#but. anyway. i really kind of need a break from here because it's really warping my perception of reality

[lighthouseas]

i need to start getting off tumblr more and going outside (not right now though it's raining) this shit is starting to flare up my anxiety

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Bonus: Felps Square

@felpacweek for perhaps the final time (ibe got a day to catch up but I might or might not). Bonus round, Felps Square, and me angsting Felps instead of Pac for once <3 dissociation, potentially distressing imagery, you know how it is.

If stars shine over the island but nobody can see them, do the stars really exist at all? Or are they just another of the Federation's fabrications?

The stars can be beautiful over Quesidilla Island, but only if they can be seen. Tonight is not one of those nights; a storm hammers down upon them, with thunder, and lightning, and rain.

Felps does not care; the square is exposed but he keeps digging anyway, collar turned up against the worst of the weather. If anything, the rain is nice, helping to keep the dust from being kicked up and choking him. It is warm, too, a hot summer rain that keeps memories of Ice far, far away. He digs away, hitting the stone again and again as frozen blood and hot rain fight for ownership of his hollow body.

His soul lost the war a long time ago, banished from his flesh and sent far below the earth - now it only remains to be seen in which way nature takes its course.

The ice, or the boil. One of then will claim him, and then Felps, too, will belong to the earth.

So he digs, and he digs, and he digs, the hollow shell of his self a vessel only for the movement, and only for his pick. The ice is slowly melting from warm air and exertion, but slowly, so slowly.

And even if it melts, what will be left behind?

Just he, himself, and him.

Some nights it is easy to ignore the void, other nights he drives himself deeper and deeper still, almost hoping for a lava vein as he tries to either chase himself back into his body, or drown.

Water pools in his hole, covering his feet.

Still he keeps going.

And going.

With a splash, splash, thunk, splash, and a- "Felps!"

He looks up, eyes quickly finding the lantern and the figure carrying it. Only after he has recognised the sodden form as Pac does he notice the way his hands smart with blisters, and how his waterlogged feet object to everything.

Still, he plasters on a smile, and raises a hand in a wave.

Shielding his light from the storm, Pac jogs over. In the short run from the warp he is already soaked through, hood and hair both plastered to his face, and to say nothing of his jeans.

Felps doubts he looks any better - if anything, all his curls will only make the hair flattening look worse.

"Felps!" Pac holds up the lantern, and for a moment the light is too blinding to see his face. "Why are you still out here?!"

Yelling is required to he heard over the screaming wind; Felps had not realised that it was quite that bad. He quickly glances over Pac, concludes that nothing he is wearing is metal - Felps' pick is diamond and so safe from lightning at least - and smiles back.

"Digging!" He replies, ignoring everything that drove him here in the first place. "It's lovely weather for it, right?"

Pac clearly does not believe him, but brushes it aside, "me and Mike, Mike and me... do you want to come over? Cellbit's still busy, and it is kind of... wet. We have hot chocolate!"

Maybe putting warmth into his carcass will help more. Rotten, Cellbit called him once. Felps had responded that he cannot be rotten as his organs are cute, yet with every day Cellbit's words feel more like the truth. Was that why the Federation frozen him? To keep the rot away, just how anyone freezes a too-large slab of meat?

He was dead, and then alive, and maybe his soul is just gone because it was never supposed to come back to his decaying flesh.

Maybe a hot drink could still save him. Maybe a hot drink could break through the ice, charm his soul home without needing his skin to blister and burn, but without reawakening Death as it does.

Maybe, maybe, and it is Pac who asks it of him, but...

But still - the square, the square, the square, the square, the square, the square, the square, the square, the square, the-

He turns back to his progress, and frowns, and says "just let me finish this line."

"Alright," Pac tells him, with a kiss to the cheek that goes barely noticed. "I'll see you soon."

Pac cannot be blamed for fleeing the water. Most people do not need it, not like Felps does.

Three and a half lines later, Felps still has not followed. Behind him comes an ignored flicker of purple, and the sound of heavy boots splashing through the rain.

Just a little more, just a little more, and then Felps finally, finally will be free. He could-

Felps is grabbed by the shoulders, and turned around. No sooner has he identified Pac than a pair of lips slam into his own. Pac's hands and lips feel like burning, a kinder, burning peace after so so long.

His soul still isn't quite right yet, but the sudden change has slammed at least most of it into place; Felps allows the distraction and melts into the kiss.

After not too long Pac pulls away. One hand stays on Felps' shoulder and the other takes Felps' hand, and the only words he says are "come on, Felps, let's get somewhere dry."

Felps soul does not quite fit in to a rotten, frozen body.

It still demands he follow anyway.

[wilchur]

I really don't think I'll ever get to actually writing it this decade because I have just That Many other wips and this story is Long, but my god I keep rolling that RDR2 Modern AU of mine in my head like a pretty pebble and I have Many Thoughts. Looong ramble under the cut.

The general gist of it that it's supposed to be a "happy ending" to a true crime story, but it isn't. Not for a long while, at least. Like imagine watching a 45 minute documentary on a missing person's case, the credits roll and you're like "Wow so happy that they turned up in the end" but on the other side of the country that person has been having the worst fucking time for the past year and would've probably been better off missing.

Let me explain.

Up until May 1999 the story plays out like your run of the mill Modern AU that is kept as close to canon as I can make it. Of course some things are different in the way that comes from throwing everything a 100 years into the future like how Eliza and Isaac died in a car accident, not a home robbery. People have jobs that are different, some backstories needed to be adjusted. Arthur's last name is Matthews and not Morgan, having been adopted by Hosea and Bessie when he was around 8 or so. Him and Mary have actually been married, but it still didn't work out. Small divergences, seemingly inconsequential.

Then on May 18th Arthur Matthews goes missing. Leaves no clues as to what might've caused him to leave and where, had showed no signs anything could be wrong before he disappeared. A proper mystery. Of course it's a big thing for a while, Hosea being a pretty well known crook defence lawyer makes it interesting for the news, but after 6 months of nothing even the nastiest vultures get bored and everyone pretty much assumes Arthur to have died. Especially since he's well known to be a recovering alcoholic with multiple relapses under his belt. Probably fell off the wagon again, tripped into a ditch, hit his head. Dead.

That's when Arthur Morgan shows up.

It's up to the reader to decide if this is some universe warping time travel shenanigans or if he's the same person that went missing, just having an episode of some sorts. To everyone in the story Arthur "I'm telling you, I jumped off a sinking boat in 1899 and then showed up here" Morgan comes off as Mentally Unwell, so it doesn't really matter since it is not told from his perspective anyway and there's no way of really knowing.

(It's John's POV by the way. Forgot to mention that, whoopsie.)

And the entire story is basically a whumpy hate letter to all time travel AUs where Arthur gets yeeted into our times and pretty much shrugs it off with minor discomfort (/lh I don't actually hate those, they're silly fun, but they're not realistic?? And I am a realism nerd). Here, he gets majorly fucked up by it. Because how could he not be? First off, Hosea, who he just watched die maybe days prior, is alive and well. So is Sean and so is Lenny. He may be happy, but all that only makes everything feel even less real, pushes him further into believing that the reality he's in is some sort of a mirage or a dream. People talk about all these things that have not happened to him, there are pictures of a stranger with his face in places he's never been to. It's distressing and Arthur might be a guy that handles pressure well, but I doubt there's a single person on earth that wouldn't break under the weight of that. He's no different.

He keeps getting really distressed whenever that kind of stuff gets brought up too often. Starts having regular panic attacks, gets put on medication, sent to therapy. The "gang" are there to help him through it, but the situation takes a lot out John in particular once he realises that whatever has happened to Arthur seems unlikely to be reversed. Just as much as the person in every single family picture is a stranger to Arthur, this Arthur is a stranger to John. It's like he really died in a way. So the plot is just as much Arthur learning to cope and maybe eventually accepting that all of this is real and he's just "crazy", as John watching him go through it while simultaneously grieving the person he no longer is.

Basically an essay pondering the question "What makes us who we are, our memories or personality?" disguised as a fanfic because I like getting philosophical sometimes lol And I genuinely love it. This AU is my baby and really want to work on it, but it would have to straight up be a novel-length story. I don't have that in me 😭😭

[furrylibrarian]

I want to talk a bit about Tears of the Kingdom.

It's hard for me to do that, because all my feelings about it are contradictory and tangled up. I think its storytelling is incoherent and is actively hindered by the game structure, but it also has unquestionably some of the best story beats in the series. I find the open-ended creativity encouraged by its mechanics wild and engaging, but in practice I tend to just fall back on a few simple solutions and get frustrated when they don't easily apply to the thing I'm trying to solve. Most of all, I think it (alongside BotW) represents a much-needed shakeup to a series that was getting entirely too stale, but it is those very games that stagnated the franchise that made me fall in love with it.

Expanding on the second point I just made; I think TotK might be the only game I've played (that isn't a fighting game, anyways) that makes me feel inadequate. I know enough about its mechanics to understand that, conceptually, there's an incredible amount of potential Nonsense you can do with Ultrahand, but I just don't know how I should tap into that potential. I think it's admirable that the game doesn't tutorialize everything and lets you discover functions on your own, but because of that I've missed critical information about mechanics and felt like a complete fool for having to look up the information online (case in point; I had to consult the internet to figure out that I had to hit devices to activate them). I often have this background feeling that I could be doing something more interesting and effective when I'm playing TotK.

But really, most of my issues with TotK come from the lore implications. Gonna put a break here because spoilers. It's kind of just a rant after this point.

I've always been sharply aware that the devs aren't really concerned with adhering to an extended continuity and would rather craft a self-contained experience, but I just can't get over how weird TotK's story and backstory are. I'm still not sure what to make of the revelation that APARRENTLY there was just a SECOND GANONDORF the whole time who nobody knew about, and I'm still not really sure if Calamity Ganon was the classic Ganondorf degraded to a primal form after millennia of reincarnation (as I believed before TotK dropped), or if it was related to this game's new ancient Ganondorf? It's a messy situation that's only a problem when you're thinking about BotW/TotK in the context of the rest of the franchise WHICH IS COMPLETELY REASONABLE

Also the memories are just so strange. They feel like a warped retelling of OoT's first act, especially since a main character shares his name with an OoT character, a name which is not one of the many continually-recycled named the series uses which makes it sound way more significant! Like when I was playing through, I had this weird creeping feeling that this game was trying to replace OoT with this new backstory? Like obviously, no, it isn't, but it hit so many of the same important beats! Ganondorf allies himself with the king of Hyrule (even mirroring a shot from OoT), Zelda realizes he's up to something and tries to stop him, only to fail spectacularly such that Ganondorf gets the exact empowered artifact he was gunning for the whole time. Even Zelda transforming into a dragon to repair the Master Sword and sacrificing her identity in the process reminded me of Link in OoT drawing the Master Sword and losing his childhood, LIKE THEY'RE TELLING THE SAME STORY, WHAT IS GOING ON

I don't have a conclusion, I don't have a thesis, I just have opinions and I needed to vent them

[silo1013]

need you to talk about the “the red and the black” scene like what are your first thoughts

YESSSS YES OF COURSE….

first of all this scene is gay. just to get that out of the way now. i know we all know it is but it’s worth reiterating.

second of all even outside of that particular connotation this scene is also just extremely visually and impressionally odd. it’s intense! it’s charged! it’s creepy and weird! the entire sequence has a delightful strangeness to it—the almost nonexistent lighting turns mulder and krycek into living shadows, both their voices are hushed and quiet as if they’re afraid someone else is going to hear them even though they’re in mulder’s apartment alone, it’s shot in a way that makes them look like they’re across the room from each other even though they can’t be more than a foot apart. it makes it seem not real, like a dream that mulder is having that he won’t be able to wake from until it’s done with him; mulder’s night-dark living room becomes his tired mindscape, krycek a warped reflection of himself.

the cryptic note that “things are looking up” lends an air of delicious cinema to it all—it’s so incongruous it loops back around to being perfectly in keeping. it’s the sort of thing you’d expect from a spy novel, a murder mystery, a point-and-click escape-the-room video game. it’s really not the kind of thing that the syndicate does but it IS something you get the sense that the well manicured man would do, which is cool, because it makes it seem like krycek’s new boss is sort of… monitoring the entire interaction, which in turn makes the fact that mulder and krycek are acting like they’re being watched even more interesting. there’s a sort of surreal quality to the entire scene that is very obviously and abruptly shattered by the arrival of scully to mulder’s apartment—she turns on the lights, breaks the spell, brings mulder back down to earth by injecting the situation with a syringe full of reality like she almost always does.

you and i have definitely tossed this around before but the emotional crux of this scene i think very heavily leans on the sort of like. bizarre innate Understanding. that mulder and krycek have with each other. even though it sort of feels like neither of them WANT to have it? like, krycek isn’t here of his own accord—we can infer that the well manicured man has sent him—but his boss is probably not ordering him to present the information to mulder in this specific weird way. i doubt the well manicured man cares how krycek tells mulder anything as long as he does it. krycek is here because he was told to be, but he’s here in this way, as the silhouette in the dark corner, the monster under the bed, the man-upon-the-stair-who-wasn’t-there, because… of course he is. like, he has to be. neither he nor mulder have a choice in the matter—they can’t just walk up to each other and have a conversation the way they may have used to, because they’re literally no longer capable of it within the confines of the story. they have to play mind games, they have to lunge from the shadows and leave cryptic clues and beat the shit out of each other over and over because something, in a weird cosmic way, is always demanding it.

krycek gives mulder a kiss—an action which has several purposes, one of which IS definitely to fuck with mulder. i think krycek thinks that mulder will be more likely to believe him if he does something that throws mulder off balance, because unpredictability is paradoxically what mulder has grown to expect from krycek, to the point where it reassures mulder (who’s currently mentally kind of off balance anyway) that this is, like, still the same person he thinks it is. i think it’s probably a taunt on some level, and maybe also a legitimate expression of …. not affection exactly, but comraderie? in whatever weird way krycek is experiencing it. even though mulder has no idea yet what they’re now comrades in or why. it feels like a joke that krycek is having with himself.

he then gives mulder his gun and proceeds to fully turn his back on him to leave—it’s another game he has to play, and he knows mulder isn’t going to shoot him. mulder can never be straight with krycek because metanarratively speaking krycek is mulder, and mulder is historically not good at being straight with himself, but mulder also could never. like. i think he’s CAPABLE of doing that to himself but i don’t think he would be able to rationalize it. just like he couldn’t rationalize the idea of killing krycek—and in fact, he never does! it’s actually kind of funny how they’re physically not allowed to be honest and stop fucking with each other (even if it’s for one of them to kill the other!) because something will not let them, and they know this, and it’s making both of them, like, visibly insanely angry. this is where they always end up, somehow, for some reason, in endless different permutations forever, until someone else shoots one of them. destiny and fate and how to throw a curve ball.

they (being mulder and scully) talk about this in quagmire, sort of, and i think something that contributes to the sort of vaguely tragic nature of mulder as a character is the fact that for him, sometimes the pursuit of truth is what he lives for, not so much the truth itself. catching big blue would have invoked the same emotional response as catching the giant alligator, because big blue itself is not what matters—what matters is the mystery, and either way, the mystery is over. that phenomenon is what krycek is representing in this scene; that’s his metaphorical purpose, independent of his relationship to mulder as a character and as a person. it’s a very interesting parallel to the scene of scully and jeffrey spender in the x files office, which we can assume even might be happening concurrently. scully’s disquiet over the situation with ruskin dam, her experience with regression hypnosis, etc is leading her closer towards finally starting to believe, but spender showing her that tape pours a pitcher of water over the burgeoning spark. at the same time, mulder thinks he’s finally found the truth—the truth being that it’s all a lie—and it’s left him disappointed, empty, cold. his flames have gone out. krycek brings news that the mystery might not actually be solved, holding a match to the cooling embers, rekindling the fire that mulder has lost. the episode casts both spender and krycek less as men and more as metaphors, agents of thought, and it ends, maybe disappointingly, with mulder and scully back where they started, in the places the powers that be always seem to want them—mulder the believer, scully the skeptic.

lastly, independent of the feeling of the scene, i want to mention the stuff that’s actually being talked about. obviously i haven’t finished the show yet so YMMV on how much you agree with me at this point, but in my opinion this part of the show (i.e. mid season five) is where they seem to start losing their handle on the myth arc. the stuff about planned alien colonization, “interstellar war”, it’s kind of cartoonish and dumb and i don’t really like it. i’ve mentioned before that i wish the central conflict of the myth arc was slightly more down to earth (lol); i would have preferred something a bit less, i don’t know, fantastical. maybe instead of the aliens planning to invade and colonize the earth, they’re just exploring. they’re not harmless by any means (i think the whole idea of the black oil was absolutely marvelous and arguably i think that sort of thing is scarier when it’s not something actively malicious but rather something that just causes harm by existing) but they don’t care enough about us to gun for us. the conflict maybe comes even from the government; they’re picking up the stuff the aliens leave behind (technology, biomatter, etc) and using it for their own purposes (human experimentation, military applications), probably in ways that benefit them politically or financially, and the conflict comes from what they’ve done to people in their efforts to cover it up. just stuff i think about

sorry this got long and took forever i had more to say than i thought i did. tl;dr great scene with a very fascinating vibe from a great episode with a very fascinating vibe. alexa, play “i’ve got all this ringing in my ears but none on my fingers” by fall out boy

[galactic-pirates]

I just posted this in my favourite Trek discord but I am going to post my ramble here as well for posterity :)

I still haven’t seen this weeks episode of Picard. Give me a couple of hours.

BUT I have seen some gifsets and it appears the era appropriate Enterprise returns. Between that and the ready room scene I am half convinced that getting those fanservice shots of “look they are back together just how they were!!!” is the only point of the season and whatever crap they had to fling at the wall to get those shots didn’t matter to them.

Anyway I would like to propose an alternate season 3 pitch that would achieve those exact same shots.

It’s Frontier Day. Between the synth ban reversal (and now being a synth! The first human to synth?), and of course the new Borg showing up/narrow averting the Galaxy catastrophe of the season 2 finale Picard’s star is on the rise again. He is enjoying a resurgence in reputation. Therefore it’s only natural, especially with Geordi in charge of the museum that as a special show (for the kids maybe as some kind of living history?) they put the Enterprise-D crew back together. It is supposed to be a performance. Perhaps for StarFleet recruitment even. A little reenactment of one of their famous missions.

But then. Something plotty happens like maybe the Borg watching over the new wormhole thing sound the alarm as “something is coming through” duh duh duh. All hands on deck. No time to change ships. Picard isn’t about to sit this out so they warp into action. More plotty stuff like maybe to beat whatever comes through they need to understand it, so to explore/negotiate etc. they go through to learn things.

Anyway the Enterprise-D and crew are on mission. Alone in a strange new part of the Galaxy dealing with this new threat.

So stakes are high check. Have to work as a team check. Everyone is back and on the Enterprise check.

A plot like this would have

a) allowed the characters to express discomfort at having to adopt roles that haven’t been theirs for 30 years. Show how they have grown, but also allow for nostalgia and what remains the same.

b) drawn on previous seasons of Picard, for better continuity

c) who has experience in a Federation unknown part of the Galaxy? Seven from her time on Voyager allowing her to both have her own nostalgia trip, and also have something really concrete to contribute.

d) allowed for some interesting conflicts because if Seven and Raffi had been deployed as the “starfleet officers kinda ‘in charge’ as they are active StarFleet and none of the Enterprise crew really is (they got the gig due to working with Picard so closely before) then with this unexpected adventure what’s the chain of command? What’s the protocols? Especially if said regulations had changed over the years.

e) finally it would break some new ground and give future Trek new plots to explore. Maybe introduce a whole new alien type. It could also do some heartwarming Federation stuff about ruefully acknowledging past mistakes, at the same time as trying to do better and show these new people the best of who the Federation can be

Worf and Raffi could have still teamed up for ‘away missions’ as two of the fittest/most able crew members. I still remember what Riker said about his knees 😂

Riker and Picard still could have butted heads over how to handle stuff. Like I said with the discomfort of having grown away from the roles they are now being forced back into.

Deanna’s abilities could have been vital. I’m sure all of them could have had a chance to shine.

The only kinda question mark as to whether this could have fitted in somehow is Data’s resurrection. I guess perhaps they could have rebuilt him and then ‘unveiled him’ as part of a “look a Federation hero has returned” as a Frontier Day celebration cue Picard’s horror that they are treating Data like a prop not a person, that they had revived him potentially against his wishes, and maybe even allow Data to consider his future and what he wants from his newfound life. Does he still want to be StarFleet/their poster boy synth? Does he want to explore other aspects of life? Will they let him go if that’s what he wants?

Anyway I think something like this could have ticked the boxes and egotistically I think it’s a better premise than the season 3 we had. So thought experiment time!

If you were a Trek writer how would you have written season three? What direction would you have gone given the parameters of the nostalgia TNG focus?

[kulaiyin]

(content: honkai star rail 1.0 main story and various herta space station exploration up to 1st destination) 

SO... STAR RAIL...

hsr really caught my eye because of all the familiar characters in different AUs... i feel like as another installment to honkai franchise i have to see what the characters do! 

honestly, it’s great that there’s a mix of old and new faces so newcomers don’t feel like they need to have a lot of context to enjoy the characters. 

very excited to witness a new world and story made by these devs!! (/≧▽≦)/

(reactions under the cut! warning, VERY image heavy...)

KAFKA! she’s so different from her hi3 design... but i’m sure she’s taken the internet by storm already. we love a cool gal 👏

i love that each chara takes out their phone for the pause screen!

BRONY-- no, hold on... BRONI-- no, that ain’t it either... SILVERWOLF!!!

i find it so interesting that bronie’s nickname is a "bunny that hunts wolves” and now she is silverwolf in star rail... well, bronya does have the “wolf of urals” nickname so maybe it’s combined... ANYWAY COOL TO SEE HER SO EARLY!!!!!

but... i just keep getting the impression that kafka is evil so my gut reaction is “why are you on the bad guy’s side?! Σ(っ °Д °;)っ

already love the environment and aesthetics of this place...

i ended up naming my mc pluto! i picked female mc because she’s cool... 

ended up being a great choice because--! SHE SOUNDS SO GOOD IN CHINESE VOICEOVER AAAAAAA A DEEP VOICE... sounds almost like rosaria! 🥺💕 

the game’s flavor text humor is cranked up to 100...

i was caught 1000000% off guard by arlan’s voice HRKLJLRKJGLJH i was already a little bit interested in his design before but... BUT... (deep voiced female va... very good...)

(FOUND OUT THAT ARLAN’S VA DID KIANA HOLY HELL KIANNAAAA anyway i need arlan)

i took the screenshot at an unflattering angle but HIMEKO LOOKS SO BEAUTIFUL HERE AAHRHAHGHRGH

THE ENVIRONMENTS ARE SO COOL!!! i tried to talk to every npc... it’s kind of sad how they’ll be traumatized after the event... since the mc woke up kind of far from the main destruction, i didn’t feel the impact of the attack until now...

my first 4* using the warp pass... a light cone 🤧

i went to search the wiki for this light cone and i couldn’t find it ∑( 口 || this is uncharted territory...

ABOUT TO BECOME A MARCH 7TH MAIN

BEAT MY FIRST FORMIDABLE FOE WITH A LOT OF EFFORT

WELT MY MAN!!! HE SOUNDS SO OLD AND DEEP IN THIS GAME

fu hua references in the achievements?! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) (taixu is the correct spelling of taixuan)

PEPPY HAS AN IN-GAME MODEL?!?!?!

I’LL PROTECT PEPPY WITH MY LIFE

the noises it makes... oughr... ouughheghrg (dies 

“please just order me around as you please” but unironically

this whole conversation was funny... i just assume every npc with an afro is part of the afro society now...

it is SO FUNNY that they made mc like this, i love reading mc’s thoughts and impulses... they are such a rascal

himeko sword and traveler’s wing glider... 🤧 apparently there is a tears of themis reference in here too, in the card stack!

beginners warp also got me qingque!!! i love her auto attack animation... she has fun mechanics and is pretty strong (to my noob self), but very action-hungry! 😳

i got destroyed right after

SO FUNNYYYYYYYY

i took this screenshot because i thought the angle was cool... 

i’d really love if eventually, later in the game’s lifespan, we could get our own room on the express to decorate...

i’ll break off the post here and continue in another one since i can’t add any more images without tumblr being mad at me haha... oops (￣┰￣*)ゞ  

see you next post! 

[manysmallhands]

#29: Electrelane - To The East

Released - March 12th 2007

Highest UK Chart Position - Did not chart

First Heard - Cheap CD, 2017

I had a kind of mini-breakdown a few years ago, and one of the records that I listened to a lot thru that time was Electrelane’s last album, No Shouts, No Calls. Not because the subject matter had anything to do with what was going on (it didn’t), but because it’s a record with a powerful emotional wallop and that was what I needed to prop me up back then. To The East is one of the best songs on that album and while it’s not really a happy song and certainly one that I associate with an unhappy time, I only have good memories of it: it seems to warp reality around itself.

It starts with just a kick drum and a single repeated bass note, but builds gradually and gains pace as it gets wrapped up in Verity Suzeman’s plea to an absent lover. I think the key to its greatness is that, though her longing is unmistakable, she never sounds very convinced that it will change anything: you can tell that it’s a waste of time and yet she does it all anyway, she really can’t help herself. And so, when the song takes off in the chorus, the burst of emotion that breaks is like a dam-burst, an uncontrolled flood of wailing which eventually just couldn’t be contained. Backed by a step change in the music, as the guitars kick up and the group harmonies storm in behind her, it forms a kind of knock-out blow: its effect on me is very similar to being hit in the head with a frying pan.

Part of the process of picking these songs has been walking around with them on a big playlist, which got revised whenever something wasn't good enough. While at times that approach hasn’t always suited To The East (it benefits more from being played over the speakers) I’ve never seriously been tempted to not include it here: it simply means too much to me. Before I wrote this, I got the CD out and put it on the stereo, the idea being to make a few notes (for the notes) to guide me. By the end of the first chorus I was already in floods of tears and they didn’t let up til the end: I guess that To the East still feels like a lot sometimes. It’s a song that was a friend to me at a time where I didn’t have much hope and its central idea, that the singer absolutely knows that everything is fucked but is determined to pretend that it might come good, is something that still feels very familiar.

[empressofthesunwriter]

Friendly Faces Everywhere

Codename Dovahkiin Part 2

Now that the Stick of Truth RPG is over it's time for N.K. to face the normal everyday life of South Park.

She should have known nothing in South Park is ever normal!

Day to day the craziness of this supposed quiet little mountain town she has to combat now.

Thank god, she has Tammy, Wendy, her boys, and her Social Media/Magical Girl Powers on her side.

This gonna be a wild ride!

Main Pairing: New Kid/Kenny McCormick/Kyle Broflovski

Chapter 7:This is not you!

The Christmas break is over soon.

Too soon for my taste.

I enjoyed it greatly.

Having dates with Heidi, doing something with my female friends, and spend time with Leo.

I totally and completely ignore the fever dreams I had on Christmas.

Just ignore it and be a good girlfriend, friend, and sister.

Nothing to see here officer.

Only a normal pre-teen living her normal life in a…really fucked up city.

But we will ignore this.

Ignoring is good.

Anyway, the first school day after the break starts with a school assembly where also our parents participate.

I’m sitting between my parents, wondering what will happen next.

Mr. Mackey explains to us that Principal Victoria got fired since she didn’t react right to a student calling rape "hot Cosby" and that we will get a new principal.

The men that walks in…I get shivers all over my body.

Not because he is creepy or anything.

I know his type.

That’s a dudebro who is full-on political correctness.

My gut is right as he tells us clearly: “I don't know about you, but frankly I'm sick and tired of how minority groups are marginalized in today's society. I'm here because this place is lost in a time warp! Students who still use the word "retarded"! A teacher who said women without wombs should get an AIDS test! A chef "person of color" who the children had sing soul songs and who the children drove to kill himself!”

“No, he got brainwashed by a cult.”, corrects him Leo.

This earns my little brother two days' detention.

P.C. Principal is not joking around. Alone his name says it all.

Hey, I’m the first one who is against injustice and all that, but these dudebro’s are too extreme.

Even Mr. Mackey gets detention because he answered P.C. Principals question where the minoritys are correct.

I mean, we do have only Token.

Yet the dudebro doesn’t care.

We will need all to watch our tongue around him.

After the little assembly our parents go home or to work and we start our school day.

When it’s break time I call all my friends and my girlfriend over to my locker.

“Okay, my amazons, listen up.”, I begin in a hushed tone. “I hate to say it but we have to be careful now what we say, because we can’t even make jokes anymore. P.C. Principal is out for blood and he will pick up any political incorrectness, even if it’s sarcasm or the likes.”

“You are white as a sheet.”, points Heidi out and rubs my cheek in comfort. “Are you alright N.K.?”

“Yeah, I never saw you this scarred. I thought you would find P.C. Principal awesome!”, wonders Bebe.

All our friends make agreeing sounds.

I take Heidi’s hand and shake my head with wide eyes.

“I know his P.C. from when I lived in Miami. All and nothing is an offense to this guys. And the worst is you can’t argue with them because they will throw at you the racist, bigoted, or queerphobic card. They even don’t care if you are part of a minority. So from now on we have to watch our mouth.”

Wendy frowns at me.

“This sounds like a personal experience.”

“It is. When I lived in Miami I was dating an Hispanic girl. It wasn’t anything serious, but we had a good time with each other. Well till the day we were at this Starbucks.”, I recount my first time facing this kind of P.C. I still shiver thinking about it. “I told her she looked tired. That’s when a dudebro literally jumped up from his chair and called me out because I stereotyped her as a sleepy person. Even her telling him she really was tired, didn’t help. That guy was not stopping. I’m not ashamed to say I cried like a river. Never has someone completely destroyed me like this dude.”

All their chins meet the floor and Heidi hugs me to console me.

“Oh damn, this doesn’t sound good!”, say’s Red.

“If some of them made N.K. cry it’s serious.”, adds Nichole.

“All right, we need to watch what we are saying around P.C. Principal.”, reminds them Wendy. “Anyone who gets our pretty much real Amazon crying and being ashamed of herself is not someone you wanna mess with.”

The school bell sounds, meaning we all have to go back to our classrooms, which we do.

Only one day has to pass before the boys come to me.

And with boys I mean I saw how they send Leo over to talk to me, while Stan’s Gang minus Cartman and Craig’s gang look from save distance on.

I’m standing with Heidi at my locker, putting my books away, so we can go to the cafeteria to have lunch with our girl group.

“Hey big sis, hey Heidi.”, greets us Leo nervous. He so doesn’t want to do it. “The guys…I mean I was wondering if you N.K. will do something against P.C. Principal.”

I just look around him to fix the little cowards with a glare.

“Really brave of you all. Send my own brother in hopes I agree more. If you have to say something say it.”, I make clear.

At least the fourth-grade boys do look a bit embarrassed.

“Please N.K. you are the strongest person we know.”, Stan begins. “If you can’t get rid of P.C. Principal no one can.”

“Also since you and Heidi are the only same-sex couple, maybe you can go together to him. He will surely listen to your more since you are a minority.”, adds Craig monotone like always.

I can’t believe what I heard.

“We will certainly not get on P.C. Principals’ bad grades.”, I tell them, taking my girlfriend’s hand. “People like P.C. Principal don’t see reason, they see only their way. You can’t win against him in normal ways.”

“So we should just give up? That dude will ruin anything, what is with free speech and all.”, ask me, Kyle.

It’s weird talking to him after…well all that happened.

“No, that’s not what N.K. means.”, answers Heidi for me. I’m so thankful for her. “If you wanna get rid of P.C. Principal you have to play dirty.”

“Go to Cartman, he is the evil psychopath you need.”, I point out.

With that, we make our way to the cafeteria.

When school ends we all heard the news.

Apparently P.C. Principal kicked Cartman’s ass so hard that the fatass is now at the hospital.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m happy about that. Cartman deserves all the beatings in the world.

Yet, I’m disappointed that our local psycho couldn’t win against P.C. Principal.

I have a feeling the dudebro will stay for a long time.

The P.C. party the next day in school and hearing there Kyle stopped saying Caitlyn Jenner isn’t a hero is proof enough.

Still, I can’t help but wonder…I have my Social Media Power and my Magical Girl Form…maybe I could have WON against them.

Why did I not fight?

I’m asking this myself later at night laying in my bed.

Did I lose my will to fight?

Yes, I had a bad experience with a dudebro before, but I never backed down.

Not if I have all this power on my side.

Or…I’m just a little girl with powers who thinks she can change the world but when she should do it she shows her true colors.

The colors of a coward.

I’m so confused.

That’s when I hear how someone is knocking on my window.

…What the fuck I’m on the second floor who is crazy enough to climb up my window?

I get my answers as it opens dramatically and I see a masked boy with a dark cape and a green M on his chest and a little question mark on his hood.

“Novella-Karin Campo.”, says the mysterious boy my name in such a deep voice that sends shivers down my back. Not out of fear…I have a voice kink. So you can imagine what I’m feeling. “We need to talk. Transform and meet me at your front yard.”

“Wait a second who are you, you mysterious caped dude with the sexy voice?! How do you know me and my powers?”

“Mysterion. All will be clear to you soon.”

Dramatically he jumps down and my chin meets the floor.

I don’t know what is going on, but this Mysterion is the hottest guy I ever met.

I have a girlfriend, I have a girlfriend, I have a girlfriend I like a lot! Don’t be a thot, N.K.!

Still, I transform and float down to the ground.

Mysterion just looks stoic at me, a dark intimidating silhouette in the moonlight. I swerve dark shadow tendrils dance around him.

I feel a power coming from him…so dark…so old…so not understandable.

This turns me even more on.

I may be bisexual but I admit I always dreamed of meeting a dashing mysterious superhero and being whisked away at night in his strong arms.

But I’m no damsel…I kind of a hero too…okay more a Magical Girl but whatever, you get my point.

Once again remember I have I girlfriend and don’t be a thot!

“So Mysterion.”, I begin curious. “Will you now tell me who you are and what you want from me?”

Something similar like a smile is on his lips.

“You can’t guess?”

“I would remember someone with a voice like that.”

“You only need to know that I’m your friend.”, he tells me. “And as your friend, I have to ask you…what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Hey!

I cross my arms and send him an angry look.

“So not only do you not want to tell me who you are, but you also insult me. Doesn’t makes you look good Mysterion.”

“Some needs to be straight with you-“

“-I’m allergic to straight, ew!-“

“-I’m not even commenting on that. When you first came to this town you were this unstoppable force of nature but since you are together with your girlfriend you became tame. The N.K. I meet would have done something against P.C. Prinicipal, yet you told us to go to Cartman. So I’m asking you, what is fucking wrong with you?”

Speechless I stare at him.

…I hate to admit it, but he is right. The same thoughts tormented me.

“Look dude, you are one of my friends, as it seems. Also, I will be frank with you…Heidi is important to me. I messed up with Kyle and Kenny and made Heidi unsure about our relationship. I will not destroy it only to help the boys.”

Mysterion has only one thing to say to me: “Coward.”

I wince, but I don’t disagree.

“So you put your relationship before anything? You have a gift, it’s your damn duty to use it for the good of the people.”

I’m remembering my fever dream where I was divorced from Heidi because I put my powers in the first place.

“What do you know about gifts? I NEVER ASKED TO BE MADE THIS WAY!”, I shout the last part into his face, pointing an accusing finger at him.

The masked boy… just looks so tired and defeated now.

“I understand you better than you think.”, he starts to tell me. “I have also a gift…a curse I didn’t ask for.”

This…didn’t expect that. I feel the sincerity of Mysterion. He looks like he lived a thousand lifetimes and only saw the worst of humanity.

“What is your curse?”, I ask quietly.

“I can’t die.”

What?!

“I've experienced death, countless times. Sometimes I see a bright light. Sometimes I see heaven. Or hell. But eventually, no matter what, I wake up in my bed, wearing the same old clothes.”

Shocked I put my hand on my mouth. His desperation is clear as water. Something like this you can’t fake.

“And the worst part? Nobody even remembers me dying. I go to school the next day, and everyone is just like, "Oh hey Kenny." Even if they had seen me get decapitated with their own eyes.”

…Kenny?

Tears trail down my eyes as I cry for him.

For my princess.

I should have known it was him.

He wants to say more, but I just hug him to me.

I hug him with all the love I have in my heart for him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”, I wail. “You must think I’m the biggest egoist in the world. I never wanted to hurt you guys, no one, but it seems I can only do that. You are right I should have helped you guys…but I don’t wanna lose Heidi.”

He hugs me back, petting my head.

“There is more, isn’t there N.K.?”

“I had a dream on Christmas Eve. I saw a future where I abandon you guys for Heidi and then I abandon her for my powers. I don’t want this future to happen!”

It feels good to finally speak about it.

Mysterion…Kenny hugs me tighter, rubbing my back in comfort.

“N.K. it was only a dream.”

“It felt so real!”

“Maybe that was just your fears getting the best out of you.”, he hypnotizes. “I can promise you that I will never abandon you…I like you to much for it, even if you don’t like me anymore this way.”

A wet laugh escapes my lips.

“Silly Kenny, it’s a mess of emotions, because I STILL like you and Kyle. I’m sure Heidi knows this too and yet she told me I should stay friends with you guys. I don’t deserve her.”

Careful Kenny wipes away my tears, tutting at me.

“Now N.K. that’s too melodramatic, even for me. Why don’t you just talk with us and make a mess like this? If you don’t talk your dream will come true.”

I sniffle and Kenny hands me a tissue. I blow my nose loudly. Something like a tiny smile is on his lips.

“I love you, Kenny, I really do.”, I confess finally. “Now knowing you are just like me…it makes me love you more. You understand me. You did from the moment we meet each other as princess and mage.”

“I love you too N.K., I never felt this way for a girl. You are so important to me, please don’t push me away again.”

“Heidi…I love her too…I just…I can’t break up with her…I love her…”

The hooded boy signs, stroking my cheek.

“Babe…you know… I don’t have anything against it if you want to date Heidi still…she is a cute and nice girl…I could learn to love her too.”

…I blink rapidly at him.

Did I hear him right?

“Kenny…what do you mean?”

“I read this up on the internet. Polyamory-relationships? I would be okay with this. Don’t know how Kyle thinks about it, but if you want to date other people while we also are together I would accept it. I just…want you so much…in any way you can give me.”

My chin meets the floor.

I can’t believe what I’m hearing!

Mamma was right, I should have fucking talked with the boys before and not assumed things!

“Kenny so that you know, I would literally jump you now and make you cum with my mouth till you are dry because this makes me so happy! But we need to talk to Heidi first. She has to be okay with this too.”

I hear how he has to bit down a moan and gives me a hot look.

“You are a tease, but you are also right. Let’s talk with Heidi first thing in the morning.”

We both smile brightly at each other.

 Maybe…it really can work.

“One last thing, why did you dress up in your superhero persona to talk to me?”

“I had a feeling you would have ignored Kenny because you are also stubborn.”

“…You got me there.”

We say goodbye to each other with a hug. Back in my room, I send Heidi a text that we need to talk before school about something.

I hope she will agree to this too.

But if I have to choose between Heidi and Kenny…god this will be difficult.

God, if you love me make it go a way we all can be happy.

Me, the author, points at you, the readers: Will you hear N.K. prayer and make N.K., Heidi, and Kenny canon? Review!   

Next time on Pokemon, I mean, Chinpokemon, no wait, on Friendly Faces Everywhere the thrilling conclusion.

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[five-rivers]

*looks intently at you* You do realise you can't give us a Walker-has-to-manage-blob-Phantom plot hook and not follow up on it, right?

This is one option for that, but I don't know if this is what I'd use to make it a full story (like, when I originally wrote the last piece, Danny's struggling is because he's trying not to transform). Anyway...

.

.

.

Danny had a lot of problems with the 'powers' the accident had given him. Mainly, that they were less 'useful powers' and more 'ironic curse.' It wasn't bad enough that he would, without warning, slip out of phase with reality, losing, in turn, visibility, solidity, and weight, but he was also periodically forced to turn into a tiny ghost with the general shape and consistency of a jelly-filled balloon.

That, at least, he had warning for. A slow, steady build up of not-quite-pressure and not-quite-electricity to the point of almost-pain over the course of days, culminating in a schism of light and an echo of agony.

He'd been getting better at controlling it, at releasing that energy when he was somewhere safe, like at Sam or Tucker's house, and, after it passed, pulling himself back together. He hadn't really wanted to practice with it, but Sam had insisted. It helped a little that both she and Tucker thought that the shape he was forced into was 'kind of cute' rather than an 'abomination of ectoplasm and post-human consciousness,' which is what his parents had called it the one time he had the misfortune to be spotted by them in that shape.

Stupidly, he'd thought that his practice would be useful, but no. Maybe he'd been able to get out of those chains, but he'd been caught literally seconds after. And now this stupid ghost body he'd been forced into was responding to the firm, steady pressure of Walker's giant hand with instinctive docility. Walker was big. Walker was strong. Walker radiated ectoplasmic power like a bonfire radiated heat. Walker could squish him to bits whenever he wanted.

Walker - and, admittedly, Danny's ability to read faces suffered when he was like this - looked like he was having a crisis. The fact he had his head on his desk seemed to support that.

Tentatively, Danny tried to bite Walker again. As before, he was foiled by the man's gloves.

Walker picked himself up and started looking through his desk. After a few minutes, he retrieved a jar from the back of a drawer.

Danny squeaked in alarm and tried to squirm away. In another few minutes, when he was recovered, he might have tried to transform back and break Walker's grip, but if he was put in a jar like that? He wouldn't dare risk it. He didn't know if the transformation would break it or... not.

"Don't give me that," growled Walker. "If I could trust you to stay put, I wouldn't have to." He unscrewed the lid one handed, inserted Danny with something approaching gentleness, then slammed the lid back on and rapidly screwed it closed.

Danny squeaked again, glad that he didn't need to breathe when he was like this, because it looked like Walker wasn't going to poke any holes in that lid.

He pooled sadly in the bottom of the jar, his stubby tail lashing with anxiety. He knew that his thought process tended to shift the longer he was like this, to the point where Sam and Tucker had a hard time getting him to turn back after their 'endurance test.' They weren't here. How long would Walker leave him in this? His whole 'sentence?' Would Danny even last that long in a little jar like this? He didn't have to breath. Did he have to eat? He didn't know.

Walker was carrying the jar. Where was he taking him?

Lashing his tail in anxiety had morphed into a whole-body ripple. This evolved to pure, keening, panic when Walker opened a door and Danny saw, warped by the walls of his glass prison, the characteristic equipment of an infirmary.

Oh, no, they were going to dissect him. They'd found out how much of a freak he was and they were going to pull him apart.

However, his all-encompassing panic was overtaken by a novel sensation. Something calming. Filling? Good. Something good that traveled through the glass beneath him and hit him in gentle waves that made him wiggle. This was good. This was nice.

Very distantly, the part of him that was familiar with the more technical, theoretical side of ectology recognized that he must have been placed on a source of ectoenergy the he was now... feeding on.

There was a grinding sound from above, and he looked up. The lid had been taken off. He'd wanted to go that way before. Why? He wasn't sure. The happy feeling was down here. He wasn't going to leave the good happy feeling.

A spoon full of something green was lowered into the jar. Ectoplasm! It got close enough to Danny that he didn't have to move away from the happy feeling to lick it clean. It was tasty and green. There was something else in it, though. Like an instruction, maybe.

The instruction was something very much like 'fall asleep.' So he did.

.

"What's the damage, doc?" asked Walker.

"Not much," said the prison doctor, washing his hands. "Malnourished, maybe. Fairly complex thought for someone at this stage of formation, but that might be 'cause he's a halfa or whatever you wanna call 'em." He turned off the sink and reached for a towel.

"Not what I meant."

"Yeah, I know. Kid isn't more than a few months old at the outside, and he's an actual kid on top of that. Probably not even a little over his death yet."

"Crap," said Walker. "What're we supposed to do with this? I run a prison." Not a great place for babies, all told.

The doctor shrugged. "Dunno that you have much choice."

"I don't know if I can even keep him here, if I let him out of that jar."

"Then you'll just have to keep catchin' him, I guess. Or, we've got those shapeshifter bracelets, for that Amorpho fellow. Maybe we can put one of those on? Round the main body part, maybe? Since he doesn't have hands?"

"He'd phase through when he turns human," grumbled Walker.

"Weld it to those specialty chains you've got or something. Gotta do something, right? He isn't going to learn how to be a ghost in the human world." The doctor snorted. "Maybe that's why he's so small, though. Trying to stay over there."

"Ancients," said Walker, rubbing his face. "He beat Plasmius. Bunch of the inmates here, too. He probably doesn't even know what an Obsession is. He already hates me. This is going to be hell."

"Eh. There are worse afterlives."

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

The Dock

A/N: So I’m writing for Bucky now...☺️ I wrote this for @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge but also not? I’ve had the idea in my head for a while now so I thought I’d participate! I included the prompt, but it’s not so much the plot of the story so much as just part of it. Anyways, happy reading!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger!Reader

Summary: After a long time of mutual pinning, a night on the dock helps you and Bucky finally confess your feelings for each other

Word count: 4.5k+

Warnings: Swearing, reader gets catcalled, violence, excessive usage of the middle finger

Prompt: Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]

---

You awoke to your head bobbing on the car window and the sound of crunching gravel as the car pulled into the driveway of Tony’s lake house. Your neck ached from leaning over in a strange position for so long and you groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

Bucky grinned from the seat beside you. “Sleep well?” he asked, nudging your calf with his foot. “You got a little drool there.”

“Oh, shut up.” You stuck your middle finger up in his direction. “I slept very well, actually. Thank you for asking.”

“I can tell.” You lifted up your other hand to flip him off again, causing him to chuckle. “Ooh, two middle fingers. I’m really scared now.”

The two of you were too busy teasing each other to realize that the car had stopped and Sam and Natasha had already gotten out of it. A knock on the window your head was resting on made you turn around, seeing Sam’s face a little too close for your liking.

“Are you two gonna stop flirting and help us with the bags or should I let you bake in the car?” he asked. With a roll of your eyes, you opened the car door, making sure to bump Sam in the process. Bucky felt heat rise to his cheeks, glad that you weren’t looking over towards him to see it. “I’m taking this silence to mean that you do want to roast in the car.”

“Sam, would you shut up?” you laughed, casually sticking a middle finger up behind your back as you walked past him to the trunk.

“You and these middle fingers today,” Sam muttered.

“I have another one if you’d like to see it.” You grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder.

“I’m good.” He picked up his bag from the ground before heading towards the house, which the rest of the team was already situated in. You went to grab your suitcase but Bucky swatted your hand away, grabbing it himself and closing the trunk.

“I got it,” he insisted like the true gentleman he was. As much as you wanted to argue, you knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“Why thank you, good sir.” You bumped his shoulder with your own and walked ahead, jumping up the three steps to the porch and opening the door.

“All in a day’s work.” He lifted the suitcases up the steps with ease and slipped past you to get inside. The feeling of air conditioning inside the cabin was a major relief from the heat outside.

“Glad to see the lovebirds finally showed up,” Tony said once you and Bucky were completely inside the cabin.

“You better watch out, Tony. Y/N’s got middle fingers for days over there.”

“Shut up, Sam!”

A chorus of laughter rang out throughout the cabin and you made sure to shoulder check Sam as you passed him to get to the kitchen.  

---

“Okay, I have the perfect plan to get you and Barnes together this weekend,’ Natasha said as she pulled out clothes from her suitcase. You two were sharing a room for the week and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not. You loved Nat to death but lately she had been trying especially hard to get you to make a move on Bucky and it was only slightly annoying.

“The perfect plan, huh? Even more perfect than the last perfect plan?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I forgot to account for the fact you both have a tendency to wake up at ungodly hours in the morning last time. I promise it’s foolproof this time.”

“Well then, let’s hear it.”

“Alright. Before you got in here--you know, when you were busy flirting with Bucky.” She winked, to which you rolled your eyes. “Well Tony was talking about taking the boat out and going tubing. So what we have to do is get you and Bucky to go on the tube together. Tony’s a crazy driver so you’ll get thrown off pretty fast. Bucky will get so worried he’ll just have to confess his love to you.”

“Two issues.” You pointed a finger at her. “One, how am I going to get Bucky on a tube? It will be hard enough to get him on the boat alone. Two,” You held up another finger. “why would he confess his love at that very moment? That’s insane.”

“One,” She grabbed one of your fingers and put it down. “he’s whipped for you. I guarantee that if you ask, he’ll do it without a second thought.”

“Sure he would,” you scoffed.

“Uh, I know he would.” She gave you a knowing smirk. “Two, he gets worried about you all the time and I’ve seen him get close to confessing every time. We just gotta push him over the edge.”

“Bucky getting protective is just him being my best friend. He used to be just like that with Steve too.” You put your arm down, shuffling over to your own bed to take some clothes out of the blue suitcase on top of it.

“No, it’s definitely more than best friend love.” She moved to sit down on your bed.

“Either way, it usually ends in some kind of fight and I’d like to avoid that this weekend.”

“Who’s he gonna fight? Tony?”

“I mean, you never know.” It wouldn’t be the first time.  

~

“I can’t wait to get back and shove these things in my mouth,” you said with a grin as you exited the bakery behind Bucky, a bag of donut holes in your hand.

“Gee, really? It’s almost like you haven’t been talking about it for the past three days,” Bucky chuckled, reaching for the bag.

You pulled the bag away from him with a fake scoff. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister. We have to wait until we get back. The anticipation makes them taste better.”

“You’re insufferable.” He elbowed your side and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Damn, you looking fine over there, mama!”

You took in a sharp breath. It wasn’t all that uncommon for you to get cat called while out and about. You were in New York City, for fucks sake. That didn’t mean that it made you feel any less uncomfortable, though.  

As much as it stung, you didn’t want to start anything. You stared straight ahead and prayed Bucky didn’t hear it. Much to your dismay though, he stiffened next to you, subtly glancing back to see who was talking to you in such a vulgar way. Damn that supersoldier enhanced hearing.

“Hey, sweetcheeks!” You felt a tug on your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me?”

You huffed, shaking the harsh grip off your shoulder and picking up the pace. You expected Bucky to keep going with you so you continued walking, frowning when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore.

“Listen here, you little shit,” Bucky seethed, stepping in front of the man and blocking you from his sight. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Leave her, and every other woman you ever lay your beady little eyes on, alone.”

“And what’re you gonna do about it?” the man smirked. “She need her boyfriend to defend her?”

Bucky stepped closer, crossing his arms and giving the famous ‘Bucky stare.’ “Doesn’t matter who I am. You better back the fuck away before I make you life hell.”

A few onlookers started lingering around, some with their phones out and recording the scene, almost as if they wanted to see a fight break out between the two men. ‘Winter Soldier vs Everyday Pedestrian  was sure to be trending somewhere soon enough.

“Buck,” you said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and ignoring the obvious stares you were receiving, most notably from the man whose face Bucky was ready to punch in. “Let’s just go.”

You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to decide if he should let it go or punch the living daylights out of the guy. He let out a soft sigh after a moment, relaxing into your grip. With one last look at the man, he turned around and placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward.

“Aye, it’s all good. I’m sure I’ll see that tight ass ‘round here soon anyways.”

That was the last straw for Bucky. He growled with a ferocity you hadn’t heard before and whipped around, not even hesitating to use his metal arm to punch the guy. The crowd gasped, more bringing their phones out to capture what was sure to be a great fight.

“What the fuck was-” Bucky grabbed him by his collar, pushing him up again the exposed brick of a restaurant.

“There’s plenty more where that came from and, judging by the way you’re looking at me, I bet you don’t want to see it. So do the rest of humanity a favor and fuck off.” He let go of the man’s collar and stepped back, unclenching his fist and pivoting back towards you. “Come on, doll.”

You shook the shock off your face and fell into step next to him. His arm warped around you, pulling you into his side. You could feel the fumes radiating off of him as you walked back to the tower, choosing to stay quiet as you let him cool off.

You paused once you reached the entrance of the tower. Tony probably already knew about what happened and he sure wasn’t going to be happy about it. Bucky’s media presence hadn’t necessarily been bad lately, but it wasn’t perfect either. The public was still wary. To many, the Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier were still the same person.  

Things definitely felt off when you entered. You got the side eye from a few people in the elevator and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fight fiasco or because of how tightly Bucky was holding you to his side.

“Want to eat these in my room?” you asked once you stepped off the elevator.

“Sounds good.” His voice was distant as his eyes searched the room.

“Mr. Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice startled the two of you, making you drop the donut holes. “Mr. Stark has requested to see you in his office.”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll be there in a few.” He picked up the bag and handed it back to you. “Apparently, I have business to attend to.”

You simply nodded. He went in the other direction towards Tony’s office pausing at the door before knocking. You sent him a thumbs up before he went in, but he didn’t look back at you to see it. You retreated to your room, placing your wallet on the dresser and popping a donut hole in your mouth.

“Maybe I should get a plate,” you wondered aloud. You needed to grab your water bottle anyways. Might as well make the trip. You put the donut holes on your bed and started making your way to the kitchen.

“She’s perfectly capable of handling herself, you know.” You couldn’t help but stop as you heard Tony’s voice through the door of his office.

“But she shouldn’t have to.” Bucky sounded stressed and you could only imagine the hell Tony was reigning on him. “Her ignoring him wasn’t going to do anything. I didn’t want to beat the guy up but he was harassing her and it needed to stop.”

“And this doesn’t have anything to do with any particular feelings you have for her, right?” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice.

“Tony-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Barnes. You know how the public sees you. I don’t know how we’re going to fix this.”

“That guy harassed her! I couldn’t stand there and just let it happen!” God, you wanted to give him a hug so bad right now.

“I don’t care what it was, Bucky. Having heart eyes for Y/N doesn’t mean-” You took that as your cue to leave. You grabbed a plate and two water bottles from the kitchen and made sure to take the long way around to your room in order to avoid whatever was going on between the two of them.

Bucky showed up a half hour later, plopping down next to you on your bed with a little more space than usual.

~

“I’m just saying, it could work.” Nat got off your bed. “The cookout’s starting soon. Put on something cute.” She was gone before you could respond, leaving you to look for an outfit that would, as Nat liked to say, “knock Bucky off his ass.”

---

“Ooh, Y/N, looking to impress someone?” Sam called out as you walked out into the backyard. It seemed that most everyone else was already out there, helping make dinner or sitting on the dock.

You stuck up your middle finger in reply, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

“Oh stop it, Sam,” Wanda said as she walked towards you. “You look amazing!”

“Aww, thank you! You look absolutely stunning yourself.” Wanda reached out her hand and nodded towards the dock, urging you to come with her and join the group. You grabbed it and let her drag you down there, giving a small wave to Bucky as you passed him near the grill.

Bucky waved back, a grin spanning the expanse of his face at the sight of you. He kept his gaze on you as you made your way down to the dock, not even realizing just how intently he was staring.

“Someone’s staring at you,” Nat said with a suggestive smirk once you were close enough to the dock.

“He has a starting problem. We all know that,” you argued, sitting down across from her.

“I don’t know. He looks like he wants nothing more than to-”

“Nat, I love you, but please shut up.” She raised her hands up in the defense and Wanda giggled.

“I’m just saying.”

“You okay over there?” Steve shifted his focus from the burgers to his 100-year-old friend for a second, of course noticing the sudden silence that ensued the second you entered Bucky’s line of vision. “Buck?”

“Huh?” Bucky’s head turned sharply in Steve’s direction.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” A shy smile.

“Are you going to ask her out soon?” He flipped some burgers over and pulled the lid of the grill closed.

“I’m getting to it, yeesh,” Bucky chuckled.

“That’s what you’ve been saying since forever.”

“And it’s what I’ll keep saying every time you pester me about it.”

“Well if you don’t make a move soon, maybe I’ll swoop in-”

“Nope! You will not do that.” He nudged Steve in the shoulder and started making his way to the dock. “You absolutely will not do that.”

Soon. He was going to do it soon.

---

“Who’s next?” Tony called from the driver’s seat of the boat. You handed Sam a towel as he got back on the boat, drenched from flying off the tube a second earlier.

“You should go with Bucky.” Wanda nudged you with a teasing smile. You glanced over to the man in question, seeing him sitting next to Steve. He wore a t-shirt and swim shorts with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, and he looked damn good.

“I’ll go,” you announced, standing up and taking your t-shirt off, leaving you in your favorite swimsuit and a pair of shorts. You handed Wanda the shirt so it wouldn’t get wet. “Anyone wanna go with me?” Wanda jabbed your leg and gave you a playful glare.

“Go with her,” Steve muttered to Bucky, bumping his shoulder with his own.

“I don’t know, Steve.” Bucky sighed. Steve rolled his eyes, knowing that his best friend just needed a little push. 

“Bucky will go with you,” Steve said a bit louder than necessary. Bucky groaned quietly at his friend, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his seat. He made sure to give Steve a certain look before making his way towards the back of the boat. You both grabbed your life jackets and started securing them as Sam moved out of your way.

“Cyborg!” Tony called out. “You going to take your shirt off?”

You felt Nat snort as she helped you off of the back of the boat and onto the tube. “Yeah, Bucky. Why don’t you show off your muscles for your girlfriend here.”

“Nat!” You paused for a second to look back at her with fake betrayal.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He snapped the last clasp on the life vest and checked to make sure you were all the way on the tube so he could start getting on.

“Oh, come on, Buckaroo!” Sam laughed. He started a chant of “take it off” with the rest of the team (even you, though you’d never admit it).

“Fine,” Bucky grumbled, hastily taking off the life jacket and shirt. He threw the shirt to the middle of the boat and resecured the lifevest, ignoring Nat’s hand offered out for help as he climbed on the tube. His famous Bucky glare melted off his face the second he saw your bright smile and he found himself smiling too.

“I don’t know how well this is going to go but it’s gonna be fun,” you said as he grabbed onto the handles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Tony’s a crazy driver and we’ve never been able to get you on a tube before. I’m betting you’ll fly off in the first three minutes.”

The tube jerked forwards before Bucky could say anything else. You started picking up speed quickly and soon enough, Bucky was holding the handles with a death grip. You ended up being right and about two minutes in, you hit a wave that threw him off.

“Are you okay?” you asked in between laughs as he struggled to get back on.

“Yeah,” he muttered, a hint of annoyance on his face. You threw a thumbs up to Tony, who nodded and started moving again. “It’s like he’s trying to throw us off.”

“Well half the fun is falling off.”

“You people have strange ways of entertaining yourselves on Sunday afternoons.”

“What would you suggest we rather do then?”

“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t involve giving myself whiplash for ‘fun.’”

“You’re such an old man.” You let go of a handle to smack his arm. Of course, at that exact moment, you hit a wave strong enough to throw both of you off. You shrieked as you flew off of the tube before smacking the water. Whether it was the lack of paying attention or a scheme by Nat and Steve, the boat kept going, leaving the two of you floating in the middle of the lake by yourselves.

“Where are they going?” You furrowed your eyebrows, though a grin was still evident on your face.

“Are you okay?” Bucky ignored your question as he swam over to you, worriedly grabbing your face and checking for injury.

“Buck, I’m fine,” you said, though you didn’t do anything to stop his injury check. He sighed and looked towards the direction the boat went. It seemed that they were already long gone.

“That shriek had me worried there for a second, doll.” His hands dropped from your cheeks and you found yourself missing his touch.

“No need to worry. I’m all good over here.”

“Good.”

A lull of conversation fell over the two of you as you treaded water. You slowly moved closer, noses almost touching when Bucky glanced down to your lips. You nodded. I want this too.

His lips brushed over yours: eyes closed and hands dipping under the water to grab your waist.

“There you are!” you heard Sam’s voice shout. You quickly separated, looking awkwardly down at the water as you tried to focus on anything but each other. “Thought we lost you. Didn’t interrupt anything, I hope.” He smirked at Bucky.

This time, it was Bucky flipping him off.

---

You tried to be quiet as possible as you tiptoed through the hallway, hoping that you wouldn’t step on any particularly squeaky floorboards in the dark. You started opening drawers once you made it to the kitchen in search of a flashlight. Did Tony even own basic technology like that?

“What are you doing, doll?” A soft voice broke you from your thoughts. A pair of blue eyes stared back at you.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Oh, okay.”

“You look like a deer in headlights.” His lips turned into an almost smile. “Are you running away?”

“Just down to the dock. Need to clear my mind.” Nightmares.

He nodded. An unspoken understanding. Maybe that’s what made you such great friends.

“Mind if I join?”

“Sure.” You finally found a flashlight and grabbed it, sliding the drawer shut with your hip. You slid the glass door to the porch open, leaving Bucky to follow you out.  

Warmth surrounded you as you made your way to the dock. The humidity was atrocious during the day but at night, it was somehow comforting. The buzzing of bugs in the surrounding woods brought you a level of peace that the hum of air conditioning inside couldn’t. You sat down at the edge of the dock, dipping your toes in the cool lakewater.

Bucky sat down next to you a moment later. Your silence contrasted with that of the busy summer night, but it was comfortable. Nothing needed to be said; the presence of each other was more than enough.

“You know,” he started, his gaze not leaving the shoreline across the way. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

You glanced over to him for a second, taking subtle notice of his features when his guard was down. The dark circles under his eyes mirrored yours, yet he looked relaxed.

“And what if I don’t?” The slight stain of your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His head turned to meet you eyes. The soft upturn of your lips and content sigh told him that was the right answer. Your hand inched closer to his, your pinkies brushing on the splintered wood of the dock.

“How do you always know what to say?” Your gaze followed his across the lake, catching sight of a few deer grazing on the grass at the edge of the woods.

“I guess being alive for 106 years has to give me some kind of wisdom, right?”

You snorted, breaking the quiet atmosphere the two of you had created for the first time that night.

“I dunno. You’re still kind of a dumbass.”

“And you're still kind of a smartass, so where does that get us?” A grin spread across his face and there was no sight you loved more.

“God, I love seeing you smile.” A blush coated his cheeks at your words and he prayed you couldn’t see it in the dark of the night.

Your hands inched closer for a second time that night. A metal hand reached across to grab yours, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer. Your head rested beneath his chin as he rubbed circles into your side.

“Thank you,” you mumbled after a few minutes of quiet.

“For what?”

“Your face.”

His chest rumbled with laughter and he squeezed you just the slightest bit tighter. “Glad I could be of service, doll.”

“Seriously, though . . .Thank you for being around. I know we joke around a lot but it really means a lot that you’re willing to sit out here with me.”

“I mean, technically, it was more of me inviting myself than putting myself through the torture of sitting here with you.”

You pulled away from his chest, shifting yourself so you could look at him better. “For real, Buck.” You put your hands on his cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Just do it, Bucky. Now’s the time.

He let out a breath as he smiled, looking anywhere but in your eyes as he contemplated what to do next. The hand not holding your waist came to brush back a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.

“Can I kiss you?”

You looked shocked for a moment, leaving him to wonder if he’d been reading it wrong all along. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I thought that-”

You cut him off, pressing your lips against his. Your hands moved to wrap around his neck as his grabbed your hips. It was everything you needed and yet it still wasn’t enough.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen,” you breathed once you pulled away. This grin on your face mirrored his as he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to keep you as close as possible.

“Actually . . . I think I might.” He dipped back in for another kiss, this one a bit softer than the first, but just as passionate.

A sudden breeze swept through the night and you shivered. It would have been a relief from the heat if you weren’t already having chills due to the man in front of you.

“Let’s get you back inside, doll.”

You were reluctant to let go of him. The moment you’d been waiting for for so long finally happened and you felt yourself scared to be too far from him.

You shifted your weight back so he could get up, not realizing just how close to the edge of the dock you were. Bucky let go of your hips before you could warm him and you felt yourself falling backwards in slow motion. A small yelp left your lips and Bucky’s attempt to save you was futile as your hands slipped through his.

“Cold, cold, cold!” you chanted once you surfaced, barely hearing yourself over how loud Bucky was laughing.

“Are you okay?” he choked out in between his laughter, kneeling at the edge of the dock and holding his hand out towards you. You grabbed his hand with a glare.

“I have half a mind to yank you in here with me.” His eyes widened at your words.

“Don’t you dare!” You tugged his arm lightly, just enough to get his face closer to yours.

“I guess I can spare you. Just this one time.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling yourself up onto the dock. “But I think I deserve a hug for my troubles.”

“Can’t deny my girlfriend that, now can I?” He pulled you into a hug, cradling your head on his chest and pressing his lips to your hairline.

“I’m your girlfriend, huh? Damn, we’re moving fast! Do you have the wedding planned already?”

“Oh please. I think we all know we’ve basically been dating for a while now.”

“Perhaps.” The two of you stayed in that position for a moment longer before another breeze came.  “Should we go in now that we’re both wet and cold?”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea, doll.” Keeping an arm around each other, you slowly made your way back to the cabin, already making plans for a proper date once the trip was over.

---

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[gunsatthaphan]

no one asked for this but I’m still processing everything from today lol so here’s a quick rundown of my thoughts on all the series that were announced today (in chronological order; BLs (or the ones with bl elements) are marked with a 🏳️‍🌈and my favorites with a 🌟)

let me know what yall think!!!!

- The Three GentleBros: I’m definitely digging the LukeTayGun trio (and also the girls) but the mom is so toxic lol rip. The story is not bad though and it could be interesting to see them break free from her but I’m not sure yet. this could go either way. oh and also they definitely have different dads lol. 

- Unidentified Mysterious Girlfriend: this is giving me Stranger Things vibes lol and looks like Nanon is back in the sci-fi genre which I’m not mad about cuz we know he’s good at this kind of stuff but I was still hoping to see him in something different again. Him and Namtan could be a good duo though. 

- Star and Sky:  I was a bit confused by the trailer bc.... it’s like 2 series in 1? And the stories are back to back? or what. I’m not understanding the concept yet lol but lemme tell you the MekMark part of the story blew me away omg. It’s giving major ATOTS vibes but I love these kinds of stories so much. So I’ll definitely be looking forward to that. JoongDunk look good as well although Joong’s character seems a bit stiff. Hopefully he will losen up a bit. Really excited for this one nonetheless! (🏳️‍🌈🌟)

- Home School: Another dark school-themed series with the usual suspects lol. Not gonna lie I’m a bit over the “students uncovering the school’s dark secret” trope that we’ve seen a billion times already so I don’t know if I’ll be watching this one. The cast is good though. 

- Cupid’s Last Wish: We all knew this was coming but EarthMix in a rural setting is just a match made in heaven lmao. I’m still unsure about the body swap plot bc I still hate those but maybe these 2 have the power to change my mind. What I like though is the friends-to-enemies-to-lovers trope that I’ve never seen before. Also I feel like this will showcase Mix’s acting talent and I’m def ready for that. (🏳️‍🌈🌟)

- Oops! Mr. Superstar Hit on Me: Absolutely hate this one. Not feeling the story at all which is a bummer because I was excited to see Jane in something new. But this is making me all kinds of uncomfortable. thank you next.  

- My dear Donovan: the visuals of the cast are not bad but other than that I’m not intrigued. next. 

- The Warp Effect: I had to watch this 3 times to fully grasp everything that’s going on lmaooo - and Geez it’s really a lot. I feel a bit intimidated dksfds. To be honest though I can’t say I don’t appreciate them being so shameless about sexuality and sex education lol. Although the line “I want to get pregnant for my girlfriend, can I have your sperm?” will now haunt me forever lmao. So yeah this could either go well or backfire. We shall see. (🏳️‍🌈)

-  The Eclipse: LITERAL MASTERPIECE. Literally this is my personal highlight out of all the trailers. KhaoFirst is something I never expected but omg this looks amazing. It’s yet another school-themed plot which has me a bit weary but this hits different. I don’t understand the plot yet and I’m glad I don’t because this trailer doesn’t tell us anything but rather gives us a vibe and that vibe is ✨ immaculate ✨ I’m so obsessed with it already. First and Khao are two of my absolute favorites and they’re gonna kill it together I know it. A+++ I need it ASAP. (🏳️‍🌈🌟🌟🌟)

- Good Old Days: Gmmtv seems to have a thing for 3 things: 1. nostalgia 2. time travelling 3. throwing BW in the same series and purposefully not putting them together lmaoo. All of this is so funny to me you have no idea. But anyway this didn’t really have a grip on me. Next. 

- Never Let Me Go: YOOOO this is insane. The only way I was imagining PondPhuwin to come back was FUTS2 which I was already mentally preparing for. But THIS?????? Holy SHIT. I’m on the floor. The darker theme fits them SO well. I was also surprised to see Chimon in this but he fit in effortlessly as well. I literally have no words. This is gonna be epic. (🏳️‍🌈🌟)

- 10 Years Ticket: Off and Ohm could be a reason for me to watch this but other than that I’m not quite on board. 

- You Fight and I Love: YES I like this one!!!! I’m digging the JossLove ship already and also this is little Mick’s first role and he’s adorable 🥺 lol. This is going on my watchlist for sure. (🌟)

- Midnight Motel:  I would consider watching this for Off cuz he’s serving in this but I’m not a fan of the plot. So probably not. 

- Moonlight Chicken: I might’ve cried while watching this omfg. Another highlight for sure. The vibes in this are phenomenal like yes give me ANOTHER EarthMix series but this time make it sexy kjsdhfds. First and Khao are also in this which makes it even better. And there seems to be a deaf character if I saw correctly which is pretty cool as well. 11/10 obsessed already. (🏳️‍🌈🌟🌟🌟)

- Dirty Laundry: “Is my happiness a guy or money?” I mean...... mood lmao. This looks super chaotic and I can’t tell if it’s the good kind of chaotic yet lol. Jennie and Foei could be an interesting match lol but remains to be seen. 

- Vice Versa: EH. another body swap plot... hm. But will I still watch it solely bc OhmNanon are in it? the answer is yes. Also it’s a JittiRain adaption so this could end up being better than I expect. Also I really like the soundtrack!!! Bring it. (🏳️‍🌈)

- P.S. I Hate You: Not really feeling the plot but this has a potential BL sideplot so..... maybe? (🏳️‍🌈)

- My School President: If I took my glasses off and watched this trailer in full blur, I would probably think it’s *insert one of the 524 high school bls here* - Didn’t we say we’ve had enough of those? lol. Not sure if I’m into it yet. (🏳️‍🌈)

- Devil Sister & Astrophile: these 2 are yet another edition of “how can we make it clear to these fuckers that brightwin is cancelled?” lmao. Not really digging either of them though. bye. 

- You Are My Favorite: WELLWELLWELL----- what do we have here. This is for sure the shocker of the night lmao. Like holy hell. If there’s one thing I didn’t expect then it’s this. A little birdie (aka @sunsetknowsaboutyou) told me that this was supposed to be MikeToptap’s first series and idk what to do with that information HHHHH. Anyway please don’t hate me but after watching the trailer again, the plot actually does not look too bad..... I don’t know. I’m still confused about what to think of this. UGH. Anyway moving on for now. (🏳️‍🌈)

------------------------------------------

So yeah all in all I’m still overwhelmed lol but my top 3 are for sure The Eclipse, Moonlight Chicken and Never Let Me Go. EarthMix, PondPhuwin and FirstKhao were most def the winners of the night and I can’t wait to cancel all my plans I had for 2022 for them (what plans u ask? bold of u to assume i had any to begin with).

sorry this got so long. Send me an ask or drop a reply with your thoughts! I’m curious 💜 

xxx

[myelocin]

Postcards From: Kanazawa | Tsukishima Kei

Synopsis: The fear that comes with love is the realization that it isn't always just light. Love, rediscovered as both the fear and the drive that depicts the push and pull of whether it's worth it to say "I do," if the unknown is what's to come beyond the vow. In which it's a week until the wedding, and the both of you return to Kanazawa--to day one--as strangers.

Characters: Tsukishima Kei

Genre/Tags: Engagement!AU, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending | WC: 10,200+

A/N: this is a piece commed by @tsukishumai​ ;w; tq for trusting me w u and ur bb boi ily to the moon n back

playlist

commissions | ko-fi

The illusion of the soul is the false belief that love must always—always—be just light.

The truth is, it’s not. Love is many things. Primarily, love begins from desire. Then, that desire seeps into a drive that pushes you to keep wanting. Then finally, when it’s seeped in through the skin deep enough, love pools in the soul.

Love is bound to be raw at the very core. A desire. To say, “I want you,” and think it holds as much credibility as “I love you.”  To look at what you know is only the tendrils of something at the very most, and trick yourself into thinking that it’s enough. A beating heart—bloody red. The line just barely hanging in-between what’s selfish and selfless, before it ultimately sways and becomes selfish sometimes.

Sometimes, being right now, Tsukishima thinks.  

Sandwiched in-between you to the left, and Yamaguchi to his right, he finds his eyes flickering towards the clock a lot more often than he would have liked. Akaashi, who sat across from his seat on the table, was the first to catch on.  

He quirked a brow, presumably in question earlier, and mouthed the question if he was in a rush. Tsukishima’s never been known for having too many words, but because Akaashi pauses and insists to relieve his question with an answer, he shrugs, waving him off and mouthing back that he’s alright.  

“So,” Bokuto starts, his voice already slipping into somewhat of a slur. “How’s it feel to be the first to pop the question?”

You laugh, finding amusement in the man’s enthusiasm. Turning to Tsukishima, you sit and wait, expectant of a reaction.  

In response, he just shrugs, but a smile breaks through and redefines the nonchalance of his expression anyway. Raising the glass to his lips, he takes a quick sip before answering smugly, “It’s nice to finally settle down. You should try it sometimes.”

Bokuto waves him off, cheeks flushed and eyes already drooping from the inebriation. “Nah,” he slurs, shaking his head. The exaggeration warrants a quick laugh from Sugawara, who sits on the other side, nursing his own drink. Continuing, Bokuto huffs and takes a slight pause before he connects the last of what he says with, “—getting married is nice and all, but I don’t know, man,” he laughs. “Just feels like I’ll end up hitting a fucking blank space after I do or whatever. Not my vibe.”

Visibly, Tsukishima shifts a little, the smile on his face maintained but the lighthearted energy that earlier fueled it just slightly more drained now.  

From the corner of your eye, you notice it. Though, Akaashi’s the one who gives him a pointed stare, to which the former simply ignores.  

“But—“ Bokuto continues, as if trying to remedy the cracked part of the atmosphere that isn’t even visible in the first place—“If that’s your thing, then I’m obviously not going to judge you for that.”

Tsukishima responds by his silence. Bokuto, with his head still warped around the heavy state of his inebriation, doesn’t do so much other than sip a little more of his barely filled glass of beer, Tsukishima’s apathetic expression just a blur in his eyes now.  

“You seem happy, though,” Bokuto notes, then raises his glass towards you.

Blinking at being the sudden subject of his interest, you raise your own glass of water. The ice inside shifts, clinking against the sides of the glass, and slowly, Tsukishima watches. There’s familiarity in the way it moves down: trickling slow like the patience inside him that’s suddenly running by the clock. His palms just barely gripping the utensils, clammy. While his head, still whirs at Bokuto’s halfhearted words.  

It’s halfhearted, he reminds himself.

The thought of hitting a plateau after “I do,” in a way is terrifying.  

But he is happy, right?

The way his palms respond solely through tensing suddenly spikes the fear that maybe his ring will slip. So he looks at you, trying to find an anchor to keep the love he pushes to stay intertwined with his truth afloat as he responds, “Of course I am. I’m happy.”

You look back at him, eye to eye, though you find something waver just for a split second— wondering if there’s credibility in the saying that gold will always deliver truth.

-

The rest of the night flows easy.  

Almost naturally, he’s quick to wave off Bokuto’s invite for more drinks at the bar just down the street, tugging your interlaced hands towards the parking lot as soon as the group found its way to the exit.  

“You know he probably just wanted more company,” you laugh. Thirty minutes after making it back home, instead of jumping straight into the shower and getting ready for the night routine, you instead take out the suitcase and take your place, seated on the floor in the living room.  

“We needed to pack,” you hear him respond, his voice a little distant from the bedroom down the hall.  

You shrug. “Yeah, but we could have made time.”

“Sometimes we can’t just make things, if we don’t have any to make it with in the first place,” he sighs.

You chuckle. Perhaps it’s just one of those nights again. In the ten years you’ve known Tsukishima Kei, you found that he had a tendency to become a multitude of things.  

A stranger, at the start, because that’s where every connection begins. The neighbor who lived with his grandfather across the street from your childhood home. Kanazawa was a long way from Sendai, but before his parents had whisked him off to Miyagi some years later, he had been the friend that oftentimes spent his afternoons with you.  

Strawberry cake and tiny sips of boxed juice from the convenient store down the street, and not much conversation exchanged between the both of you. He’d tell you about the things on his grandfather’s old encyclopedia, and you’d listen with rapt attention, finding it nice how he seemed to carry a little bit of the stars the more his eyes gleamed. He just talked about dinosaurs, you remember. At ten, Tsukishima had always been a wonderer.  

Then he moved.  

From the friend who told you stories and shared his juice boxes with you under that tree, to the occasional email that would pop up on your phone, when you were in highschool and weaving your way in and out of pathways and dead-ends. Miyagi was a little like Kanazawa, he said. There was a lot of quiet in the two cities. His email would come once a week, then twice when you reckon he felt a little lonely.  

You’d reply with the same kind of enthusiasm as he had established, though you still couldn’t deny the fact that the notification with his name on it never failed to have you smiling—at least just a little bit. At fifteen, Tsukishima was far from a stranger, but he was also falling just a little short in making it to the halfway mark of being a friend too.  

The once-a-week emails were welcome, none the less. It stayed like that, until once a week turned into twice. Though most were just the customary how-are-yous and obligatory holiday greetings once the seasons came and went, one year it turned into emails about the little nothings.  

‘I had strawberry cake today,’ it once read. ‘The one we used to share tasted sweeter.’

‘I joined the volleyball team.’

‘Winter here is a little colder. I remember your puffy green jacket.’

‘I don’t know if you want to know…or if I should tell you...but our team won, and we’re going to nationals.’

Somehow, you were managed to be convinced by one of your friends that same week to travel with your own highschool’s volleyball team to assist in the preparation for nationals in Tokyo. It was just a coincidence, you used to reason. You were there, and so was he. There was a hundred other courts his team could have played at, and your priority was assisting your own team in what they needed.  

But still, you couldn’t help but wave back and cheer the loudest from your stands when he perfected the block and scored the winning point for the first set.

It was then, where you realized that perhaps Tsukishima Kei wouldn’t just be a stranger.  

Kanazawa to Miyagi, but somehow Tokyo became the in-between. Childhood friends to the sort-of friends from the other ends of the country sharing a few scattered memories in slices of strawberry shortcake and random dinosaur trivia from an old man’s outdated encyclopedia.  

He was the first to approach you after that match. A hand held out to shake, perhaps to commemorate the evident shift between strangers to friends—but it was nice.  

Because after that, friends turned into something more.  

Maybe Tokyo really was the middle ground. After you graduated and moved out of your respective cities, Tokyo became the third place of hello.  

Then things just slipped into place. He was here, and so were you. He had plans to stay, and you just signed the contract that bound you to the city for the next two and a half years. The apartment right down the hall from yours was recently vacated, and he was looking for a place to stay.  

His new work place, coincidentally enough, was just a stop away from the train station closest to your place.  

You had always doubted the presence of serendipity and everything that had to dictate with the celestial control of fate, but the ease that came with the relief of him signing the lease the very next week almost seemed to validate what had been just a farfetched something.  

From strangers, to friends, to lovers, then to this:

Ten years later, a ring on your finger, and an I do, bound to be said just a little over seven days from now.  

Tokyo was kind to the both of you. His mother’s close enough to visit on the weekends, while Kanazawa was just a shinkansen away from Tokyo station. A new apartment with enough space for two, plus maybe an extra, and a bakery right down the street with the best strawberry shortcake made fresh every day.  

The wedding’s just a week away. His grandfather, still living in Kanazawa was meant to travel with Akiteru to Tokyo last week, but because plans changed, the both of you were instead tasked with going there yourselves to travel with him. While Tsukishima hesitated, you didn’t. Yes was easy to say in a situation like this. Though your parents had moved to Tokyo some years ago, you were aware that his grandfather didn’t.  

The house across the street was still his, while the one you grew up in just now became a summer home your family would frequent to when Tokyo became too swarmed with tourists.  

You look at the half-filled contents of the suit case on the floor in front of you. The right side’s meant to hold your clothes, while the left was left bare for Tsukishima’s. You turn and look at him.  

“You can just grab the stuff you need me to bring for you and I’ll fold it in. We should probably catch the first train tomorrow if we wanna get there before sundown.”

What comes as a reply is only prolonged silence.  

You let what he started stay for a little, but because you had never been the type to be fond in gouging out answers from the blank spaces, you sigh, and break the impending silence before it could get a chance to even settle. “You’re quiet again, Kei.”

When he makes it to the living room, instead of coming back out with a stack of clothes, he stands by the wall with his hands in his pocket. His eyes shift from wall to wall, but skip over you.  

Knowing that you’ll just prompt another conversation again the more he keeps his silence, he sighs, swallowing the hesitation and clinging onto the bits of courage that floats by him in the moment. Grasping at the very tips of it, he forces the words out of his mouth. “Are you really coming with me?”

You raise a brow. “Back to Kanazawa? Of course. I’m from there too, you know. Plus I haven’t seen Grandpa in a while.”

He shifts his gaze to the side, thankful for the blur that came with forgetting to slip on his glasses. He’s always had a tendency to give in the moment he looks at you, so the vagueness in the blur was a welcome change. “It’s just for a week,” he mutters. “I think I’ll handle the trip just fine.”

“Plus,” he adds, the hike in the tone of his voice giving away his panic. “—I heard there was a problem with the florists? Maybe one of us needs to go in and fix it ourselves just in case.”  

In the ten years you’ve known him, you’ve always considered it a given that you’ve well perceived him by now. In front of you, he’s stammering. While Tsukishima has never been the face to poise and perfection—because at the end of the day he still is just a boy—you knew he only stammered when he was nervous.  

Perhaps trying to manipulate the situation through a wordless exchange was his way of doing so. In your head, you chuckle. Tsukishima Kei is many things, and is witty when it counts—but he could never be blunt when it came to the things he was unsure of.  

You try to gouge out his truth. Speaking straight to the point, you let him know that there’s no purpose in trying to skirt around. You turn to him, his sweater half folded on your lap. “You know I could have believed what you just said, but,” you pause, giving him a pointed look, “—you’re not even looking at me.”

“Is this about what Bokuto said earlier?”

The way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly, confirms your suspicions that that it is about that, before he can muster up the courage to even say it. “Tell me,” you initiate. You’ve never been afraid to speak what needs to be said. “What’s got you so afraid?”

Once more, he hopes for the silence to speak for him. And like before—it doesn’t. Silence was never meant to fill in the blanks. What it did, rather, is add three seconds more on the clock that’s ticking regardless. Tsukishima bets on a timed clock to speak for him, and because you’ve never been the type to shrink at the presence of raw truth, you huff and poke into what obviously hits for him just a little deeper.  

“You’re afraid we’ll hit a blank space after we get married, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t look away, but little by little, his body language starts slipping bits and pieces of the truth you’ve already long sensed. “I think I just need to think this through.”

“What?” you scoff. “You planned to go to Kanazawa by yourself for a week to what? Soul search? To decide if you even wanna marry me?”

“I’m sor—“

“That’s what you’re not supposed to say,” you interrupt him. “You don’t say you’re sorry for how you’re feeling, because you’re allowed to feel it how it is, but shit, Kei,” you exhale, pausing to suck in a quick breath. “You couldn’t have just said this earlier?”

He looks away again, the guilt evident on his features. “You’re mad.”

“Do you blame me?”

This time, he turns to you. “No,” he murmurs. “I don’t, but I’m gonna be blunt here—“

“—first time—“

He gives you a pointed look, but in the moment, you don’t really have much in you to care too much.  

“I think I need space to clear my head.”

“Sounds like you’re contemplating on whether you wanna stay with me or not,” you respond. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

Tsukishima’s steady, this time. “Of course I wanna stay with you.”

“But,” you counter. “You aren’t sure if you want to marry me.”

He looks away. “What if—we hit a plateau after.”

“That’s still not an excuse to back out before we even try, Kei,” comes your reasoning.  

“You’re right,” he sighs. “It’s not.”

Then it’s you, who shrugs this time, giving in a little and throwing him what you hope he doesn’t see as a lifeline. There’s no comfort found in knowing that an out is a means of mercy when it comes to love. Why should there even be an out?

You settle for just cracking the door open instead. Though it was never locked, the fact that it remained close must have been understood differently by him.

“Let’s go back to Kanazawa separately, then,” you propose. The open suitcase in front of you still has the right half filled with his half folded clothes, so you reach in, taking it out one by one. “You stay with your grandfather and I’ll stay at my parent’s house.”

Tsukishima raises a concern. “He’ll wonder why we aren’t staying together.”

In response, you shrug. “Just make something up then.”

“Is this just a passive aggressive way to say you’re mad at me?”

You scoff. “When have I ever been passive aggressive, Kei? I’ve said shit as it is since day one.”  

He flinches, maybe because of what you said or the tone of the deliverance, but either way, you decide you can’t give much of a shit. It’s a given that you’re angry, but because being hurt just paves the path to silence more than lashing out, it’s not much of a surprise that you probably look deflated in front of him.  

“What I’m saying is,” you explain. “Let’s go back to Kanazawa as strangers. Do what you gotta do, however you’ve gotta do it to get your head sorted out, and then we’ll talk. I’m not dancing around in circles with you on this. Either we get married next week, or we don’t.”

He panics. “I don’t want to lose you—“

“You’re already talking like you’ve decided that you won’t be at the other end of that aisle, Kei.”

Words feel lacking all of a sudden, so you pause. The absence of the split second brevity has Tsukishima standing still, his breath held, throat dry.

But like always, clarity seems to weave its way through the cracks in the room and find you first. “Yes or no isn’t easy to decide between,” you finally mutter. Eyes to the half folded sweaters you meant to tuck into the other half of the suitcase, you realize that you’ll need to switch to a smaller trolley now because you won’t be needing this much space anyway. “I don’t know what I should tell you, because I don’t know that we’d be having a possible fallout a week before the wedding. But at the same time—I don’t want to say you’re despicable for feeling like that, Kei. It just—“

“—fucking sucks,” you sigh.  

“If you feel like you need a week to figure whatever this shit is, then okay,” you nod. “Okay. Let’s be strangers for a week and by the time we’re back in Tokyo, you give me a yes or no and be fucking blunt with it.”

-

Later that night when you turn your back against him and face the wall, his whisper breaks through the quiet. “Why are you still patient with me about this? You could have just left me.”

You shift, laying on your back and sighing to the makeshift glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling of your room. “Because I love you,” you sigh. “Loving someone just means you have to exhaust every other option before even thinking of throwing in the towel.”

He sleeps that night, feeling heavy.

-

He woke up later that morning, feeling the same too.  

In a sense, things admittedly started weird. You woke up before he did this time, when he usually would be the one trying to be quiet when he slipped out of bed. Even though early mornings had never been a thing for the both of you, there was still something unpleasant in waking up to an empty bed.

The sheets on your side were done, and your phone that usually would be pinging with email notifications by now wasn’t there.  

It’s odd, he thinks. While he agreed to be strangers for a week, the walk to the train station was the same. Silence was normal, but the five extra inches that added to the distance between the both of you wasn’t. You nodded his way when he pointed at the shinkansen’s direction, and wordlessly would hand him his usual brew when you stopped at the coffee shop just before going in.  

Seated beside you in the train, he tries to ignore the urge to poke you on the side and make conversation. Words have always come easy when it came to moments with you, he noticed.

Tsukishima’s aware that he’s always been dubbed as the kind of person who never preferred to say too much, and while that was true—to an extent—he realizes that there is some truth to the saying that silence kills.  

You’re seated beside him on the train, eyes to your phone, and earbuds in place. He resorts to just staring at you through his peripherals, caught in between wanting to satiate the want to talk to you by breaking the silence, or keeping it as is.  

This is where fear grips him a little tighter. The deal was, as you had pointed out just last night, that the both of you would move through the week pretending to be strangers again. You’d stay on your side of the street, while he stayed in his.  

It’s a given that his grandfather’s bound to ask about you, and so in the event that it does happen, you would just spend a few hours with them and pretend like everything was fine.  

You made it clear that you’d try to exhaust all the options before resorting to that, though. And it’s easy, he thinks, doing so. It doesn’t take much to fake a phone call from work or a last minute meeting with an old friend that wouldn’t be able to make it to the city for the supposed wedding.  

The lines were drawn, and the outline of what was to be expected in the next week was made clear.  

He thinks of what you said before you slept. Love, as that one drive that has you exhausting all your options before even thinking of quitting. It’s fair, he thinks. You’ve always been the rational thinker in the relationship.  

But then again, he doesn’t doubt your hurt either. A week was lengthy, he realizes, and to act as strangers again just a week before the wedding was a different kind of test when it came to your patience.  

Still, he owes you truth.

You’ve always told him to lay things bare, and even though what’s bare is ugly, because love always pushes to try—he stays, doing just that.  

Undoubtedly, this is a jump. There’s no question in the fact that the possibility of reaching the peak and coming face to face with a plateau scares him. But still, his thoughts counter, to face a drop that doesn’t guarantee a landing somehow terrifies him even more.

The sound of your phone vibrating snaps him out of his thoughts. Before you answer it, he snags a look of the name written on the screen—Akiteru’s.  

Tsukishima sighs, shooting you a cautious stare as you pick up the phone and turn to him.  

The tone of your voice is easy, though you look at him, unbothered. “Hey,” you answer. “Just got in the train, so Kei should be calling you in about three hours when we’re there.”

In comes a pause, before you chuckle a little. Unconsciously, Tsukishima scooches in, curious. But before he could get a chance to lean in too close, you pull away a little, looking at him curiously, an eyebrow raised. “I meant to tell you,” he hears you say, and as you look at him, he chooses to hold your stare.

“Kei and I will be staying separately for the week.”

Beside you, he shifts, fighting the urge to turn away and face forward.  

Assuming that your flinch afterwards was only a response to what he’s only certain is Akiteru’s sudden outburst, the prior nervousness of his stare shifts into concern. Understanding the are-you-okay that he mouths, you wave him off. “We’re fine,” you laugh. “I just miss staying at the house that’s all, and I’m pretty sure Kei wants to spend quality time with his grandfather.”

You stay silent after that, which truth be told, doesn’t exactly help with his nerves.  

“He’s right next to me,” you add. “We’re fine, I swear. Just wanna enjoy Kanazawa in different ways that’s all.”

-

To put it bluntly, the first day is awkward.  

His grandfather’s waiting from outside the gate the second you make it to that familiar street. Nothing much has changed, the two of you notice. The gate’s rusted a little by the edges, and the door’s still got the same chip on the left side he always said he’d take a look at.  

“Heard they were cutting down that tree,” his grandfather says, when it’s a little over three hours later and you’re all seated at a local restaurant for dinner. His old friend owned the place, he explained. Low lights, home cooked meals, and a family run business you vaguely remember your father talking about when you were young.  

Tsukishima pauses, eyebrows rising in question. “What do you mean that tree?”

“The one you used to run off to,” he laughs.  

Elbowing him, you nod towards his grandfather before pointing out, “We met by that tree, you know.”

His grandfather’s quick to responding, laughing at Tsukishima’s perplexed expression. “Seems like your grandfather’s memory is doing better these days than you, boy.”

You suppose that at the end of the day, it shouldn’t have been a big deal that he forgot. You’ve never been one to dwell too deep within the symbolic little nothings that’s bound to come with life. Rationally speaking, maybe you’re just a little miffed because of what he said the night before. And maybe that’s the reason why you’re taking this a little harsher than you would have on a normal day.  

But strangers, you remember. Strangers wouldn’t care if the other forgot.  

So with that, you shrug. You take another spoonful of the food in front of you and shift your body just slightly to the left—to which Tsukishima took noticed—and leaned forward. Without even saying much, his grandfather already has his attention on you, the smile on his face kind.

He’s always been kind, you remember. With a smile, you choose to keep the peace in the room at bay, willing yourself to ignore Tsukishima’s stare boring holes into the side of your head from beside you.  

“Now that I think about it, I don’t remember a lot of people stop by that tree,” you comment, as you take a step into nostalgia.  

His grandfather shrugs, absentmindedly nodding his head as he mulls over your word through a spoonful of broth. “It was in the middle of a residential area. Bound to get taken down if you ask me. People nowadays need a place to park.”

This time, you really feel his stare beside you almost intensify. Truth is, you can make sense of what you know he only fears. The point in life was to brave through the unfamiliar to establish a consistency in familiar grounds. To continuously rise from day one, only to hit the peak and possibly come face to face with a plateau instead of something greater than even the height of all highs—you admit that it’s terrifying.  

The plateau, that perhaps works sort of like that tree.  

It’s been there, so here it still is.  

You’ve both been at that tree—at the start—so here you both still are. Side by side back in Kanazawa, sharing a meal like I do, isn’t hanging on the line.

His grandfather’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “You’re not wearing your ring.”

Tsukishima’s voice is quick to cut into the conversation, his voice smooth. “She just doesn’t wanna lose it.”  

You nod along to his lie, undecided with how to feel in regards to how smooth he seemed to have delivered his lie.  

“You know, now that I think about it, it’s good that they’re cutting down that tree.”

Tsukishima speaks his mind this time. “Last week, you said you were looking forward to coming back home so you could visit that tree again.”

You don’t look at him when you answer. “I know, but your grandfather has a point. When things change, what else can you do but get rid of it?”  

“Oh nothing’s changed,” he laughs across you. “Even before the two of you were born, people would always talk about how it’s just there when the space could have been used for parking.”

“Then why put off cutting it down this long?”

“Who knows,” he laughs. There’s an unfound wisdom in his eyes that read through your soul when he looks at you. “Maybe cutting down what people already see as a permanent fixture will do more harm than good in the long run.”

“Even if it doesn’t contribute anything?”

Tsukishima thinks of his fear, then of the plateau.  

Through the rim of the glass, he keeps a steady eye on his grandfather, breath held as the anticipation for his words begin to really settle.  

“People these days just see what’s the most obvious from the surface and consider it as the only fault then run with it. Maybe it’s not the tree,” he laughs. “Maybe it’s just the people. They want convenience so they cut off everything around them instead of adjusting to it.”

The food tastes bland in his mouth, suddenly.

“Goes to show how selfish people can get sometimes,” his grandfather finishes, as an afterthought. “A shame, really. That old tree’s done nothing but give people shade.”

-

At the end of the day, you really had to give his grandfather a lot more credit than what was due.  

The second and third day was awkward. Even though you tried to stay inside for most of your day, venturing outside and meeting up with old friends was inevitable. And really, you should have remembered that he often started his day with a couple laps walked around the block.  

On day two, he hinted that he could sense something was off. Tsukishima had been a lot more silent lately, he pointed out. First, as just a passing comment, then by the third time he’d bring it up and wouldn’t get too much of a response out of you, there came more emphasis to what he says.  

He passed by the tree every time you’d round the street too. It occurs to you that passing through it was a shortcut, and contradicted his prior statements to having a route that catered towards the long way home, but you chose to not comment much about it.  

The second day was curiosity, and you figured that you could live at least just a week with it.  

The third day, on the other hand, gave you a little more trouble than you had bargained for.  

You’re on your way home from an old friend’s house, and ironically enough, both Tsukishima and his grandfather are out by their front door, tending to the weeds of a garden that doesn’t even look remotely grown.  

Tsukishima’s the first to look at you.  

Stubborn, and frankly intent on upholding your end of the deal in staying strangers, you attempt to wave them off with a passing greeting as you look through your bag, feeling around for the keys to the gate.  

“You don’t have to think of an excuse,” you hear him say. “He’s back inside now. It’s just you and me here.”

It’s funny how ever since you’ve made it back to Kanazawa, he’s been the one to break the silence a lot more lately.  

You don’t turn. Strangers, you think. The deal was to pretend the other was a stranger.  

“Cam,” he calls out again, the desperation in his voice inching more and more out of its shell. “I’m really sorry.”

You turn around, the buried anger getting the best of you in the moment. “You know the more you say that, the more convinced I am that I should just give you back your ring right now and go back to Tokyo alone. You talk like the only thing you’re sure of is the fact that you won’t be marrying me next week, Kei.”

The moment you shift your gaze from the ground to his eyes, a part of you aches at the idea that you may have to bid farewell to gold. Swallowing down the mass of emotions you hope isn’t entirely just made of anger, you steady yourself and sigh.  

It hits you that it’s been a long day.  

“It’s just you and me here,” you repeat, slowly. There’s a flutter in your heart that tells you it’s still love that stares back when you look at him. “Then why do you feel so far away, Kei?”

-

He doesn’t sleep that night.  

Day three of being strangers, but he hasn’t had anything figured out. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but what only grew was the silence. The distance is really just a few feet away—across the street and through the leaves of that tree that your father would always say he’d get to.  

The light from your room is still turned on, though the curtains are drawn.

8PM and it’s early. 8PM, and on a usual day, you’d usually be seated beside him in your Tokyo apartment’s living room, mulling over the nothings that went on in your day.  

It’s nice to talk about the rest of the world as if all they’re meant to be is just a passing blur in the background, he thinks. He’s never been much for words, but you were.  

Then again, you had always been one for truth.  

Reality is, he knows he could always swallow his doubts, walk across the street, cover the distance, and apologize to you with an I’m sorry, that covers all that needs to be addressed in a standard apology. Life can be lived as easy as that. You swallow your own thoughts, adhere to what they say needs to be done in the way they tell you how to do so, and be done with it.  

But he knows you just as well as he knows himself.  

You’d call him a coward—and truth be told, he’ll think the same.  

Present wise—he does think he is a coward.

Tsukishima sighs, knowing that blinking at your closed curtain visible from his window won’t do much of a difference. Begrudgingly, he sits up, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table.  

The streets around the neighborhood are quiet this time of night. The perks about living away from the city was the silence, he thinks. As soon as he tugs on a sweater, he makes his way downstairs, carefully, so he doesn’t stir his grandfather he presumes is sleeping on the room across the hall.  

He exhales, relieved at the barely audible creak the door clicks to as soon as he shuts it and turns the lock from the outside. The keys, jingling in his pockets, is the only sound that rings in the quiet.  

It isn’t lonely, but it isn’t comfortable either.  

Kanazawa has always been a town he’s considered as a piece of constant that’s meant to drift inbetween.  

Neither like Tokyo or the towns by the outskirts of Okinawa, it stays as is. Twenty years ago, the crack on the sidewalk was there, and now, twenty years later, it remains.  

There’s comfort in recognizing constants, Tsukishima admits. The tree just down this road, the crack on the asphalt, and the fact that your room is still the second window to the left visible from his on the second floor.  

When he was younger, he remembers he often would stand under your window, caught in between wanting to knock on your door and ask permission from your parents if you could accompany him for the afternoon, or just wait around until you’d come down yourself.  

While he left a lot of things on chance, the conscious choice to stay rooted in the spot by your window remained constant.  

The gravel under his feet crackle everytime he’d take a step. The moon’s hazy behind the clouds tonight, he muses. While you’d wish for the stars, he found a temporary safety in the midnight clouds. A timelessness felt when it’s midnight, stays.  

Before he turns to the corner that would lead home, he stops midway—recognizing the tree from a good few meters away.  

There’s a sense of feeling an urgency to let something go, the more he stares at it. Nearing autumn, the colors start to change, and just like that, he’s reminded of the impermanence in life.  

As the earth eventually changes throughout the years, he fears that perhaps in love—it would too.

-

“You’re out late,” is the first thing Tsukishima hears as soon as he enters the room.  

From the genkan, he peers over the shelf, noticing the lights from the kitchen is what floods into the dim living room. Slipping on his house slippers and making his way around the corner, Tsukishima gets a feel of the warmth that’s radiating from the familiarity of the space.  

After his grandmother had passed, his grandfather stayed in Kanazawa. Though his mother often expressed her desire for him to move with the rest of the family in Tokyo, every time, he’d only wave them off and say that there’s too much rooted here for him to just up and leave.  

Walking into the kitchen, his grandfather’s the first to raise a mug his way and offer a smile. “I’d ask you if everything’s fine, but I think I’ll just wait around and see if you’re even willing to tell me.”

Tsukishima chuckles airily. “Sounds like you wanna ask anyway.”

He takes a slow sip. “Okay then,” he nods, smiling like he’s just struck a deal. “First question is—are you okay?”

In response, Tsukishima smiles, pulling the chair and taking the seat across his. He nods. “’Course I am.”

His grandfather’s eyes don’t leave him. “You’re not wearing the ring, and neither is Cam.”

Suddenly feeling like he’s caught in between a blocked exit and the spotlight, Tsukishima freezes, but wills himself not to look away. “Just needed some space, that’s all.”

“To think?”

He sighs. “To reconsider.”

“Ahh,” the older man sighs. “Cold feet. Pretty normal, if you ask me.”

He raises a brow in question. “It’s normal?”

“To be nervous, yeah,” his grandfather laughs. “But looks like it’s a different case for you.”

Tsukishima doesn’t respond, his eyes fixated towards a spot on the wall that feeds more into the blank space of his thoughts than anything more.  

“You’re afraid,” Tsukishima hears, and as soon as the retaliation he tries to string together at the very last minute don’t come—he realizes the core of all the chaos in his head is meant to be just like that—

Blank.

“What are you so afraid of, boy?”

In the silence, he lets the rawness of his truth slowly spill. “What if I hit a plateau after this?”  

His grandfather wastes no second in countering.  “How is it life if we just keep climbing? What’s the point in doing all that work if we never get rest?”

Tsukishima laughs. “You know, by that logic it can just go the other way around too.”

He settles in his seat, trying to appreciate the silence instead of looking for company in the noise, before he adds, “What if we decide we don’t love each other anymore?”  

“That’s not all there is to a plateau,” he laughs. “It’s a valid fear, but being afraid isn’t all there is after you marry someone.”

“Then what’s there?”

With a smile, his grandfather leans back, raises the mug to his lips, and relaxes—his eyes looking fondly at a faded photograph hung beside the wall clock. “Everyday,” he answers. “What’s there after I do is just everyday.”

Sensing that his grandfather means to say more, he chooses to retain his silence. Sighing softly, his grandfather keeps his smile steady as he continues to speak. “Everyday you wake up. You roll over in bed, you think about the checklist you do to consider a day done, then you come home, eat a meal, rest a little and start the whole day over the next day. Everyday’s like that.”

He shifts, leaning forward with his arms crossed supporting his weight on the table as he eyes his grandson with a smile. “Best part is, you can do all that with someone you love. Makes the boring part of the plateau a lot more bearable.”

“You wake up with them and complain about how boring the rest of your day will be, then come home and eat a meal with them. Wash the dishes, share the silence, and just go to bed knowing you’ll wake up with somebody.”

The smile on his face is honest, then he shrugs. “It’s nice, though. The plateau after you hit a certain point in life is just inevitable, Kei. You can either complain about life alone or complain about it with somebody. At least there will be two pairs of slippers by the genkan waiting for you everytime you come home. You’ll say you’ve made it home and someone will greet you. You’ll roll over in bed at 2am and someone will be there with you. The point of climbing in life is to get somewhere, not ascend past the norm.”

Tsukishima stays quiet, pondering over the truth in his grandfather’s words. “So life’s just meant to stay in the middle?” he asks, slowly coming into terms with his grandfather’s redefinition of the plateau.  “Life’s meant to find a consistency in everyday,” he corrects.

A few moments pass before he stands back up, pointing to the counter with a thermos. He knows it’s yours. The old one that your mother refused to throw away, because there’s a crack by the lid and a couple faded sailor moon stickers stuck by the side.  

“Look at that,” Tsukishima hears. He turns his head just in time to see the old man offer him a patient smile, the message in his eyes delivered without a hitch. “That old thing’s seen a couple of decades, but it still gets to you when you need it, right?”

It’s not so bad to have an old thing be your constant, right?

-

Twenty minutes after his grandfather climbs back to his room upstairs, Tsukishima’s seated on the side of the table beside the window. Peeking through the half-opened blinds, he can still see that the light from your room is still flicked on.  

Without mulling over the decision, he takes his phone out, scrolling through the contacts until he taps your name. A swipe without too much pressure, because even his thumb’s memorized where your name is by now. Kind of like muscle memory, he supposes.  

Bypassing the unannounced rules about what to do as the strangers you had claimed from the start of this week, it results to the lack of hesitation as he types a quick text and presses send without a thought that would counter it.  

I love you, it reads.  

From his spot in the kitchen, he leans back and smiles, pouring himself a cup of the tea he knows you brewed yourself on the nights where he can’t sleep.

The lights from your room stay on for a few more moments before it dims, but before the metaphoric silence could take root, the screen of his phone lights up.

Stop walking around at night. Drink the tea and try to get some sleep.

Exhaling almost in relief, it’s the slow beating of his heart that resettles him back into the love he’s known everyday.  

It’s not quite the end, but it isn’t exactly somewhere unpleasant either.

-

Two days before you’re meant to return to the city, instead of spending the day in your room—like you had initially planned—you somehow found yourself in the passenger seat of his grandfather’s old car, with a grocery list in hand.  

You sigh, understanding what his grandfather’s trying to do.  

As you look down, there’s nothing much written in the grocery list. He had complained about some back pain earlier, followed up by his insistent request of desperately needing his groceries done so when Akiteru was to arrive later on, dinner would be taken care of.

Beside you, with his hands on the wheel, Tsukishima sighs. “We could have just ordered in food for dinner. It’s just Akiteru coming,” he mumbles.  

Keeping your eyes to the window to your left, you shrug. “He likes making the ordinary special, I guess.”

Tsukishima stays silent after that, mentally thankful for the green light and the empty roads. The more stops, the longer silence would stay. And even after the sort of middle ground from the night before, he doesn’t know what to say to you.  

After making a quick turn, he pulls up into the parking lot and kills the engine. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he turns to you, with an expectant look. “You can just stay here if you don’t wanna go in with me,” he offers. “It’s a short list, I can be in and out in a bit.”

You wave him off, already slinging on your bag and opening the car door—the list on your hand. “It’s alright. I think I’m more familiar with this area than you are, so we can just meet back in the car in thirty minutes if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t need me to come with you?” he raises a brow.

You shake your head no, but upkeep the smile on your face anyway as you exit the car and close the door.  

-

Something about what you say sticks with him, the more he thinks about it.

He can distinguish the hesitation laced each of your decisions. You look past him, but not exactly at him. You speak to him, but keep the conversations short. Though conversation was rare between the both of you this past week, the times that you did speak to him, your words often were clipped short.  

It’s your means of upkeeping your end of the deal, he realizes.  

You’ve always been one for communication, but then again, patience can only stretch so much.  

He respects your wish for distance and walks the opposite way from the grocery store, towards a building he doesn’t really known. It’s a gallery, he realizes. Three steps past the entrance, he notices that he’s one of the few that’s in the room.  

Traditional artwork line the wall, hung in frames that have rusted throughout time.  

Tsukishima stares, eyes drawn to the pieces of art he recognizes from the few scattered memories in his childhood that relate to his time in the city.

A fieldtrip, when he was seven. He remembers leaving the house upset over the yellow hat he had to wear, and the rain boots his teacher wouldn’t let him change out of. Unlike the present, rain was present that day. He stood beside you in line, and had to tilt his head up at the piece of art he always thought was the prettiest out of the bunch.  

And now, almost two decades later, he still thinks the same.  

He smiles at the memory, finding the comfort of returning to what’s familiar, pleasant.  

As if caught by an epiphany, and suddenly enveloped in a sense of a rediscovered home, here, within a room that’s familiar, he finds purpose in the permanence of love.

Love, that’s never meant to be stretched into the likeness of what the poets declare as the absolute form of love after “I do.”

Staring at the piece of art with the rusting frames, the strokes within the canvas still depict the same story. It still is beautiful.  

It’s doesn’t become more—but it stays as is.

And maybe that’s what his grandfather was trying to convey.

To fear a certain phase in love is something that comes and goes, but it often never stays. It can linger, but eventually, it too, fades.  

What stays is what’s rooted.  

Primarily, just you. Truly, just love.

That tree in that old street, these paintings on the walls, and the kind of serenity that washes over him at the thought of you.  

The fear in life comes in the form of thinking that beyond the peak lays a plateau. Beyond “I do,” what’s next to come is love, dwindling until “I don’t love you anymore,” is the only thing left to be said.  

It’s fear, that spoke to him the past few weeks, so this time, as he gives in, he listens to love.  

It’s quiet.

But through the smoke in the room, the message that’s meant to deliver truth comes in full clarity. Illuminated, it appears before him as it is. A painting that’s struck him as beautiful then and now, and the thought of you as the face that’s always been the first to greet him every morning for more than just a few years now.  

An old man stands not too far from him, hands clasped behind his back as he stares—with a smile on his face—at a similar painting on the wall. Sensing Tsukishima’s presence, he looks over and redirects the smile his way. “Been coming here for years, and looking at this still feels the same.”

Poking at the doubts, Tsukishima responds, “Are you afraid that it won’t get old?”

The gentleman laughs, though soft enough so it doesn’t echo too much in the halls. The joy lingers around Tsukishima, on the other hand. “To have something grow old with you isn’t a bad thing. Day one, this piece was beautiful, and now, almost forty years later, I look at it and think the same too.”

A beat of silence passes, but the man speaks once more.  

“My wife, when she was alive, showed me this piece. Maybe I look at this and still find it beautiful after all these years because I think of her, but I don’t think trying to focus on that matters much. The feeling’s the same, even if it grew old.”

Reciprocating the older man’s goodbye with a nod to the head, it’s then where he laughs, a little bit more of the truth unraveling as each moment comes and goes. Thinking of his words, he dwells on its meaning.  

Standing there, alone in the museum hall, the smoke clears, and he presents himself his words of blended truth and patience.  

Love is timeless, his thoughts say. The plateau after the peak is as possible as the drop, but life’s meant to be lived in the lows and in betweens as much as the highs. Time moves in waves, and perhaps love doesn’t always grow stagnant. It can be timeless, even though the frames rust. His hair will grey, and maybe you’ll stop linking your pinky with him beneath the sheets during the rainy season’s thunderstorms, but the root of love stays.  

Within the plateau, time will move, and you’ll both grow old, but the taste of the tea you’ll brew for him will remain the same.  

And thirty minutes later, when he makes it back to the parking lot with you waiting by the door, the love that steadies his beating heart will be the same too.  

Steady, present, and timeless.  

-

Eyeing the dashboard, you’re the first to break the silence. “Why’d you buy a postcard?”

Rolling into a stoplight, he eases on the brakes and shrugs. “Lived here for so long, and I don��t even own a postcard from here.”

“Me neither,” you blink.

A couple minutes pass, and the car’s rolling again, but he misses a turn. Assuming that he’s just not used to the usual route, you stay quiet—until about he pulls up to a familiar street.  

Parked to the side, through the windshield, you find yourself face to face with a familiar tree. “Kei.” He hums.  

The coming autumn has a few leaves beginning to change its colors, you notice. The summer hues, unbalanced, as bits of red begins to bleed through the green. “You were supposed to turn there, not here.”

He shifts the gear into park, then takes his hands off the wheel, leaning back. “I know.”

It’s quiet after that, but it isn’t all that unpleasant either.  

This is the part where the questions begin to poke at you, the what-ifs in love let out in the open as you voice a little bit of your vulnerability. And because the truth is daunting, you hope he understands you through the metaphors. “Do you really think they’ll cut it down?”

He doesn’t allow the silence to take more than a moment. “I think so,” he nods his head.

“It’ll be good though, I think,” you add, nodding your head.  

It’s quiet in the room even though the words of your truth coaxes the unhealed wound to resurface. As it comes into light, it doesn’t sting.  

Sitting shoulder to shoulder beside him in the car, the tree that witnessed the first hello stays rooted, and watches.  

He doesn’t turn to you as he speaks, but in a way, you feel as if a farewell was the finale that was meant to be delivered somehow. “It’s good,” he starts. “Letting go of something that needs to be let go of.”

-

Tokyo

-

Tsukishima’s the first to speak.  

“I’m not good with words,” he starts.  

There’s a hush in the crowd, so you stay with it, knowing you’ll only add to the silence should you choose to respond. It wasn’t your turn anyway, so you will yourself to be still and listen.  

“Hey Cam,” Tsukishima continues, choosing to begin his vow with a hello. “I think a lot about what love’s supposed to have meant, mean, or eventually mean in the long run. I thought too much about it to the point where it…” he trails off, blinking at the piece of paper before flicking his eyes up to you with a slight shrug. “—to the point where love began to scare me.”

For a brief moment, he closes his eyes, confident in the fact that when he opens them, he knows he’ll see the world in clarity this time. With the smoke cleared and the scattered pieces of all his doubts set in order, the words of his truth may not speak of the most tender poem of love—but within the lines lies his truth.

As he lays his truth on you, he holds a breath and lets it all go. “I wanna wash the dishes with you for the rest of my life,” he laughs, exhaling softly, his shoulders shaking a little. “Never occurred to me how much of a liar the downside of your thoughts are when you listen to everything that isn’t love,” he continues.  

Your shoulders relax, and even through the blur of the veil, you can tell his eyes are steadily watering.  

“I’m sorry,” he says, the microphone just barely picking up what he says. You nod your head anyway, wishing you were holding his hands instead of the bouquet. Reassurance comes in many forms, but you know he’s always been the type to receive it well through physical touch.  

A kiss on the cheek, your head on his shoulder, or your hands squeezing his. But the smile you give him suffices for now, you think.  

“I wanna wash the dishes with you for the rest of my life. I’ll wash, and you dry. Nothing much happens in our day usually, but nothing has to. I’ll listen to you talk about how shit the traffic is in the city, because I know you’ll listen to me talk about the same complaints I have from Monday to Friday anyway.”

You realize he’s written his vows in the back of a postcard—the one you saw on his dashboard a few days ago, from Kanazawa.  

He sniffles a little then looks up, laughing to himself at how emotional he’s getting. Allowing more than just truth to trickle out slow is a part of love too, he realizes, so with a soft laugh, he lets the tears be and speaks again. “What needed to be let go of was let go of,” he exhales, like he’s been holding his breath for this long.  

In a sense, maybe he has. Sometimes fear grips you tightly enough that it shifts your point of view from one thing to another. What’s love, becomes fear. Then what’s fear, becomes the smoke that buries the core of truth too deep within the haze.  

“I let go of the thought the thought that after marriage, if nothing great would come then that would be the end of love,” he breathes. “I stared at that tree and thought of Grandpa’s words again and again then wrote my apology and I love you on the back of a postcard that only had one a couple of blank lines at most.”

He waves it for you, then to the crowd, to see. The words, jumbled up together look almost incomprehensible written so closely together, but in a way, you have a feeling that he’s just speaking the rest of his truth as it comes in the moment.  

The truth in love, you realize, is that its truth comes, fully unraveled the moment the initial plan falls apart.  

He puts down the postcard, and just looks at you.  

“There’s a lot I don’t think I will ever understand when it comes to love, but maybe I’m here to just feel it and not try to decipher it.” He pauses, ignores the few tears that roll down, and shrugs his shoulders, admitting to himself that the truth in his love is the first thought that comes.

“Love doesn’t have to the greatest,” he tells you. “I just wanna wash dishes with you for the rest of my life and hear about how traffic was unbearable.”

You smile, and your assurance reaches him.  

“I think that counts as love too,” he finishes, the smile on his face tender.

-

As he leans in after I do, he murmurs a question in your ear that you’ve been expecting since the start.

You could have just left, he said. How did you deal with me and still choose to stay?

Your answer was said without a hint of hesitation. With a shrug, and an honest smile, you told him, “Because I love you.”

“I think we both had to let go of the thought that to love always means to have the biggest reasoning behind it. We do things for love, and because of love. That’s just how it is,” you shrugged.

Oddly enough, it’s in that same exact moment where he remembers Bokuto’s question from that dinner a week and some days ago.  

How does it feel? he recalls, and even though words have never found him first nor met him in the middle easy, he gathers what he can and just settles on the conclusion that it just feels like love.

Wherein love, is this.

An identical band on his and your finger, and the taste of I do pleasant on the tongue. I love you, as a truth that’s easy to fathom and healing to hold, and the fear of what comes next just a passing thought that goes as soon as it comes.  

Later that evening his grandfather sits him down and asks him what he really thinks about why people have been putting off cutting down that tree for a few decades now.  

With a laugh, the hesitation that often turns decisions is made clear to him. “You know I think that people would decide things and think they’re so solid on it before even being face to face with it. The second they get to that tree with a chainsaw, I promise you they changed their minds. You think you go there and cut off or let go of one thing, then realize you’re cutting off something else in the end. They go back to what’s been there and realize that it’s not the problem at all.”

Tsukishima sighs, and his grandfather watches, the smile on his face easy. It’s like watching some emerge from a smoked out room, he thinks. Clarity’s always been a blessing, and he’s glad his grandson’s finally found it.  

“Sometimes going back to the start is the one thing you need to be reminded that it’s worth it to keep going.”

“Sounds like you’re not talking about the tree,” his grandfather comments.  Looking at you, Tsukishima smiles. “You could say that too.”

[ktinastrikesback]

Alright, here it is: The meta post about Eddie Diaz and mother figures and how it all leads to Buddie (I think). Thanks to @yramesoruniverse for your help with this, and @kitkatpancakestack and @evanbucklies for inspiring it! I really have been thinking about this nonstop and had to get it all down. This got quite long, so I'll include a cut in order to spare everyone who doesn't want to continue reading!

We first get an idea of Eddie's complicated thoughts surrounding mother figures throughout his whole storyline with Shannon in season 2 when he romantically reconnects with her for Christopher's benefit. I do want to keep the focus here trained on Eddie in season 4, but I want to point out a season 2 line that is pretty fitting. As much as I don't want to use a Shannon quote as a starting point for a meta, I think this one is actually pretty useful: "...Eddie always knows what's best for everyone...God forbid you stop for a second and actually ask them what they need." While it's harsh and spoken out of spite, Shannon does make a point here which becomes relevant at the end of season 4.

We don't know a whole lot about season 4 Eddie (thanks writers) aside from the fact that he's working on being a single father (he tells Marjan in the crossover that he's "doing the whole single dad thing") and being a support system for Buck and the rest of the 118. Eddie's "arc" this season is moving on from Shannon and beginning to date again (a very small and limited arc, which hopefully season 5 will remedy). Of course, because it's Eddie, the core of this arc is him wanting what is best for Christopher. And it seems pretty clear that what Eddie thinks Chris needs is a complete family with a mother figure (note how he asks Bobby if he's "happy now, with Athena and the kids" and just assumes that Bobby is talking about Ana Flores), but the universe pushes against this idea throughout the whole season. There are a lot of examples in season 4 of unreliable mother figures (for example, the alcoholic mother who causes the wreck in Blindsided), but in order to save some space here, I'll list and discuss those in another post. The main thing I want to point out is that we've seen that mother figures aren't always perfect, and they aren't the end all be all that Eddie thinks. And canonically, the show suggests several times throughout the season that the partner that Eddie needs/wants and who is best for Chris is actually Buck.

In Breaking Point, while Eddie is on his date, it's Buck who is at home taking care of Christopher and getting him through his nighttime routine (which establishes that he knows the routine and has gotten Chris ready for bed before, hence the reference to his "cautionary tale"). On the date, when Ana says that no one has been in his life since Shannon passed away, Eddie noticeably looks uncomfortable (the will reveal makes this scene and that particular comment and Eddie's subsequent reaction so rich. Eddie knows that what Ana is saying is completely untrue, because the person he trusts most with his son is with him at that exact moment). Later, when Eddie tells Christopher about his new 'friend', he says "it's a woman." And...to be honest, what the hell was that? He could have said, "I'm dating someone" or "I have a girlfriend." But he says it like this? And it's weird...right? Christopher is the one who has to say "girlfriend." Also his tone of voice when he says it...it's suspicious to me. Anyways...Eddie talks with Ana about Christopher's reaction and her first instinct is to take a break and wait for Christopher to warm up to the idea so as to not cause him more pain. Meanwhile, Chris is out the door, in an Uber, and on his way to Buck, the person who actually gets Chris to talk about his feelings and who fixes the whole mess. So while Eddie is talking with Ana, Buck is playing a parental role AND promising Chris he isn't going anywhere, completely juxtaposing everything Ana has said and done in this episode (throwback to Fools, anyone?). Just like we see in 4x14, the perfect partner that Eddie is looking for is already putting in the work, no questions asked (and this is all before Buck knows about the will!). Yet Eddie is still trying to force it with Ana.

We see this again very briefly in Parenthood. Eddie and Buck are seen agreeing on parenting ideals on a call, similar to how we saw them work together in Future Tense to talk Chris out of playing video games. At the end of the episode however, when Chris asks to join the movie, Ana just jumps ahead and lets him in, not consulting with Eddie. Of course, this isn't a serious issue and Eddie is happy to have Chris join them, but it still carries on with juxtaposing Ana with Buck. It's also a bit interesting that Chris sits between them, parallel to the video game scene from season 3. But again, it's a very brief scene, so I don't know how much value it has overall.

We see all of this come to a head in 4x13 when Eddie becomes invested in the single mother and her son from the balcony call. Interestingly, this call happens after Eddie's conversation with Carla ("make sure you're following your heart"). On the call, Eddie flirts with the mom. This is interesting because we've seen many times in the past that Eddie...doesn't like flirting, especially on the job. Eddie openly flirting with the mom here may be his way of fighting against what his instincts are telling him Carla's comment was about (him liking Buck/a man). Eddie quickly becomes invested in Charlie (the son) and takes a liking to his mother because he relates to her. You can kind of see the gears working in Eddie's head when he's at their apartment...he's admiring her and perhaps maybe fantasizing about having a partner who gets it. And he sees a mother taking care of her son...reinforcing his love for the mother figure. But of course, we all learn by the end of the episode that this mother figure is extremely warped and not at all what her child needs.

The best part about this plot is the way it plays into the shooting scene at the end of the episode. Just before he gets shot, we see Eddie in an interesting framing choice (I am genuinely serious when I say that I want to sit down with Brenna Malloy and ask her about her directing choices for this whole scene):

The mother and son are placed into separate ambulances, and Eddie stands between the two vehicles. Visually, Eddie is literally placed between the mother figure and the son, and Buck is standing in front of him (at a slight distance). As (thank you to @kitkatpancakestack for pointing this out!) the ambulance with the mother drives away, Eddie says "shoulda gotten here sooner" to Buck (who replies, "That kid is just lucky he met you." He knows how to reassure Eddie and recognizes what is good for the child). Then of course, Eddie gets shot. But let's focus instead on why this framing before the shooting is important: the universe does scream, and it sure as hell was screaming at Eddie this whole episode. Carla calls him out for not following his heart, he idolizes this mother only for her to end up being horrid, then he gets shot with his partner standing right in front of him (you know, the same person who takes care of his son for the entirety of the next episode).

This can be read so plainly: Eddie has been fighting hard for what he thinks is best for his son, and he's stuck in this relationship with Ana because he thinks she is what will make Christopher happy. Meanwhile, Buck is in front of him and has been there the entire time putting in the work with Chris and making him feel heard, loved, and important. This ties right back to that Shannon line: if Eddie had simply asked Christopher what he needs/wants, it's very possible that his answer would be "Buck." Eddie doesn't need to be stuck in the middle of this relationship he doesn't care about because Chris' happiness is not dependent on having a mother figure.

Of course, we didn't see very much of Eddie in 4x14 so we don't really know what is going through his head regarding the shooting or Carla's comment just yet, but I'm hoping we see a lot of him working through all of the events that took place in 4x13/14 throughout next season. Because of the way the mother/son storyline ended up and the way they framed Eddie in the shooting scene, I'm willing to bet that he's going to be reevaluating just what Christopher needs and what he already has (with his Buck).

(Also side note--the welcome home party scene...when Buck is watching Eddie greet Christopher, notice the framing there too. The photo of Chris and Shannon is on the right side of the frame, Eddie and Chris in the middle, and Buck to the left. You already know what I'm going to say, so I'll leave it at that...)

Anyways. Edmundo Diaz is confused about what he and Christopher need, and it's actually a brilliant way to dive into a storyline about his sexuality and his feelings for Buck. Remember that post-finale interview with Tim where he said Eddie is always concerned with what's best for Christopher? That there will be a lot to explore with Eddie? I take everything Tim says with a grain of salt, but looking at all of this, there's quite a bit here pointing in the direction of pining Eddie. It's not wishful thinking, it's in the text.

I'm literally just applying basic film analysis to these scenes...and everything is adding up to a larger picture. I'm really excited to see what Eddie's arc in season 5 will be because there's so much set in place for it to be really great.

[coolfire333]

Angel-devil parallels with Spamton and Jevil making me go nuts there's literally so much to dissect here, hhhhhhh thinking about them forever...

Sidenote, I think it's really funny if Jevil feels neutrally towards Spamton and just likes to bug him, but I'd also not be surprised if they both hate each other equally and Jevil just doesn't express it as clearly as Spamton.

Anyways, but it makes so much sense why they clash with each other so much, Spamton wants to play the role of an "angel" (representing heaven, needing absolute control and order) while Jevil wants to play the role of a "demon" (association with hell, embracing chaos as a way to cope with having relinquished control).

It's so interesting that despite representing opposite forces (heaven and hell), both of them are villains. I think that's related to the underlying theme in deltarune about not having a choice in the world. I think you could also argue that both of them have sort of a "fallen from grace" situation going on, with Spamton wanting to redeem himself (reinforced with heavenly themes) while Jevil doesn't really mind that he's been "corrupted" so he embraces the more “hellish” aspects of himself.

ALSO something interesting is that both of them transform during their final boss fight. Jevil turns himself into the devilsknife for certain attacks, becoming something more "demonic" than his original form, while when Spamton becomes neo, he gains a new "angelic" body with wings and flies (well, he’s kind of suspended up there by his strings). 

"Neo" means "new", and when Jevil transforms he audibly says "metamorphosis", so I think this also tells us that their respective transformations into their current states (whether that was Gaster's doing or someone else) is a sort of rebirth for them.

This makes me sad though, because Spamton seems pretty distressed and unsatisfied in literally every state he's in...despite neo giving him a lot of power, what he really wants is still just out of reach. His strings being cut reminds me of Icarus flying too close to the sun, Spamton wanted to go even further beyond his limits and, blinded by his hope, he ended up paying the ultimate price :((

I really want more Jevil backstory too...Jevil seems satisfied with his current condition and I really want to know how he was able to accept his fate while Spamton chose to seek redemption. And if Jevil is really in denial this whole time, is there something that will get him to break out of that?

Spamton has moments of clarity, and even in moments where he has a warped view of the world, he still projects his shortcomings onto Kris in a surprisingly self-aware way, but Jevil doesn't seem to have any cracks in his facade at all. Going to be interesting to see what situation the next secret boss is in and what their attitude towards all of this is

[hurricanes-art]

i am interested in your hades au, would you mind giving some details about it? 👁 it looks really interesting

[This AU is from these drawings!]

*cracks knuckles* Ok! I actually got enough sleep last night so I'm finally feeling up to explaining this au lmao

Also I hope that by “some details” you meant “way way too many” because I am nothing if not long winded. Also @hades-hellsite asked for context too, here you go

The central premise is that, after he dies, Achilles manages to make an arrangement with Hades that allows both him and Patroclus to stay in Elysium together. He's not employed to work at the house and he never becomes Zagreus's combat trainer.

Hades makes a few attempts to find Zagreus a different teacher among the shades of great warriors, but being skilled does not make someone able to teach. And being able to teach one way doesn't mean someone will be good for every student. When Zagreus doesn't learn well with the few mentors Hades tries, which he barely gives a chance to breathe anyway, he's quick to decide that he must have no martial ability and declares Zagreus a failure in that as he has about so many things.

This has two major effects on Zagreus before his escape attempts begin. One, without any chance to actually grow into aptitude in combat, he's left without anything substantial to put his energy into and, more importantly, he's left without anything he feels good at and that gives value to his efforts. Two is that, in Achilles' absence, very few people in the house give him any care and support untwisted by the politics of the house and the judgment of his father. There is Orpheus, kind to him before Hades locks him away for refusing to sing, Hypnos, willing to put the house to sleep so he can find the truth though jumbled up in his own problems, and Nyx.

Nyx is the only one to aid Zagreus when he decides to try to escape. She contacts Olympus and weaves careful lies to win their support and blesses his departure. She's also the only one who believes that Zagreus has the slightest chance of escaping. Already in canon, most everyone tells him there no way he'll make it out, but here, it's so much worse. He doesn't know how to fight, his initial attempts are pitiful and his progress negligible, and near everyone lashes out at him to get back in line and stop making things worse.

He doesn't even have the Infernal Arms. Achilles is the one who brings them to him in canon; here Zagreus takes a simple bronze sword from one of the house's many displays of weapons from wars long past. He thanks the Fates that the Styx restores it the same way it does his body when he dies because he nicks and dulls the edges every time.

Despite all the disadvantages, Zagreus throws himself into escaping with unshakable determination, bone deep stubbornness. He picks up his sword and will figure out how to use it himself. Experience will be his teacher. He dies over and over and he watches his enemies and learns how they move and how he must react, mimicking their attacks for his own use and adjusting and adjusting after each failure. And contrary to Hades' adamant belief, Zagreus is very intelligent and learns brilliantly when allowed to and he grows stronger and stronger.

There's no teacher more savage than experience in something like this, though. The pursuit is agonizing and the cost is enormous and adjusting to this ceaseless violence feels impossible.

Much of my interest in this idea is how the added strain on his circumstances and relationships affects Zagreus and his mental state. At his best, Zag looks a lot like he does in canon, with his laurels unfurled and vibrant, and his feet glowing hot, but he rarely feels his best here. His laurel leaves curl in dry and crisp, muted like the leaves of autumn. Flakes of ash and soot build up over his legs and encase more and more as he suffers. So deep is his feeling of failure and being trapped that it affects him physically.

Not always, though. His flames respond to his emotions, burn brighter in his passion. Enthusiasm, love, fervor, bliss, anger set him glowing.

After a brutally drawn out span of time, Zagreus meets Achilles and Patroclus in Elysium and tbh, the rest of my interest is really in how the altered circumstances change the evolution of their relationships with each other. The pair of warriors were never separated for an extended time and Achilles is less downtrodden and resigned and Patroclus is less bitter and abrasive when Zagreus stumbles upon them.

They don't fight him, which Zagreus counts among his greatest blessings, although Achilles still seems to have an interest. It makes him twitchy and he jumps when Achilles finally lifts his spear and swings it around in his third time in their little glade only to bump the flat of the blade against elbow and tell him to keep it in more towards his body. Zagreus blinks rapidly at him before adjusting his arm.

Achilles helps him here and there, tips and tricks and valuable advice, but he never gives anything near the thorough instruction he did in canon. On one hand, he doesn't need to. Zagreus is a self made fighter and it leaves him with weaknesses but it is also a powerful thing. He is unpredictable and incredibly adaptable and he only continues to improve.

On the other hand, there's no room for it. Achilles is gentle with his guidance, but Zagreus is rubbed raw by all the fighting he's done and all that still depends on it. He doesn't want to always focus on the weapon in his hands. Patroclus notices and curbs Achilles' input when it exceeds its bounds. He sits aside and observers carefully when they spar. Zagreus doesn't need another's direction which is fine by him, who's lost all desire for combat. He gives his aid through his assortment of trinkets that carry Zagreus further to the surface.

Zagreus barely knows what to do with himself in the face of their care. He's so unaccustomed to such generous and genuine support, interest devoid of expectation or blame. As familiarity between the three of them grows, their interactions grow warmer, more tender and comfortable. Their care lays on a foundation, not a hinge, and Zagreus grapples with understanding that he really can lean on it. It all leaves him so uncertain yet so desperate because he wants more than anything to have joy and conversation and company with others where he doesn't shoulder heavy guilt from unspoken accusations over his escaping the house and to have a place he feels he belongs without being an intrusion.

He does at first believe he's intruding, though. Intruding on their time together in the peace of Elysium. It takes them time to convince him that they value his presence immeasurably. The opportunity to stay together in the Underworld has been invaluable for Achilles and Patroclus, but the peace of Elysium is a deceptive thing. It wears away and prickles at them, pressing down in odd warping ways. Patroclus is beyond pleased to have the war behind him and that it can never force him to fight again, and despite Achilles retaining an interest in competition and combat, he does feel the same way. Having a cause though, something to believe in and worth devoting their efforts towards... They didn't realize how deeply they missed it until Zagreus. It is revitalizing. They thrive in his genuine, boundless kindness and long to support him.

The drawings of Orpheus arguing with Hades and Zagreus fighting with Nyx is from one of my plot point ideas. Later down the line, together, Hades, Persephone, and Nyx agree to forbid Zagreus from seeing Achilles and Patroclus at Nyx's behest. Similarly to how she talks about Dusa in canon, she sees mortal shades as beneath his station and that it's highly unbecoming for the prince to be consorting with them. Zagreus fights against the idea ferociously and is only smothered by the threat that, if he seeks them out anyway, Hades will void Achilles' agreement and have Patroclus moved to the proper plane of the Underworld.

It crushes Zagreus. He loves them and cares about them so much and being torn apart from them is a wound that cuts so deep. But even more than that, what breaks him open most, is the fact that it came from someone he cared for and trusted most. Nyx was the one person in the House he could depend on most and this betrayal at her hand is devastating. And for such a worthless reason as propriety and godly vanity. It's not her place to force those upon him. It hurts Zagreus to the core.

Orpheus is the only one willing to stick up for him in this, deeply empathetic to the grief of being separated from loved ones and well acquainted with the fact that such punishments will only damage, never correct. After all, his stint of punishment in Erebus didn't revive his desire to sing, it was Zagreus's dedication and vibrancy that did that. One of the many invaluable gifts Zagreus gave him, including reuniting him with Eurydice, making him happier than he'd been since her death. Orpheus can't keep biting his tongue when all these gods refuse to see any of this.

It all comes to a head dramatically and painfully and I've thought of a few variations on how it would play out. I'll leave it for now though, I might draw it or write it later >:3c  Also this got really long lol. Hopefully the idea is at least somewhat interesting!

And here, have the lines from these two drawings because I like the way they look