#its not often we hear charlie talk about emotions

[blinkpen]

got an anon asking something along the lines of "there's sexual/romantic tension between charlie and zoetrope? since when?" and i've found myself drawing/writing a much more in-depth response (from charlie's POV no less) than i really need to

esp considering i could have just gone "look. these are two villainous men who have been besties since childhood, and one is regularly seen perched on the other's shoulder like a parakeet, a habit nobody really remarks upon. you do the math."

[carpisuns]

the most hurtful thing about the rise of AI art, to me, is that the importance of lived human experience is up for debate.

you could say a lot about the ethical implications of it all and how it negatively impacts actual artists—how their work is being stolen and fed to bots without their permission, how they are losing ownership of their own artistic expression, how they're are losing their jobs because AI can "replace" them. but people will always find a way to talk their way around it. "if they didn't want people to use their art, they shouldn't be posting it online." "you can't own an artistic style." "the generated art piece is not actually their art. it's not stealing." and the real clincher: "i don't know what to tell you. that's just progress."

i feel like so many people see this issue through the lens of charlie bucket's dad getting fired from the toothpaste factory because a machine could place a cap on the tube more efficiently. but making art is not the same as screwing a cap onto a tube of toothpaste. it's emotional. it's meaningful. it's expressive. the end result is informed by the experiences and choices of the creator. and the viewer's experience is different knowing that a human is behind those choices—that there was real choice involved at all.

you could argue that AI art retains the inherent humanity of art, because it uses samples of real art made by real people—a whole collective pool of representative humanity. but it's not really the same. it's just an echo. an illusion. a mimic of life without the spark that actually makes it alive.

when i look at art, i want to think about the human behind it. i want to feel connected to them. i want to ponder their choices and notice their details and appreciate their skills. i want to look at it and feel something, because the artist felt something when they made it.

sometimes i see a cool piece of art and get excited. but when i realize it's AI, the emotion is gone. "what's the difference?" someone might ask. "if you liked it before, why don't you like it knowing it's AI? the image didn't change. it's still the same." and sure, visually it's the same. but emotionally it's not. i can't make a connection with it anymore. because there was no real intention behind it. i can't search for meaning in it, because there is none. when i look at AI art, even visually impressive art, i feel nothing. there's no wonder. there's no connection. the only possible feeling for me is, "wow, technology has come so far! neat."

it doesn't even have the appeal of "art" created by nature, like the Grand Canyon or the ocean or the night sky. those create a sense of wonder because there was no human involvement at all. the beauty came from the universe itself, and it feels like a gift from nothing and everything at once, and it's that beauty that so often inspires humans to make something in its likeness.

but AI art feels like a weird in-between of the art made with no hands and the art made with human hands. like pseudo-clay molded with empty gloves. it's sort of uncanny valley–ish. something almost human but not quite, so it always feels a little off. with human-made art, mistakes are understandable, expected, even endearing—a reminder that a person made this, and people are not perfect. but that weird offness of AI art just feels wrong. like a glitch in a simulation, reminding you that what you see was never real.

but really, even if AI was always completely indistinguishable from human-made art, the viewing experience would still be fundamentally changed. we make art to connect with each other, to see and be seen, to speak and to listen. but when i look at AI art, i don't know how to listen for a song. all i hear is the whir of cogs in a machine.

some people might point out that we're all just machines too. that AI's 1s and 0s are really no different from the synapses firing in our brains, and we draw inspiration from everything around us the same way AI draws from the samples in its generation bank. it's different to me, though. maybe i just feel this way because i myself am a creator, and i want to feel like i have something special to offer. but i have to believe there is meaning in the choices and expression of humans that there isn't in the choices of a program.

i'm sure this is just doomsday talk and it wouldn't actually happen, but the idea of AI eventually being handed the primary "creative" role over human beings is frankly devastating, even terrifying. i don't want to live in a world where all the art around me was generated automatically from a prompt and spat out onto a conveyer belt. it would be an inexpressible loss to me.

this isn't to say that AI doesn't have a place at all, or that we should abandon our exploration of technological advancement. i just hope that as this issue gets bigger, we remember the real point of art. when we are sad or lonely or angry, all of us turn to art. whether it's visual art or music or film or writing, art tells a story. we take comfort from the stories we tell each other, and it means something that those stories come from other people. art is and will always be a bridge between us and the rest of humankind.

so while our technology continues to develop, i hope we guard that bridge. I hope we protect the creative space of artists who want to tell stories. i hope we keep the demand for emotional expression high. i hope we honor the humanity of human-made art. if AI art is a truly reflection of us, i hope we keep looking toward the figure that cast the reflection, keep seeking the voice that started the echo.

[vivziepopwhatthehell]

Ep 4 Review

There are mentions of SA in this document. Reader discretion is advised.

Introduction

There’s so many things that I want to say about Hazbin Hotel but for now, I’m only going to keep my thoughts relevant to episode four. It’s the episode that everyone is talking about, after all. I’d love to hear everyone else’s thoughts too. 

The Positives

- I was expecting Blake Roman's voice acting to be subpar, and initially, it fell short of my expectations. The first episode featured what I believe is his weakest voice direction among all the released episodes. However, my initial concerns were proven wrong as the series progressed. In this episode, Blake's performance truly stood out and showcased his considerable talent. He skillfully conveyed emotions that he wasn't given an opportunity to show in the earlier episodes. Despite this improvement, he still faces the challenges with maintaining the Angel Dust accent. Blake Roman would definitely shine if he was given a role that wasn't previously defined by another talented voice actor like Michael Kovach. That being said, I'm really excited to see more from Blake Roman in future episodes.

- Valentino's character is now effectively portrayed with the menacing demeanor befitting his role, a notable departure from his initial appearance in episode two. The shift in his portrayal makes it more evident why Angel Dust fears him. To enhance the impact of Valentino's introduction in this episode, a strategic adjustment in episode two's writing could have been beneficial. Specifically, focusing more on Vox and Alastor, and introducing Valentino through Angel Dust's voicemail instead. This approach would have spared Valentino from the perception of being pathetic and whiny in previous showcases, ensuring a more powerful debut. However, it's worth noting that episode four rectifies this mistake to a significant extent, making the suggestion to rewrite episode two more of a reflection on what could have been done differently rather than a critique of the current narrative.

- The animation is a lot smoother in this episode compared to two and three. The characters are also a lot more expressive and the art is overall pretty to look at. That's my overall opinion on the art direction. The storyboard is great in several areas, too. I loved the visuals when Husk talks about how he signed his contract with Alastor. 

- The beginning of the episode actually had a few jokes that made me laugh.

The Negatives

- Hazbin Hotel has huge pacing problems present in all of the episodes. Because the show only has 23 minutes and 10 episodes to tell its story, a bunch of minor inconveniences need to be escalated unrealistically either to change a scene or develop character relationships (this one is mainly in relation to Charlie and Vaggie). In this episode, Charlie's tiny stumble over a plug must hastily snowball into a fire to justify the subsequent escalation of tension with Valentino. But how does that even start a fire? Charlie could instead accidentally knock over a lit candle on the bedside table in the set. Following this mishap, the employees, who are off exploring Charlie's hotel idea after their conversation during the shoot, are absent when the fire starts, causing it to spread. This change is still stupid, but it maintains the same elements while offering a more believable catalyst for the escalating tension. Another area that could have been improved was the ending, because I feel like Angel Dust forgave Charlie way too easily.

- Hazbin Hotel often relies heavily on exposition dumps and tends to tell rather than show. Husker's dialogue in the beginning of the episode serves as a means to spoon-feed the audience information about each character's struggle, which is a really boring way to storytell. Husker also seems to have such an intimate understanding of every character that he should be the one to run the hotel at this point. I am hoping that we get a Husker and Charlie episode, where Husker tells her to listen to her friends more. Maybe then she’d have a better understanding on how to help them out with their problems.

- Valentino's powers are confusing me. In "Addict," the red smoke from Valentino and Angel Dust's cigarettes, initially symbolic, seems to become literal in episode four. For instance, Valentino uses the smoke to create chains around Angel Dust's throat and pulls him upwards to focus on the contract he signed. The smoke should not have been made a physical entity that can control the characters this way, because now it completely devalues its presence in the music video (even if the music video is no longer canon). 

- Regrettably, the episode has become difficult for me to view objectively due to some storyboard artists openly sharing their personal bedroom preferences. I'm making a concerted effort to distinguish the artists from their work, but it is hard to not view this as just another fuel for fetish. To illustrate, consider the smoke chain scene preceding "Poison," where Valentino employs a chain around Angel's neck to compel him to review the contract. It's notable that Valentino could have achieved the same effect by grabbing Angel's hair, but the inclusion of the chain appears to be a direct reference to the storyboard artist's leash kink.

- There’s too many songs. When the song title leaks came out for Hazbin Hotel, I thought that most of them were just the names of the instrumentals. They are all actually two-four minute length songs. When these songs do come onto the screen, none of them have build-up. The song just randomly starts, and many times, the song replaces moments that are crucial to have dialogue in. Just because you have Broadway stars doesn’t mean that you need to have three songs per episode. Cap it to one to leave a good impression on your audience, because most of these songs left me REALLY bored not even halfway through them. The lyrics and how they are sung are also offensive at times, specifically in “Loser Baby”. 

- Charlie's fixation on the hotel has reached an alarming level of insensitivity in this episode. While the hotel's success remains crucial, her approach comes off as callous and indifferent to the people around her. The episode kicks off with what seems like a thoughtful gesture toward Angel Dust, trying to help him get a day off work. But her motivation is solely to ensure he can continue his daily redeemer exercises at the hotel. Then, when Angel Dust begs her to leave (while sounding completely terrified in the process), Charlie overstays her welcome and actively disrupts the employees during the shoot to advertise her hotel. There’s a time and place, Charlie! In my ideal version of the episode, Charlie remains determined to secure a day off for Angel Dust (just to spend time with him). Charlie doesn’t get to speak to Angel Dust before she proposes the idea to Valentino. Valentino responds nicely to her, but we see a bunch of subtle cues to his anger about Angel Dust trying to “escape” before he glares at Angel Dust and brings him into the other room.

-  Keith David is talented, but his voice for Husker just isn’t doing it for me. Sorry, Keith. It isn’t as rough and gravelly as it should be, but you were obviously just miscast. The same applies to Stephanie Beatriz as Vaggie. 

- A trigger warning is absent from the episode. The warning wouldn't have benefited the narrative in any way, but it would have definitely aided the members of the audience that it is meant to represent.

Conclusion

In my opinion, the episode is overall “okay”. It still suffers a lot of the same problems as the other episodes. Though, episode four does have its own improvements as well. I am hoping that the show continues to get better from here.

Edit: accidentally deleted one of my points before publishing + added a tag.

[lifmera]

hi mera!! i hope you’re having a lovely day! could i please request a hazbin hotel, chainsaw man, and twisted wonderland matchup if it isn’t too much?

pronouns | she/they

preference | it doesn’t matter!

personality | very shy, but once i’m comfortable with you i become very chaotic! i tend to be mean affectionately when i get comfortable and just say what’s on my mind without much thought cause i know i can trust you. i am the type of the person to tell you if what you’re doing could get you hurt or in trouble in some way. i’m also very big about honesty so it’s rare that i ever tell a lie, especially to people close to me. hence why i want people to be straight up and not lie to me. not very big on people i don’t know well touching me, but if you’re close to me you can hug me if you’d like.

when i’m frustrated or angry, it happens often but it’s never truly that deep. like i’ll be angry but it won’t be for long. i do lash out at people, but it is often not just one thing that caused me to do it, it’s a build of of things over time.

being sad is just the same way, it builds up over time until it boils over. i cry a lot when i’m sad, same with when i’m angry, because i don’t know where to let out my emotions.

appearance | my hair color changes often, but right now it’s blue and purple! my hair cut is a wolf cut with bangs! i’m very pale with pale blue eyes and i’m about “5’3” to “5’4” in height! my style is grunge or alt, but i like to keep it simple! so just cargo pants, a plain t-shirt, and some high tops and jacket will do!

hobbies | archery, writing, reading, drawing, collecting, gaming

likes | 80s music, vampiric aesthetics, victorian fashion, cats

dislikes | bugs, spiders, thunder, loud noises, arguing

lil extras | istp | pisces

i’m a very all over the place person so i hope this is okay! thank you! <3

HI HUN!!! IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE. IM TRYING 😭🩷

I’ve decided to pair you with…. CHARLIE, DENJI & MALLEUS

Pretty wide variety… i know!

She LOVES your personality once you start to become comfortable.

She loves to be chaotic with you. Shes just a chaotic energy in total.

She’d love if you kept her AND other people out of trouble! Thats why she loves you so much :)

Shes also huge about honesty. Did you see what happened with vaggie!

She understands boundaries. Although she’s probably huge on touch, I feel like she wouldn’t do anything unless you initiated it.

When you lash out, she tries to help you not bottling up your emotions, and talking to her anytime something happened, she’ll love to hear whats going on.

She loves your outfits and your hair!! She thinks its super unique, and would say “opposites attract”

DENJI

Chaotic trio w power!!

If you playfully are mean to him he’ll do the same. I also think he’d try to bite you as a joke. Like chomp chomp.

Hes HUGE on honesty. Like what happened with makima…? Yikes..

Please help him stay out of trouble. He’s always doing something hella nuts or putting himself in danger. Although most of the times he prob won’t listen, he might!!

I think he might be a little annoying, so it’ll make you get angry, but if you talked about it to him.. 100% he’ll try to fix it!

Loves how u look. Honestly probably fell for you bc of it!!

He would probably game with you. And he’d enjoy it so much and be like.. “could you teach me…”

Teach him all your hobbies. PLEASE. HE’D LOVE TO DO IT ALL. He’ll suck butt at drawing and painting but please. It’d be so fun.

He’ll kill all the bugs for you <3

I honestly think at first he’d be scared of thunder, but he’d start to like it, and help you!!

MALLEUS

Definitely found out abt you thru Lilia. Lilia approached you cus of your style and was like… we need to be bsfs.

He’s also pretty quiet, but when you get comfortable around him, he’d LOVE how chaotic you are.

I think he HATES when people are too uptight. And will look to you for a break!!

Malleus might be a frustrating partner since he seems closed off, but i promise its just cause he doesn’t have friends and he needs to learn :(

He’d be so happy to find out the reason you were shy at first is bc you’re awkward and you aren’t scared of him like everyone else.

He’d be fine with whatever you did to him. Honestly if you lash out at him, he’d be a little taken aback but he’d let you let all your emotions out, and try to help you through it all.

I also think he’d suck at art. At first. I think he’d pick it up super quickly. He’s pretty good at everything.

I think at first he’d also suck at comforting but after a while he’d be super great at it.

~~

I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY <3

[meekswillinherittheearth]

What the Poets are like in my DR!

this is a response to this ask! hope you enjoy!! posting it a bit earlier than originally intended bc i couldn't take the anticipation anymore :)

Neil Perry

my found family brother!!

always looking out for me

he was the first person i met when i started at Welton

we do bicker like siblings but it's okay

i love going to his plays, watching him perform is so much fun and he is so happy

seeing him like that is enough to heal the soul

we share books a lot

i do his stage makeup!

he makes the strangest little sounds sometimes

it will be dead silent and he'll make a silly little squeaky sound

always joins me and my dad (mr keating) for family time

Todd Anderson

he's so sweet and caring

he can be very sarcastic though

insert the "the one with the buck teeth?" situation 😭

he's super funny without trying to

we're both super anxious and it's nice to have someone around who understands that

amazing hugs!! not often, but they are healing

that time i was having a really stressful day and he hugged me and i immediately cried

he can be insecure about his relationships with people because he thinks people don't wanna be around him and just hang out with him out of pity

he needs reassurance but refuses to act for it

really good at painting! i got him watercolors for his birthday <3

he deserves everything. if i could give you the moon i would todd bb

Charlie Dalton

outrageous drama queen

he loves dancing

never said he was good at it though!

it's mostly just twirling

flirts with you to antagonize you but only if you tell him it's okay, he would never wanna make someone uncomfortable <3

my number 1 supporter since forever

superrrr competitive

can and will turn anything into a competition

massive cheesy nerd but denies it adamantly

he cares about his friends more than anything

very very affectionate

wants to be touching someone at all times

his love language is 1000% touch

very talented at music, he can play guitar, sax and a little bit of drums

doesn't sing often but definitely can

hates studying, not because he doesn't care about his education, but because it's not stimulating enough for his brain and he gets distracted really easily

i've said it once and i'll say it again, he is EVERYONES BIGGEST CHEERLEADER!!!

we're polar opposites but will match energy when needed

knows when to be hyperactive and when to be chill and quiet

sarcastic, always being a little shit

"hey charlie, will you pass me that?" "um, no" as he's passing it to you type of thing

gets me out of my shell, which i appreciate so much <3

i really benefit from the confidence he gives me and he likes being around someone who doesn't expect him to be going at a million miles an hour all the time

Knox Overstreet

my gossip buddy!

when we're bored we sit and people watch and make up life stories for the people we see

he has the silliest, most giggle

can and will lift you up

on his shoulders, picking you up and spinning you around, no matter what, it will happen

i watched him pick Charlie up and shake him and nearly peed myself laughing

very platonically affectionate, like little cheek kisses and stuff

it's his way of showing gratitude

hes also pretty sensitive and emotional

he read pride and prejudice and cried his eyes out

type of guy to kick his feet and giggle while twirling his hair

Gerard Pitts

hits his head off things at least once a day

so long and gangly and strange

like those things at car dealerships (affectionate)

he's so sarcastic and goofy

we always gang up on Charlie when he does/says something stupid

he takes his grades very seriously

but he isn't a stick in the mud about it

loves music so much

its one of the main things i hear him talk about

finds and keeps cool rocks

gives them to people when they're having a rough day

penguin behavior tbh

he is just a silly guy!

Steven Meeks

this is gonna be a long one, buckle up lovelies

we met and instantly clicked

inconsolably sweet, all the time

also kind of a chronic people pleaser but we're working on it okay!

we both have an affinity for latin

we have secret conversations in latin sometimes <3

about a week after we first met he asked Charlie if I was dating anyone but made him promise not to tell me (which didn't last long)

when we met i complimented his glasses and he blushed and went "thank you, i need them to see. i like your freckles."

he did not realize how hilarious of a response that was until later

falling asleep on his shoulder when we're up late studying <3

GETTING PRINCESS CARRIED!!!!!

he always wants to carry me places. who needs legs honestly

flustering him is so easy and i love to do it because it's so funny

trying to teach him how to dance and he trips over his own feet

he has the softest most beautiful curls ever

tiny little ringlets by his ears!! my heart is melting!!!!

and his eyes.... cut the cameras

hes so pretty

him laying in my lap while i read to him

leaving lipstick all over his face and him not realizing.... the literal cutest

he is always the first one I run to when I get off stage after a recital (they all come to my ballet recitals in my dr)

us always getting caught staring at each other <3

writing poetry for each other!!!!

his love language is acts of service and quality time

his glasses are somehow constantly fogging up

he always offers me his sweater/coat/jacket when i'm chilly

my love im kicking my feet and giggling writing about him

he feels like the song 'let the light in' by lana del rey

[jortsaaaaaaart]

To Be Forgotten Amongst Friends chp1

Omega! Reader x avengers

Hello all! I revamped my story "ikaros" and this is the new story! Also the name is long rip.

Trigger warnings (later chapters mostly)- ptsd, noncon, kidnapping, human experimentation, Stockholm and lima syndrome

The following chapters will be posted on- https://archiveofourown.org/works/33890977     (seriously- may not post here that often cause i hate the tagging system- go check out ao3)

It's a beautiful day in New York and you're a terrible, no good, thief. 

You were considered New York’s very own Robin Hood. Two hundred ATM robberies in two years, the money flying out of the machines and into the hands of people who needed it. The banks, collectively, had lost over $300,000 from the ATMs alone. But of course, it wasn't just the ATMs. A rash of robberies had spread over the East coast. Most were digital, companies funneling their own money to offshore accounts that wanted nothing to do with U.S. intervention. The FBI were notified, then the CIA, and eventually- after a daring cyber attack against the DOD- SHIELD itself turned it's one eyed gaze onto you.

Nick Fury saw something the other agencies didn't. You had certain gifts that made your line of work incredibly easy. Whether they were natural mutations or some sort of superpower, they allowed you to break into some of the most secure networks known to man. He had almost found you when SHIELD fell and his resources vanished. After the dust cleared he was forced to start from scratch. Hunting you and the remnants of Hydra down at the same time wasn't easy, but, in a strange twist of fate, he found someone else that was searching for you too.

+++

New York was filled with so many people. Most of them were good, in your opinion. (Well, maybe half, actually.) You spent most of your off time working on "projects" or walking around the city. You had become a fixture at the local Bodega. Single omegas were extremely  rare, marked single omegas were almost unheard of. The mark gave you certain freedoms other omegas, sadly, didn't have. It drove away most potential suitors and the ones who were particularly bold would be given a taste of your powers. Once the burrow had gotten used to your presence they saw you as a generous person, but a secretive one. Someone who took no shit even with their designation. You gave to the community and different Omega rights groups in the area. After years of watching you quietly go about helping people you had been welcomed into the burrow's heart with open arms.

You loved helping people in your own way. You loved it just as much as you hated corporations and the police, but when you could make an ATM spew it's contents out into the poorest streets of Brooklyn or make Fox News send a million dollars to Planned Parenthood, you could have the best of both worlds.

At least, for a time. All good things had to end, right? That's what you told yourself as the redhead picked her way through the crowd towards you. 

Seeing an avenger in your neighborhood was an odd occurrence. It was a poorer part of town, untouched in the battle of New York, and too out of the way for any super villain origin stories. In fact, you seemed to be the only mutant in the entire block. You'd always thought, if someone was going to come for you, it would be a couple of FBI agents and not the fucking Black Widow. Your brain and heart went into overdrive as you tried to remember doing anything worth the avenger's time. But there was nothing. The DOD hack had been almost a year ago and all you did was release government files showing attacks on civilians overseas. It hardly seemed like an avengers worthy crime, especially when Black Widow herself had leaked government secrets before.

Any hope of her not not looking for you was dashed when her eyes locked onto yours. She tilted her head, asking a silent question. 

The burst of adrenaline sent you careening through the lunchtime crowds. You couldn't feel anyone on the rooftops but there was a large form blocking your path, trying to box you in. They were stronger and faster but you knew the environment. You ducked into Charlie's, your sneakers skidding on the asphalt as you took the sharp turn. The person behind the counter lazily looked up as you walked to the back. They knew you well enough to not care, they also weren't paid enough to care. The alley would open up into a busy side street. More people meant a better chance to blend in and get away. You were almost to the end when the door opened behind you. Black Widow and fucking Captain America stepped into the alley. For a moment the three of you stood in something akin to a standoff. 

You felt wildly undressed for this life-threatening situation.

"We just want to talk, (Y/N)" Captain America told you, hands raised. The unmistakable stink of an alpha radiated from the captain. You were momentarily thankful for your mark dulling its effect on you. Though, the blonde's scent was tinged with something hauntingly familiar. Something you didn't want to recognize.

Behind him, Black widow's free hand went to her ear. "Target is in the alley between 31st and 32nd," A twitch of your finger and the line went dead. Her hand dropped to the gun at her hip.

"I'm feeling pretty under equipped for this 'conversation'," You replied, slowly raising your hands as well, wondering if they could feel what you were doing. They didn't react and you slowly let your power seep from you.

Natasha was the first to react, drawing her gun and spinning around. Steve looked at her with confusion as her wide eyes scanned the alley as if she was seeing ghosts. She was afraid he realized, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. He moved towards her and you took off running. You felt him hesitate then take off after you, gaining on you with an embarrassingly low number of strides. You tried your powers again, stronger this time, but his focus was unwavering. He was almost to you now and you were running out of options. That’s when the alpha in him came out.

“Omega!” He snarled, “Stop!” Your feet slowed down immediately. It wasn’t as strong as your own alpha’s command would be, but the super soldier certainly commanded respect and obedience. You were forced to stand still, eyes burning holes in the asphalt, as the alpha’s footsteps grew closer. You really didn't want to do this but it looked like you had no choice. Your jaw clenched, and you spun around when his hand grabbed your arm. The blonde's eyes widened as you placed a palm to his chest. 

He barely had time to glance down at your hand before the electricity hit him.

The 1,000 volts you sent into him were supposed to stun him or send him flying, allowing you to escape. However, his muscles spasmed just a bit stronger than you intended. In an instant his grip crushed the bones in your arm and sent the two of you careening backwards into a brick wall. Natasha would find you a moment later, passed out on top of the super soldier, a sizable hole in the wall.

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, a few blurry white shapes milled about in the corners of your vision. You couldn't remember how you got here, or where here was. All your senses seemed to be dulled. Your wrist was throbbing and each time you opened your eyes the room came in and out of focus. You closed your eyes, opting to ignore the funhouse effect and focus on the sounds around you. The beeping of the monitors, footsteps on concrete, and two low voices.

"She's alright, Buck, I promise." Steve's voice wavered in and out of your consciousness bringing with it the memory of how you got into this bed. "She did something to Nat and ran before I could explain. I wasn't expecting her powers to be so strong."

"I should have come with you," Another voice snarled. Your heart skipped a beat at the low growl. You knew that voice. It evoked a sickening combination of need and terror and you couldn't remember why. "She wouldn't have gotten hurt if I had. What idiot doesn't know omegas are fragile?!"

"It was an accident!" His voice raised slightly before sighing. "I know you're worried, but she's fine."

The scent you had smelled on Steve earlier swirled around the room. Metal and burning pine, it affected you just like the voice had, triggering both panic and yearning. You knew it somehow. The memory was there somewhere, tucked away where it couldn’t hurt you. Where it should have been forgotten.

The scent grew unbearably strong as he leaned over you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. When he pulled back he wasn't expecting his eyes to catch yours. 

His expression softened as soon as he realized you were awake. "Omega," Bucky whispered reverently. Stormy blue eyes stared down at you with love and adoration, watching the color drain from your face. "Doll?" 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear the panicked beeping of the machines and Steve trying to calm you down. But it didn't matter. All that you could feel was the need to get far, far, away from this man. You didn't know how you knew him but you knew he was dangerous. You knew he had hurt you. That's why, as he reached out to gently cup your face, you slapped his hand away. 

"Get away from me!" You gasped, voice breaking. You scooted back and tried to back up as far as possible. Your shaky legs barely held your weight as you slid off the bed. Pure terror coursed through your veins, it was the only thing keeping you on your feet. You found yourself pressed into the corner of the room while the men stared at you in shock. Steve and Bucky gaped like you had just told them the Germans had actually won WWII. Eyebrows knit together, blue eyes wide and frantic, Bucky looked like he was in emotional turmoil.

“(Y/N), doll, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s your alpha.” Bucky reached out to you carefully as a low purr rumbled from his chest.

You felt the purr relax you and dull your senses even more. It was nauseating. “I don’t have an alpha! And I don’t know who the hell you are!” You tried to shout and grit your teeth but the words came out in broken sobs, betraying your weakness. Who was this? Why was he the most terrifying thing you had ever seen?

Your teeth were bared at this point but the man kept coming towards you. The tunnel vision and rapid shallow breaths were the only warnings your body gave you as it reverted to its animalistic omega framework. Bucky watched as, in slow motion, your eyes went blank as your body gave out. 

+++

Your alpha held your body to his chest in disbelief. He had expected some shock at seeing him but this went far beyond his expectations. It had been over three years since he'd last seen you. Since he'd last been able to drink in your scent. He'd figured you might not recognize him at first. He had changed a lot over the years. No longer under Hydra's control his physical appearance, demeanor, and scent had changed. But your body should've known your alpha. 

"What was that?" Steve asked. "Why did she react like that when she has your mark?" The two alphas were on edge. Seeing a vulnerable omega drop triggered their protective instincts. Steve desperately wanted to take you and hold you close, ease you out of the drop. If the alpha holding you was anyone other than his closest friend and packmate he would have ripped you out of his grasp immediately. For now he'd have to hold himself back.

"She didn't remember me." Bucky nuzzled his head into your neck, nursing your mark softly. After a moment he pulled back and gazed at your unchanged features. He couldn't wake you from this drop that easily. He pressed in harder this time, teeth lining up with the scar perfectly, but there was still no change. No purr, command, or bite was waking you up.

"We should let her rest, Buck. The pain meds will wear off soon and we'll try again. . . Bring her to the den. She'll need to get used to everyone's scents sooner or later." Steve laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. It was a gentle but firm suggestion. He knew tensions were high, the den, with it's heavy curtains and plush blankets, would calm down his friend and the omega. With little argument the brunette lifted you up and carried you to the den. It was aptly named and extremely well constructed thanks to Stark. Curtains blocked off all light from the windows, mattresses were inlaid into the ground, and the temperature was always cool. It was one good thing about being in a pack with that narcissist, Bucky thought dryly.

Steve led them into a cozy corner of the room. The captain hummed happily as they moved the pillows and blankets, creating a makeshift nest for the three of them. The feeling of the omega pressing into his chest was addictive. He couldn't wait for you to remember your alpha.

The sooner you remembered your bond with Bucky the sooner the rest of the pack, Steve included, could court you.

[echoalyssa]

Hi! I wanted to ask you if you could rewrite the Cheating Chase request a made a little time ago but with Jaden with the reader being famous just like him and the whole situation havin' an impact on internet and with their (shared) friends or you could write a part 2 for Cheating Chase request but only if it's not gonna bother you in any way...

❤Thank you!❤I LOVE YOUR WRINTTING❤

Warnings: Some naughty time is inferred in this!

Jaden’s music is pounding through his surround sound speaker system. He’s throwing another party. One of his signatures. Bryce is chanting “Shots shots shots!”

Jaden’s busy making out with his girl. He’s got her pressed against a wall.

“Wanna ditch my own party?” He murmurs into her ear. 

She giggles and begins to lead his girlfriend to his bedroom. A girl bumps into his shoulder hard but he barely notices, just continues steering his girlfriend to his room.

When they’re done and getting dressed he wonders where his phone has gone. It had been in his back pocket before...

A knock on the door startles him. It’s the girl who had bumped into him earlier. At least he thinks it was. He’s really not sure. He doesn't look at anyone who isn't his girl.

“You dropped this. Bryce said you were up here.”

Jaden vaguely notes her creepy smile but quickly forgets once his phone is back and his girl calls for him.

~~~ You’re barely home from Jaden’s party when your phone begins to blow up. IT vibrates almost continually, calls and texts filling up the screen. All want you to check Jaden’s instagram.

You plop down on the couch and answer the call from Mads, your best friend.

“Have you checked!?” She shrieks, loud enough that you have to take the phone off of speaker-phone for a second.

“I’m checking now! But what can possibly be so urg-”

No. This can’t be right... it can’t... there, one of his most recent posts, theres no way.

It’s a set of nudes, captioned ‘my beautiful baby girl’ with a kissy face emoji. Except.. those aren't your nudes which means... not that you'd want your nudes posted but...

Mads, taking your silence as an answer whispers, “Y/N I am so sorry.”

You can't speak, your fingers go numb. Your phone falls from your grip and clatters as it hits the floor and bounces.

Mads is speaking but you can't hear her. Your heart feels like its beating a mile a minute.

There had to be some sort of explanation, if you just called him he would be able to clear this up. Right? Right!?

So you pick up your phone, Mads is saying that she’ll make the friend group unfollow him. You excuse yourself, hang up, and dial Jaden. It rings, and rings, and rings, Then, “Hey it’s Jaden. Hit me up later!”

You try again. And again. And again. You get his voicemail every time.

Somehow you’re all the emotions at once. You pull up his instagram, and this time your notice your name is no longer in his bio the way it had been for so long.

‘That’s it.’ You think. 

You unfollow him on instagram, remove his name from your own bio, and delete all the pictures of the two of you together. 

Then you go to Snapchat and un-add him. His contact gets deleted, you unfollow him on twitter and delete his face from your camera roll. 

Satisfied as you can be, you fall into bed and let the tears come.

~~~

By the early afternoon of the next day the gossip is at full roar. You venture on to youtube, and right there, the first video you see is by ‘annaoop’ who is almost the most well known gossip youtube channel focusing on tiktokers.

‘Jaden Hossler cheats on Y/N L/N’ the title reads. Something within you compels you to click on it. 

Her voice rings, talking about ‘tea’. She shows the censored versions of the pictures from his instagram. They’re basically just one blurred skin colored square. 

“How dare he? He hasn’t commented on it at all... Y/N deleted photos of the two of them such as this one from their trip to Bondi Beach.”

The series of photos she displays make your heart clench. ‘Annaoop’ then begins to pull up the followers page on Jaden’s instagram. 

She informs you and the rest of her viewers that Mads, Nessa, Thomas, Petrou, Chase Hudson, Charli, Mia, and others have unfollowed Jaden’s instagram, and sided with you.

From the way she narrates you can tell she’s on your ‘side’. Apparently, Bryce has unfollowed you and written on his Twitter that Jaden would not be making a statement until he talked to you. Except he wasn't even trying to talk to you.

Your fans are going after Jaden, and from the screenshots some are getting ruthless. Some fans have even jumped ship from Jaden to you.

And then theres the die hard Jaden fans of his that are trashing you for not being good enough to him. It had already been established that it wasn't your body because it had a tattoo that you didn't.

Your phone is still blowing up but you don't truly want to talk about it. So instead you post a statement to your instagram and twitter. 

‘I haven’t been able to reach Jaden. We are no longer together because of the incident. Just because this happened does not mean I want or condone you attacking him or any of his friends and family. I love y'all and I will be okay <3 Y/N.’

No sooner than you had posted the statements, theres a loud pounding at your door. Very reluctantly, you open it.

It’s Nessa, she rushes in gushing. “Jaden’s coming here. I heard from Josh who heard from Blake, who heard from-”

“Nessa!” You interrupt, “When?”

“Well you know how bad at math I am but hypothetically, I mean technically he should be here soon!”

And as if right on cue, there’s the sound of your doorbell followed by rapid knocking by a heavier hand.

“I’ll go out the back door so he doesn't see me. Good luck, I love you! Call me if you need anything!” She gives you a quick and fleeting hug and then darts off.

He’s still pounding at your door. And having no other choice, you let him in. As soon as you do he's speaking so quickly that you can barely understand him. 

“Y/Nwhyhaventyoubeenansweringmeivebeencallingandcallingandcallingyouandyouhaventansweredandisawyourannouncementthatwerebrokenup-”

“Did you also happen to see the pictures you posted on your instagram?” You cross your arms.

“Ofcoursebutisweartoyouandeverythingreally-”

“Slow down or we can’t have a conversation Jaden.”

He gives you one sharp nod and takes a few big breaths. “Do you remember at my party when I got knocked by some girl?”

You frown, “No, and I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Well, thats the thing. It was orchestrated to look inconspicuous. She must have taken my phone then because after we were alone... y’know... well she showed up. Gave me my phone claiming I dropped it and Bryce told her where to find me except he didn't. She’s been stalking me Y/N. That’s how she found my room, knew my password. You know I have more respect for women than to post their nudes. You have to believe me! She blocked you from my phone, thats why nothing went through!”

It made sense... and you should believe him but what if he was just a really good liar? So many people were involved in your relationship and now this drama. You’d always tried to keep the private details of your life well... private. But life in the spotlight often prevented that. Maybe the damage had been done. Maybe it was too late. You just didn't know.

“I need to think about it Jaden.”

[imagineyourworld]

Congrats on the 100! That's fantastic! :) I was wondering if you could do prompt 2 with BB era Echo, please?

Hi,

Thank you so much <3!

I hope you'll like it.

Love, Charlie

-------

Echo x Genderneutral!Reader

Warnings: None

2. Friends to Lovers

-------

So far you didn't regret your decision to leave Kamino with the Bad Batch and Omega, but every now and then you questioned it a bit. Though whenever you were in one of those moods, as you liked to call it, there was Echo. Even just looking at him, hearing his voice or, even better, his laugh, in the distance helped you realize that you had in fact made the right choice. Before you left you had been a medic on Kamino, often assigned to Clone Force 99. That's how you met Echo, shortly after he joined the group, and how the two of you became close. After his rescue he had to spend a lot more time in the med bay than his brothers and you quickly came to the realization that he wasn't too fond of the droids that usually took care of the smaller injuries, which is why you made an effort to be there for him the second he entered the cold and sterile environment. To say that Echo instantly warmed up to you would be a lie, but once he did it was like the two of you had been friends forever. He told you everything, not only classified facts about the missions he went on with the others or the habits and characteristics of each member of the Bad Batch, but also about his other brothers. Fives, Rex, Jesse, soon you felt as if you knew them as well. His voice grew fond when he spoke of them, and you couldn't help but feel for him when he told you about everything he and his brothers had been through. In retrospect you should have known that you were in love with him way earlier, but the realization only hit you when he stormed into your small room, asking you to run away with him. You knew the right thing to do would be to alert the Kaminoans, the Empire, any sort of authority figure and to lock Echo in your room until they arrived. But the way he held out his hand, his human hand, for you to take and the hopeful look in his eyes made you throw your few belongings in an old backpack and follow him to the Marauder. Since then you've been through ups and downs, and the only constant in your new life was Echo. Echo, who had grown from your favourite patient, to your friend, to your best friend and now the man you were hopelessly in love with, something that Omega, with her childlike curiosity and emotional intelligence, seemed to have picked up on. "Why don't you ask him out?", Omega asked you, a question she seemed to have every now and then. "Because I don't know if he likes me", you told her. With a sigh that was just a bit louder than intentioned you closed the drawer of medical supplies you had just been sorting through. "Of course he likes you, he's your best friend", the girl replied. You now leaned against the drawer and looked at her. In the short time you had been travelling together it seemed as if she had grown already, you'd have to buy her some new clothes the next time you stopped somewhere. "I know he likes me, but I don't know if he likes me like I like him." You jumped as a new voice entered the conversation. "If you're talking about romantic feelings, I'm certain Echo has those for you", Tech told you matter of factly. Omega shot you an I told you so look, which made you roll your eyes. You liked every member of your small group, you really did, but did they have to get involved in this? "You really should just talk to him", Tech added before he left, a bacta patch in his hand.

-------

Talk to him, echoed in your mind all day. Easier said than done, but you knew that the more time you spend with Echo, the more inevitable it became. Maybe this was your opportunity. The two of you were out on a supply run, alone. The planet was small, but peaceful and you had time for a conversation. "Hey, Echo", you started, not even knowing what you were going to say next. "Mhm," he replied while shifting through a stack of second hand shirts. "I... You... You're my best friend, right?", you stuttered. You could see him nod absentmindedly from where you stood behind him. "Do you think Omega would like this?", he suddenly asked, turning around holding a cozy looking grey jumper with a black skull, not unlike the Batch's symbol, in the center of it. Your eyes went from Echo to the jumper and back to the clone. So much for a confession. But maybe it was a good thing, maybe you shouldn't tell him in a market, surrounded by so many other people. After all, telling your best friend that you were in love with him was supposed to be a private affair. "I'm sure she'll love it." A small smile made its way to Echo's face. You knew he didn't have much to give, not in the way of credits or material things at least, so he valued every small gift he could give. You still had a shiny rock in your backpack, which Echo had brought back for you just a few days after you met because its colour reminded him of the colour of your eyes. Looking back at it you should have known that you would eventually fall in love with that man right that moment. Or when he had returned, bloody and beaten with a malfunctioning right leg, but instead of focusing on his injuries the only thing on his mind had been to give you the necklace you now wore every day. It was simple, a silver chain with a star at the end, but it was the most valuable thing you possessed. "I still have a few credits to spare, would you like anything?", Echo asked after he paid for the jumper. You shook your head. While there are things you would want, you knew that you couldn't, shouldn't, ask for them right now. And you also knew that asking Echo to buy something for himself instead would lead nowhere, you'd tried often enough. "How about we get something to eat instead? I saw this cute little bakery on our way into town." Echo agreed and just a few minutes later the two of you walked out of the bakery, each with something called a star explosion in hand, as well as four more in your pockets for the others. "I understand the star part, but why explosion?", you asked as you looked down at the star shaped treat in your hands. Your eyes went to Echo, who had just taken his first bite and now looked at you in wonder. "Ochet", he mumbled, trying to chew and speak at the same time. You couldn't help but laugh. Most of the time Echo was serious, sometimes bordering on stern, but every now and then there was a hint of the man he might have been before his entire world went to shit, a humorous and lively side of him came to light. "Chocolate", he said again, this time with an empty mouth, but a bit of creamy nougat clinging to his bottom lip. Your laughter died down, but the smile remained. You knew that Echo loved chocolate, and rarely ever got to eat it. "A treat as sweet as you, it seems", you said, half joking and half serious. Echo didn't reply, he just looked at you in a way he's never looked at you before. Colour was rising to his pale cheeks, a sure sign that he didn't quite know what to say to that. "You think I'm sweet?", he finally asked. Now blood was rising to your cheeks as well. Maybe now was the time to confess. You had left the town behind, now walking along a flowery meadow, some might say this was the perfect opportunity. "I do." You decided not to say anything else for the moment, waiting for Echo's reaction. He smiled at you. A smile that was so sweet and genuine it warmed your heart. "I think you're sweet as well." Your heartbeat started to quicken at his words. Could this be it? The moment of truth? The point of no return? "Yeah?", you

asked, deciding in the last moment to delay your confession a bit longer. "Yeah", Echo confirmed. He looked at you and then at the star explosion in your hand. "In fact, I think you're a lot sweeter than chocolate." There was humour, but also sincerity in his voice. The hopeful part of yourself had a feeling where this was going to go, so you played along. "I think your heart is warmer than the jumper you bought for Omega." Echo laughed as he looked around, clearly trying to come up with something else. "I think you smell better than all the flowers in the galaxy combined", he told you, his eyes flitting between you and a flower on the edge of the path you were walking. Within a few quick seconds he had bent down and picked it for you, securing it behind your ear. "Good one", you told him with a smile. "I think... I think you're hotter than the twin suns on Tatooine." You knew this was a bolder statement than the ones before, but judging by the look on Echo's face he didn't mind at all. Instead he brushed the pad of his thumb along your jawline. It was only then that you noticed that not only had the two of you slowed down, you had stopped walking all together, now standing alone in the middle of the meadow with the setting sun in the distance. "I think you're more beautiful than the first ray of sunlight after a long night", he said, his voice now close to a whisper. This is is, the voice in your head told you. You took a deep breath, leaned into his soft touch and looked him deep in the eyes before you finally confessed. "I think I love you more than anyone else in the galaxy." For a moment Echo didn't say anything and you began to fear that you had ruined everything, this moment, your friendship, your future with the Bad Batch. But then a smile broke out on his face, brighter and happier than any you had seen before. "I know I love you more than anyone else in the galaxy, cyar'ika." Now it was your turn to smile. You leaned a bit closer, closing the last few centimeters between the two of you, and brushed your nose lightly against his. "Good, because I know too." "Yeah?" "Yeah." It only took that little word for Echo gently press his lips against yours. That first kiss was short and sweet and perfect. As was the second one. Only when your lips met for the third time did it turn a bit hungrier, more pressing. Echo opened his mouth to allow you to take the last hint of chocolate remaining on his tongue. Now that you've tasted both you could confirm that Echo was in fact a lot sweeter than any chocolate in the galaxy. "We should get back to the others", you whispered against his lips after yet another kiss. "I know", Echo mumbled, his lips now pressing soft kisses on your jawline. "But they can wait a few minutes, I've waited way longer for this, for you." Who were you to deny him? After all, you had waited for this moment just as long as he had.

-------

I don't know what it is about Echo that always makes me want to write the softest fluff for him, but he deserves the world after everything he's been through (as well as lots of chocolate and kisses)

[therealvinelle]

Vinelle (and muffin since I know they'll see this too~!), I don't know if you guys have made a post ranking the Twilight books and why (including Bree and L&D if applicable) but I'd love to hear your opinions! (also if you could rank the Twi movies from least worst to most worst and why that'd be awesome too! 030 hi key love your rants on the movies and would love to hear y'alls thoughts more on them)-Sw

You’ve caught us out, anon.

And thanks to you, we spent last night watching Breaking Dawn Part 2 so we could rank it. @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin hadn’t seen it at all, while I half-remembered it from years ago. A terrible time was had because that movie was unwatchably bad.

Since this ask was sent jointly, our answer was co-written.

So, without further ado, movies first:

1. Twilight

This is a bad movie, but it’s recognizably a movie. The scenes are connected, there are things it did well, and we could tell you what the plot is. The awkwardness, for instance, is very well done. The weaknesses are glaring, the main one being that the film never sells us on the characters of Bella and Edward, nor on their relationship, relying instead on the audience knowing they’re in love because- well, they’re in love.

Diving deeper into Edward and Bella, there’s an understandable explanation for this. Edward of the books is terrifying, and I don’t think there’s a translation to screen that could have kept the romantic atmosphere surrounding him that we see from Bella’s point of view.

Bella can listen to Edward eating Biology and how he explains that it means how much he loves her and not blink. An actual audience hearing that dialogue will have second thoughts.

Right out of the gate, Twilight has a very difficult task: Salvage Edward Cullen while still producing a somewhat recognizable character who will take the same actions (or near the same actions) that Edward Cullen did in the book.

In the effort to make Edward palatable but save some of his original character he loses his more terrifying lines (as well as his hilarious ego) but becomes weird, awkward, and vaguely creepy. Edward Cullen of the films is that weird, friendless guy in your high school who you feel kind of bad for but don’t want to eat lunch with.

Bella faces a similar transformation. Bella’s insecurity is completely removed (or else the screenwriters somehow failed to notice it). As a result, we get this strange antisocial girl who is too cool for school because she’s a stuck up bitch.

Between Edward, this creepy guy who sits next to her in Biology, and Bella, this girl who enters school too good for everyone else, we see no reason why they would ever be interested in one another.

In an attempt to make these characters likeable they made them both unlikeable and boring. The film series as a whole never recovers from this (indeed, the quest to make Edward look good keeps leading to stranger and stranger places). 

It also forgets to explain why the Cullens live among humans, they’re attending high school… because. It’s a movie that explained to us all those terrible 2010 era memes and “still a better love story than Twilight”. And frankly, those memes were great, better than the movie. Case in point.

Everything is weirdly blue, which is atmospheric but also makes everything and everyone washed out. Everyone is super pale, so you have Mike looking just as vampire-y as Edward. However, it’s recognizably a movie. It introduces the characters, recognizes that the audience needs to be informed of things that are important to the plot, and most scenes are in some way connected to the plot. This is more than can be said for the other films, which is why it lands the top slot.

2. Eclipse

Eclipse earns its second place by process of elimination. The remaining three were worse. Eclipse also features Edward being cuckolded mercilessly, which is hilarious. Oh, and Victoria playing Riley, that was another beautiful scene.

Apart from that it’s just a deeply boring, borderline unwatchable movie.

Special shoutouts go to:

The opening scene of Riley getting turned, a ridiculous and poorly executed scene that served no purpose for the movie whatsoever.

Rosalie dropping her backstory without any context, Bella walks up to her and Rosalie launches into this horrific story for no particular reason. Both her and Jasper’s backstories could have been cut, as they served no purpose to the story and felt really thrown in there.

The many, many redundant scenes. The Victoria chase that ends with the Cullens and Quileutes squabbling could have been cut entirely. So too could the Seattle subplot with the newborns and Bree.

It’s a movie that isn’t about anything in particular, so it throws subplot spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks. It dutifully regurgitates the Jacob/Bella/Edward love triangle while also trying to convey that Bella’s about to lose her mortality, while also trying to introduce suspense and excitement with the newborns. It fails to execute either of these, and it also fails to tie them together.

3. New Moon

The movie that wanted to skip itself.

This movie had two jobs, show that Bella is depressed when Edward leaves and convince the audience of Bella and Jacob’s strong friendship. And apart the rotating shots and the occasional Stewart voiceover, the former becomes one of those “just stay with us on this one, guys” failures, and the second is failed on every level. Jake and Bella are much closer at the beginning of this movie than they were in canon, and a montage of Bella hanging out with her buddy is just that, it’s a montage of Bella hanging out with her buddy. It speaks volumes that Stewart’s voiceover has to remind us she’s depressed and Jacob is helping her heal, because there’s no indicator on screen that this is happening.

This, in turn, makes Bella/Jake as weak and unconvincing as Bella/Edward was in the previous movie. We just have to take on faith that these people are important to each other because that’s what we’re told.

There’s also the wolves, who are completely butchered. In the books, there’s this great mystery with bears in the woods, there’s Bella wondering why Laurent ran off, there’s build-up, then when we find out what’s actually been happening it’s a satisfying explanation, all the pieces come together really nicely. This is not the case in the movie. Meeting the pack is just weird in this context, because we never wondered who they were. Bella is randomly invited to breakfast, we meet Emily with the scarred face who won’t ever have a line again, and that’s it, these characters don’t become important to the movie in any way. It’s a pointless scene that could have been cut, much like so many other scenes in these movies.

Apart from that, the Volturi scene from the books is butchered so I hardly recognize it, and Alice, Carlisle, and Edward’s characters are assassinated to an impressive degree considering they were barely in the movie.

It was hard to watch.

It lands third place because somehow, Breaking Dawn was worse.

4. Breaking Dawn Part Two

I’ll just list the positives: the intro was very pretty and promised a better movie. It was also long, which we appreciated because it took away from the movie’s runtime. (This is not at all an exaggeration, a lot of the time watching all five movies was spent looking at the remaining runtime and groaning.) The Tommy Wiseau sex scene in the sex cabin was uncomfortable, but the fact that it would have fit perfectly in The Room made it funny. The Romanians were genuinely, unironically, great, because of all of Carlisle’s trashy friends, these were the only ones the movie didn’t try to convince us weren’t trashy.

This movie ranks above Breaking Dawn Part One because of the things listed above.

Apart from that, something all of these movies, but especially the last four, suffer from is that they don’t have plots so much as they have a check list of things to put in the movie before they can call it a wrap. This movie is the worst offender of that, and it’s made worse by the film’s expectation that the people are fans who already know what’s happening, and therefore don’t need anything explained. I’ll explain what we mean by that.

We get Bella waking up a vampire, and absolutely nothing is explained. If you don’t know what happened in the last movie then fuck you. Bella then goes hunting, we get the hiker, we get the mountain lion, she goes back to meet Renesmée, finds out Jake imprinted on her daughter, we get the sex cabin, the handwrestling with Emmett. The Charlie problem is introduced (poorly), only to be solved a scene later with emotional payoff that had absolutely no buildup. All of these things, and the rest of the movie as well for that matter, feels like we’re just crossing items off a list.

Since the audience is expected to already know the story, the story only bothers to explain about half of what’s happening, if half. Who’s the lady living with Charlie? If you don’t know, don’t worry because it’s not important anyway. When did Kate and Garrett fall in love? If you don’t care, that's understandable, because they’ve barely interacted in the movie. Who are the Amazonian women? Do they have names? Don’t worry about it. Did Alistair actually leave, if so did that have an impact? Well, Bella stared at a window for a few seconds.

Every so often the characters will start quoting the books, and it’ll be completely out of place because these movies veered off course long ago. Carlisle references his great friendship with Aro, a friendship that was only briefly mentioned at the beginning of the second movie. Aro randomly starts talking about how scary human technology is.

All of these scenes feel like Marcus is telling the story, he’s just listing events waiting for the story to be over, and forgets a lot of pertinent details because he doesn’t care enough to remember them. There’s no effort to tie these scenes together, no effort to build up to anything.

There’s also one significant failure, and this is a failure shared by all five films, but it affects the plot (I use the term “plot” loosely) of this movie which is why it gets a special shoutout here. Vampires in these movies look human. The fact that Bella has to ask Edward is Gianna the secretary is human says it all, because in the books you know instantly, there’s not even a question. This makes the Charlie subplot ridiculous, because Bella looks and acts the same as ever. She had a trashy makeover, maybe, but she’s still Bella. Watching her get human acting classes after we watched her act perfectly human is just silly. Now, we’re all for suspension of belief, but this movie just pencil drew a moustache on her and the audience is supposed to go “My god, Bella, I didn’t recognize you!”

We then get to the atrocious fight scene, which was somehow worse than I remembered. It was also oddly long for a giant fake out. This scene took significant run time and it turns out to have 0 effect on the plot. And when we get back to the real world, the tonal shift is extreme. You can’t go from Jane being choked, dragged across the snow and face eaten by a wolf to her standing around chilling. We could have skipped it entirely, just had Alice touch Aro’s hand, and he goes “Ah, I see, cheerio.”

The end credits were pretty funny, “here are these random characters with bit parts in previous movies, isn’t this nostalgic?”. Nice try, movie. The fact this came after an extended clip show of the great romance of Edward and Bella, through blurry montage images that failed to be convincing in their original films let alone this one, just made it even more hilarious. Hope you didn’t completely ruin the director’s career, though honestly you should a bit.

5. Breaking Dawn Part One

As you can probably tell by the above entries, the fact that this is the worst one is really saying something. All the movies were hard to watch, but this one required pure strength of will to power through.

The big issue is that Breaking Dawn shouldn’t have been split in the first place. However, it was, and that meant that we got a movie that was almost entirely filler. (Followed, somehow, by a movie that was also largely filler.)

We get everybody preparing for the wedding. What do Mike and Jessica think of Bella and Edward getting married? What’s that, you don’t care? Well, now you know anyway. We get the full wedding, as in the whole fucking thing, including the afterparty. We get Bella and Edward traveling to their island, and there’s filler in the filler where they go clubbing in Rio. We then get every minute detail of the wedding night followed by every minute detail of the honeymoon.

There’s fanservice, and then there’s this. This was live action fanfiction.

NOTHING that in any way is relevant to the story happens, the closest we get is Irina looking stoned. Too bad the Denali’ refusal to help out in Eclipse was cut from the last movie, in fact I’m not sure they were mentioned at all previously in these movies (I think maybe Edward had a one-line reference in Twilight?) so this means nothing to people who haven’t read the books.

We then get to the pregnancy arc, which could have been Rosemary’s Baby but is instead as outrageously boring as the first half of the movie was. The director must have realized as much, because he gives us Jacob’s alpha plot that should have been cut from the movie (yes, I know it was in the books, but the thing about adaptations is that things have to go. For the record, I think Meyer should have cut it too). That subplot was straight out of an anime, by the way. Jacob claiming his ancestral rights as alpha while listing off his titles and the soaring music, was… every shounen anime, ever. Complete with the shitty voice acting.

It was a soul-crushingly boring movie.

-

Something that screws over the last four movies is that they were made to feed the fangirls, and generate revenue because the producers knew the fans were coming to watch the books they liked come to life, so they just had to throw scenes from the books and into the movies and let the magic happen. This is a terrible way to adapt something.

Special shoutout too to having to watch Taylor Lautner run around shirtless in four out of five movies. That was very uncomfortable and none of us needed that in our lives, Lautner included.

Super special shoutout to the fact that we disagree with nearly all the casting.

And this isn’t the post for that, but all of the characters were butchered. Some more than others, and some more insidiously than others. It’s the big things, like Carlisle’s character being turned on its head since he thinks all vampires are damned, exactly the opposite of what he thinks in the books, and the little things, like Jasper and Bella being buddies who bicker fondly in New Moon. 

Then the books:

1. Midnight Sun

HANDS DOWN. This is easily our favorite thing to come out of the entire Twilight franchise.

Edward is every kind of crazy at the same time, all the time, and it makes every single sentence packed with delirious entertainment. Reading this book is having a stroke, a psychotic episode, and watching five different true crime shows all at once. We adore every letter of it. (That’s no exaggeration, we even laughed about Edward capitalizing “Son” when Carlisle refers to him as “son” in conversation.)

The book was more than we’d dared to hope for, one of those rare books that makes you go “This was written just for me.”

2. Twilight

The one that started it all.

Vampires are wonderfully creepy. Things like Bella staring at Carlisle acting like the mundane town doctor shortly after learning just how old he is, Alice explaining how vampires kill all, and the uncanny valley perfection of the Cullens all add to the otherness of these vampires, and the general atmosphere of the book.

The love story is convincing. Edward seen through the eyes of Bella is wonderful, the red flags are there but if it weren’t for the books that followed we wouldn’t have decried the ship the way we do.

3. Eclipse

Breaking Dawn is the more interesting book, but Eclipse has less things we outright don’t like. We get to know all the characters better, Edward and Bella are their usual beautiful selves, and it’s overall peak Twilight.

4. Breaking Dawn

Would have ranked much higher, we like what it did. Without it we wouldn’t be in this fandom now, as it brought so much amazing content. The baby plot is fine by us, Carlisle’s friends are great, the Volturi confrontation is a beautiful, if bleak culmination of preventable events. There’s a lot of great stuff in this book.

Unfortunately, and there’s just no diplomatic way to put this, so I’ll just come out with it: there’s too much Jacob.

He no longer had a reason to be in the story, given the way Eclipse ended he had every reason not to be in it. In spite of that we get an entire third of the book from his point of view, and then damned if he’s not shoehorned into the last third as well. He added absolutely nothing to the story, he was just there taking up space and being possessive of a toddler. His POV section was tough to get through, and his presence in book three was just painful. He should have been cut.

5. New Moon

This was the book we had to power through. There are some very good things in it, most notably the Volturi scene, but the Muffin and I enjoy Twilight for the vampires, and that makes Laurent and Hallucination!Edward the highlights of the part of the book where Edward is gone.

There’s also the fact that Jacob isn’t a very compelling character. He has to carry the book now that the Cullens aren’t doing it, and he simply isn’t up for it.

-

Yes, we’re aware that these books are ranked according to how much Jacob is in them. We don’t even hate him, not at all, it’s just that he’s boring.

(That being said, the books at their worst are better than the movies at their best. Jacob narrating his perfect playdate with Renesmée would still be preferable to… I’m trying to think of a good scene from the movies. Hm, nevermind.)

As for The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner and Life and Death, only I have read Bree Tanner and I don’t remember it well enough to give a proper assessment. I was bored with the OCs, though, bored to tears, throughout that book I was itching for Victoria and the Cullens. We have not read Life and Death, but we’re offended by its existence so it ranks bottom.

[finiteuniverse13]

home is people, not a place 2/?

Part 1

Summary: Clay gets attacked on base. DEVGRU finds an issue in that.

TW: Blood mention, physical assault, canon typical violence

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Lisa is pissed. She has every right to be. Clay had been attacked in the Bravo cages.

She’d watched the kid go from a strap who couldn’t stay in his own lane to an operator who could lead Bravo – and Tier One, for that matter – into the future. And then he’d been attacked in his team’s cages, in his own cage. Blackburn was still at the hospital – he’d found the kid in a pool of his own blood; Lisa wouldn’t blame him if it took an apocalypse to separate him from the kid – making sure that the kid got appropriate care.

She pushed open the door to Bravo’s briefing room, not that it actually had any members of Bravo in it. Alpha, Charlie and Delta were all there, waiting on her brief on the situation. Echo would have been there, if not for them being halfway through their first deployment as a team. There had been hesitation about deploying Echo – the loss of the last Echo line-up still sat heavily in the Tier’s mind.

The three team’s Master Chiefs and 2ICs had sat in Bravo’s usual chairs. Full Metal and Derek sat in Jason and Ray’s chairs, respectively. Beau and his second in command had taken Sonny and Trent’s, while TJ was sat in Brock’s. Delta Two had distinctively chosen not to sit in Clay’s seat, instead sitting in a chair usually used for either Cerberus or a support staff member, depending on the op.

(It was very funny to watch Brock and Clay push a wheely chair with Cerberus on it between the two of them, and they’d pretty much mastered the art of doing it in the last few months. Cerb had found that if he allowed it to happen, he’d get belly rubs and treats, so he was unbothered about it)

The other seats had a random assignment, seemingly first-come-first-serve. The ones unlucky enough to have not found seats stood tensely, arms crossed and grumbling under their breath to each other.

Nobody sat in Clay’s seat.

All 18 operators looked up when she walked in, attention snapping to the person with the most information. As she walked in, her gaze caught on the table space in front of Clay’s chair. Clay had left his book on the table. It’s about as thick as a brick, and Sonny would probably take a glance at it and tell Clay it was as dry as one. The embossed cover didn’t read English, and Lisa had a feeling that there would be very few, if any, people in the room able to read any part of the book.

She stood at the front and pushed her emotions down. These operators were here for information, not emotion.

“At 0145 this morning, 4 Green Team members entered Bravo’s Cage room. At 0157, they left, and returned to the Green Team barracks. 0204, Lieutenant Commander Blackburn entered the Bravo cages. He dialled 911 and was assisted by Alpha Four-”

She cuts herself off for a few seconds, as various operators slapped Jordan on the back, mumbled thanks spreading through the room as they reassured themselves that one of their own had helped their kid.

“Assisted by Alpha Four at 0207. Ambulance arrived at 0215. The Green Team members were apprehended by Alpha and Delta at 0248.”

She pauses again as a ripple of thanks goes through to room, Alpha and Delta thanking their Master Chiefs and each other and Charlie thanking both teams.

“Petty Officer Spenser was admitted to hospital at 0224, and was assessed as having a concussion, a broken nose and 5 bruised ribs.”

Alpha, Charlie and Delta’s medics all take note of this. They’re probably going to be on Clay’s ass for the next few months about this, right behind Trent.

“Bravo arrived at the Hospital at 0243. They are all with him. Hayes has asked that he is included in any appropriate punishments.”

Full Metal snorts. “Bet he didn’t word it like that”

A series of chuckles and grins echoes around the room. He did not word it like that. There was much more swearing, and much, much less formal language. He’d implied murder no less than 5 times.

Lisa allowed a smile to pass through the stony calm façade she had up.

“Command has delegated these appropriate punishments to be carried out within DEVGRU and have stressed the importance of leaving an impression on future graduates. This cannot be a recuring event.”

TJ pipes up first, almost before she’d finished talking. “I say we let Metal work his magic, make sure nobody finds them.”

This gets mixed responses, but Lisa isn’t surprised when none are wholly negative. They all had a younger brother in the form of Clay, and they had all trained for years in the art of killing their enemies as swiftly and efficiently as possible, and these candidates fell wholly and completely under the title of ‘Enemy’.

Metal gives a faux hopeful look to Lisa, and Lisa can tell that he’s not entirely dismissed the possibility, even as he does a terrible job at pretending to still consider it an option that Lisa could authorize. Lisa plays into the joke – god knows that Tier One needs some light in this disastrous day – and gives him the look mostly used for when Bravo (usually Sonny) suggests a stupid idea that shouldn’t had even crossed their minds. Blackburn jokingly referred to it as her “bad dog” look, and it worked for its purpose, making the operators put their tails between their legs. A few faces form smiles, and a few look to be wavering on the edge of smiling.

“No murder, and no death.”

This gets her grumbles, and not all of them are joking. Clay had gotten all of them out of sticky situations. Every operator in Tier One had a handful story where Clay had needed to be briefed on their op, and all of them had at least one where he’d taking calls at 2am to translate over a connection that he could barely hear English through. He’d never berated them for waking him up, and had often taken time to teach various operators key phrases, if he knew they were deploying somewhere where he knew the language.

Beau goes next, possibly the most level-headed of the Master Chiefs – both in the room and not. “Advanced SERE?”

Now this, Lisa can work with. Something about her posture must change, a twitch in her face, because the room suddenly erupts in sound. Charlie Two, Delta Five and Alpha Three all are in close enough range to clap Beau on the back, and they do so in quick succession.

“Gentlemen.” She raises her voice to be heard by the room. There’s nothing gentle about the looks on their faces.

“I’ll leave you to figure something out. Report to me with a plan of action.” And with that, she gives them a single nod and begins to leave. Her turned back does not block out the whispers of violence, but it does hide the vicious smile that’s stretched itself out along her face.

Nobody would even think about hurting their kid. Ever again.

+

As Clay blearily opened his eyes, he realised that he’d succumbed to pain-med-induced sleep. A few hours had probably passed since then, based on the fact that sunlight was now filling the room. Sonny was sat on his right side, gaze focused on the room’s TV screen, which was showing a play-by-play of a football game. The volume was cranked down, and even as Clay becomes more aware; he can only hear every other word.

“Son?” The word passes his lips without him meaning it to. Sonny’s head snaps over to Clay, so fast that Clay fears he may have given himself whiplash.

“Hey Bam Bam, how ya doin?” The toothpick moves hypnotically. Stop looking at the toothpick. Stop it. Stop it. Sonny’s casual expression is betrayed by the slight waver in his voice, a sliver of raw emotion that Sonny couldn’t fully supress. Clay gives him a strained smile in lieu of answering and reaches his hand out. Sonny catches the hand before it moves very far, holding it in a tight grip.

Sonny’s thumb absently runs across Clay’s unblemished because he hadn’t even been able to fight back knuckles, and his spare hand turns off the TV, leaving them in silence.

“Kid.” Clay’s eyes widen slightly, and he almost pulls his hand out of Sonny’s grip at the softly spoken word. He tries to get in the apology, the explanation, before Sonny can tell him that Jason is punishing him for being unaware.

“I should have being paying attention. I know I should have been paying attention, I was just so tired.” I’m sorry I’m so sorry don’t kick me out please

Sonny freezes. What?

“Clay. Stop. Stop-” he has to cut himself off before he says something that includes those really touchy-feely-emotions he’s feeling. Thankfully, Clay doesn’t take the pause as an opportunity to continue. “Stop trying to defend yourself. None of us blame you, Blondie. You were on base. You should have been protected. We won’t fail you again.” Sonny gives him facts, because he knows that if he tries to do anything else he’ll make it worse.

“Son?” Clay recalls a voice calling through the dark, through the black water he was floating in, a voice he’d recognised; “Did Blackburn find me? He- he had blood on his hands”

For a moment, Sonny curses Clay’s blessings as a sniper. He’d always been able to notice the little things, the things none of them would notice. “Yeah, he was checking that none of us were sleeping in the cages.”

Clay nods, and then his brows furrow. He breaks eye contact with Sonny and frowns in the genal direction of his feet. His face makes what Sonny calls his ‘Brainiac’ Face, and Sonny can only assume that he’s thinking about what happened with Blackburn, not rationalizing with himself that the beating was somehow his fault.

“Son, can I talk to him?” Sonny doesn’t want to think about whatever that conversation is going to be, so he nods and begins to gather his stuff. His cap is hanging precariously from one on the bed’s corners, his phone on the bedside table. He stands and ruffles Clay’s head, laughing despite the stink-eye he gets for it. Clay doesn’t mind it, and he has the feeling the next few weeks, if not months, are going to be filled with various forms of physical contact to reassure his teammates that he was still with them.

And now he’d asked Sonny to get Blackburn. God what do you even say to the guy who had found you beaten? ‘Hey Boss, I’m sure that what you saw was horrifying, but I’m alright now?’ God help him. Sonny hadn’t given him a weird look, so he’d probably been expecting Clay to ask at some point.

Clay’s train of thought is interrupted when a soft knock sounds on the door. There’s a second of pause before the door opens. Clay can’t think of a time when Blackburn’s looked worse. There are dark circles under his eyes, and a vaguely haunted look in his eyes. His eyes have a red tinge, and Clay can’t tell if that’s from sleep deprivation, or something else. His hands are rubbed red and raw, and Clay can tell that Blackburn had taken extra care to get every fleck of blood off his hands. He’s in a jacket that looks too big for him, and Clay suspects that Trent had a hand in that. Since the injured person – Clay – wasn’t someone he could immediately care for, Trent had gone for the next best thing, a shaken Blackburn. Under the jacket, he’s still in his fatigues, and by the time he’s finished the assessment of Blackburn’s top half, he’d moved close and sat down, hiding everything below his waist from Clay’s view.

Blackburn reaches out, putting a palm on Clay’s forearm, Clay’s hand mirrors it on Blackburn’s arm, and tension bleeds from Blackburn’s figure. His shoulders slump slightly, and he leans forward.

“How are you feeling?”

Clay considers lying, considers saying that he’s not in any pain, considers easing Blackburn’s mind. He decides against it. Blackburn had found him in a pool of blood, it’s the least he can do to tell him the truth. “My ribs hurt. But I’m, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you were there.”

Clay is the sometimes literally bleeding heart of Bravo, levelling out Sonny’s emotional constipation, and the admission is the balm of some of the burns on Eric’s soul. Eric leaned forwards, shuffling closer to the bed, trying to hide the blood on his knees. He hadn’t been home to change, a call to his wife at 8am had told her that he wasn’t going to be home for a while. She, like the amazing wife she was, had been understanding, and then grumbled at him to let her sleep. They’d both laughed and exchanged ‘I love you’s before his wife ended the call. Clay didn’t need the stress of knowing that Eric had knelt in his blood. Nobody needs that.

“Gave me quite a scare, gave all of us quite a scare.” Eric doesn’t tell him that he’d spent the last half hour scrubbing his hands raw, that Jason had needed to strong-arm him into the waiting room, that Trent had given him one look and offered up his jacket, that he’d had his head in his hands until Sonny had come into the room and told him that Clay wanted to talk to him. Doesn’t tell him that he’d stood outside for nearly a minute before he’d knocked, that he’d needed to barrel in before he lost the nerve to speak to his operator. He usually prides himself on staying calm, on being collected, but Clay had been attacked in one of the few places on earth that he could honestly and without reservation call home. That scared Eric. If he couldn’t keep his operators safe on base, where would they be safe?

“Davis is talking to command about adding locks to the cage room doors, make sure this doesn’t happen again.” If she wasn’t already talking to command about it, she would be soon.

Clay nods. He shifts and grimaces in pain.

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” It’s a safe question, one that doesn’t involve the emotions in the room.

Clay ignores the lifeline. “I’m alright as I am. Did you get the guys?”

Eric nods. Breaking the news to Bravo had been the highlight of his morning. “Command is letting DEVGRU work out how to punish them.”

Clay grins. “I bet Metal is having fun with that.”

It’s Eric’s turn to smile, and a soft chuckle makes its way out. “Davis is under strict orders to not accept a plan that involves murder. I’m sure Alpha’s disagreeing with that.”

Alpha was most likely to deploy with Bravo, and all were in line with their Master Chief’s ‘Bury-first-questions-second’ policy when it came to Clay. Eric had a feeling it wouldn’t take much convincing to get Delta and Echo behind the plan, and that Charlie would only argue on principle.

Tier One was a brotherhood that didn’t take kindly to injury, as the world would learn.

+

Echo One – Zack Greer – a newly promoted Delta Two, wasn’t a very outgoing man. One and Twos were meant to both complement and contrast each other, a precarious balancing act honed over years of living out of each other’s pockets. TJ had needed a level head, so his Two was calm in the face of crisis.

Echo Two, on the other hand. A Floridian man, Elliot Howe, promoted from Charlie Three, who was under strict orders to never drink unsupervised with Sonny Quinn, lest they empty a bar and then burn said bar to the ground. He’d chaffed under Beau’s tight ship, so when the opportunity to move to form Echo had arisen, he was hard pushed to say no.

Together with Echo Three (Alpha Three), Echo Four (Delta Six) and two Green Team graduates as their Five and Six, they’d created a tight brotherhood.

Echo Five, Dan Wilder, a multilingual K9 handler, had initially been lost at DEVGRU, not quite fitting in. He’d reached out to the youngest operator – Bravo Six – in order to get some advice. What he didn’t know at the time is that their languages had overlap. Together with Clay and Ares – his K9 – he’d been able to find someone to practice with.

Echo had long since lost count of how many times Clay had come into their cage room, with a well-loved book, offering it to Dan with a brief explanation of how it would interest him. The book was never in English, and neither was the explanation. For all they knew, Clay could have spent the last few months giving Dan anything from Harry Potter to The Anarchist’s Cookbook (he’d actually only given Dan one of those, and Dan was under strict instructions not to tell them which, and Dan had been recommending others back).

Sonny, on the days when they were hanging out after work, sometimes tagged along to these exchanges. He’d joked about a book club, and Echo Two had picked up on the joke immediately, and since then the pair had resigned themselves to the nickname.

Between Clay’s frequent interactions with Dan and the fact that all of DEVGRU was deadly protective of Clay, it was no surprise that when Echo had heard the news, they hadn’t been happy. Command had fought a battle with Echo to keep them deployed, and Echo had nearly won. Dan had been on many rants, talking to empty space in Pashto – Four only caught a few words, and those were all along the lines of murder and death. Ares was giving out a low, constant growl. Both of the DEVGRU K9s were as protective as their owners, it seemed.

The door to their dorms slammed open and Zack marched in. Echo looks up in sync, and if it weren’t so serious, Zack would be amused by how much his men look like Meerkats. “Got word from Virginia.” This sets his men on edge, Howe half-steps forward, and his shoulders visibly tense up. “They found the green team rookies. We’ve been asked to approve the plan of their punishment before it gets sent to be approved by command.” Malicious smiles break out among the barracks.

They may be 7000 miles away, but they wouldn’t let anybody off the hook because of it.

[amazingmsme]

Hng I have so many thoughts about Trevor being in the ruines of his childhood home, have this sneak peak of my castlevania fic. I promise the whole thing isn’t this dark & sad. At this rate it should be finished fairly soon tho.

He sat hunched over at a table reading some book. Alucard was keeping an eye on him. He’d been acting strange, flinching and looking around as though he’d been touched. Little did he know, he had been. When Trevor hummed and looked over his shoulder expecting to see someone, he froze upon finding he was alone, and an unsettled look overtook his features as he hunched closer to the book he was reading.

“Is everything alright?” he walked up to him and asked. Trevor heaved a sigh.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he mumbled, eyes trained on the page in front of him.

“Maybe, but I might surprise you. Go on, try me,” he spoke gently. Trevor studied him, deciding if he should be honest or not.

“Do you ever… see things?” he asked tentatively. Alucard smirked.

“I see things all the time. Constantly in fact,” he teased. Trevor snorted and rolled his eyes. “It’s a little thing called sight.”

“Shut up, you know that’s not what I meant. If I wanted the word of a wisecracking smart ass, I’d talk to myself,” he sassed back. Alucard held his hands up in surrender.

“Relax, I was only joking. You do remember what that is, don’t you?” he teased.

“Of course I do. What the fuck is that supposed to even mean? Do I remember,” he mocked the last bit, mostly just to complain to himself. Alucard had come this far, he might as well be upfront about it.

“You just haven’t been yourself lately. Just wanted to check and make sure you still know how to crack a joke or smile.”

Maybe it was the fact he didn’t like his friends to worry, or he didn’t like how well they could read him. It could’ve been all the emotions swirling through his mind like a twister that made him snap. Or perhaps he couldn’t take the quick glimpse of another dead relative, or a distant call of his name. He shot up from his chair, making a loud scooting noise on the stone and almost tipping the it over.

“Of course I can! I just- I’ve been dealing with a lot of shit- more than you or Sypha could care to know-so excuse me if I don’t feel like my normal self,” he snarked defensively. Alucard looked slightly taken aback by the outburst, and Trever felt a little guilty. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Sorry for going off like that. Y-you didn’t deserve it, you were just trying to check up on me.” He turned to leave, looking back over his shoulder. “Just… don’t worry about me. I’ll be back to my old self as soon as we leave.”

“It’s alright. Trevor!” he called after him, but he was already walking out of the library. Once he was gone, Sypha walked up to him.

“What was that about?” she asked, propping her hands on her hips. Alucard shrugged, shaking his head.

“I don’t know, but he’s clearly upset. I’ll give him some time, then I’ll go talk to him,” he said, taking up reading the abandoned book.

“I don’t think this house is empty,” Sypha spoke.

“Hm?” he hummed, looking up curiously.

“I don’t know, I just can sense it. There’s a lot of energy here. It’s… sad and overwhelming at times. It’s definitely taken its toll on him,” she reasoned.

“He asked if I saw things,” he said, starting to piece things together.

Sypha nodded. “I’ve noticed him staring off into space a few times. He’s probably seeing people…” she trailed off as the full meaning of her words settled in her mind. He was probably seeing his dead family. She shivered. “No wonder he’s been so, so off,” she said, hugging herself slightly. “I’ve seen a few shadows out of the corner of my eye, but I’m used to that by now. It’s been worse for him.”

They were both silent, and Sypha went back to do her own browsing. Alucard spoke to the empty air around him.

“I… don’t know if anyone’s there, but could you cut Trevor a break? He sees you, alright? But it’s time to leave him the fuck alone. Okay?” He didn’t know if it would work, or if there was even anyone yo hear. But he felt obligated to at least try.

Trevor stormed out of the library and through the crumbling, vacant halls of his childhood home. The longer he walked, he slowly began to calm down. He trailed a hand over the worn brick of the wall as he walked. He sighed, throwing his head back to watch the ceiling. He didn’t even realize he’d been heading towards his old room until he stood in front of a familiar door. He let out a small huff of disbelief.

The door was cracked down the middle, the wood growing soft from decay. He pushed it open gently, staring into his childhood bedroom. It remained untouched since the night he’d left, save for the thick layer of dust that covered everything. He swore it was an inch thick. The ceiling had a hole in it, a pile of rubble underneath it. He stepped over it, tracing the pattern carved into his old dresser. His fingers came away covered in dust that he wiped on his shirt.

His feet carried him over to the bed and he sat down heavily. Particles flew up in a cloud that nearly made him choke. He waved a hand in the air to clear it as he coughed, freezing as he spotted his old stuffed cat in the corner of his room. He leaned down in awe, picking it up and held it out in front of him.

“Hello again. Never thought I’d see you after everything. I would’ve taken you with me had I had the time,” he spoke to the stuffed animal, petting its head with a soft smile. It was his favorite toy as a child. He’d often carry it around the house, even sitting it in his lap for meal times.

He’d been so young when he left, he could’ve used the company. Even if it was just a lifeless toy. But for a child who’d just lost everything, the absence of his biggest comfort had taken a huge toll on him. He’d grown a lot since then, but in a way, he was still that same little boy. He hugged the cat to his chest, laying down on his bed.

Charlie. The cat’s name was Charlie, he remembered and a choked sob escaped him.

He was relieved. He was sad. Scared. Nostalgic. Angry. Oddly happy. He felt everything and nothing all at once. He was just numb. Right now, numbness was welcomed.

[livesincerely]

keepsakes

Also on Ao3

00000

Davey stops and stares, absolutely stunned.

“Jack,” he breathes.

“Hi, Davey,” Jack quietly greets, hands tucked deep into the pockets of his jacket.

“You...” Davey swallows around a sudden lump in his throat, a hand braced against the doorframe in an attempt to steady himself. “What are you doing here?”

“I got the address from Les,” Jack says, rocking a little on his feet. “I’m in town for the week visiting Ma and Charlie, thought I could swing by and see you for a sec.”

“Oh,” Davey says, still trying to process the fact that Jack is here, that Jack’s actually here, standing outside of Davey’s door. His hair’s a touch shorter, his skin a bit tanner, but he’s still Jack.

He’s still Jack.

“So, uh, can I come in?” Jack asks.

“Oh, right.” Davey gives himself a little shake, then takes a step back and holds the door open wider. “Yeah, sure. Please, come in.”

“You moved out of the old place,” Jack comments as his eyes rove around Davey’s modest entry and living room, and his tone is casual but the words are weighted with an unspoken question.

“It was a bit too much for just one person,” Davey says, averting his eyes. “A smaller apartment is easier to keep up with.”

He doesn’t mention that he hadn’t been able to afford the rent for their old apartment by himself, or that even if he had been, all the reminders of their life together, all the hollowed out spaces Jack had left in his wake—the places he used to be but isn’t anymore—would’ve driven him away regardless.

“Can I get you anything?” Davey asks after a brief pause. “Soda or coffee or...?”

“Coffee would be great, actually,” Jack says. “But, uh, only if it won’t put ya out.”

“It’s no trouble,” Davey says. “Here, go ahead and sit down and I’ll fix you a cup.”

He leaves Jack to pull up a stool at the counter while he pulls two mug out of the cabinet, turning on the coffee maker with a quick press of a button.

“So, how have you been?” Davey asks, careful to keep his head down and his voice light as he waits for the coffee to brew. “How’s Santa Fe been treating you?”

“‘S good,” Jack says. “It’s great, it’s got everything: clear skies, gorgeous sunsets. If you go out to the desert at the right time of day the views are unreal. So, uh, life’s pretty good.”

“And work’s going well?”

“Real well,” Jack confirms. “Now that I’ve been there a while they’re startin’ to give me my own projects to work on, which is great. Nerve racking, and I’m constantly terrified that I’m gonna fuck it all up, but great. Honestly, the studio space and the stipend I get for supplies on its own is pretty incredible, let alone all the experience and connections I’m getting too. So, yeah, things are goin’ well.”

“That’s great, Jack,” Davey says, even as his heart gives a painful little lurch. “I’m glad things are working out for you.”

“Couldn’t ask for much more,” Jack responds, and the way he says it is strange—strange enough that Davey risks a glance at his face. But Jack’s expression is flat and impassive, giving nothing away. “How’re you doin’, Davey?”

“Good,” Davey says, turning back to the coffee maker. “I’ve been good.”

“Yeah?” Jack asks. “Anythin’ interestin’ goin’ on?”

“Just the same old, same old,” Davey replies. “Nothing new to tell, honestly.”

“Nothing at all?” Davey can’t tell if Jack sounds disappointed or relieved. “Did you ever end up gettin’ that transfer you wanted?”

“I, uh, rescinded the request after you— after everything,” Davey answers, watching the the coffee bubble and drip, his chest tight. “There wasn’t really a need, and it was easier to just stay at my old branch.”

“Oh,” Jack says. 

The silence stretches between them, stiff and heavy and awkward. Instead of coming up with something to fill it, Davey busies himself with serving up their coffee, fixing one mug with his usual creamer, then the other with even more cream and a heaping spoonful of sugar, which he sets gently in front of Jack.

“Here you go,” he murmurs. 

Davey takes a small sip of his own coffee, trying to decide what’d be worse: asking Jack another question and having to listen to him talk about how wonderful and perfect his life in Santa Fe has been or just sitting there quietly and trying to pretend like this whole situation isn’t agonizing. 

He tries, “So, um, have you had the chance to—”

“What the fuck, Davey?” Jack bites out. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Davey freezes, eyes wide. Jack’s holding his mug in both hands—like he was about to take a drink and got distracted halfway there—and the look on his face is one of absolute fury. 

“Why do you still have this?” Jack demands, setting it down so hard that a bit of coffee sloshes over the side. “Why would you keep—?”

Davey looks, and then he realizes. The mug is a simple, sturdy thing, bigger than most of his other ones so he doesn’t have to refill it as often. He’d grabbed it out of habit—it’s always sitting near the front of the cabinet because of how often he uses it, and he honestly hadn’t thought anything of it.

But now he’s seeing what Jack sees: the trellis of flowers that encircle the rim, painstakingly painted by a careful hand in yellows, golds, and blues. Remembers the smell of the clay and the rainbow wall of glaze, remembers the satisfied grin that had turned so sheepish and shy when they returned a few days later to pick up their creations, remembers the flutter in his stomach as he reached out for the surprise gift, remembers the thrill of electricity when their fingers brushed…

Davey swallows.

“Why wouldn’t I keep it,” he says in as even a tone as he can manage. “It’s mine, isn’t it?”

“Oh, so that’s where you draw the line, huh?” Jack says, and his voice his like the rumble before a storm rolls in. “That’s how it is? Knick knacks, keepsakes, sure, those you’ll keep around, but the stuff that’s actually worth having? That’s actually worth fighting for? You can just let all that go without ever sayin’ a fuckin’ word otherwise because who gives a shit—”

And suddenly Davey’s furious too.

“Right, because you were so fucking eager to stay?” he asks with a derisive scoff. “Give me a break, Jack, you couldn’t wait to leave. Just fucked off to the other side of the country and left me here to pick up the pieces—”

“You were all but pushing me out the fucking door!” Jack yells, throwing his hands up. “‘It’s a wonderful opportunity, Jackie,’ ‘You’d be an idiot not to take it, Jackie,’ ‘It’s what you’ve always dreamed of, Jackie!’ What a load of horseshit—”

“Oh, so it’s my fault for being supportive?’ Davey asks, incredulous. “Are you serious?”

“I’m just sayin’, you weren’t exactly bent outta shape at the thought of me leavin’,” Jack says coldly. “Didn’t seem to bother you one fuckin’ bit. Probably relieved to finally have an excuse to get rid of me—”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Davey hisses, stepping forward until they’re standing nearly chest to chest. “I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe, missed you every single goddamn second of the last eight months, don’t think for a moment that I didn’t, you fucking asshole.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jack asks, chin lifted in challenge. “If you missed me so fucking much, then why’d we break up?”

“Because you were moving to Santa Fe!” Davey yells, completely fed up. “You were leaving, Jackie! What else was I supposed to do, except let you go and try my best to be happy for you?”

“If you really wanted me to be happy,” Jack growls, “you would’ve come with me.”

“You didn’t ask me to come with you!”

“And you didn’t ask me to stay!” Jack roars back.

“Ask you to stay? Ask you to stay?” Davey says, a wave of emotion stinging at his eyes, a note of hysteria shredding his voice, something aching and frenzied clawing at his chest. “Of course I didn’t fucking ask you to stay, I was never going to ask you to stay! It was Santa Fe, it was all you ever fucking talked about, it was your dream, Jack! It was everything that you wanted! I would never even suggest that you give that up, God, what kind of shit-ass person do you think I am, that you thought I would ever, ever try to stand between you and Santa Fe when I know how important it is to you—?”

“I’m not fucking hearing this,” Jack says, with a frantic, jerky shake of his head. “I am not fucking hearing this. I— You—“

He rakes a hand haphazardly through his hair, the other pointed accusingly at Davey’s chest, jaw clenched and eyes glittering. His throat works silently for a moment, two moments, then he turns on his heel and storms out, the apartment door slamming behind him with a thunderous bang!

And Jack’s gone, tearing right back out of Davey’s life like he’d never returned in the first place, the abandoned coffee mug the only evidence that he’d ever been there at all.

And Davey’s alone, his heart pounding a lurching, deafening beat in his ears, the churning, curdling, swirling feeling in his gut a perfect mirror to how he’d felt all those months ago, quietly, impossibly heartbroken as he watched Jack walk away.

Davey takes a shivering, shuddering breath, scrubbing a trembling hand across his mouth. Fuck.

He might’ve been standing there for thirty seconds or thirty minutes when the front door swings open again. Davey’s head whips up just in time to see Jack step inside, closing the door behind him with a soft, purposeful click. Then he can only watch as Jack stalks forward, eyes blazing, fists his hands in the front of Davey’s shirt, and drags him into a bruising, desperate kiss. 

“I love you,” Jack says. “I love you. I loved you before I got the job offer, I loved you while I was searching for apartments and planning the move, I loved you every time I talked up Santa Fe to you, tryin’ to convince you to come with me any way I could think of. I loved you when we broke up, I loved you when I left, I loved you when I landed, and it’s been eight fucking months and I’m still so fucking in love with you—”

Davey interrupts him with another heart stopping kiss, threading his fingers in Jack’s hair as he pulls him closer. They still fit together so perfectly, lips and teeth and tongues all moving together like they’d never been parted, and its so good that Davey could almost cry with it because he’d never thought he would have this again.

“I love you too, Jackie,” Davey promises. “I love you and I’ve missed you so much—”

“I missed you,” Jack says, punctuating the declaration with another kiss. “You’re it for me Davey. There’s just you. And I… I can’t give this up again. Santa Fe ain’t worth nothin’ if you’re not there with me.”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Davey murmurs, and its a confession and an apology. “I thought I had to let you go.”

Jack shakes his head. 

“I wanted you to keep me,” he whispers against Davey’s lips. “And I wanted to keep you too.”

“Then keep me,” Davey says. He realizes now, that it’s as simple as that. “Keep me.”

00000

Jack’s pov here

Tag List!: @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside @corbinthecowboy @stroopwafeldetective

[cristalconnors]

TOP 20 SONGS OF 2020

20. “BELOW THE CLAVICLE”- EARTHEATER

“The meaning hasn’t come up yet. It’s still under the surface below the clavicle.”

It isn’t just Alexandra Drewchin’s ear splitting soprano when she hits that impossibly high B, practically shrieking out the “cle” syllable of clavicle, though that’s undoubtedly when I first knew that Eartheater’s avant folk was for me- it’s also the cinematic, lush strings, both bowed and plucked (is that acoustic guitar or harp? I genuinely can’t tell), deepening and complicating the sonic texture of Drewchin’s study of parsing through emotions you aren’t ready to make sense of yet. 

19. “PUSSY TALK”- CITY GIRLS, FT. DOJA CAT

“This pussy so ghetto, this pussy speak ebonics”

“WAP”’s funnier, classless Irish twin, though it’s important to note “Pussy Talk” came first. Yung Miami and JT enlist Doja Cat to expound on everything their pussies deserve and will absolutely settle for nothing less than. And why should they when they’re spitting out verses this inspiredly hilarious with such confidence and flow? 

18. “LICK IN HEAVEN”- JESSY LANZA

“Once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning...”

Jessy Lanza is talking about losing your cool, letting your emotions get the best of you and lashing out instead of letting cooler heads prevail, but when that earworm of a chorus hits- “once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning” - I can’t stop spinning. I’m that woman on the single art, a wine mom lost in the delirium of the dance floor and in Lanza’s hypnotic, fragmented rhythms.  

17. “GASLIGHTER”- THE CHICKS

“Boy, you know exactly what you did on my boat!”

“Gaslighter” finds Natalie Ames and her Chicks at their most simultaneously ruthless and ebullient, ripping Ames’s ex-husband Adrian Pasdar a new asshole and ratcheting up the righteous anger of “Goodbye Earl” tenfold, channeling it into a glorious wall of sound in what might be their most rousing, emotionally resonant chorus in their storied career. 

16. “HANNAH SUN”- LOMELDA

“Hannah do no harm...”

While “Hannah Sun” begins as an exquisitely observed rumination on grappling with long-distance, pining for someone who’s a continent away, it gradually becomes clear that Hannah Read blames herself for putting the distance between her and the subject of her longing, and that the distance isn’t strictly literal. Skittering synths (or is that distorted flute?) complicate and enrich the texture of the song, allowing it to build organically and stunningly towards a heartbreaking plea to herself- “Hannah, do no harm.”

15. “FIRE”- WAXAHATCHEE

“And when I turn back around will you drain me back out? Will you let me believe that I broke through?”

When I’d drive back and forth between Dallas and Austin over and over again when I was in college, I’d often get off I-35 past Waco and take the back roads through towns I’d never heard of, the sun setting spectacularly behind the titular hills of Hill Country that were beginning to roll out in earnest. I think about that a lot when listening to “Fire,” a song dripping in rural Americana that was, unsurprisingly, inspired by a road trip. We’ve probably all been Katie Crutchfield as she crossed the bridge into West Memphis- alone in the car, awed by the simple beauty of the American countryside, making speeches to ourselves about our past mistakes and figuring out a way forward. 

14. “3AM”- HAIM

“On the screen and in my jeans, just make me feel good.”

On an album full of genre departures and decidedly darker themes than we’ve typically heard from Haim in their near decade of syncopated bubblegum pop rock, “3AM” stands out not only as their most effective stab at pastiche, slipping into the trappings of contemporary R&B with shocking ease and gusto, but also as their most unabashedly fun track in their entire oeuvre. “I think you can hear the amount of joy and laughs we had making this song” Alana Haim tells Apple Music, and you absolutely can.

13. “QADIR”- NICK HAKIM

“We’re sinking down a hole without thinking about our loved ones who might be shrinking...”

I often wonder if I’m putting enough effort into maintaining my relationships with friends I don’t see regularly, who live several time zones away, living their own lives while I live mine. When the thought of sustaining simple correspondence becomes overwhelming, it’s easy for months to go by before you realize you haven’t spoken to one of your closest friends. “QADIR” plays less like a eulogy for a friend gone too soon (though of course it is that) than a plea to the listener to put in the work. It’s worth it. You never know when it’ll be too late.

12. “LEVITATING”- DUA LIPA

“Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes shining just the way we are.”

Just a few bars of that delightfully bouncy, extra-terrestrial beat is enough to launch me into space. It’s so refreshing to hear a song that remembers that pop is supposed to be joyful and is best when it’s a bit silly. When discussing this track with Apple Music, Dua Lipa cites Austin Powers as inspiration, elaborating that “if I do a video for this, Mike Meyers has to be in it.” Can’t you just see them together, performing a farcical pas de deux of seduction like the spiritual successor to “Beautiful Stranger?”

11. “RIQUIQUI”- ARCA

“Love in the face of fear! Fear in the face of God!”

Arca’s made a career of harnessing chaos and somehow making sense of it. On an album that finds her embracing more traditional, accessible song structures, “Riquiqui” is a reminder that even when working within an AB structure, she’s still breaking rules left and right and having a blast doing it. She’s also never sounded so ferociously empowered in either her femininity or in her Venezuelan identity, rattling off local colloquialisms with affection and verve without a second thought as to who’s going to understand it. 

10. “FANTASY”- AGAINST ALL LOGIC

“I think about you all the time...”

Or, the musical embodiment of this gif:

When Nicolas Jaar’s tormented synths and crunching beats give way to Beyoncé’s unmistakable alto, it is indeed quite the shock. But should it be? Even if 2017-2019 finds him ditching the dancefloor in favor of more severe, unforgiving soundscapes, his already varied career has shown us nothing’s off limits to him. So why not reinvent Beyoncé’s iconic “Baby Boy” into an industrial, vaguely sinister certified bop that arguably surpasses the original?

9. “PEOPLE, I’VE BEEN SAD”- CHRISTINE AND THE QUEENS

“If you disappear, then I’m disappearing, too.”

“People, I’ve been sad” plays out with the vulnerability and intimacy of a tumblr text post you put out in the middle of the night, only to hastily delete later when it gets no notes. It forgoes flowery language in favor of just getting to the point. “I’ve been sad.” Héloïse Adelaïde Letissier blows up this deceptively simple sentiment with richly layered textures and a big screen gloss not to offer any remedies but instead to offer solidarity. We’re all in this hell together.

8. “DESCRIBE”- PERFUME GENIUS

“Can you just find him for me?”

Mike Hadreas has never sounded so hopeless. Utilizing harsh, rattling guitar that would make Kevin Shields swoon, he conveys the experience of being so estranged from happiness and joy that you need to rely on others to describe the sensation to you. But how, when exploring darker textures than he ever has before, does he make despondency sound so divine? 

7. “4 AMERICAN DOLLARS”- U.S. GIRLS

“No matter how much you get to have, you will still die and that’s the only thing.”

Meg Remy picks up where she left off on “4 American Dollars,” reviving the subversive pastiche she mastered on In a Poem Unlimited, this time harnessing the power of funk to dismantle the fallacies we’re taught about the virtues of capitalism. Heavy stuff, but Remy makes it less didactic than joyous, ensuring the listener will be singing “I don’t believe in pennies and nickels and dimes and dollars and pesos and pounds and rupees and yen and rubles” until they start to wonder if maybe they shouldn’t, either. 

6. “STUPID LOVE”- LADY GAGA

“I freak out, I freak out, I freak out, I freak out!”

Due to a healthy spirit of contrarianism mixed with a touch of internalized homophobia and genuine bafflement at her universal appeal and praise, I was a proud Lady Gaga hater for as long as she’d been a cultural entity. I just didn’t get her at all and loved that about myself. Annoying, I know. 2020 was the year I was finally ready to let that all go. Just before the world fell apart in March, I was out at Flaming Saddles (RIP) with friends the night this song came out and by the sixteenth time it played, I understood why it was inducing such hysteria. This was a cultural shift. After a frustrating near-decade of Gaga subverting expectations so thoroughly that she was actively working against her strengths and sabotaging her cultural ubiquity in the process, coupled with the most frightening era of political upheaval in our lifetimes, she was finally ready to save us and be Lady Gaga again. Booming synth, drag sensibilities, absurd thematic conceits- all was right in the world. For the first time in a long time, people had something to be hopeful about, and as I danced that night, I felt that hope, too. 

5. “SHELLFISH MADEMOISELLE”- RÓISÍN MURPHY

“How dare you sentence me to a lifetime without dancing?”

As soon as that bass starts (the funkiest bassline in the history of music?) it’s like Róisín Murphy’s snake charming oboe, coaxing even the most stalwart curmudgeon onto the dancefloor and keeping them there, dancing frantically and involuntarily like the citizens of Strasbourg in 1518, trying their best to keep up with Murphy who isn’t even breaking a sweat, commanding the masses with a sultry remove, beckoning you closer, pulling you inexorably deeper into the mass of gyrating bodies and whispering in your ear “come and have a dance with yer mum.”

4. “PARTY 4 U”- CHARLI XCX

“I only threw this party for you...”

As PC Music / Bubblegum Bass / whatever you want to call it enters its second decade, Charli XCX proves not only that there’s still new textures to explore within it, but also that no one can exploit its artifice to get down to emotional truths like she can. How can she make something this slick sound so vulnerable? “I only threw this party for you” she croons over and over again over glorious syncopated synths that build exquisitely, reaching their climax only to immediately fall away, until it’s just her and her trusty autotune, pleading with the subject of the song to just come to the damn party. But they won’t, of course. They never do, do they?

3. “WAP”- CARDI B, FT. MEGAN THEE STALLION

“I want you to touch that lil’ dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat!”

Sometimes you just immediately know you’re living through a significant cultural moment. No, not COVID. I’m talking about the experience of hearing Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s instant classic “WAP” for the first time, a titanic meeting of the minds that finds both of them at the apex of their cultural influence and at their most undeniable. Can the argument be made that these two aren’t the two best rappers in the game right now? How could you hear this inspiredly filthy sex positive juggernaut, where Cardi and Megan are trading the sickest verses of their careers, and not think these two deserve the world? 

2. “KEROSENE!”- YVES TUMOR

“I can be your baby in real life, sugar. I can live in your dreams.”

If the 2010′s were all about the pop-ification of all music, trading in live instrumentation in favor of polished synths, 2020 forcefully announced the return of the electric guitar when Yves Tumor and Diana Gordon’s back and forth lustfully submissive declarations of desire suddenly gave way to that nasty guitar rip lifted from Uriah Heep’s “Weep in Silence” to announce yet another cultural shift in a year chock full of them- rock and roll was, indeed, here to stay. 

1. “I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME”- FIONA APPLE

“I move with the trees in the breeze, I know that time is elastic.”

We live and we learn. Years spent soul searching and on self-discovery shape us into better, smarter people, progressively knowing and understanding ourselves and the world around us more and more clearly, but Fiona Apple knows that none of that can quell the ferocious desire to be loved by someone. By anyone. By you, whoever that is. We can know that time is elastic and that when we’re gone all our particles will disband and disperse and then we’ll be back in the pulse, and we can know that none of this stuff actually matters, but still- we want, we want, we want. 

[fruitydiaz-archived]

you can have my back any day

4.14 speculation fic / eddie wakes up in the hospital

6,383 words

part two of healing together

AO3 link

The first thing Eddie feels when he wakes up is panic.

Everything’s a little foggy, a little blurry, and he can’t remember much of anything — and that’s never a good sign.

He struggles to open his eyes, his eyelids feel heavy. And then it all starts to rush at him quickly.

Charlie, Sheila, the eyedrops. She was poisoning him, her own kid, all for money — how sick is that?

But they got there in time and they had just closed the doors to the ambulance and Eddie was just talking to Buck in the middle of the street when — when —

His eyes fly open at the memory, at the sound piercing through the fog in his brain. A gunshot. A gunshot and a bullet cutting through the mass of his shoulder — and Buck.

He vaguely registers the sound of something beeping beside him, a loud, annoying sound — and there’s something in his throat. Panic claws its way up his chest and he feels it taking over his entire body. He doesn’t realize that he’s in a room surrounded by people until the nurses are at his side, gently holding his arms and easing him to relax back down against the bed.

He stares up at them with wild, panicked eyes, before he starts to relax. It’s not really a voluntary reaction, but he feels himself start to disappear into the fog again, his limbs going loose in heavy.

He’s been intubated. He’s awake in the hospital. He’s panicked. They need to sedate him again, just a little, just enough to remove the tube, enough to patch him up.

But he doesn’t want that — he wants to see Buck. The last thing he remembers is Buck, covered in blood, Buck on the ground, Buck staring at him helplessly as he bled out onto the street. He has to know he’s okay.

He tries to open his mouth to speak but, like everything else, it feels heavy. He doesn’t like feeling out of control of his body like this — hates it really. He just wants to see Buck, he just has to know he’s okay, that the shooter didn’t get him too. He has to see him.

Eddie’s unfixed gaze drops from the nurses’ faces, shifting to the foot of his bed while his eyelids start to fall shut. The last thing he sees is a blurry face — a birthmark and dark curls.

Buck.

The next time he wakes up — he’s not as panicked. His mouth and throat feel dry and scratchy, but he can swallow easier. Somewhere in the back of his mind he notes that the tube must’ve been taken out after he woke up the first time. That’s a good sign. His limbs still feel heavy, though, and his thoughts are thick and syrupy like molasses. He keeps sliding from one thought to another, never forming anything complete. It feels a little like he’s floating through time. He hates it.

Eventually, Eddie forces his eyes to open and he stares up at the bright white ceiling, before the sound of someone shifting to the right draws his attention. He blinks.

It’s Carla.

She smiles down at him, and it’s warm and comforting in a way that Eddie didn’t know he needed. Of course she would be here.

“Hey there, handsome,” She smiles, reaching out to brush his forehead lightly. He smiles and leans into the touch for a moment. It reminds him of something his sisters used to do, absentmindedly when they’d pile onto the couch to watch a movie together, when he was younger, way younger, way more innocent, when the only scars he had were from climbing trees and playing sports — not from bullets or fists.

He opens his mouth to speak but she shushes him, grabbing a paper cup with ice chips from the side table.

“I imagine you’re pretty parched after what you’ve been through,” She says, pulling a chip out of the cup and lifting it to Eddie’s mouth. He stares at her for a second and she stares back before he eventually opens his mouth and lets her slip the chip in. It's an instant relief, even though the cold is shocking. She slips him a couple of more before he nods to her and she puts the cup down and settles into the chair by his bed.

“I’m sorry you’re in a hospital again,” Eddie says eventually. His voice is rough, and it takes a lot of energy to speak, but he’s desperate to fill the silence, to hear the sounds of life around him.

“Especially so soon. I can’t imagine it’s easy being here after your dad. When Shannon died — for a couple of weeks I couldn’t even drive by a hospital without wanting to cry.”

He’s never said that before — and he’s surprised at how easily the admission slips out. But he doesn’t have a chance to feel embarrassed about it. Carla reaches out, covering his hand with her own.

“I know you’re not apologizing for getting shot by a sniper, Eddie.” He shrugs his good shoulder. “I would be here for you anytime, any day, you know that.”

He looks at her and he knows it’s true. It’s weird, if he thinks about it too long, the way that Carla has become such an important part of their lives. He was used to fighting for things, to having to do things on his own, to having to explain himself to everyone, to defend himself.

But Carla, Buck’s ex-girlfriend’s dead mom’s caretaker, wasn’t anything like that. She just stepped in and graciously offered her care. He knows that’s her job, but he also knows that she loves him and Christopher like they’re family. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t. And that’s something Eddie never had in his life before.

“It’s no wonder you and Buck are such good friends,” She says, changing the subject. “You two are a lot alike.”

At the mention of Buck, Eddie can’t stop the emotions from shifting over his face. They move so quickly he’s not even sure what they all are — but they’re suspicious and he knows it. He’d been expecting to see Buck when he woke up, he had been wanting to see Buck when he woke up. All he’s been able to think about, in his conscious moments and unconscious, is Buck. He just has to see that he’s okay, and then he’ll relax.

“I thought he would be here,” Eddie chances saying, eventually. Carla nods, a small smile on her lips.

“That boy has been here more often than not. You’ve been in the hospital for a couple of days, honey. We’re taking turns. He took Christopher for some real food and a change of clothes a couple of hours ago. But I texted him as soon as I saw you were waking up and they’re on their way now.”

And that — right there — that makes everything okay. All of the fear, trepidation, tension in Eddie’s body basically vanishes. Buck’s okay. More than okay — he’s with Christopher. And more than just being with Christopher, he’s looking after him. Making sure he’s well fed, clean, and comfortable. It’s more than Eddie could ever ask for, and the fact that Buck just does it, no questions no complaints — he does it happily — that has Eddie choked up.

Then he realizes.

“Did he — who told you? About what happened?” Carla frowns.

“He came by the house an hour or so after getting you to the hospital. He said Bobby made him go home and clean up but he had to come tell us the news. I offered to tell Chris — but he wanted to do it. It was...not easy. For either of them.”

Eddie can imagine. He remembers having to get down on one knee in front of Christopher and tell him that he would never see his mom again. A couple of hours after getting Eddie to the hospital means there was no way they knew whether or not he was gonna make it at that point.

Buck had to prepare Chris for his dad’s death.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever repay Buck for this — for everything, for saving his life, for taking such good care of Christopher, for looking after him like he was his own son. For having to hold it together for all of them.

But he knows what Buck would say if he mentioned any of this to him.

It wasn’t some favor I was doing you, Eddie. I have your back, always. You never have to repay me.

Eddie leans back. Buck’ll be here soon, with Christopher. That’s all he needs. Everything’s okay.

He realizes it all, several minutes too late. He glances at Carla, who’s looking back at him expectantly.

“Ana,” He says. Carla nods. Eddie’s mouth works as he tries to figure out exactly what to say next. Nothing comes to him.

“She’s downstairs grabbing us some coffee,” Carla says, folding her hands over her lap. She fixes Eddie with a look and he sighs, turning away from her.

“Can the fact that I just had a bullet in my shoulder get me out of whatever conversation I know you want to have with me right now?” She smiles and it’s not unkind. It reminds him of the way his sisters used to smile at him — right before they would expose some deeply buried truth about him that sent him into a week-long existential crisis.

“Honey, we don’t have to have any conversation that you don’t want to have. Not right now. But you should be having a conversation with Miss Flores soon, because you and I both know where your heart is, and it’s not with her.”

Eddie frowns. Ana’s nice. He likes having her around. She makes Christopher laugh — fills the house with his laughter which, really, to Eddie, seems like everything in the world.

In some ways — she reminds him of Shannon. It’s the way she carries herself, the sundresses she wears, the quiet shyness, the way she smiles at Christopher, runs her fingers through his curls.

But they don’t fight like he and Shannon did. They don’t fight at all, really. Eddie thought their polite tip-toeing-around-each-other stage would’ve ended months ago — but it hasn’t. And it’s not that he wants to fight, he hated fighting with Shannon. But he’s started to realize that fighting was the most exciting part of their relationship — the throwing down and the making up, the passion that followed.

It was undeniably toxic and unhealthy for the both of them, and as much as Eddie hated Shannon for leaving him again — she was right. They didn’t really work together.

And Ana...he’s beginning to see that they’re not working together either. Maybe it took him longer to figure out because they weren’t fighting, because all he’s ever known in his relationships is fighting — fighting with his parents, fighting with his sisters, fighting with Shannon. He thought this...this pleasantness was good. The easiness was good.

But ever since Carla planted that tiny little seed of doubt in his head at the dinner table, he’s felt the whole thing unravel.

He doesn’t want Ana here. He just wants to be with Christopher and Buck and Carla. He didn’t want to wake up to see Ana sitting next to him — was pleasantly surprised when it wasn’t her, but he wanted to see Buck. He didn’t care that Ana knew he was safe — he wanted to make sure Buck was safe.

But, most importantly, Ana wasn’t with Chris. Ana wasn’t the one who told him that Eddie was in the hospital, wasn’t the one who bravely broke the news to his son, wasn’t the one who held him and comforted him, wasn’t the one taking him to and from the hospital, wasn’t the one making sure that he still ate and took care of himself, even though he’s sick with grief.

Ana’s not with Christopher. Buck is. And that’s the most damning piece of evidence of all.

He doesn’t want anyone else in his life. He has Buck.

When Ana appears in the doorway a couple of minutes later, Eddie doesn’t even have enough energy to feel sick about it. She smiles at him, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and he smiles weakly back.

Carla picks her purse up.

“I’m going to give you two a moment alone. Buck and Christopher will be here soon, so I’ll see you again when it’s my turn.” She steps over to Eddie’s side and leans down to kiss his forehead. “I’m glad you’re with us still, Eddie.”

He doesn’t want her to go but he knows she has to. He doesn’t really want her to be here for what’s about to happen either. And if she’s down in the lobby she’ll be able to fend off Chris and Buck until Ana’s gone. The last thing he needs is them walking in on...whatever’s about to happen.

Ana slides into Carla’s spot, smoothing her hand over the top of her hair. She looks worn and tired — Eddie imagines they all do. He hates when people worry about him. It reminds him of when he was younger, when he would do something foolish with his friends and end up with a couple too many scrapes or a broken bone — and he would sit in bed while his parents fretted over him, bringing him soup and pain meds and whatever else he might need. It wasn’t the care that bothered him — it was the way it always came with an edge of disappointment, like he should’ve known better to get hurt, like it was an inconvenience for them.

He swallows.

“It’s good to see you awake,” Ana says, her tone falling just short of the bright and cheery Eddie knows she was aiming for. He forces a smile. “You had me really scared for a minute there.”

Eddie bites back the urge to say sorry. He didn’t ask to get shot.

“Yeah, thought I was done being shot at once I left the army,” He comments drily. Ana nods and her mouth twitches like she wants to smile, like she wants to laugh at the joke Eddie’s trying to crack, but it’s probably too on the dark side for her, because her face crumbles just a bit.

“Sorry,” He tacks on sheepishly. She shakes her head but doesn’t say anything.

The silence stretches over them and Eddie hates the fact that it’s making him itch, that it’s making him angry. He’s just been shot, just woke up to a tube in his mouth, and woke up again — waiting to see the two people he wants to see most in the world, so he thinks he should be allowed to get a little angry.

But Ana hasn’t done anything, not really. And she deserves better than Eddie lashing out at her right now.

“Ana,” Eddie starts, but his throat feels dry again. He glances at the cup of ice chips that Carla left and Ana’s up immediately, lifting a piece of ice to Eddie’s mouth just like Carla had moments before.

Her hands are shaking.

Eddie sighs and lets her slip a couple of chips in his mouth before he feels like he can talk again. She stands by his side.

“I really...I don’t want to have to do this right now,” He says, lifting a hand up to rub at his face. He wants to lift his right arm but quickly remembers its in a fucking sling, draped across his chest, and he’s quickly losing his patience.

“I know,” Ana says quickly. He looks up at her and sees her blinking back tears. “It’s us.”

“I’m sorry. This is...shit timing.”

“Nothing like a bullet in your shoulder to make you realize what you really want,” She jokes. He surprises both of them when he snorts a laugh.

He looks up at her and she’s smiling down at him, but she looks sad, not angry. He really does like her.

“Thank you for being here,” He says honestly. She reaches down and brushes her fingers against his forehead.

“Of course, Eddie. Things between us...I think we’ve both known where this was heading for a while. But...I’d always be here for you.”

“You’re really great, you know,” Eddie says. Ana tilts her head to the side and Eddie’s surprised when a tear slips down her face and onto his forehead. She moves to wipe it away with her thumb quickly, scrunching her face up, a move Eddie now knows she does when she’s embarrassed.

It’s weird, knowing that he’ll always have these tiny quirks cataloged as Things Ana Does When in his mind. He has a list of things that Shannon does too — he sees them in Christopher all the time. It took a while for him to get used to the dull ache he feels in his chest every time he sees it.

He has a list of things Buck does too, that Chris has also picked up on. He’s never quite understood how that made him feel, but he’s beginning to.

“I know,” Ana says, faking a smile. “I’m just not what you want.”

Eddie twists his mouth into a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t really know what I want,” Eddie says — and at that moment Ana’s phone pings with a notification. She quickly steps away from Eddie, turning her back to him while she digs in her bag for her phone. He hears her sniffle a couple of times but pretends he doesn’t — he knows she’s trying to hide it.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I do,” Ana says distractedly, straightening once she has her phone in her hand. She wipes away her face dry as she turns back to him. “Christopher and Buck are here — so...I guess this is the last time I’ll see you.”

Eddie’s stomach turns uncomfortably at that. He’s never liked goodbyes — even when they’re necessary. He knows it’d be unfair to ask Ana to stick around, and he doesn’t even want her to, but he feels like he needs to make it up to her somehow.

She steps up to him, brushing her fingers against his forehead again. She lets them trail down the side of his face, running along his jaw like she’s trying to map his facial features, committing them to memory. Her face starts to crumble again and before Eddie can say anything to try and soothe the pain, she presses her lips to his forehead, whispers a shaky goodbye, and disappears out the door.

He feels like shit about it for about a minute before he remembers that her absence means that Chris and Buck will be there soon.

His boys.

He feels a complicated series of emotions at that realization. First, it’s pure elation that he gets to see Christopher. He never likes to be away from him for long, it makes him feel like he’s missing a part of himself, and he knows Chris has had a hard couple of days while he’s been in the hospital. And then the reality of what he’s been through comes crashing down on top of him.

He was shot . He was shot and he almost died — he knows that. He knows he lost a good amount of blood, knows that the surgery was touch and go. He knows it was devastating for Christopher — 12 years old and grappling with the fact that he might lose his only remaining parent.

Guilt settles heavy in the pit of his stomach and he��s breaking down crying before he knows it. He almost left Christopher alone. He almost lost his boy.

And then he feels anger, anger at the fact that this is the hand he’s been dealt — this life of fighting, of feeling like he never does a goddamn thing right. He couldn’t when he was a kid, couldn’t when he started dating Shannon and got her pregnant, couldn’t when he committed to marrying her because he thought it was the right thing to do, couldn’t when he enlisted, couldn’t when he re-enlisted, couldn’t when he picked up job after job to support his son, couldn’t when he relocated them to California, couldn’t when Shannon came back, couldn’t when Shannon died. He couldn’t even live right.

He wasn’t supposed to be getting shot at anymore — he left Afghanistan long ago. How was he supposed to leave Christopher again, put on that uniform, and know that any day something could happen and he could be ripped out of his kid’s world?

He’s always known the job was dangerous, always accepted that any scene could go the wrong way and anything could happen. But he’s never come this close before.

But then he remembers that he didn’t die, he didn’t die and he didn’t lose his son, and his son is on his way to see him right now. So he pulls himself out of the fear, guilt, anger spiral quickly. He’ll deal with that again some other day, he knows it. He knows that he has months, maybe years of new nightmares ahead of him, knows that eventually, he’ll have to sit down in Frank’s office again and slowly, painstakingly, piece his life back together.

But for now — he’s about to see his son.

And he’s about to see Buck.

The wave of guilt threatens to wash over him again — because Eddie can never really escape it.

Buck who saw him get shot, Buck who got covered in his blood, Buck who watched him bleed out, Buck who risked his life to physically carry the weight of Eddie’s body to safety, Buck who got him to the hospital in time, Buck who sat in the waiting room, traumatized and shocked, Buck who went home to tell his kid, Buck who cared for his kid like he was his own.

Buck. Buck who...is his best friend...but is maybe more than that.

He loves Buck, he’s always known that. Ever since the tsunami, ever since Buck ran himself ragged walking all over the city looking for Chris — he’s known. But loving his friend and being in love with him — that’s a different thing.

Or at least, he thinks it is? He’s not sure. He just knows that in his last moments, when he was standing in shock and Buck was in front of him — something changed. Or, rather, something shifted, in his mind.

He doesn’t know exactly how he feels about Buck or exactly what he wants their relationship to look like and if he thinks about it too hard he knows he’s going to get a headache. But he knows that he loves Buck, and that for a moment he was terrified that he would never see him again, and that he never wants to leave him, and that he wants him woven into his life forever.

Thankfully, Eddie’s managed to pull himself together by the time Buck comes skidding into the doorway, Christopher over his shoulder. It’s such an entrance that Eddie’s stunned for a second, and his eyes lock with Buck’s before he breaks down laughing.

It feels good to feel such pure joy.

“We were gonna walk but Christopher was so excited to see you that he insisted I carry him and run here — and I wasn’t really gonna deny him the opportunity to see his dad as quickly as possible,” Buck explains, a little out of breath as he lowers Christopher down to the ground.

“Used his puppy dog eyes on you, didn’t he?” Eddie teases. “You’re too easy, Buck.”

“Yeah, well, I already accepted that I’m not immune to the Diaz puppy dog eyes a long time ago. I’d do anything for you two.” Buck says this naturally, as he slides Christopher’s glasses off of his shirt collar and hands them for Chris to put on. He shifts Christopher’s crutches from one hand to the other, eyes still focused on the kid.

“Do you want to use your crutches, buddy, or are you good to walk around?” Eddie’s a little stunned at how natural Buck is with Chris — and he’s not really sure why, because he always has been.

“I don’t need them,” Chris says, nodding. Buck nods back and settles his crutches down on the chair.

Eddie can’t hold back the tears. Christopher looks at him with such unfiltered joy — and the guilt lingers in the back of Eddie’s mind, the knowledge that he scared the crap out of his own kid. He holds out his good hand.

“Here, let’s go around the other side so we can be on your dad’s good side,” Buck suggests gently, ushering Chris over to the other side of the bed. Eddie can’t help but notice that Buck’s not looking at him, but he can’t focus on it for too long when Christopher’s collapsing against the side of the bed, falling into Eddie’s arm. Eddie pulls him close, presses his head against his chest, and buries his face in Christopher’s curls, pressing a solid kiss to the top of his head.

He closes his eyes and loses himself in the familiarity, in the comforting scent of Christopher’s shampoo, in the feeling of his son in his arms, where Eddie would keep him forever if he could.

“Oh mijo,” Eddie mumbles into Christopher’s hair, not wanting to pull away from him for a second. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Chris asks, pulling away. He reaches out to brush his hand against Eddie’s jaw and Buck’s hit with the startling memory of when Chris did that to him, on the pier, just before the tsunami. He wonders if that’s something he picked up from Shannon or Eddie.

Eddie smiles at Chris sadly.

“Because I scared you.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Christopher says, and Buck clears his throat behind him.

“Come on, buddy. We talked about being honest about all of our emotions, remember?”

Eddie quirks an eyebrow and looks up at Buck, but he’s still avoiding his eyes.

“Sorry. I was scared at first. I didn’t want to lose you too. But Buck said that he would never lie to me and he was pretty sure that you were gonna be okay because...you’re the strongest person he knows and that the doctors here are the best!”

Eddie doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he just pulls Christopher back in and presses another kiss to the top of his head. He looks at Buck again, and this time he waits, keeping his gaze steady until Buck’s eyes finally meet his.

And it knocks all of the air out of his lungs.

Because the last time he looked into those eyes — everything was hazy around the edges. He could feel himself slipping away and the only thing that kept him anchored, the only thing that kept him tethered to the earth, was the piercing blue of Buck’s eyes. The last thing he remembers is the fear in them, and the anger. He knew as soon as he recognized it that he was going to be okay — because he’s seen that determined look in Buck’s eyes a million times before.

He knows Buck’s remembering it too, he’s pretty sure that’s why Buck’s been avoiding his eyes the whole time, because he goes pale the moment they meet. He watches him swallow, watches the flashbacks echo in his mind.

Buck looks away quickly and clears his throat. He’s trying really hard not to throw up his breakfast right now, remembering Eddie lying lifeless on the street, bloody and pale. It’s not a sight he’s soon to forget, no matter how hard he tries.

He slides into the seat behind Christopher, too far for Eddie’s liking, so he stretches out his hand to him.

“Come on, Buck,” Eddie mumbles. Buck hesitates before scooting the chair closer. He stares at Eddie’s hand for a moment before he slips his hand into it. He rests their linked hands down on Christopher’s back.

They talk for a bit, Christopher catching Eddie up on the few things that have happened in the last couple of days. He’s been out of school, which makes sense. His parents are in town — he wonders when he’ll have to see them. He’s not excited about it; he knows that what’ll follow will be remarks about how it’s not safe, how Eddie could’ve died, how Chris could’ve lost him, how he’d be safer at home.

By the time Carla shows back up in the doorway, Christopher’s eyelids are drooping closed and he keeps dropping his head against his dad’s shoulder. It’s time for him to go home and rest but he protests — because of course, he wants to stay with Eddie.

“Go on, Christopher. I’ll be back home tonight and then we can stay up late and watch a movie and enjoy our fun time before your dad comes back and ruins it with his boring rules and grumpy face.”

Eddie’s heart warms at Buck calling his house home — and he wants to roll his eyes at the teasing, but he also recognizes the way Buck deflects with humor, and it makes his chest ache. It works for Chris, though, and he’s out the door with Carla after a solid hug and a kiss on his cheek goodbye, leaving Buck and Eddie alone.

Neither of them says anything for a minute. There’s a weight that settles over them without Christopher there. Something that rests heavily on their shoulders — the memory of the moment that neither of them want to talk about — when they were feet apart and watching the other lose their life.

The silence becomes unbearable for Eddie quicker than usual — he’s just not used to Buck being quiet. Buck is always full of this nervous energy, it keeps him moving at all times. He’s usually the one filling awkward silences with random facts, anything he’s read over the last couple of days, something that happened with Maddie, a random joke — anything. But right now he’s sitting in total silence, hands gripping his thighs, eyes fixed on the end of Eddie’s bed.

Eddie’s pretty sure he knows what he’s thinking about.

He reaches out his good hand again and it falls short of Buck’s knee. His fingers stretch out, flexing for a moment before curling back in, and he’s temporarily transfixed by that movement. It’s a little thing, but it reminds him so much of how immobilized he was once he got shot, once he went down, how he couldn’t even stretch out his hand to Buck like he wanted to.

He glances up at Buck, wiggles his fingers again to get his attention. He clears his throat and Buck blinks, once, twice, and then looks back at Eddie, eyes wide. He looks down at Eddie’s hand and then back at his face with the blankest, furthest off stare Eddie’s pretty sure he’s ever seen on Buck, before he shakes his head, flushes, and slips his hand into his.

“I wanted to do this so bad when I got shot,” Eddie admits, lacing their fingers together. He’s surprised at the lack of filter he’s had today. Maybe it has something to do with the drugs, or the recent brush with death, but he can’t find it in him to mull over every single thought that comes to him right now, no energy to vet the words before he says them to make sure they don’t leave him in a vulnerable spot. It’s too late for that.

Buck looks surprised but squeezes Eddie’s hand in response.

“I’m here,” Is all he says. Eddie nods.

“Thank you,” Eddie says and he watches as Buck freezes, as the words click into place in his brain, and his face twists.

“Eddie — I don’t know what you’re thanking me for. You shouldn’t.” Eddie shakes his head, cutting Buck off.

“Look, Buck, I know you. I know you’re probably all up in your head blaming yourself for me getting shot, for not doing enough. But you saved me.”

Buck looks like he wants to argue again so Eddie pushes on.

“Listen, I never thought I’d get shot at again,” He laughs bitterly. “Thought all that would end when I left Afghanistan. But...when our helicopter went down over there...we were under heavy fire. We were already transporting injured soldiers, then I got shot — it...I thought I was gonna die out there.”

Eddie pauses. He’s never really talked about any of this before with Buck. He’s mentioned having nightmares every once in a while, offhandedly mentioned getting shot at a couple of times — but he’s always tried to keep it casual. He’s always tried to cut out the dark reality — for himself and for Buck.

But what happened to him, getting shot in the middle of the street, for Buck to see, it’s dragging all of that up. And he can’t cut it out right now, because the dark reality is this .

When he goes to therapy again he’ll start to unpack his time in the army again. He’ll start to piece together his conscious moments from when he got shot to when he was in the ambulance. He’ll start to remember the fear, the anger, the deep sadness he felt that this was happening to him again.

He’ll remember hearing the sound of helicopter blades in the fire truck. He’ll remember the constant sound of gunfire, the way he screamed as Buck lifted his body. He’ll remember calling out to him, calling out for Christopher.

But he’s not unpacking that all right now. He just wants to make sure Buck knows that he knows that this time was different.

“I thought...I was never gonna come home again, never gonna see Shannon again, never gonna see Christopher. I felt helpless...and — alone.”

He turns back to Buck again, locks their eyes, and squeezes his hand.

“This time I had you. And I knew that you would do whatever it takes.” He can’t keep his voice from shaking anymore, and stops trying to keep it even, stops trying to hold back the tears. He needs Buck to know how much this means to him — how much he means to him.

Buck’s eyes are red and watery and Eddie knows he’s trying his best to not break down. In the back of his mind, he knows Buck’s had his fair share of breakdowns over the last couple of days. The guilt echoes in the back of his mind.

“I said I’d have your back,” Buck says, voice small as he squeezes Eddie’s hand. “I — I’ll always be here for you. But I’d really like it if you never got shot again.”

He laughs as he says it, but he also cries a little too, tears falling freely down his face. He forces a watery smile and grabs Eddie’s hand with his other, sandwiching his good hand between his. And then he’s fully crying, leaning forward and pulling their hands up to his forehead as the sobs rack his body.

All Eddie wants to do is pull him in, wrap his arm around him and hold him close, remember that there’s not this distance between them anymore, remember that they’re both alive and there’s no blood on either of them and they’re safe, they’re safe.

But that illusion of safety has been shattered, and for that Eddie cries too.

Eventually, they’ll pick themselves up, dry their tears (or rather, Buck will reach out to dry Eddie’s with his free hand, because his other refuses to let Eddie’s go) and they’ll talk about their experience.

Buck will tell Eddie how he felt paralyzed, stuck standing there when he watched Eddie get shot, how he could still taste and smell his blood for hours after.

And Eddie will tell Buck how he didn’t register that he’d been shot at first, that he looked up and saw the blood on Buck and how at first it scared him, until he realized it was his own, and that comforted him.

They’ll talk about that moment their eyes met under the truck, how they were both so desperate to hold onto one another’s gaze because it meant they were alive.

Buck will talk about how he had to drag Eddie’s body, how it felt listening to Eddie in pain, how Buck and the medics had to do their best on the floor of the fire truck to stop the bleeding and keep him alive until they got to the hospital.

Buck will tell him how he couldn’t get all of the blood off him until Bobby sent him home and he scrubbed every last bit of it off in the shower — before putting on fresh clothes and going to tell Carla, Ana, and Christopher. He’ll tell him how Chris broke down, how he was so scared, and how Buck held him while they both cried. And Eddie will cry at that too.

Eddie will tell him how he woke up wanting to see him, because he couldn’t remember anything after his eyes closed on the pavement, how he wanted to make sure Buck was okay.

He’ll tell him that he had to end things with Ana, because it wasn’t fair to her and he couldn’t drag her through all of this if they didn’t love each other. He’ll tell him how the last time he got shot, it was too much for Shannon, and she left them, weighed down by her own struggles and grief.

Buck will squeeze his hand gently.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Eddie,” Buck will say, sincerely.

“I was alone when I came back from Afghanistan,” Eddie will respond. Buck’s face will twist and he’ll lock eyes with Eddie.

“You have me now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

And it’ll be hard and it won’t be pretty. They’ll spend weeks staring at each other, reminding themselves that they’re okay. They’ll spend months having to adjust to loud noises that make them both jump. Eddie will struggle to regain full motion in his hand and his shoulder.

They’ll have nightmares and therapy sessions and breakdowns that make everything seem impossible.

But they’ll have each other — and they’ll be okay.

[prose-for-hire]

Sticky Situation

Pairing: Spike x Wyndam-Pryce!Reader

Request: Kinda vague request but, I'd love to see a Spike x Wyndham-Pryce!Reader set in S5 of Angel. Maybe reader's a former watcher sibling duo with Wesley, maybe Wesley's a parental figure? Idk, Go nuts!

Requested by: 🦋🗡️ anon

A/N: I went for former watcher siblings !! I hope this is okay !!💖🖤

Angel announced to his team that he had drafted in some outside help. You were on contract to Wolfram and Hart to assist them track this demon that could teleport. You just so happened to have the exact device and knowledge on how to use it that they needed.

Angel contacted you, he had heard that you were on the side of good from word of mouth and so was happy to ask you to join his team for a moment. It was just lucky you had moved to LA already.

You used a different last name on documents less your father finally track you down through his council connections so when he had hired you, he hadn’t realised who you were. Just that you were known for being incredibly talented at tracking demons. A sort of rogue demon Hunter, if you will.

You walked into the large office space and two people immediately recognised you.

“Y/n?” They both asked at the same time before frowning and looking at each other in confusion.

Suspicion began to grow in the air. From all sides. Nobody could put together how somebody that looked the way you did could have a life that crossed paths with both Spike and Wesley.

“Huh, small world” you muttered. As if this wasn’t the most ridiculous coincidence of all time. Stood before you, along with the rest of Angel’s core team who you were yet to be introduced to, were both your brother and the vampire you had been seeing recently.

“Anyone wanna fill us in?” Angel looked between the three of you. He was expecting some drama, there always was with his team involved.

Wes and Spike started to speak at the same time, talking over each other, both stopped and squinted at each other. They both about to open their mouths to speak again when you cut in.

“Wes is my brother and Spike, well, Spike’s my-“

“Special friend, right love?”

Wesley and Angel shared an eye roll at his phrasing. But the room around you appeared to relax. You weren’t evil, that was the main thing. Wesley didn’t really know what to make of what was happening he just stared at you.

“We’ve been dating” you corrected him before your brother popped a blood vessel.

You and Spike had met at a strip club six months ago. You were there because a shapeshifting demon with a taste for male arousal (and subsequently flesh) was prowling the area. He would insist he was there for the same reason although you knew for a fact he was about to be the next hapless victim.

You had teased him about it and he had looked at you for a moment before offering to buy you a drink. It had only got better from there.

You had nodded your hello to Wesley, you hadn’t seen him in a while. Both of you had hit the ground running since you managed to escape your childhood home lives and barely looked back since. You did call each other for birthdays and to check in every couple of months (usually when you moved to a new place).

Spike was surprised you were related to Wesley, it hadn’t been obvious to him. Despite the family resemblance that was clear now you were in the same room. And how your speech pattern changed back to match his now that you were speaking with him.

“We both trained as Watchers together” Wesley added, informing the room about the connection you had. He had never mentioned a sibling and so everyone was suddenly very interested and looking between you both to catch the similarity.

“It could get competitive” You grinned fondly. You and Wes had to make it at least a little entertaining or you would have both died of boredom.

“Bloody hell, you used to be a watcher?” Spike asked, looking at you as if you were an alien.

“It was, uh, expected of us. Wyndam-Price family tradition.” Wesley said, his voice devoid of emotion.

“Don’t remind me” you added and Wes nodded once in understanding.

Angel soon moved talk along to why you had been there and a brief overview of who was working with who. He finished and people began to filter back to the departments they worked in until you needed them later.

You eventually moved to greet Wes properly after you were introduced to the other members of the team. You smiled at him. You had been closer when you were growing up, you had to be. You relied on each other and he often felt he had to protect you because he was older.

He had always had this protective streak he had just never revealed it to you so clearly. There had been people in your youth he had confronted, getting himself mercilessly tormented in your place.

He muttered something about wishing he had known you had moved here. That he worried about you when he didn’t hear from you which you

He became embarrassed at his admittance and instead changed the subject. Talk turned immediately, as it usually would, to the task at hand. Wesley described the details of the why and the what. And you provided the where best to look and the how.

After a few days on the job you were settling in seamlessly. Angel even began to consider asking you to join the team full time seeing as you already had a few connections here. You explained that your device would work its magic and you would walk around at night to try and get a better signal.

It had also given peace of mind to Angel over something he had been worrying about. Recently, Spike went missing for days on end (especially on a weekend) and Angel had been concerned that he was up to something. Turning back to evil ways. But he had just been spending a lot of time with you. You weren’t used to spending this much time with someone, you rarely stayed in one place longer than a few months. So this was something special.

It was a dream having you working in the same office. He made sure that everyone knew you were together. His hand often curled around your waist. He pressed absent-minded kisses against your temple when the others were talking. And he definitely convinced you to sneak away into the store cupboard more than once.

You being a temporary part of the team was actually doing wonders for your relationship. You were connecting on a much deeper level. One he had thought he would never feel with another person again.

He liked to be with you, by your side. He was quite clingy but he played it off very cool. You enjoyed it though, he adored you and you matched his feelings so easily. It didn’t get in the way either, you were both still ready for a fight anything that came your at any time. You complimented each other so well.

You were stood in Wesley’s office, debating your brother on some light reading. Well, it was light to the two of you considering you had been watchers. It was just a waiting game now, your device was trying to latch onto the demon you were looking for and you couldn’t do anything until then.

Spike stalked in while you were talking. He didn’t knock and slid a hand against your waist, pulling you against him so your hips connected. You were still talking as he did this, the movement becoming so natural between you both. Spike truly was someone that made you comfortable. And Wes noted this. But raised his eyebrows at you in that way he always had when he tried to pull rank on you for being the older brother.

You smiled as Spike had been oblivious to what this look meant. You leaned in and kissed his cheek, whispering that you needed to speak to your brother alone for a moment. He shrugged, leaning in to catch your lips before insisting he had wanted to go and annoy Gun anyway.

“Charlie boy!” you could hear Spike shouting through the glass trying to locate him. You sat on Wes’ desk for a moment before the conversation you had been expecting since you arrived started.

“Spike? Really?” Your brother questioned when he had walked away.

“We’re adults now, Wesley. I can make my own decisions on who I wish to date” Not to mention you had heard of his relationship with someone called Lilah. It was hot office gossip and she sounded like bad news.

“Your taste was always disastrous. But – Spike?”

“What? Come on, he’s a very pretty man” You offered with a teasing smile. You both looked through the glass to watch him talking animatedly to Gunn about something.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t care to comment” He looked back down at the book you had been discussing. You smiled, walking around to where he was sat.

“Oh, brother. Do you need your glasses cleaning?” You teased further, reaching for his glasses, “Look, here-”

“Remove your hand or else” he swatted at you.

“Or else? Are we back in prep school?” You laughed and he joined you. It was nice to see you again he couldn’t help feel guilty he hadn’t made more of an effort to reach you. He always waited for you to call him.

Your laughter died down after a while and you finished your discussion. You eventually felt Spike’s eyes on the back of your head, he was becoming a lot softer and liked to be by your side a lot more visibly. So, you got up telling Wes you would swing by again later.

“Y/n?” he asked just as you got to the door.

“Yeah?”

“I meant what I said, I worry - please, be careful” He frowned at his admittance. You matched him. You weren’t usually the types to say things like that outright. You were a lot more affectionate towards each other than your parents had been. But him saying this was new.

Maybe he had really meant it when he told you it would be nice if you stayed in LA a few days ago. You usually travelled. Didn’t stay in one place much (less your parents get a hold of you somehow). You did miss Wes and now you had even more reason to stay.

You rushed back over to him and hugged him, almost bowling him over. He shook his head but he was smiling slightly reciprocating the hug.

He then watched you slink over to Spike and he rolled his eyes getting back to his paperwork. It really wasn’t entertainment to him to watch you flirting with a formerly evil vampire. It was neither new or original. He had watched people do this with Angel for the last four years.

The though of having Spike as a brother in-law was almost shudder-inducing but he didn’t mind so much. Because at least it meant he wouldn’t lose touch with his sibling again.

Later that afternoon, you and Spike were stood laughing over an anecdote he had told about Angel when something in your back pocket began to light up. The device. The demon.

Your eyes widened. You had located it. This was the good bit. You wouldn’t even have to go to the demon, the demon would be coming right to you.

The device could act as a homing beacon for whenever the demon was in range. You pressed the button, nodding wordlessly to Spike who began to rally everyone of the main team out of their respective offices. You could communicate wordlessly with him. You were a team, the two of you.

He watched you take control of the room. He had always known you were incredible at your job but he was in awe watching you being so commanding. Making sure everyone was blocking off the exits. You were directing the room and ensuring everything was just so.

The demon arrived and tried to teleport but the room was now preventing it from doing so. You braced yourself as it tried to fight, ducking as it threw staplers and office equipment your way to try to distract you.

You dialled the button on your device all the way up and everyone else covered their ears. They knew the plan. The frequency was set so that the demon would hear a very high pitched noise. You had advised Lorne to stay out of rage just in case but it wasn’t fatal to humans. It just made your ears ring for a few days after.

The demon combusted. But not without leaving its last ploy against the team. It exploded, leaving gallons of thick sticky goo propelled around the room (much more than appeared could conceivably fit inside its body).

The entire room was covered. Everyone was drenched in the green liquid. Nobody had escaped.

Your eyes widened, you had forgotten about that part. You wiped your face as the rest of the room did. Angel sighed, shaking his head at the mess but the rest of the room congratulated you between their collective ‘ews’. You noticed your brother’s nod of approval. The demon would have killed large swathes of the population had you not done it.

Spike, however, had the most enthusiastic congratulations of all. He launched himself at you, his lips on yours despite the sticky situation everyone had found themselves in. He just loved you so much and seeing you that way, he wasn’t even sure what came over him. He just wanted to show you how he felt. He lips moved against yours, with such immeasurable feeling. His hand cupping your face as you slid your hands up his back adoringly. You pressed yourselves closer together.

Everyone was still complaining but you and Spike didn’t care. You kissed through the sticky goo that plastered everywhere. You even kissed through the rest of the office making their passive aggressive comments at the water cooler.

You really could see yourself sticking around this time. For good.

[appleflavoredkitkats]

Do you have any more info on the fiance situation in Las Nevadas au? :-D or just anything in that au in general (only if you want tho sbajjdkfL) since its vv cool <3 /p

▪︎Beep

i've talked about the fiances before but i'm down to expound on it a little further :DDD this is kinda half assed but still long so MSJDJD

tw: self-destructive behavior, memory loss, breakups (not too horrible i promise)

/dsmp /rp

quackity is definitely immensely hurt by his loved ones leaving him. it ruins him. he feels like his heart is left to bleed out every single day he sees that no one from the south is coming over. he has a telescope atop his hotel, the tallest building, which he uses to look closely at the south (where kinoko kingdom lies). on his free days, or sometimes in the afternoon when he doesn't attend the events, he sits on the roof and looks out at a distance.

i think the longest he's been out on the roof was when karl messaged their chat through the communicator. it was a simple “where am i”, and quackity was quick to respond. he instructs karl to go to las nevadas, assuming he was lost, so he basically cancelled every gig he had to observe his surroundings.

(turns out, he never came. quackity sat on that roof for 15 hours before he was pulled away by fundy.)

but their abandonment was never intentional. quackity knows there has to be something more to it, but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

he at least also got word from sapnap. after much encouragement from schlatt, quackity finally was brave enough to send him a message. first, he sent a simple “sapnap? where have you been”, then a more desperate “what happened to us?”.

sapnap replies almost immediately that it threw quackity off, “been around, adventuring, getting away from things.” then the second one took a bit longer, “not gonna lie, i thought our engagement was off ever since we kinda. stopped talking to one another. you kind of left us, didn't you?”

and quackity is hurt. he's baffled, he's irritated, but he's fucking livid. schlatt has told him multiple times that he needs to control his anger a little bit better, but in times like this, no matter how petty it may be, he wanted to fucking wreck his room. and so he did— first he threw his communicator against the wall. it was still salvageable, so quackity decided to grab his glowstone lamp and toss it against the communicator. he flips his dresser, throwing it against his bed, and it bounces off and destroys his cabinet. when he looks at his right, he sees a window, and he raises his fist to punch—

and someone is grabbing back. “q, quackity, alex, please,” schlatt pleads. when did schlatt get to his room? “come on, self-destruction is my kind of thing,” schlatt adds, and it summons a smile from quackity's lips before a sob tears out. and it doesn't stop. quackity cries— and he doesn't cry often, especially in front of his coworkers or family or whatever they are. he hates it, he hates emotions— he tried to fucking suppress it all in las nevadas because all of this, all of these casinos and hotels and bars are meant to be his coping mechanism, his distraction. the tears always finds a way to seep through, though.

eventually, they do crumble to the ground, and they sit like that for a while. quackity crying against schlatt's blazer as schlatt merely rubs comforting circles on his back. eventually, fundy does come in with some snacks and a deck of cards, and it was enough for quackity to at least feel better for the rest of the day.

on another day, where quackity was supposed to have fun partying around and doing the same old shit he does every other day, a mysterious green, whorled portal appears in the middle of his casino. most of the staff and the customers stand back, but from the portal, a white-clad brunette falls from it. he doesn't look all to phased by his fall, but when he stands, he realizes the predicament he's in and immediately stiffens awkwardly.

quackity knows him. that's karl— the karl who somehow disappeared from the server for so long that quackity forgot he even fucking existed. what happened to him? why is he all white? why have his eyes become spirals? what's going on?

“hi,” karl greets casually, but his eyebrows are furrowed awkwardly, “uhm, where am i?”

“karl?” quackity says immediately. he stands in uncertainty before fundy nudges at him to go closer whispering “talk to karl, i'll be in charge of the event.” fundy claps twice and immediately announces that their slot machines will double in payout for the next hour, and the crowd immediately goes wild. karl seems a bit lost by the noise, but quackity quickly grabs him away from the crowds and out to the streets.

“gee, those people were. eager to waste their money. gosh darn rich people,” karl says, and quackity laughs, but his smile immediately drops when karl adds,” nevermind them, i guess, but uh, who are you, exactly?"

and quackity's heart churns. he's heard of a few memory loss cases in their server—it's quite scary to hear how common it's become to just lose yourself entirely—but he didn't think it'd apply to karl. he doesn't even know where karl has BEEN all this time. what happened? why does karl not remember? does sapnap know about this?

quackity decides to not reveal much immediately, so he puts on his typical charming façade and replies, “i'm quackity, or alex, any will do. i'm the owner of this place— las nevadas. it's a place for gambling, drinking, and well, fun! do you, uh, do you remember me?"

quackity sees karl visibly shift awkwardly, and it does summon a sigh out of quackity. “guess you don't, huh?” he says sardonically.

“time travelling kinda... ruins you, sometimes,” karl replies

time travelling...? is... is that what made karl leave? not make karl remember? when in the ever living hell did karl, the nicest, sweetest man he knows, ever been allowed to time travel?

“oh,” he just says instead, “well, uh, i was a close friend of yours."

"oh?" karl replies, “kinda like uhm, uh, do you know sapnap? or george."

damn. quackity's façade immediately melts— how does he know about them and not HIM? why did karl remember them and not quackity? why was he forgotten? quackity immediately hisses, turns away and responds, “i'm giving you a free hotel room for the night and i'm calling sap to pick you up. just walk seventy blocks to your right and talk to manifold, or something, christ you fucking irritate me.” he knows karl probably won't understand, and he knows he's breaking this already broken relationship even more, but he can't... he can't look at them the same way anymore.

karl does get to a hotel room, and quackity does visit him just to make sure everything is alright. thankfully, fundy did repair his communicator after his last tantrum, and he uses it to tell sapnap to pick karl up from las nevadas. sapnap doesn't ask where it is— he simply tells him “ok” and goes offline.

when sapnap arrives, he doesn't look as miffed as quackity expected him to be. he looks... well, definitely more composed than him and karl, but he still looked a bit tired. he has some new scars, but quackity guesses sapnap probably wasn't lying when he said he was out adventuring. before quackity could greet sap, sapnap enters the room abruptly and karl practically throws himself at sapnap.

and jealousy is a fickle thing, isn't it? quackity's heart is still torn, it's still bleeding, and it continues to do so the longer he stares at the sight of the other two. he withholds a scowl, mostly because he knows he might go on another temper tantrum if he doesn't, and he also knows he can't... he can't get mad at them. he's waited forever for this moment.

“wow,” quackity murmurs, and sap turns to him, “things really have changed."

sapnap sighs, “we built you a house in kinoko, but you never came."

"and i made las nevadas entirely for you as well." quackity responds, “i guess it's just... unfortunate timing, and all." it's silent for a few moments until, “i'm sorry”.

sapnap's look softens, “i'm— i'm sorry too.”

there's so much more words to say, things to clarify, stories to catch up on, but quackity wonders how worth it it is to cling onto his past. karl and sap's visit is quite... underwhelming, to say the least. but maybe it isn't underwhelming at all— maybe he just found a new purpose outside of them, and he's just... moved on. it hurt, obviously, but when he looks out of karl's hotel room window, he sees las nevadas. he sees the casinos he's designed for schlatt and fundy, and the bars he's designed for jack and sam, and the stages he's designed for charlie— it's just... different now. he loves karl and sapnap still, of course, but he's also been hurt by them, and he's grown into a different person from that hurt. he thinks sapnap has grown the same way as well.

but still, “you know you're invited to las nevadas if you ever want to visit again,” quackity offers with a melancholic smile.

sapnap sighs, but he mimics quackity's smile and nods, “i'll consider it.” sapnap pauses for a bit, then, “thank you for everything, quackity— i really do mean it. i hope... i hope you enjoy the life you've made for yourself here, kinda looks cool,” sapnap says, and his words were very soft and genuine— something quackity needed to end this chapter of his life with them.

“thank you too, i hope you guys do well too. take care,” quackity says, and sapnap and karl take their leave with simple goodbyes.

it isn't exactly forgiveness or getting back together but it's... closure. quackity's journey up to this point isn't exactly all smiles and rainbows, but he's happy where he is now. he just hopes sapnap, karl, and george are feeling the same as well.