a sculptor. i could be a river.

copper in the nickel.

the two men are draped across his sectional like lions in the sun, impenitent and unabashed in the way they take up space, in the way they take up each other. buck's legs are long, stretched out along multiple cushions, his head heavy on tommy's lap. eddie, on the opposite end of the couch from tommy, started out the evening upright, but the drone of the movie — combined with tommy's easy laughter and the literal and figurative warmth pouring off of buck — had helped to coax a more relaxed posture out of him. now he slouches deep into the pillows, legs spread wide to knock up against buck's bare feet where his sweatshorts ride up his quads. tommy almost expects the point of contact between the pair of them to spark, start a blaze that would surely incinerate the three of them in spite of their résumés.

his heart's been a tinderbox for long enough that he can usually recognize flint even when it's disguised as water; the thirst that parches him convinces him it's worth attempting a sip without regard of probable risk.

he lets out a long exhale and drops a hand to card through evan's hair, half-listens to eddie babble on about how the shots of the F14 fighter jets are still so cool all these years later. he's beaming like a kid the whole time, sunshine-ray of a smile gleaming straight at buck.

tommy watches as buck can't help but smile right back, and god, if the energy radiating off of them could be harnessed for physical usage, tommy would never have a utility bill again in his life. he watches, enraptured, as buck flexes and curls his toes against the soft dark hairs of eddie's thigh, pressing dents into his skin. watches as eddie presses back.

eddie falters in his warplane musings when buck's foot skids over and catches in the edge of his shorts.

buck says, "sorry," not convincingly.

eddie clears his throat and drags his gaze from the arch of buck's foot resting against his leg up buck's calf, to his knee, to where the exposed pale of his thigh disappears behind them hem of his shorts. he takes his time wandering up the rest of buck's body, lingering especially at the relaxed curve of his dick under loose cotton fabric, the relaxed curve of his gently parted lips. finally he meets buck's answering stare and blinks, languid, like he's searing something into his memory, buck-shaped sunspots in his retinas. he says, "no big deal," not convincingly.

before tommy's eyes, water transmutes into flint and back into water and over again, metamorphosing in a churning lazy whirl. it dizzies him, blurring his vision until there is no difference between the two; there's just a murky charcoal pool, molten obsidian shimmering like glass, rippling like the surface of an ocean less haunted than the one sloshing in his cerebrum.

an ocean glinting with the reflection of two incandescent stars careening towards each other at a devastating rate, a spectacle to behold.

relaxing his shoulders, tommy orders them to, "kiss," more certain than ever. when they hesitate, he adds, "each other," bracing himself for the likelihood of a stellar collision.

when eddie clambers on top of buck and leans down to crush their lips together, pushing his head down against tommy's thighs, pushing tommy out of his own, it feels more like the calm soar and twinkling glitter of a shooting star against the navy velvet sky, the soft crash of a wave against the edge of a silky coast.

there's no threat of unkind flame, no exploding celestial dust.

it feels like water.

tommy kneels at the sacred place where the luminous sea laps at the heavenly shoreline and drinks, and drinks, and drinks.

───────────────

drinks become shots become wandering hands in the generous backseat of a stranger's car, an obvious cocktail to use as a scapegoat for the hammering beneath tommy's breastbone. the depths of his mind bubble up with, trust your gut, not your heart.

he has mixed feelings about that one, but at present he's not sure he can trust any singular part of his corporeal form, so at least it half-applies.

hearts and guts aside, tommy is starkly aware that things between buck and eddie may be escalating a bit beyond his feasible reach. he'd come into the evening equipped with the knowledge that he's successfully constructed his own internal witch's cottage of cake shingles and sugared windowpanes in this questionable "date" night between the three of them, however mutually agreed upon the night may be. he's self-aware enough to understand that he's destined to walk himself straight back into it, naïve as hansel and gretel without the excuse of not knowing better.

he just hadn't realized how famished he's become, and how tempting his own makings would look.

with buck seated comfortably between himself and eddie, tommy has no real access to eddie outside of the smush of knuckles-on-upper-arm from the hand he's got slung around buck's shoulder. as per usual the concept of space does not seem to exist between the other men, and tommy's fingertips get wedged so tightly between their limbs that it feels like with just a little more effort, maybe they could do some damage. the sick, private, bourbon-drenched gutters of his mind surmise that maybe he'd let them.

he watches as they exchange a heated look and a hotter liplock, uncertain as to whether he'll ever get used to witnessing them like this. in the weeks following the fated night of their little home movie screening, tommy's been lucky enough to encourage and initiate several more exchanges of both kisses and conversation among the three of them.

"i... still want to be with you," evan had mumbled against his chest, as they laid in bed together the morning after their tag-team makeouts with eddie to the soundtrack of top gun's menu screen music on a muffled loop.

"i had hoped," was tommy's response. after a beat, "and eddie?"

buck had peered up at tommy, eyes so earnest and open and stupidly fucking blue. "yeah, yes, eddie," he'd said, almost apologetic. "i— i do want to be with eddie," like he had to.

"i know," tommy had told him, the organs in his abdomen heaving tumultuously. "it's okay, evan," he'd said, his heart a hummingbird fluttering frantic. like the idea wasn't sending his ribcage collapsing in on itself, he'd even managed, "i can leave whenever you're ready for me to go." he'd assumed all along that he was on borrowed time; couldn't be a beggar and a chooser.

buck, with love bursting forth from every single inch of his being, with more than enough to go around, had admitted to wanting tommy to stay, if tommy would be okay with it. he pitched the idea that they could talk to eddie, try this together, give it an honest shot.

tommy had flashed back to a childhood history lesson on the u.s. mint where he learned that certain coins aren't made in layers, but instead by melting all of the metals together to become a solitary slab. his copper edges fuse further into mirroring ponds of nickel.

three sides of the same coin, he'd thought to himself. imagine that.

"god, eddie," buck rasps now, voice low, clandestine enough to stay in the backseat. "want you so fuckin' bad."

eddie's answering, "jesus, buck, i— want you, too," honest and shameless, snaps tommy fully back into the present moment in perfect timing.

their rideshare driver whips into the driveway of tommy's house, personified stress wearing a thin windbreaker of customer service as he vocally ushers them out of the car — ahem, looks like we're here, have a pleasant rest of your evening, goodbye. as eddie and buck tumble out of the passenger's side rear door in a picture of resolute gracelessness, tommy, clutching stubbornly onto an ounce of awareness, pauses to give a rearview-mirror nod of thanks to the weary-eyed dude white-knuckling the steering wheel. he promises a significant gratuity for bearing with their shenanigans and lets himself out on the driver's side of the car.

while he steadies himself on his feet, gravel crackles under the wheels of the gratefully retreating sedan, headlight beams fading to shadow. tommy observes the silhouette of the inelegant, eight-limbed, two-headed harbinger-creature making its way to his home's front entrance in a clumsy tangle and waits for his innards to spike with fear, with reluctance. he meanders up the drive and overturns every stone lining the path to his warranted doom, expecting to find the tattered shreds of his decomposing clarity, or maybe a colony of vicious fire ants. all he finds is fertile, loamy earth, rife with potential.

he stumbles up his porch stairs and unlocks the door when he gets there, opening it for the lot of them to fall through together.

───────────────

together on tommy's mattress, buck and eddie writhe and moan and curse. they haven't been able to break apart since toppling out of the backseat. they kiss like it's the very thing keeping them alive.

from where he's snuggled up to buck's back, tommy's got a front row seat for the premiere screening of his most-likely demise. he can see the saliva bubblling on the edges of eddie's tongue as he smears it from buck's throat all the way to the cap of his shoulder, a glistening snail trail scattered through with blooming bruises he'd sucked into buck's skin minutes before. he can hear every wet catch of buck's breath in his throat, every soft grunt eddie lets out into against it, every exhale shared between them.

tommy's head spins, so god damn far from being on straight. he feels like a balloon released into the wind, miles above the cold and familiar waters of his deep-ocean, stranded somewhere in the high desert of his psyche. loose dry earth kicks up in a vortex around him, carried by the tempest of his culminating untended emotions. when the dust cloud settles enough for him to think, he recalls the term raison d'être.

it's french, that's why it sounds fancy, is what his father had said to teenage tommy, long before he'd cared to even attempt a grasp on the concept. he'd been moody, hormonal, and wildly, spitefully uninterested in all of the things the man he shared a name with held so dear. rolled his eyes at the gruff, translates to 'reason for being.'

"buck, buck, c'mon," is what eddie says as he scrabbles for a good grip on buck's shirt, taking fistfuls of fabric and wrenching it over buck's head in a frenzy. says, "come here," like buck isn't already melded into him, bare torsos flush, thighs slotted close. says, "come here," again, and it registers that eddie is calling for tommy, too.

tommy eyes snap onto eddie's across the naked curve of buck's shoulder to find them scalding. "fuck," he breathes out, "okay," like it's permission enough for all of them.

for now, it will suffice.

the skin stretched over buck's bulky trap muscle is tacky with eddie's spit when tommy sets his mouth against it, bursting salty-bitter on his tastebuds. buck whimpers into eddie's mouth and grinds his ass back against tommy's crotch; eddie's hips follow after them in a sinuous roll. into the blushing hollow of his ear tommy asks buck if he'd like to feel eddie inside of him, makes sure it's just loud enough for eddie to hear, too. he feels eddie's ankle hook around his own, overlapped with buck's.

"please, yes," urges buck, fervent and wanton, lust and liquor fraying the last threads of his hesitancy. "i've been wanting that."

"you have?" eddie asks, as tommy says, "he has."

"god." context aside, eddie's tone is reverent. he says it again, as though the word is synonymous with buck's name. then, like it's still a secret to himself, admits, "i've been wanting you, too."

buck groans and shifts, or maybe it's eddie — as tommy's faculties render off in the burn of both the top-shelf whiskey in his bloodstream and buck and eddie's immediate intimacy, it becomes progressively more challenging for him to distinguish the fine details. it all feels the same, gets identical synapses firing.

he tracks eddie's movements as he smooths a hand down buck's side, sure and attentive, as natural as breathing. when he keeps moving south to bump his fingertips up against the waistband of buck's jeans and the boxers beneath, buck's breath hitches, hips jerking. tommy tilts against them in pursuit.

eddie asks, "can i?" and it's double the approval he's seeking.

"yeah, eddie, please," buck begs again while tommy nods, delirious with overwhelm.

in an uncoordinated jumble, eddie gets buck flat on his back and makes himself a home between his open-lolling legs. right away his palms return to the broad planes of buck's chest, the curves of his strong stomach, the slight slants of his hips. he makes constellations out of kisses on buck's collarbone, his nipples, in the divot of his sternum.

it looks as close to worship as anything tommy's seen.

tommy wonders if it's worth telling eddie how he'd taken his time working evan open that morning, fucking him deep and thorough so he'd be easier for eddie to push inside of now. if it's worth telling eddie how he'd come, sudden and hard and so fucking good, from thinking about buck taking him so readily.

when eddie's devout, trembling fingers struggle to unclasp the button of buck's jeans, tommy decides to backburner the dirty talk. instead, he rests a hand on top of eddie's, gentle yet authoritative, and says, "let me help."

buck's hips lift for tommy's hands without second thought, making it simple to shuck the pants off of him as eddie shimmies out of his own. before he can even process the sight of evan buckley and eddie diaz naked, together, on his own mattress, tommy's met with twinning expectant gazes and understands that he's meant to strip, too.

"i—" thought i would stay on the sidelines, he tries to say. but as seconds pass under the scrutiny of the other men, the reluctance dies in his larynx, and he jostles around a bit until the denim of his pants is bunched down low enough to free his dick.

he's too preoccupied by the fact that he's got both objects of his affection directly in front of him, touching and loving on each other and spilling all of it onto him, to truly comprehend the magnitude of the moment. his head is so far into the atmosphere that he almost misses eddie say, "tell me what to do, tommy."

re-tethered to the earth by the string of eddie's voice, tommy doesn't miss buck's impatient, "aw, c'mon, eddie, just get in me." his desperate, "need you," is clear as day, clear as his afternoon sky irises, brighter against the rosy blush ruddying his cheekbones. he's always so damn pretty when he pleads.

tommy glimpses down at buck's dick, finds it stiff and pink and already leaking a mess onto his belly; he flicks across to the heft of eddie's where it rests heavy in the lax grip of his own hand. it's a beautiful cock, flushed dark and filled out, not quite as thick as tommy's but a nice, proportionate size. tommy knows buck will unfurl for him at once, a blossom to the morning sun.

meeting the bonfire of eddie's anticipative stare, tommy decides to say, "it won't take much, i got him ready for you this morning. right, baby?"

if buck could nod any more vigorously, he might snap his vertebrae. he adjusts the angle of his hips a little to make more of his ass visible, scoots onto a pillow so that he can prop himself up enough to get a better hold on eddie's waist.

"jeeesus," drawls eddie — a rare slip of his honeyed-rye texas lilt — and then, like he can't help it, "christ." his eyes rake down buck's body, idling on his twitching dick before trailing further, like he'll be able to find evidence: tommy was here.

that makes tommy smirk. he wishes he could keep his instructions ambiguous, left up for eddie's interpretation, something like he can handle whatever you're willing to give him. instead, mindful of the fact that this is largely uncharted territory for eddie, he suggests, "start with your fingers, you won't hurt him."

tommy's trusty bottle of nightstand lube is within convenient reach, making it no trouble to squeeze and slather some across eddie's fingers with a lewd jerk. a bit of extra coats the side of tommy's hand and he uses it to rub along the cleft of buck's ass, prompting a shiver out of him.

"there you go," tommy rumbles, "nice and wet."

the synchronous broken moan that the two let out when eddie finally finds the courage to nudge his fingers into buck is one that will most likely play like a broken-record loop within the walls of tommy's skull forever from this moment forward, for better or for worse.

buck promises, "i can take more," with the bleeding edge of a prayer still present in his tone. "i want more, want you, eddie, come on. it's alright, you can fuck me, you're not gonna break me."

eddie asks, "are you sure?" dually directed.

"never been more sure," buck affirms, as tommy says, "trust him, he knows his own limits," all the while knowing he can't make the same claim about himself.

regardless, he casts himself into the riptide, plummets into the undertow and captures buck's lips in a greedy kiss. he licks behind buck's teeth and drinks up his whines as eddie rides his dick along the slick valley of buck's asscheeks. before he even pushes inside, buck's making these fucking tiny wounded noises that make tommy's heart swell and cock throb.

when eddie lines up and sinks, at last, into the place inside of buck that tommy has come to learn and know and adore, buck breaks away from tommy's kiss with something close to a genuine sob. one of his hands finds one of tommy's, the other still firm on eddie's waist, keeping both of them close. he's got a leg hitched up over one of eddie's hips for better leverage, and his toes curl when eddie starts to move, shallow and slow.

eddie's name has never sounded better to tommy's ears than it does falling out of buck's lips now.

"buck." eddie's tone is reverent. he says it again, as though buck's name is synonymous with god, the two a singular entity within the confines of his skull.

tommy nearly has to look away from them, they blaze so brightly. evan buckley and eddie diaz, starfire contained in terrestrial form, crashing and combining and dazzlingly white-hot.

───────────────

white-hot aftershocks zap through tommy's nervous system as he sits at the edge of the mattress, back turned to the two other men. his fingers are gooey with spatters of buck's come mixed with his own, his softening dick sensitive and sticky as his entire body pulses from the dopamine spike of his orgasm. being a spectator to eddie and buck's otherworldly connection — and a helping hand in their ridiculously hot, intimate sex — has him feeling triply unmoored.

he's supposed to be getting them something hydrating to drink; he'd been the one to offer after eventually peeling himself free from the gordian knot of their bodies. evan always gets thirsty after, in particular when he gets a little teary from the pleasure overload, so tommy figures he could use a glass of cold water. they all could.

he tries to will his legs to stand; he finds his knees locked. impulse turns him inward and sweeps him cliffside on the tallest peak of his high desert mountain range. there, he can stand with his shoulders in repose and head in the clouds, squinting far into the distance where he can decipher the unmistakable expanse of an ocean that glints with the reflection of two incandescent stars careening towards each other at a devastating rate. a ghostly whale breaches the surface for a flash, a mere speck on the horizon from here, vanished before its presence totally registers.

his heavy eyelids flutter shut and he mulls, achingly, over the term raison d'être.

he can hear buck and eddie behind him exchanging lazy, smacking kisses and sweet murmured praises.

"you made that so good for me, thank you."

"mm, you were pretty fuckin' good yourself. now come kiss me some more."

the sounds and sentiments soak into tommy's soul like they're meant for him. his lips tingle as though the press of another mouth is against them; his ears warm as eddie waxes on about how fucking glorious that all felt. his heart swoops at evan's quiet, bashful laugh.

upon opening his eyes the fog in his line of sight clears, and even through a blur of unwanted tears he can clearly recognize that he is no longer in the desert but in the sacred place where the luminous sea laps at the heavenly shoreline. the call of the waves isn't far off at all — the surf is actually rippling at his toes, splashing at his knees and calves. he's been here since the night that eddie diaz kissed evan buckley in his lap, feet sunken into silt, warm tides rising and falling around him.

translates to 'reason for being.'

"come back to us, tommy," summons eddie, as evan's hands reach out and welcome him back down to their mess of rumpled sheets and sweaty limbs.

tommy thinks, i could be a river, and lets himself melt into the embrace of their current, stream into ocean, copper into nickel.

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Happy STS Elli!

What inspires you to write? Are there things that you know that you can get inspiration from or does it just come randomly?

Happy STS!

For me, inspiration doesn't mean "to write".

There are, and always have been, a lot of stories floating around in my mind - ideas, scenes, vibes, outlines. I get inspiration from literally everywhere, from talking to my friends, and video games, and scrolling past images or prompts, and reading books, and spending too much time on reddit, and…

Many remain daydreams, or character backstories, eventually lost to time.

Now for actually being able to sit my ass down and get words on the page? I don't know. It comes and goes as it pleases. Having a beehive where a brain should be does NOT help, let me tell you that.

I just. Can't focus on shit lately. Can barely make it through a chapter when reading. Every day is just suddenly over, and I got nothing done, and I am so tired. I have a completely outlined short thing I have been trying to write since Nov, and it's like pulling teeth.

I could do with several months off work while everyone leaves me the fuck alone. How would that be.