#sorry these will mostly be nothing but surface level wow :)

[peacereturnedtothevalley]

Taking notes as I listen, idk how consistent I’ll be but I’ll be alluding to future knowledge in these if I do post

AiH 00 starts with Keith initiating the very first fatt clap wow…

It’s been forever since I heard them play dungeon world… Rip to adam koebel as an entity go 2 hell

“Just for this one time I’m going to say what the principles of the game is”

Keith editing era is so distinctive and its so funny experiencing it again in mc+

Austin (cont.): And we're post the terrible period that followed that and at the point of uh… At the point where it could go one of two ways. It can either be a further decline into nothingness or it can be a moment of rebuilding. It could be a moment where we bounce out of this and move on. It could be fall or it could be spring. Um, I like fall colors a lot so I talked a lot about autumnal colors in my original pitch to you and like, that's kinda how I feel— That's the way the world's gonna go if you don't get involved, if that makes sense. If you guys can save the day, we can make it spring, but if you can't, then it's fall and we're heading into winter.

Hearing the world building eps again and knowing so much of the off the cuff suggestions by the cast end up core question or concept deeper into the show is so fun… more people should listen to the hidden c/w world building ep bc it so fucked up to hear how long ago some concepts and planets were made up. Also its very fun

Them starting in a fishing village wow just like hxh

I had to look it up and somehow I completely forgot velas is the starting fishing village. I remember the name velas but did not attach it anywhere. Also forgot hieron is the size of New York. Imagine if hieron was a dark continent situation this whole time

Leylines…. I think I encountered the term for the first time here and now its permanently associated w ffxiv

Halflings politics is so much clearer to me this time… they want things back the way they were…. big retvrn vibes like Okay I get you want to go back to playing your jaunty tunes and chilling but. Love that Fero is like fuck that love you Fero

I didn’t take a lot of character notes but I love them… love the orcs wild to have the new archives established already, I forgot the sort of rivalry it has with the last university (rip).

V nostalgic having Nick here, with a full wizard voice for The Great Fantasmo

Hearing all the alignments talk and going oof ugh hearing hella’s stuff, I love the result of everything coming up due to the evil alignment rules but it Is a bit uncomfortable knowing Austin wasn’t as clear communicating stakes and establishing people were in the same page with him. they all evolve so much as players over the years…

“I really like the idea of a foppish and disinterested god trying to pass time” hehe

It’s so funny hearing Jack discovers cats can be nice and cute on air

Dre isn’t going to be here for a minute and we won’t see sylvi and janine for a minute… miss u………

Audio quality was completely fine also

sky status: seems normal so far

[jasmineoolongtea]

Hiiii how ya doing? I'd like to req a Megumi X Reader plsss. Smth where the reader is super shy and antisocial (could be due to trauma or their own experience whatever works for you) so they're mostly by themselves because they choose to and avoid people unless it's training and even so they're just alone (or with a mentor IDK). Still, everyone tries to get close to them and Megumi seems like he doesn't care but he does little gestures to make sure reader is comfortable and reader appreciates that a lot. IDRK how to describe this anymore but this is the big picture for me. The rest is up to you. I'M SRY IF THIS LOOKS CONFUSING BUT THXXXXX

a/n: hii anon, i'm doing alright !!! (just kinda busy this week ;-; so sorry for the delay in responding to this) hope you're doing well too !! don't worry i totally get what you mean so i hope that this lives up to your vision 🫡🫡🫡

if most people had to describe you, the word 'loner' or a more polite 'shy' would probably be thrown around a lot with other vague descriptors that only scratched the surface of who you were as a person, but to you, that was the least of your worries.

it was better this way. honestly, was it so wrong to want to keep people at arm's length? contrary to popular belief, there's merit to be found in being alone and you just wish that others had the same understanding that you did.

a 'how are you doing' here and 'wow, the weather's pretty cloudy today' there and you can already feel your energy being sucked away like there was some sort of energy vampire following you around. getting invited to places as a part of a large group was even worse as you were forced to spit out a pathetic excuse that you were sure would leave them wincing from just how bad and thinly veiled it was.

in a better-case scenario, they would pass on an apologetic smile your way before clumsily making their escape away from you and that would be the last you'd hear of them for a while. in worse cases, and unfortunately the more common one from your own personal experiences, their previously friendly faces would quickly morph into a snarl with all of their old pleasantries going out the window as they scurry away from you, though not before throwing some... colourful words and jabs in your direction before they disappear out of your earshot.

you once heard a phrase that sums up conversations like this perfectly; 'water cooler conversations', conversations that are only born out of the belief that silence between people is bad and that superficial, surface-level talk is the better alternative which is a notion you strongly disagree with.

albeit, you know deep down it would be wrong to fault them as after all, they only had nothing but good intentions. however, good intentions can only carry you so far when the recipient isn't necessarily the most willing participant.

at times, some people would just try to strong-arm you into a friendship with them, whether it be figuratively or literally, and those were almost always the most intense and ironically, short-lived ones. there were some who would just flail the moment you stopped responding to them. sure it was awkward, but at least you had the benefit of silence. with others, it felt like looking into the sun and the longer you stared at them, the more likely you're going to end up with a sunburn and the more you missed the comfort of the darkness that you've become so accustomed to.

but with megumi, it was different, in a good way.

with megumi, things felt... easy, for lack of a better word. you didn't feel like you had to force on a polite grin or shallow laugh for appearance's sake. every word, expression and reaction with megumi was raw, genuine and natural and suffice to say, you craved this more than you were willing to admit.

exchanges with megumi were largely wordless most of the time with more being said in between the silence that the two of you frequently shared with one another. it was like you two had your own secret language which was spoken through brief touches and lingering glances and that if you blinked, you would have missed it.

after a particularly rough training session (no thanks to the boiling heat of the midday sun), you find yourself more exhausted than usual to the point where you simply collapse on the nearby bench in a boneless pile.

when you look up, you're met with the sight of an outstretched hand holding a drink, your favourite drink no less, in your direction. the sun's shining right in your eyes so you have to squint slightly to get a better look at the good samaritan that has managed to stumble on you in this state and are surprised to find out that it's someone you're more than well acquainted with.

turns out, it's megumi who's offering you salvation in the form of a bottled drink and you eagerly accept his offer (albeit a bit more eager, which almost veers on the side of desperation, than you were hoping to come off as). for a brief moment, your fingers brush against his as you reach forward to grab it and maybe it's a trick of the light, but you swear you catch a glimpse of the tips of his ears turning bashfully red.

you take a sip of your drink and a grateful sigh escapes your lips. he's not looking in your direction, seemingly more interested in something far off in the distance, however, his shoulders visibly relax and his whole posture loses its once-tensed-up stance once the sigh leaves your lips. his hand hangs awkwardly by his side and for some reason, you're met with the sudden urge to grab it and you wonder what it would be like to hold it - would it be calloused and rough from years of training or would it be surprisingly soft and relatively scar-free despite your lifestyles - but you quickly shake those thoughts away in an attempt to fight the butterflies that flap around in your stomach.

instead, you settle for a tap on his arm which gets him to turn towards you, a curious expression painted on his face as you pat the spot beside you. a silent invitation for him to join you there. he pauses for a moment, as if weighing the decision in his mind before relenting and taking you up on your offer. you don't say it but this is your silent thank you to him and you know he understands you because that's just who he is.

once seated, you're suddenly met with the burning heat of the sun again and you realise that megumi was purposefully standing in the way of the sun for you and was using himself as your own personal source of shade. another little gesture from him to you.

there he goes again, you think to yourself. you're not sure how he does it but it's like he has an uncanny ability to anticipate your needs, sometimes even before you realise it yourself. furthermore, megumi never asks anything from you, not even a verbal thank you, seemingly just content with being able to be near you.

it's a bit confusing if you're going to be honest. to someone who's so used to being perceived as either a social pariah or as someone who can be used for the benefit of others, you're not sure why he keeps on doing all these things for you and why you find yourself being so drawn to him despite everything but you choose not to push it.

deep down, you know that you're scared that if you question it, then it'll just be nothing more than a nice dream that the universe has allowed you to indulge in for a bit but that's a topic for another day.

seeing that the sun is deciding to be very stubborn today and is not easing up on the strength of its rays, you search around the largely abandoned training field by now for a more shaded place and spot a small clearing underneath a tree on the opposite side. you stand up, startling megumi slightly as he jolts upright, and open your hand towards him. he looks at your hand and at you, his gaze drifting up and down before gingerly reaching out and taking your hand in his.

you're right, his hand is softer than you were somewhat expecting though it's a pleasant surprise nonetheless, and make your way towards the shaded area as he trails behind you with your hands connecting you two together like paper dolls. now under the cool canopy of the leaves above you, the heat is much more bearable and you take a seat with your back against the tree trunk.

you let go of his hand as you do this and he quickly follows suit, though this time, instead of allowing there to be a small space between you, he sits right next to you to the point where if you allow yourself to lean right ever so slightly, your shoulders are going to brush against his. even more shockingly, you feel a warm presence on top of your hand and when you look down, you see that it's megumi's hand resting on top of yours. you both don't look at each other, perhaps in an attempt to hide the pale dusting of pink that surely adorns your cheeks.

maybe one day, you'll get the courage to break the silence you've grown so comfortable with but for now, this is all you could ask for and more.

[yellowocaballero]

You played the golden deer route!! (I think?) What's been your thoughts so far just like in general but also in comparison to blue lions? Claude and the golden deer are just so fun!!

I have not finished yet! Yes I am like 5/6ths done with the Golden Deer fic. I did something that I really shouldn't do, which is like consume 1/4th of the media and go "okay I could make a fanfic out of this" and then write a long-ass fic just based off initial impressions (this is how Theater of the Absurd happened - if you're wondering why everybody was so drastically out of character, that's why). I'm still only mostly done with the Academy phase, so no spoilers!

Thoughts so far? Claude is so funny. I am genuinely so, so fascinated by him. He's one of those characters who clearly has an entire existence and situation and insanity and you're just barely privy to the surface of it. Our C support is me walking into his room (why did I do that?) as he concocts poisons. He's a mad scientist. He wants to dissect his friends like they're insects. He's incredibly self-absorbed. He's convinced he's the smartest person in the room. He's on his gap year and he's taking a vacation with the white people and the country he leads is not his biggest priority. He wakes up in the morning, looks at himself in the mirror, and says "I'm a SCHEMER I'm a TRICKSTER I'm IMPENETRABLE I'm NOT LONELY". He has a biracial narrative and it's left him with a superiority complex because the alternative is to always be inferior. He'd be a better leader if he cared more.

I love Hilda also. She's so cunning but so kind, and her competence is underlined by her severe self-esteem issues. I haven't really connected with most of the Golden Deer - their ensemble narrative is not NEARLY as strong as the Blue Lions or Ashen Wolves. They aren't all part of the same story, I feel like. I'm still working on their supports (which are mostly C and some B right now...I kinda substituted most of them on the battlefield for the AW...sorry I have faves). Most of them are either a little annoying or uninteresting...Lysithea baby girl...Lorenz is actually deeply Felix coded in that he's kinda the sanest. He cares about all of the actually important things that nobody else cares about when they really should, and a lot of unimportant things,

I didn't expect this to happen, but Claude as your BFF actually deeply underscores how 1) Dimitri is insanely in love with you, and 2) Dimitri's bugfuck. Claude's so normal about everything. Makes me go "Wow Dimitri was normal about fucking nothing".

I'm looking forward to the War Phase and seeing how things change. These kids are fucking disasters in their lives and to each other, which mirrors their disaster country. Right now Claude's the most fascinating aspect to me. I'm not plugged into the fandom, but from what I can see his complexity and depth is kind of slept on - he has a comic relief role in dynamics, but I can already tell it's pretty constructed. Writing him as a jokester is like writing Dimitri as a preppy, perfect, adorably awkward nerd. Yes, that is a major part of how they present themselves to the public. I can't entirely call it a lie. But if you think that those performances are genuine, then you're buying what they're selling. Claude, Dimitri, and Edelgard are liars, and if you stay surface level in your depiction you're scrubbing out what makes them good characters. Also, especially in Dima's case, The Point

[pinyeti]

I feel you :(( I was the best man at my first crush/love's wedding. Wasn't completely over it then, either. I mostly was, I mean I helped him and his wife get together and I fully love and support both of them (to my knowledge he's straight so it wouldn't have ever worked out, even tho I'm pretty sure we both used to like each other) but it's hard. I'm here if you need to talk

i just saw this

WELL DEAR READER BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU GUYS

I’m realizing i really don’t feel love in the traditional sense it’s passing obsessive peaks followed by LOVELY MIND NUMBING DEPRESSIVE EPISODES and 90% of the time it’s on someone absolutely unattainable (usually someone old in an authoritative position or the occasional aroace emotionally unavailable friend that wants nothing to do with me)

If anyone’s wondering my whole falling in love with best friend thing is going ok, i feel like i’m moving on, i no longer go out of my way to have emotionally intimate conversations with her to get to know each other on a deeper level, no longer go out of my way to know everything about her day and see if i can make any part of her life easier, really now all i do is meet her where she meets me ,

at the surface level

and we stay there

we talk about things that don’t matter, we banter on and off, joke around, i haven’t had a real conversation with her in a while and idk maybe that’s what i used to get me so intrigued - how she’s so confident in her friendships and doesn’t get attached like me, doesn’t get worried if someone else is in the picture, she just finds someone else to spend time with, how she’s so unaffected by everything and easy going so secure so independent

and then i realized this would never work regardless if she was with someone or not, even on a platonic level, she’s not capable of the kind of emotional intimacy i was looking for at the time and that’s ok

since she wasn’t giving it to me i got desperate for it, i wanted to be the ONE person who could understand and i wanted her to be the one that could understand me, but again i can’t do that on my own

Anyway so that’s what i realized and i’m trying to get over that by shoving myself into work. Sorry about the wedding thing annon YOU COULDNT PAY ME TO BE BEST MAN WHEN I WAS STILL OBSESSED actually i’d go definitely please i love some good salts in my wounds

wow some words there

[pacifymebby]

personally with saltburn i don’t think oliver had a true motive other than power, felix and his family are obviously very affluent but not only that but they are well liked (at least on a surface level) and i’m not sure if others can relate but in the beginning when you see oliver in his lectures with farleigh despite doing the work there’s a clear favouritism between the professor and farleigh and that is something i can relate to when in school if you work hard but aren’t as good at forming connections or are quieter teachers can prefer students who don’t work as hard and that does build resentment to people oliver clearly is very callous but we don’t know that at the beginning we are lied to just as felix is when we find out felix adopts people he sees as less than him every summer we start to dislike him. but then we find out oliver’s true nature and felix using working class people to boost his ego is nothing in comparison to that. but rich people and those close to them think they are untouchable and oliver brings them down one by one he disrupts their security from within their own home a vast estate which is far away from the problems those who are rich don’t even think of. i think oliver wanted what felix had which is being carefree around money, being able to treat people like they are unimportant and them still wanting to be around him basically being able to do what he wanted and oliver being someone clearly not in his right mind went to extreme lengths. at the end of the movie he’s looking at the toy that’s of the cattons they are dancing as puppets in front of him as he roams the house completely naked. this is so long i’m sorry if it doesn’t make sense also i understand if you don’t read all this!

Aw nah I read all of it and I get what you're saying as well, it's an interesting take.

I relate to that too at the beginning, but more on the level of like you can work as hard as you want and be as personable as you like but if you don't have connections and money in worlds like Oxford/Cambridge/St Andrews (the unis all the elite go to basically) then your intelligence and stuff doesn't mean that much. If your lectures went to uni with your classmates parents and regularly rub shoulders with them then you're not going to get the same leg ups and treatments.

The power thing definitely comes into it too, at first I was super confused about how Oliver seemed to keep switching between a very meek and submissive personality, playing at being awkward and shy, and then all of a sudden making out like he was Daddy with the sister and Farleigh, and tbh I think it was supposed to be jarring but also not directed wonderfully because it happened so awkwardly?

I genuinely think the whole things meant to be viewed as satire and total fantasy tbh, like Oliver isn't supposed to have much depth to him because he's just the representation of like the monster under the bed that the elites in the 21st century fear.

Something my friend pointed out too is that there's running theme of him being a parasite who wants to consume them all too... Like he sooks up Felix's bathwater, says the whole "I'm a vampire" thing to the sister, the way he kills the mum in the end too by cutting off her oxygen it's all very symbolic of that. So I think he really is supposed to be this garish rich persons worst nightmare. I dont know how much I think he even wants power, I think it mostly comes from a place of hatefulness and 0 respect? Like he low-key dances naked on their grave at the end naked dancing in front of the stones with their names on.

Like idk about you but I thought Felix was the perfect read on arsehole poshboy at school, that bit where Oliver gives him the bike and he's like "oh wow yah that's soh khaind" there's something about him that immediately rubs me up the wrong day because he doesn't see Oli or even notice people like that until they serve him in some way, we see him treat that girl as disposable too. When Oli says "I was just being what you wanted me to be" that's so what being in those sort of rich people's lives is like. And I suppose it's probably trying to ask us what's worse, to be like Felix and his family (who see no value in others other than to serve as their props) or to be like Oli (who sees no value in felix and his family other than to serve as leverage)

Like ultimately Oli and felix's family are all guilty of the same things - lying to people (Oli who obvs lies about so so much) (Felix in that he uses Oli and other poor people to lie to himself about how generous he is and like how charitable he is when really he just wants a pet) (the rest of the family who seem to lie to everyone by putting on this pretence of being lovely and accommodating, but are actually deeply judgemental and quite selfish/paranoid about being generous)

Like we see Olis disregard for human life in the way he kills them all, but we see felix's family also show disregard for human life too when their friend dies and the mother says "she'll do anything for attention" especially because you could argue their friend wouldn't have died if they hadn't pushed her out of the house for fear she was leaching off their hospitality.

The more I think about it I think that actually all Oliver's sins are mirrored by Felix and his family, lying, 0 respect for human life, leaching off others (because felix and his family leach off Oliver's trauma and like Rosamund's character is telling all her friends deeply personal traumatic shit about Oliver for her own social gain to show everyone how generous she is) like I wonder if in a way the point of the film is to make us question why we forgive Felix and his family for their evil but are disgusted by Oliver's. It's actually something Rosamund is constantly dropping too when she talks of her aversion to ugly people, she says about how "you wouldn't think it because she's such a riot to look at but..." as if like beautiful and stylish people can't be bad... Like I think wealth allows people to distance themselves from their moral ugliness in a ways that poverty prevents poor people from doing? There's probably a lot of academic research into this as a social trend but as I have read no deeper than Chavs by Owen Jones I am unfortunately unable to site anything other than when he talks about how we allow rich posh people to swear and say offensive things because they do it in a camp/quaint way, but we don't forgive working class celebrities for saying fuck or being racist (I don't think we should forgive racism btw it's just we forgive it in rich people more often than we do in poor people)

I'm also sorry this was so long, honestly I watched it not expecting to have this many thoughts but its actually really interesting to think about

[setsugekka]

Hi melty,

Pl irl anon here. It's been a minute! 2023 has proven to be a roller coaster so far.

Almost lost my mother last month after she was in the hospital for four weeks. She's slowly improving but I'm still wary until she makes more progress.

Then, two weeks ago, one of my cats died out of nowhere. So that was a whole 'nother experience.

But! I digress! Bf and me have been together 15 months! We're moving in together next month! So many other good things happening!

Ok ok ok on to the writing: pl again came to play. I'm not sure if I clearly saw any changes since the first time around but it was still like reading it for the first time.

And now atarashi??? I have no idea where I was when you originally posted it, but I'm already in love. Can't wait to see artist Hongjoong and all the others make questionable choices!

Love everything you touch! Do you think you'll ever bring back green house? I totally understand if you don't, that was my gateway fic to your genius mind!

All the loves, hope you and yours are well!

Ps - it's my birthday! 💜

wow, what a year for you.

first of all, i'm sorry to hear about your mother and also your beloved pet. i'm hoping for nothing but a speedy recovery for your family, both physically and emotionally, i can't begin to imagine how difficult that must be for you.

as for the relationship, however, YAY! some good news, haha! i'm excited for you, living with someone is tough but one of the best things i ever learned was to look at everything that pisses you off like a "price of admission" for being with them. "assuming this never changes, am i willing to pay the price of admission for being with this person," it's a good one to have, helps put things into perspective lmao.

paradise lost

i truthfully didn't really change anything about it except for SPAG stuff and the fact that some of the sentences in there were completely incomprehensible IHFGKJDHK no idea what i was trying to say with some of that stuff but yeah, mostly surface level changes. i considering taking out a lot of the smut and also redoing the ending but...i'm lazy, and don't care about pl enough to do it 😃

atarashii

to be fair you have had a lot on your plate and i don't really push my work out there that much lmao. QUESTIONABLE CHOICES THEY WILL MAKE!

hugs and kisses, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 💗💗💗

[liesoverthec]

the post hasn't surfaced yet so please use this ask to talk abt the objectification of the 911 men!!

Ahh May you’re too nice but also thank you, I’m gonna 😂💛

This got. CRAZY long bc I just had a million thoughts so I’m gonna stick it under a cut.

To be honest, I think the reason they do *any* sort of objectification at all is that middle aged and older viewers are used to being able to objectify actors to a certain extent. Lord knows it happens on literally every other single piece of media, and this is a mainstream broadcast show, not an indie series or the likes, so I think they have to cater to those people as well as us, and the WAY they do it is so interesting to me bc even when they’re doing it, they use it as a way to drive home other, deeper messages.

For starters, I feel like the show OG was trying to be in the pilot and the first few episodes would have objectified the men WAY more than we see now if there hadn’t been that shift in tone - the sex addict plot could have been SO much more extended and given us a lot more opportunities to see Buck shirtless and to objectify him and his body. So I find it SO interesting that around the same time as Bobby opening up about his family and his past, we also stop w/ Buck being blatantly shirtless all the time. Narratively, it signals to me the point where the writers moved away from the the typical tv show that will treat their actors like meat, and moved more into a “female gaze” show. And then what’s really interesting to me, is that for Buck, after that, when he has sex w Taylor Kelly in s2, both times we NEVER see him undressed. The second time they don’t get very far, but he’s wearing a buttonable shirt. He absolutely could have been wearing that shirt closed, and she could have opened it, and he could have been wearing nothing underneath it, and we would have seen his chest again in a sexy scenario - but they didn’t. In fact they made the DELIBERATE choice to give him an undershirt. And of course with the first time they cut away and just left us w the understanding that sex was happening, yet again taking away an opportunity to show O.S. at least partially undressed. Which is SO different from how s1 goes about it, where we actually see Buck w his shirt open and his underwear exposed MULTIPLE times. So it’s so incredibly interesting to me that while none of the (main/regular) women’s stories are ever about sex like Buck’s is, I also think it’s REALLY interesting that the objectification of the men was, and could have been, much worse and that they didn’t have to move away from that, but they did.

But then secondly! The very last time we get into a plot that revolves around the men’s bodies specifically is in 2x01, which is SUCH an interesting plot. Surface level - it’s just about the men competing about who’s more attractive, and we get lots of muscle flexing and hot manliness to go along with it. And it is, at a surface level, incredibly shallow. But simultaneously they use it to 1. Introduce the idea that Buck wasn’t a sex addict bc he was “dealing w the stress of the job” like s1 mostly implied. It was bc he’s desperate to feel useful and wanted by someone, and at that point he really wanted that acceptance within the firehouse, rather than from other people. (Bc lbr, Abby didn’t do shit for Buck. It was Bobby, opening up and accepting the family, and specifically Buck, that gave him the connection he’d been seeking through sex.) And then 2. They also use it as an opportunity to SPECIFICALLY, IN CANON, say that it’s what you do that makes you attractive, and that makes you a hero, not how you look. Which is just!!! A crazy message!!! Especially considering they follow through on it, particularly in the areas where the women are concerned!

And in regards to 2x01, it’s soooooo fucking interesting to me that the ONLY time we really truly see Eddie shirtless, he’s actually putting clothes ON. They literally do the opposite trope of 'giving the hot male an excuse to take his shirt off'. And sure, they make it a sexy moment, but there's absolutely interesting commentary there about him actively covering himself up at the moment he is most sexualized, and it being taken as a sexy thing. Something about how you don't have to be naked to be attractive, it's about your intent in your actions, rather than your physical body. (Probably me reading too far into it, but again, they COULD have had him striping off his regular shirt, a good few seconds of him shirtless digging through a bag, and THEN the sexy slow mo pulling shirt on. At the very least, when they objectify him there, they make it MUCH shorter than they could have, which is SO DAMN INTERESTING to me).

But then finally, we still do have shirtless scenes! But the fact that it’s Chim who’s shirtless is just SO FASCINATING. Bc THE WAY THEY DO IT - they're never dunking Chim in a lake, or having something spilled on him, like other shows would do, to get his shirt clinging to him and him to whip it off in a spray of water or whatever. It's in scenes where it makes sense for him to be shirtless, and its NEVER treated like a big deal. It's just Chim, in his body, comfortably living his life. So I think the way they do it gives him more respect than other shows give their male characters, let alone their female characters 💀

And it's SO interesting to me that they use Chim (I mean, besides the fact that K.C. clearly has muscles for days and wow of course you'd use Chim). But I just think - on any other show, it would absolutely be Buck who we see casually shirtless. And that WAS almost this show, which is why we saw him shirtless at all. But failing that, it should have been Eddie. And then of course, after Eddie, it should be Bobby. I mean, plenty of other shows go for the 'sexy middle-aged white man' (cough cough LS) so Bobby would be the next logical step in the "who are we gonna make our hot man?" ladder, also - P.K. has BICEPS THAT COULD CRUSH ME so I would not blame them for making him the hot one.

But - like I said in my tags on my original post - I'm always thinking about Chim's story in 2x01 with the calendar, and feeling like he never gets to be the hero (WHICH I COULD GO ON AND ON ABOUT HOW BEING THE HERO IS EQUATED THERE TO BEING THE HOT ONE, SO LIKE, CHIM BEING SHIRTLESS, SUBTLE REINFORCEMENT OF HIM BEING A HERO!) I love that for him, being the truly hot one on the team. And then you throw in his story from 2x04, and feeling like his life wasn't going anywhere and seeing him now, comfortable in his body and his life and being happy??

I wish no one had to be objectified and shirtless but I know this is broadcast tv, and honestly, the choice for it to be Chim, with his story and his background, in itself is I think a choice that makes me happy.

Of course, the show is nowhere near perfect, and I’d argue that it’s one of the areas they fall shortest in. Buck sleeping w his therapist would never have happened for a woman on this show, and it CERTAINLY wouldn’t have been brushed off again as a joke like it was in s3. And it really bothered me in 4x07 when the lady slapped Eddie’s ass, esp since he was clearly uncomfortable with it. I’d actually really enjoy seeing them write a plot for one of the men that addresses them feeling oversexualized as firefighters, and how people seem to think they have permission since the men are all public employees, bc I think the show could do it really well, and I think it’s an area that hasn’t been addressed on other shows recently (plus lbr I know I’m biased but I think OG would do it better if it has been done…)

So idk. I don’t know if I have a solid conclusion here. The show does SUCH a good job with the women, and a solidly less good job with the men - but I also see some really interesting choices at work that I really respect.

Thanks for the opportunity May, sorry if there was no coherent thread to this. 😂🤷‍♀️

[i-am-dead-inside-666]

Apologies

Steve/Tony(+Bucky)

Summary: Steve and Tony make up and a cute stuckony moment. Wow that’s a crap summary.

Warnings: some angst I guess but mostly fluff. Bad language.

Please don’t post this on other platforms without my permission. Thanks 😊

Nobody cared. Tony knew that, he'd been hiding in his lab for six days now, not coming up for showers or to sleep, barely eating. The only regular schedule he kept to was the hourly coffee renewal. Cold coffee reminded him too much of lazy mornings with.. Steve... soft cuddles and whispered nothings, mugs forgotten on their side tables.

He hadn't seen another human in over a week. He'd passed out in the lab several times, from lack of food and drink, or just pure sleep-deprivation, he didn't know.

Nobody had been to check on him, because that had always been Steve.

He'd always been there to pick him up, striding into his lab with confidence that only Captain America could hold. Sweeping Tony's exhausted body against his chest, he'd carry him up to their bedroom, where he'd hold him tightly in his arms until Tony felt a little bit less broken than before.

But Steve wasn't there anymore, no one was.

So he huddled in the tiny gap under his desk, his stomach twisted into so many knots that he could barely breath. His hands pulling at his hair, as though they had a mind of their own, his nails clawing painfully at his scalp.

His chest was hurting so badly, and he wasn't sure whether it was from where Steve had slammed his shield through the arc reactor, or the fact that it was Steve that slammed his shield through the arc reactor.

He loved Steve so much, and the pain at him abandoning him, like everybody else in his life, it made him feel completely worthless.

A low whirring noise dragged him from his thoughts, forcing himself to relax his hands, he loosened the grip he had on his hair and looked up. Through teary eyes, he watched as Dum-E nudged his chair out of the way and rolled closer to him.

"hey Dum-E." Tony managed to whisper, a small smile stretching his cracked lips. The robot cocked his claw, almost like someone would do when they were confused, then he pushed forwards until Tony reluctantly lifted his arm up and let the robot nuzzle against his side.

"...I know.. I miss him too." His trembling voice was barely heard audible over the blaring music that he was definitely not using to try and drown out his self-destructive thoughts.

Squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to stop anymore tears from escaping, he twisted his fingers back into his hair and tucked his head back between his knees.

————————————————————

"I don't want to be here long, I'm just grabbing some stuff." Steve muttered, more to himself than to Bucky as he hurriedly grabbed clothes from the wardrobe he and Tony used to share.

"Yeah whatever punk." Bucky answered, absentmindedly glancing around the room. His gaze settled on the neatly made double bed, too neat. His brow furrowed and he stepped forward, Steve was too busy rummaging through something to notice him.

He let his metal fingers trail lightly over the bed covers, concerned at the layer of dust that had accumulated there. There were two bedside tables, one on each side of the bed, in various states of disarray.

The one on the opposite side of the bed must have been Steve's, as he could see several half finished drawings scattered by the base of the lamp.

However it was the one nearest to him that drew his attention, it was much much messier than Steve's. There were several coffee stains on the surface, and Bucky couldn't help but roll his eyes, coffee was apparently the only thing the genius ever drank.

He was vaguely aware of the other objects cluttering the table, but his gaze was fixed on the nondescript flip phone, placed with almost inhuman precision so that it lined up perfectly with the frame of a picture.

The frame was facedown on the side table so that the picture it contained couldn't be seen. Glancing over his shoulder to check what Steve was doing, he had practically climbed half way inside the wardrobe, making Bucky grin despite himself.

Turning back to the bedside table, he ever so gently lifted the frame up, gasping softly at the beautiful scene captured behind the glass.

Steve and Tony, both in perfectly tailored suits, posed for the camera, the former holding the latter bridal style with ease. Bucky's heart fluttered at the dopey smile on Steve's face as Tony planted a firm kiss on his cheek.

Both of them had their left hands thrust towards the camera and Bucky's breath caught in his throat, matching silver bands glinted on their fourth fingers. Steve never told him he and Tony were actually married.

Confetti rained around the happy couple, a mix of red, blue and gold, celebrating the colours of the two superheroes. The confetti was suspended in the air around the two, reminding Bucky that that's what this was, a special moment from the past, from a happier time.

His ears pricked suddenly, detecting the slight increase in Steve's breathing, decades of living as the Winter Soldier had given him unparalleled senses.

He turned, the frame still clutched tightly in his new metal arm that had been anonymously delivered to him and Steve's hideout. The moment Steve had opened the package, he'd burst into tears and refused to leave his room for three hours. Yet he still insisted that Bucky use the arm, even if his smile strained slightly every time he set eyes on it.

Steve's face was almost as pale as Bucky remember it from the 40s, coupled with his wide eyed stare and trembling hands, he could almost believe they were the same person.

"I'm sorry I- I was just- looking." He anxiously tried to explain, gesturing half heartedly towards the messy side table.

The blonde blinked slowly, as if pulling himself from the depths of a dream, "It's.... fine." He waved away Bucky's poor attempt at an explanation, trying to hide the way his voice cracked.

"No it isn't." Bucky replied in a much more measured tone, gauging his friends reaction. Steve's jaw went from slack to so tight that Bucky was afraid he heard his teeth crack.

"Everything is fine." He ground out, stiffly turning back to his suitcase and aggressively beginning to stuff everything he'd pulled out of the wardrobe into it.

"You didn't tell me you guys were married."

The only response he got was a shrug and a murmur he could barely make out. "wasn't important."

Bucky sighed, gently placing the picture back down, upright this time. He made his way to the end of the bed and perched there, softly tugging on Steve's shoulder until he huffed and joined him, falling heavily onto the bed.

Back in the tower, back in this room, back on this bed, all the memories Steve had been suppressing came rushing back to the front of his mind. Almost without thinking, he leant his head down to rest on Bucky's shoulder.

He couldn't help but miss the feel of Tony's, softer and lower, Buck's were.... harder, tough cords of muscles beneath his shirt. Both were comforting and familiar, but he couldn't have both... could he?

The former Winter Soldier was momentarily taken aback by the sudden contact, and he stiffened. He couldn't help it, seventy years of being conditioned to fear human touch.

A pang of guilt shot through him, as he could tell he'd managed to make Steve feel worse because as soon as he realised he'd tensed up, Steve had bolted upright, like a child caught doing something wrong.

Quickly wiping his tears from his cheeks, he mumbled, "M'sorry, I shouldn't have brought you here Buck, we can leave.. I'll send Nat to grab my stuff later."

Knowing he'd crossed some sort of line, Bucky simply nodded, watching from the bed as Steve returned to rooting through the chest of drawers.

Finally, curiosity got the best of him, "Watcha looking for now?"

"My dog tags." Steve muttered, slamming his fist on to the drawers, wincing at the audible crunch. "I- I gave them to Tony." He swallowed thickly, "But they aren't here."

"Where else could they be? The kitchen? The-"

"Lab!" Steve exclaimed, finishing Bucky's sentence for him. "Fuck." He swore, clenching his fists tightly to stop himself from punching something, anything.

"Then go get 'em." Bucky prompted, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes as Steve's jaw practically fell open.

"Wh-what?!" He spluttered, "You- want me- to go up to my husband who I left and- and- say hey, uh- yeah, sorry to intrude, but you know that really important meaningful thing I gave you- yeah- I want them back." Steve raised his voice to a dramatically high pitch, earning another low sigh from his exasperated boyfriend/friend whatever they were.

"Do you love him?" Steve's eyes practically fell out of his head at the question, shifting slightly on the bed Bucky continued, "Lemme rephrase, do you love him more than you love me?"

"I- what?!"

"I see the way you look at him. You.. you don't look at me like that." He continued, wincing as Steve's features contorted in pain.

"Buck I-"

The brunet stood up so that the two were eye level, even that jarred Steve for a moment, his words dying in his throat, he was so used to looking down....

"-don't feel bad," Steve frowned, forcing himself to stop thinking about Tony, to focus on Bucky's next words.

"I- I've been wanting to talk to you about this anyway.." Bucky trailed off, thinking about how to phrase his next sentence, "I know we used to talk about us back in the forties, and- it really is a dream come true that we got a chance to figure- this-" he gestured between them, "out, but- you aren't- you aren't happy with me.."

Glancing sadly back at the photo, he couldn't help the low sigh that left his lips, "You love Stark- Tony." He corrected himself.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Steve pressed his palms against his temples. "You're right!" He yelled, "But you're also wrong! So fucking wrong!"

The vein in his jaw twitched as he gritted his teeth, alerting Bucky to just how annoyed he was. "I'm... wrong?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes I love Tony! But I also love you! And- and- I can't choose!"

"Well maybe you don't have to.." Bucky thought out loud, Steve's gaze snapped towards him.

"What?"

Bucky shook his head, "Nothing, it doesn't matter, just- go talk to him you punk."

A bittersweet smile creep crept up Steve's face, "Shut up jerk." He retorted, making his way to the door, he paused for a moment in the doorway, hesitating. Impatiently, Bucky waved him away, ignoring Steve as he rolled his eyes.

Thoughts raced through Steve's head at a million miles an hour as he walked down the hall, what if Tony didn't want to see him, what if he was mad at him, hell, if Steve were him he'd be mad at himself-

He was at the doors to the lab way before he was prepared, he could already hear Tony's music through the doors.

Steve didn't realise his fists were clenched until he forced himself to relax, exhaling sharply as he examined the crescent shaped indents in his palms.

Taking a shaky breath to steady himself, he cast his eyes towards the ceiling, an old habit that he could never shake. "Ja- Friday? Could- um- could you let me in please?"

"I'm sorry Captain Rogers, Mr Stark has removed you from the system. I am unable to grant you access to the lab."

Steve's frown deepened, what could he do now? Break the door down?

Friday's smooth voice interrupted his internal monologue, "Although, if the door to the lab was accidentally left unlocked, technically I wouldn't be allowing you access."

A small grin lit Steve's face up, "I knew I liked you." He chuckled under his breath, tugging on the door which slid open with ease.

"Tony? Are you here?" Steve asked hesitantly, as he stepped into the room, his words nearly inaudible over the music.

His gaze swept over the empty room, he waited a moment before moving towards the bombsight of a desk opposite him. He subconsciously kept his footsteps light, a habit he'd picked up trying not to wake Tony if he'd fallen asleep in the lab.

He reached the desk, glancing over the papers scattered across it, he paused as he recognised the blueprints for Bucky's new arm.

Tearing his eyes away, he was almost ready to pack it in and leave, but as he turned, his enhanced eyesight caught the sliver of steam rising from the coffee mug.

The line between his brows deepened and he let his knuckles drag across the porcelain, nearly hissing at the heat. Since when did Tony drink his coffee that hot?

Then it hit him. Hot coffee, Tony must still be here, he wouldn't have been able to sneak past Steve. A low sigh slipped through his lips, he knew exactly where Tony was.

Rounding the desk, he gently pushed the chair to the side, crouching down to peer into the foot space beneath the desk.

What he saw made his heart shatter and his eyes well with tears. Sure he'd seen tony like this before, huddled beneath his desk, shaking, crying, pulling his hair hard enough to keep him grounded.. and every time he saw him like that, his chest ached, but this time, this time he knew that he had caused this, Tony was in pain because of him, and that hurt.

Tony's grip on his dark locks loosened, and he turned towards the sound of Steve's voice, his watery eyes widened, "Steve?"

Hearing Tony's broken voice was the last straw and the tears he'd previously managed to hold back fell from Steve's baby blue eyes, spilling down his pale cheeks.

"You're not real." Tony finally mumbled, pressing his palms over his eyes and shaking his head. Steve barely heard his whisper, but he did, and his hand tightened, his fingers pressing dents into the desk where he gripped it.

"Friday. Pause the music." He growled, anger at himself seeping into his tone. Tony looked up at the sudden silence, his stare blank as he seemed to look straight through Steve.

His gaze sharpened suddenly, bloodshot eyes meeting Steve's with such intensity that the super soldier nearly flinched. "I know you're not real!" He snapped, "Now get out of my head."

Tony waved his hand in dismissal, mere centimetres from Steve's nose. He made an attempt to crawl out from under the desk, nearly tripping over Dum-E. Steve quickly moved backwards out of his way, watching Tony as he stood up and attempted to straighten his clothes.

The brunet refused to look in Steve's direction, he simply offered a small smile to Dum-E. Steve jumped up as Tony turned to walk towards a separate bench, picking up a small and hunching forward over a delicate piece of machinery.

"Tony- please.. I really am here." Steve tried again, desperation creeping into his voice. Tony hesitated, sure, he'd hallucinated seeing Steve before, but never like this, it never hurt as much as this.

He turned slowly, screwdriver still clutched tightly in his fist, his fingernails pressing deep enough into his palms to draw blood as he cautiously stepped towards his husband.

He was on edge, waiting for this hallucination of Steve to turn on him, slam his shield into his chest, say something horribly hurtful and horribly true or simply wait until he could almost touch him, and then vanish.

Steve's eyes flicked between the sharp object Tony was gripping like a lifeline, and his face, so full of pain and hurt that Steve's stomach twisted with guilt. Not wanting to scare the skittish engineer, he froze.

Tony bit his lip as he edged nearer, taking in Steve's rigid posture, neither of them even dared to breath.

The hand that wasn't gripping his screwdriver moved, almost subconsciously towards Steve's face, trembling as his fingers followed the sharp line of his jaw. A frown creased his brows at the rough stubble there, the screwdriver slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor, although neither of them acknowledged it.

"You're really here?" He asked, uncertainty making his voice waver slightly. Steve nodded slowly, searching Tony's deep brown eyes for any hint of forgiveness or understanding, "I'm here Tones."

"Don't. Call. Me. That." Tony hissed, withdrawing his hand suddenly. He tore his eyes from Steve's, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I don't care if you're really here! Get the fuck out of my lab!"

"Tony-" Steve corrected himself, "Don't push me away- I swear I feel so bad about- about Siberia-" he cringed as soon as the word left his mouth, leaving a bitter taste in its wake.

Shivers shook Tony's body, spreading out from between his shoulder blades as every single memory he'd been struggling to repress came flooding back.

His parents. He was looking at his parents, after so long, he'd nearly forgotten what they looked like, how beautiful his mum was.

He knew what was coming, but he couldn't help but flinch as the car careened off the road, smashing into a tree.

He watched, barely breathing as The Winter Soldier ripped his life apart. Hatred burned like acid in his stomach, but not towards Bucky, not even towards The Winter Soldier, but towards himself.

For nearly thirty years, he'd hated his father, hated him for every time he was 'too busy' to spend time with him.

Hated him for every time he compared him to Steve.

Hated him for drinking that little bit too much and slapping him around.

But all that blame for his mother's death, was completely misplaced. Tony's heart ached as he recalled his fathers last words from the video.

"Maria- my wife- please help my wife..... Sergeant Barnes?"

"-ny- breathe- come on- follow my breathing." Steve's voice cut through Tony's panic and he realised that he could feel the steady thrum of a heartbeat beneath his fingers.

Biting back sobs, Steve pulled Tony's body against his chest, moving slightly so that Tony's head could rest against his broad shoulder.

"Come on Tony, I'm sorry- you're in the lab with me. Remember. Follow my breathing." The feel of Steve's warm, familiar shape wrapped around him comforted Tony as he struggled to control his erratic heart and heavy breathing.

"I'm sorry- please don't leave me- stay please- I don't wanna.. don't wanna be alone-" Tony mumbled, eyes still unfocused and slightly glazed.

"No- I'm sorry Tony. I- I screwed up big time." Slowly, Tony's breathing evened, but he let quiet, listening to Steve's explanation.

"Me and Buck weren't exactly accepted in the 40s. So we stopped ourselves, pretended we didn't have feelings for each other. And then I went into the ice and I thought I'd never see him again."

He sighed heavily, subconsciously running his hand down Tony's side, "I really love you baby, I swear I thought I'd completely moved on. But then he came back." Steve's face twisted into a grimace, "And all those old feelings came flooding back- an' I couldn't lose him again-"

His voice broke at the end, and he dropped his head into the crook of Tony's neck, his shoulders shaking.

"I'm sorry." He cried, tears soaking through Tony's T-shirt. Blinking back his own tears, Tony carefully extricated himself from Steve's tight embrace. He didn't pull away entirely though, simply twisted himself in Steve's lap until they were facing.

He carefully cupped Steve's jaw, tilting the soldiers face so that their equally teary eyes met. His thumb rubbed small circles over the rough stubble as he contemplated his next words.

"I understand why you did it.... which makes it even harder I guess, 'cause I know I'd do the same for Rhodey." Tony sighed, "I can't forget about this, not yet... it still hurts too much." He rubbed at his chest slightly, his gaze softening when Steve's face fell.

"But I can forgive you." He finished, blue eyes meeting brown as though they were seeing each other properly for the first time.

Steve was rendered breathless for the second time in less than half an hour, as Tony's hand snaked round the back of his head, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Neither of them moved for several long, tense moments, they simply stared into one another's eyes, mapping their faces out in their minds as they recalled every reason why they fell in love in the first place.

Then Steve moved, leaning forward to capture Tony's lips in a slow and cautious kiss, his large hands sliding up Tony's side, rucking his shirt up and tugging him closer to his chest.

Relaxing into Steve's arms, Tony's eyes slid shut and he melted into the familiar feeling of Steve's lips against his own. He smiled into the kiss as Steve's tongue swept along his bottom lip, easily working its way into his mouth and pushing between his teeth.

They kissed until they ran out of oxygen, breathing heavily and in sync as they pulled away.

Tony tilted his head forward so that his forehead rested against Steve's, his eyes still closed as he caught his breath.

"I missed you." He confessed, peering through his lashes at Steve, "And I'm sorry for screaming."

The blonde chuckled softly, "I did deserve it." His face turned serious again, "I am sorry, Tony."

Just as a smug grin crept up his face, Tony chose that exact moment... to faint.

Panic gripped Steve's chest for a moment as the brunette slumped against his chest, then he heard Tony's stomach grumble loudly, and felt the ribs poking through his shirt.

"Oh Tony." He sighed, rolling his eyes as he easily scooped the shorter man into his arms and striding out of the lab.

"Wh-" Tony's sleepy mumble made a smile tug at the corner of Steve's lips, even as he had to tighten his grip when Tony attempted to wriggle out of his arms.

"M'fine- gerrof!" He growled, pushing against Steve's broad chest, "S'fine you apologised, you can go now- put me down!"

So Steve did, dropping Tony onto one of the kitchen stools so that he was sat at the island, facing Steve as he started pulling ingredients out of the cupboards.

"What are you doing?" Tony groaned, placing his chin in his hand to stare at Steve.

Steve ignored the question, asking one of his own, "When was the last time you ate?" Glancing over his shoulder, he sighed in exasperation as Tony shrugged, mumbling an off handed, "I dunno."

"Jeez Tones, have you thrown all my food away? He complained, throwing his arms up in annoyance.

Tony shrugged again, "I don't like your rabbit food." He fastened his gaze on the floor, "And it reminded me too much of you."

Steve tensed at Tony's mumbled statement, turning around to stare at him as he continued, "Didn't know if you'd be coming back anyway."

"Tony-"

The brunet sighed, "Don't, I told you, I get it." He muttered, half way off of the stool before a large hand landed on his shoulder, pushing him back down.

"Sit. Down." Steve snarled, "We are not discussing this now. I am making you some healthy, nutritious food. Then you are going to brush your teeth, get in the shower and go the fuck to sleep. Cause no offence but you look like shit."

Tony rolled his eyes but remained seated, brushing Steve's hand off his shoulder, "Language." He mocked, trying to lighten the mood.

A low chuckle left Steve's throat, and he moved back towards the stove, cracking several eggs into a bowl and beginning to whisk them.

Tony stifled his own giggle, glancing around the kitchen as his stomach growled again, his eyes drifted over the door and he stiffened.

Watching Tony's eyes widen in fear, Bucky felt guilt settle on his shoulders. He edged his way out of the doorway, avoiding eye contact with Tony as he cleared his throat quietly.

Steve whipped round at the noise, "Uh- Buck- I.. we were just..." he gave up when he saw Tony's judgemental stare from the corner of his eye, he gestured awkwardly at the omelette, "Food."

"Right, do you want me to go? Natasha sent the quinjet over." Tony's face crumpled at the mention of the red headed spy's name, remembering the sharp sting of betrayal that stabbed his chest every time he thought of her.

Steve glanced worriedly at Tony, "Ah- no. It's fine," he slid a plate across the island and Tony frowned in disgust, trying to ignore the super soldiers presence somewhere behind him.

"Steve- it's green." He pointed out, prodding it suspiciously with his fork. Steve rolled his eyes, dropping into the seat opposite Tony, "It's got spinach in it you baby, just eat it."

"Keep rolling your eyes and you might find a brain somewhere back there."

"Shut up. Not all of us are geniuses ya know," Steve shot back, his Boston accent creeping into his voice.

"Evidently." Tony snarked, stabbing his omelette again. "Oh for fuck sake!" Steve cursed, trying to hide his grin as he yanked the plate towards him and snatched the fork out of Tony's hand.

Bucky smiled at how quickly the two of them fell into what he assumed were old habits, trading sarcastic comments like sweets at Halloween.

"I don't need you to cut my food up. I'm not a baby Steve. And watch your language."

Steve frowned, shoving the plate back towards Tony with his omelette now in bite sized pieces. Tony pulled another disgusted face, but grudgingly started eating anyway.

"Buck do you want one?" Steve asked, standing up and grabbing a couple more eggs, they were large ones, but still sat easily in the palm of his hand.

Bucky hesitated, decisions had always been difficult for him after... hydra, but this one was the worst he'd ever faced.

Sure Steve, why wouldn't I wanna sit down to a nice meal with you and your husband, oh yeah, your husband, you know the guy you cheated on with me and then left half beaten to death in a freezing bunker. Could this get any more awkward?!

"Um-" he hummed, silently hoping that someone would make the decision for him. Steve smiled tightly, noticing Bucky's discomfort, he pointed at the seat next to Tony, "Sit down, I'll make you one.

Apparently it can get more awkward! Why, why would you sit me next to him, it's not like we tried to kill each other like a week ago. Bucky felt like face palming, was Steve really an oblivious asshole or was he actively trying to start a fight.

He cautiously moved towards the stool that Steve had gestured at, trying to ignore the way Stark shifted away from him, shoulders tensed.

Measuring his breathing helped calm him slightly, in, out, in, out, four even breaths later and he was sliding into the seat next to Tony.

They sat together in silence whilst Steve finished cooking another omelette, sliding it onto a plate and across the island.

"Eat up ba-" Steve blushed, cutting himself off as Tony's grip tightened around his fork, the metal grinding against the porcelain of the plate. "-ucky. Bucky." He tried to save himself, his face redder than a beetroot.

A loud yawn broke the silence that followed, and both Steve and Bucky turned to stare at the sleepy engineer. When he noticed their stares, he shot them both a cold glare, "What? I'm tired ok." He snapped.

Steve grinned, "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Stop treating me like a baby Steve. I can take care of myself." The blonds eyebrow quirked at Tony's statement.

"Really? When was the last time you actually slept in your bed?" Tony flushed, "You used to pass out in the lab, quite often if I remember correctly."

"Is this your long winded way of getting me into bed? Cause I hate to tell you, but you might wanna up the romance a bit." Tony sassed, sliding off his stool and stumbling towards the door.

Steve laughed, "Gimme a sec while I put this stuff away." He scooped the eggshells off the side of the counter and moved to put them in the bin. Whilst he was busy cleaning up, Tony continued to stagger away from them.

He'd barely made it three steps before his knees buckled and the ground rushed towards his face.

Suddenly, strong arms were wrapped around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides, caging him into a broad chest. Tony gasped softly, his nose inches from the floor, "Thanks babe." He mumbled, twisting in the tight grip so that he could look up at- BUCKY?

Tony felt heat rise up his face, "Uh- I thought you were Steve?" He squeaked, sounding more like a question than a statement, he smiled weakly as he met Bucky's deep brown eyes.

"Hmm, you're cute when you blush." Bucky muttered without thinking, staring down at the small man trapped between his body and the floor.

"Um- do you two want me to leave? Give you some privacy?" Steve cut in, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

Bucky jumped as though he'd forgotten Steve was in the room, he glanced over his shoulder, ignoring Tony as he wriggled between his arms.

"Um sorry that bambi here hasn't figured out how to walk properly yet." He stated, a teasing edge to his words, before Tony could even blink, he was cradled like a baby into Bucky's chest.

There was an arm hooked beneath his knees, and another on lower back which held him steady, the metal cool against his hot skin, even through the material of his shirt.

Tony could hear Steve's heavy footsteps follow them as he was carried into the bedroom and dropped unceremoniously onto the bed. He bounced onto the soft mattress, a low uff pushing past his lips at the shock. Bucky couldn't help but grin, pushing a stray hair out of the billionaires face and tucking it behind his ear.

Steve smiled softly at the two of them, pulling the corner of the duvet back so that Tony could snuggle beneath it.

Without thinking, he leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Lingering for several moments, he eventually pulled away, opening his mouth to ask Bucky whether he was ready to go, when a hand circled his wrist.

Tony blinked up at him sleepily, "Please stay." He whispered, tugging the super soldier back towards the bed.

Steve shot a wary glance at Bucky, who was laughing silently at the confusion on Steve's face. "It's fine jerk, I'll go meet 'tasha on the quinjet."

"Nah uh." Tony's childish pout was directed at Bucky, making the assassins heart melt at the pleading looks in his doe brown eyes and sulkily stuck out lip.

"You... want me to stay?" He hesitated, surely this was overstepping at least 100 boundaries.

"Please." Tony whined, his eyes seeming to get wider and cuter the longer they were fixed in Bucky's.

Steve chuckled, "Oh dear, you've made the mistake of looking into his puppy dog eyes. He knows they get me every time." Bucky finally managed to tear his eyes away from Tony's, to realise that Steve had stripped into his boxers and was sliding in to the bed next to Tony.

The two stared at him expectantly and he shuffled, rubbing the hairs at the back of his neck, "I dunno, is there even enough room in the bed? I-"

"I'm not going to sleep until you join us." Tony sulked, folding his arms across his chest.

Bucky sighed dramatically, his hands awkwardly fumbling as he yanked his hoodie over his head along with his T-shirt. He opted to leave his sweatpants on, and slowly edged under the covers.

The bed was plenty big enough for all three of them, with enough room for Bucky and Steve to be able to comfortably stretch out. Tony sighed in satisfaction, nuzzling his head int Bucky's chest as Steve curled around him.

Cautiously, Bucky brought his metal hand up from where it rested against the covers, he loved his new arm and he made a mental note to thank Tony for it tomorrow. He'd been working especially hard on learning to control his strength.

Now wanting to scare Tony or himself, he moved at the pace of a snail to rest his fingers in the engineers thick locks. Amazingly, he could actually feel the hair against his hand, and ever so gentle, he began to play with the soft brown hair, smiling at the content hum it earned him.

Bucky stayed awake for much longer than both Steve and Tony, the latter passing out minutes after Bucky had started playing with his hair. Steve took longer to fall asleep, but as Bucky lay perfectly still, he listened to the blonds breathing get slower and steadier.

Looking down at the two men cuddled up next to him, he couldn't help the warm feeling of hope that spread through his chest. A small smile curling his lips, he let the soft exhales of his friends lull him to sleep.

[faorism]

needing the au to drop wherein i can commit to writing a historical au,, because since i first watched the db cooper job my mind went straight to OT3! OT3! OT3! (unlike with the van gogh job, since i aint playing with that fucking lieutenant)

one day maybe one dayyyyy i will sit down and i will write the ot3 into that episode's story. so, it'll be the backgrounds for the characters in the flashback (so, stephanie ritter, steve reynolds, and reggie wilkins), but with the necessary personality adjustments (parker, eliot, and hardison respectively). basically, vintage ot3 with some hot as hell aesthetics and secrets and avoiding as much as possible producing copraganda.

so. my thoughts. what i see happening. and this got super long so im throwing this under a cut. and for ease i will call them by their modern day canon names except when making a point.

first, general thoughts about the characters.

and so: steve to eliot. nothing much here on the surface. eliot still volunteers, too much an indoctrinated white man to have been forcibly drafted. so its still one man gone to war. one man come back. eliot would had been noticed early in training for his ability to pick shit up, and they teased at maybe sending him to a special unit. maybe they do, or maybe they don't because they just need to funnel fuckers to the jungle. the vietnam invasion was a terrorist imperialist venture and there's no romanticizing from me about anything done being at all valorous or special or brother-in-arms'y. and eliot commits war crimes under the american stars and stripes instead of just to keep moreau's champaign running. but also maybe moreau is eliot's superior. he certainly would have been rewarded for this ruthlessness. (eliot of course strove to impress moreau because there aint an eliot spencer who wasn't that man's dog at some point, i!!!! dont make the rules). eliot's friend died and eliot's gone off to carry out his wishes and moreau lets him because he Knows eliot is gonna come back. whether its to come back to the same squad, or follow him into deeper spy shit for the military, or to fuck off and go private. then eliot meets parker.

now. stephanie to parker. beth plays normal so well im mad at her, but there's something edgy and strategic about stephanie that i think parker can grab onto. i feel that maybe she was kind of a thief still, but there's more realism to this world so archie wasnt a super secret spy with lasers to practice with, but just a guy with sticky fingers whos a little bored and wants a protege. parker is good really good at what she does, and not having to deal with lasers makes me easy. but she's into scams that are less grifts and more Catch Me If You Can slight of hands. she's always looking for easy money (she was into lifting cars at one point! literally she follows where the crime is). she's doing something in an airport and someone tries to recruit her as a flight attendant because she's got the Look. and yall, flight attendants? that shit was like being a model and an astronaut and a time traveler back then. and according to a teacher i had, who once worked as in the f.a. union, those ladies back in the day were rad and queer and free spirited and runnnnning shit. i think, yes, it's a Job which i think we might resist placing parker into. but! of the jobs, at the time, i really see her rocking it during the time period. (also come on, the opportunities to swindle distracted people of their shit would be endless. they would just think they dropped their stuff in the airport! not that it was stolen.)

finally, reggie to alec. i think hardison will be the hardest to translate. even tho i admittedly listen to a lot of true crime podcasts, i dont know much about fbi life and also definitely don't know about it historically. part of me desperately wants to put him somewhere else even if it does have to stay within the fbi. i might cheat and make him like a Q(uartermaster) to 007/00s like in james bond, and he's like UGH this is horrible god i hate working for the fbi but they will give me funding so...... anyway, here's this totally cool [radio term]. that said, if hardison is stuck in the fbi, why he ends up there is that he is a fucking savant when it comes to research and the man can put together a presentation like no one else. that white man gets all the credit for profiling but it was hardison who goddamn was the google of the microfilm days. reggie felt super square but that might be because he had to deal with mcsweeties db cooper shit day in and day out for years. hardison is more himself. and definitely still a nerd. alec would be into dime fantasy novels and comics and ham radios and oh god he also would be into star trek like the original star trek as it came out and he would be into the zines yes! yessss. omg. also he plays a mean arcade cabinet. but he's mostly well adjusted but lonely. his colleagues dont appreciate him because fbi esp during that time were fucking wilding out and racist as hell aaaaaand im sorry im srry im trying so hard to have fbi hardison make sense but also! acab. ANYWAY.

second, the relationship

i think it would be fun to play with what it means to have parker/eliot start off first and bring in hardison afterwards. (if white collar is your thing, it would be like this canon divergent ot3 fic wherein peter burke is the last to join in.) i feel they would be Super Intense esp since they are carrying this big ass secret. kind of broken and dysfunctional and there's the passion and the commitment, but i think there's also a tenderness that's super hard for them to achieve? and i think there's a way that hardison plays such an important part in who they are and how they are. like, sure i think parker/eliot would have joy but they won't have levity. they would have compassion but they won't have gentleness.

eliot meets hardison after being recruited by nate. i think they get close because while nate and eliot have an interesting and compelling mentorship/friendship, nate is still eliots superior; sometimes its nice to complain about your boss, as hardison will say to eliot to try to make friends. i think hardison and eliot would become legit friends and not just work buddies because they are just not cut out of the same cloth as the rest of their colleagues. they grab beers after work. after hard days, hardison cajoles eliot into going to the arcade. they are friends. real real truly deep best friends, in a way hardison didn't think he could have with a fed and eliot didnt think he would have after his friend died. but also? they are like "buds" who are buds who are desperately tryna to cross any lines because there's a.... tension? an UST between them they dont know what to do with.

parker meets eliot by way of a "lets have my friend for dinner, he's a blast." and immediately immediately hardison is like... wow this woman is beautiful but like, really attracted to her personality. and parker things hardison is kinda dorky but cute dorkie? anyway, they have a puppy love situation growing. and it keeps growing until bam. eliot and parker are like. are we into alec???? fuck we are aren't we.

i think stephanie and steve would never tell reggie (even if somehow they were to be a thing). but parker and eliot? hell yeah they tell hardison. eventually. after a while. sooner than maybe they should. the tension if they should say something is one of the things that build up as UST between them for so long; parker and eliot know they are carrying this huge thing. two huge things. eliot being db cooper and also their massive crush on him.

if i could control myself to stick to a pwp, it would be another christmas. maybe the christmas nine (more?) years down the road. the damn snow grounded hardison's flight back to his nana's, and parker and eliot hear this and invite him over. the egg nog gets flowing and parker eventually is like,, fuck this. and comes onto hardison. and hardison would be like wow wow what but... idk, free love and swinging were In The Thoughts And Minds Of The People. he still checks in with eliot who is like. her body, man; i aint gonna tell her what to do. and for a sec hardison is like, man is this a cuck situation? i guess i can be for it but also...... aint mad if i aint alone. and eliot is so grateful and idk. i just want them all to be happy and having fun and no one to be left out. and yeah i am kinda brushing over a lot of the racial politics which, in a more developed fic rather than a pwp, would definitely need to be brought in; but idk that needs to just be in the bedrock of whatever plot is going into this.

it takes a lot of maneuvering of their lives but they make it work and eventually hardison is a keeper of eliot's secret too.

(apart from the historical aspect, another reason i probably won't actually write this is because i know myself. i would want to do worldbuilding. i would follow eliot and alec to their jobs, but i wouldnt want to write outright copaganda. the grit/realism i would be comfortable with would take a level of research i dont think i can commit to. but if someone wants to take this up or if you figure out a way around this issue, pls do i wont be mad)

[life-rewritten]

TharnType 7 Years: A flashback to the past and A foreshadow of the future aka The truth of TharnType and LeoFiat ;Episode 6

Guess what another Tharn and Type analysis, another repetition of the duality, mirroring, shadowing of Tharn and Type (TT) and Leo and Fiat, but this time it's even more complicated, and every time I analyse these two it gets even more complicated and painful. I'm going to try and write out a full analysis of why Leo and Fiat (LF) are more complicated when you try to compare them to TT. Fiat reminds us of Type in season 1; he's stubborn, immature and problematic and Leo reminds us of Tharn just by longing secretly for Fiat and always putting Fiat's well being first, but that's only on the surface. Leo and Fiat have even more depth than those comparisons, there are times where Fiat is actually more like Tharn and Leo is more frustrating as Type. Confused? Let's go into more detail.  Also JUST realised that it’s both episode 6 of season 1 and season 2 that are mirrored this way. That’s incredible. 

What I like Mame and her writing for shows is that she loves making sure you go through a journey with her characters. Her villains usually are not just one-dimensional irrational villains, they have depth, in fact, most of the time they have their own love interest later, sometimes we root for them (like Tin from Love By Chance Season 1, and Tul from a chance to love), sometimes we feel upset and angry and frustrated at the actions they do. It's no surprise in a show as explosive as TT we get Fiat, someone who is also very polarising. But you know what? I love that about him. I didn't think this series will make me fall for another couple as much as I love TT, but no I am obsessed with Leo and Fiat, their dynamic, their requited longing that they both don't see and think it's unrequited from their point of views, their love for each other and what they mean to each other. 

You can find my previous Tharn and Type posts about how this season is about Misunderstandings, Misreading and Miscommunications from two different perspectives, our couples all have something to overcome since they don't see each other's views, and Leo and Fiat are the same. The most important thing they don't know about each other is how much, how great, how uncontrollably they are with their love for each other. Leo is refusing to show it, and Fiat is more reactive and preventive to it. Both are idiots who can't see something so obvious, but hey that's what makes this trope even more angsty and dramatic, both couples go through drama, pain and we the audience join the ride. And it's funny people complain that this show has no angst as the past season. Still, Leo and Fiat literally are the plotline of the past season, just as angsty, just as passionate (despite no s*x) and just as dramatic and idiotic. 

 What I love about TT and LF as a couple is that they both are flawed. It's funny because other people always focus on just one of the couples as the most problematic, but no, they are always both all in need of growth and change. Shocking right? It seems like we should feel sorry for Leo, and hate and complain about Fiat's personality, but actually, Leo is just as problematic as Fiat, he's also been a source of hurt to Fiat for so long. The same way in season 1, Type was to Tharn, and Tharn was to Type at the beginning when he didn't know what Type went through. The beautiful thing is seeing how love changes these characters, how needing each other makes them finally become who they're meant to be and how they finally get to their end; confident, happy and satisfied. And we the audience are part of this, we end up crying, and never wanting to let go of the show.  Let me show you how:

Tharn Type and Pufai vs Leo Fiat and Type dilemma

Ah yes, I'm sure you've seen the similarities and mirroring to Leo and Fiat with Tharn and Type in season 1 episode 4-7. The introduction of Pufai caused a massive problem for Tharn and Type and almost caused them to end everything. One because it was the most hurtful Type was to Tharn, and two because it was the only time Tharn almost gave up on Type. It's so interesting when you look at what was happening at that time, and then when you look at Fiat and Leo, you see the similarities on a different level. Let me explain;

When Pufai shows up Tharn and Type are unofficial, they call themselves s*x friends, Type ensures Tharn that they're not in a relationship and he shouldn't overstep the line with it. Tharn as always is more believing that he can make Type agree to be his, and everything seems great at that time. Except then Pufai shows up, she's interested in Type and is precisely what he thinks is his type, he also is enjoying getting to know her, and he finds himself intrigued by her flirting with him. Type does not see any problem (though there's guilt) to flirting with Pufai because he's not dating Tharn, they're not official, they are just friends with benefits. Type keeps it a secret; he's seeing Pufai, but Tharn finds out and loses his cool, how could Type do this? Isn't he his? This leads Type to emphasise on the unofficiality of their relationship with a list of rules, they were never meant to be anything. Tharn is accepting of this at first because it's the only way he can stay with Type however the more Type gets close to Pufai, mostly planning to sleep and ask her to be his girlfriend, the more his heart shatters. Tharn proceeds to break down and cry about the futile love he has for Type. He has to move on, but he doesn't know how. Except, Type realises that if there are people like Pufai in his life, there'd be others for Tharn, he doesn't like that; Tharn is his, and so from here we see Type apologise, and TT become official to each other. Their relationship is now deemed unbreakable, no one else is allowed to break it, they've chosen each other as their person. You may be wondering why I have just repeated this whole storyline, but it's crucial, now read through this summary of Leo and Fiat and try and find out why:

Leo and Fiat are friends, but not really. They've been close to each other for 10 years. I say not really because everyone even we can tell there's more to them. Fiat is always trying to cross the line with their friendship; he ensures Leo knows he wants him to flirt and notice him. Leo ignores this and thinks Fiat is fickle and not serious. Fiat then proceeds to sleep with others, and flirt with others to take his attention from that. But each time that happens, he gets bored and returns back to Leo flirting and asking for his attention like a child. Leo is comfortable with this, as long as he's Fiat's main focus, as long as he's able to keep Fiat by his side, then what they have is excellent. Except Type shows up, he's Fiat's type, he's intrigued in getting to know him, and Type pays attention to Fiat more than others do, for Fiat, they have a connection, something feels warm and safe with Type, and wow he wants to pursue what he has with Type. Pause before episode 4 Fiat didn't know Type wasn't single, he just chose to be serious with Type before that, he fell for Type before that.

Leo is uncomfortable; this doesn't sit right for some reason, Type is actually important to Fiat and Fiat is not paying attention to him. Leo tells Fiat, Type is dating, Fiat brushes it off and says he still wants Type. Leo explodes, and Fiat ends up broken-hearted and hurt that Leo would kick him out. More shockingly, he unveils that the reason he's desperate to be with someone like Type is because; Surprise! Leo, and yet Leo isn't thinking about how he feels. Shocker. Leo returns and apologises and takes Fiat inside but now we the audience are confused? What does he mean by that? Why is liking Type for Leo? Why is Fiat so problematic, and why is Leo and Fiat's dynamic confusing? 

Did you see the similarities?  Let's look at it differently. Let's give roles to Fiat and Leo as TT, who is more like Tharn in the Pufai arc and who is more like Type? 

On the Surface and Personalities.

Obviously, the first thing you look at is the designated Uke and Seme role. Who in this story on the surface so far is longing for the other, and who is acting like what they have doesn't matter and is problematic. Well, Leo is acting more like Tharn then. He's longing secretly and hurt because of Fiat's actions with other people, just as Tharn did with Pufai and Type, he's the one showing jealousy and fear of being left. He's not okay with the shift in their unofficial relationship and seems like he wants more. Like Tharn he looks perfect, protective and romantic than Fiat. He seems devoted and loyal like Tharn is to Type. And he's the seme just like Tharn. So he must be mirroring Tharn, right?

And we have Fiat like Type his eyes wander, he's the one who's treating what he and Leo have as nothing, he's problematic and loud and stubborn and childish just like Type was in the arc. Type shouted, was rude, and even punched Tharn remember? He proceeded to keep being nonchalant towards Tharn's feelings because Tharn wasn't the one for him. After all, he was homophobic. Fiat is not homophobic, but he's spoilt, childish and selfish, he's an attention seeker, so he acts like a brat to get attention. When he has the attention, he takes people for granted, and he does things that are problematic for example he doesn't think it's wrong to stop wanting Type after finding out he's not single. Fiat is like because I want it I must have it. And Type was similar; not the same way (trying to ruin a relationship) but he was selfish and cruel to Tharn because he refused to acknowledge what Tharn wanted, he could tell it was killing Tharn, but he proceeded because it didn't mean anything or he was trying to convince himself that it didn't mean anything, he was just as bratty and childish as Fiat was when questioned about his choices. So yeh he's mirroring Type in this situation right? 

Except still looking on the surface, mind you; let's look at the mindsets and psychological past of the characters and see who mirrors who here. Bare with me, let me explain. 

On Background and Mindsets

Let's look at the background: Tharn is used to getting what he wants, that's why when Type continues to reject him he keeps holding out hope it'll happen, he also is rich, spoilt and manipulative but in a more sneaky way. He knows how to guilt Type into feeling sorry, and he convinced Type to continue what they have. When he realises things aren't going his way, he mopes, rejects it but then goes back to Type until he can't take it anymore. I also want you to notice who ends up crying and heartbroken in this arc it's Tharn this is important for later. 

 Tharn also felt unlovable and always was seeking for someone to pay attention and stay by his side; he's the middle child who ended up having to grow quicker and be a tiny bit neglected, he also had his heartbroken from the previous relationships; he's always felt left behind, neglected and not taken seriously. Who does that remind you of? Fiat. 

Although Tharn's family loved him, so he still ended up okay. Fiat is a worse version of Tharn; in this case, he was just as neglected but even graver because his parents paid no attention to him and only gave him material things (hence why he's spoilt and selfish), he realised that acting like a baby got him attention and what he wants;  that's why he's manipulative. He also felt not taken seriously by people, like people didn't get him. Even the person he cared about; Leo, who he was confident was someone he can rely on also made him feel neglected (because he kept ignoring his feelings). Fiat knows how to act like a baby to get Leo to bend to his will, but just like Tharn with Type in the Pufai arc, he doesn't think it's because Leo is 100 % devoted to him. It's also Fiat who ends up crying broken-hearted during this episode. I'll explain later. 

Type is different, his mindset is shaped by his past. He doesn't think what he and Tharn could be is right, he's homophobic and determined to keep what they have unofficial. He doesn't want to cross the line, he keeps on pushing away Tharn's feelings refusing to deal with it seriously, and this is why he gets fixated on Pufai. He's desperate to avoid what he feels for Tharn, and he's desperate to keep his walls up no matter what because he's afraid to be hurt. It makes sense. As much as people don't yet see this, same as Leo. Type is protective of his heart, himself and his environment, Leo is the same, he doesn't think crossing the line with Fiat is right not because he's homophobic but because he thinks Fiat's feelings are fickle and not real; he keeps refusing to see that Fiat wants him because he's afraid showing Fiat feelings will make him bored and move on, and ruin their friendship. He's desperate to keep pretence that what they have is friendship, is defensive when people joke about him and Fiat and is repeatedly ignoring anytime Fiat tries to make a move. It's frustrating, and each time he does it, Fiat gets hurt even more. 

This is why he's on the stairs crying wondering if Leo ever actually thinks about how he feels in their situation. It's the same way Tharn thought about Type. Leo is determined to not seem vulnerable, in love or weak, he even pretends his selfless actions to Fiat has no meaning even when Fiat prods him for answers he refuses to tell him why he does all the things he does, he claims its because he wants to, he has to because Fiat is crazy, but we all know it's because of three simple words, he loves him. And Fiat has guessed and questioned that just as Tharn assumed that Type also loved him but wasn't ready to show it. Tharn stayed loyal and patient with Type until Pufai entered the picture. Fiat is the same, when Type shows up (a difference because Pufai was for Type) he's desperate to change his loyalties so he can stay by Leo's side without hurting and giving up, on them. 

Basically, Fiat is doing what Tharn would have done if Type had not returned to him during Pufai arc, he would have started looking for someone else to take the pain away from not having Type. And Leo is like Type when Type realises he can't keep things unofficial because it means; others like Pufai could come to Tharn, he doesn't like that, and he proceeds to cross the line with Tharn. Leo is becoming that way, the way Fiat wants Type is starting to no longer be a meaningless thing he can avoid, he's beginning to realise that their unofficial status, he so desperately tried to keep has no hold or control over this situation, he's still learning, but soon he'll realise being vulnerable is the only way to remedy this, but he might be too late. 

So on the surface, you see how these two mirror each other? Let's look at this even more further. The unofficial list that Type sent Tharn is the same as the determination to keep things unofficial Leo has with Fiat. It's more unspoken, but it's the same rules without the sleeping together aspect. Leo is okay with Fiat being with others as long as they're not interfering with what he and Fiat have.  Leo is okay with them cuddling and being close and doing things for each other but never crossing that line.  Leo has the role as Fiat's person to everyone, he's the protector, most intimate relationship and the designated 'boyfriend' role to Fiat as long as no one tries and label it. Leo is okay with certain rules and understandings about what he and Fiat have, like rules, and as long as Fiat and others don't try and label it, it shouldn't be an issue. It's the same way as Type. 

Duality and Differences of Opinion

The difference here is Leo isn't chasing after someone else, he's not the one with the Pufai. Fiat is. Leo isn't being cruel to Fiat by proceeding to find someone else the way Type does, but he's still doing the same thing Type does to Tharn with or without another person. He's still invalidating Fiat's feelings, he's still preventing the line from being crossed no matter how much Fiat tries, he's still defensive when it comes to others seeing them as more than friends, and he's adamant that what Fiat is saying he's feeling is not right, it's just Fiat being Fiat, and it's not going to last, it's the same way Type thought about Tharn's feelings.  

Fiat may be the one who seems like the one invalidating the relationship, but it's actually more complicated than that. In Leo's perspective, he's Tharn; he's the one with the unrequited love, the one with the person who doesn't take his feelings seriously, who sleeps with others cruelly without taking account his feelings, the person he's had to stay loyal and patient with because he's devoted to him entirely.

 In Fiat's perspective? He's Tharn, he's the one who's been trying years to cross that line with Leo, he's the one who has been waiting for Leo to take him seriously, he's the one who has to try and search for others to ensure that he's distracted by his rejected feelings so he can keep being by Leo's side, he's desperately searching for someone else like Leo, so he doesn't keep hurting secretly by his invalidation of what they have. For Fiat, he's the one who's loyal, patient and devoted to Leo ultimately; everyone can see it, he even lets Leo know how he feels.  But also it's the reason why he keeps on acting spoilt and bratty; it's all for Leo's attention and love. It's the only time Leo shows him affection. Everything Fiat does is for Leo. He wasn't being dramatic when he said it in this episode. So why is he falling for Type then?  What's the deal with Type then? 

The importance of Pufai

To understand why Fiat wants Type. You have to again return back to the surface similarities he has with Type in season 1. You have to look at why Type decided to give a relationship with Pufai a go despite knowing he had Tharn. The reasons why Type wanted Pufai:

She was right for him

She was his type 

She intrigued him

He liked talking and being with her

Let's break this down and compare it to Fiat then:

The right person for him

Type thought Pufai was right for him. One she was a girl, and he was finally relieved he found a girl he liked, someone who was just as into him, as confident and flirty as him, and he wanted that about her. She also showed him she had similarities to him, she mentioned the type of food he liked and found they had a lot in common. She was an ideal girlfriend. For Fiat, Type is not right for him because of the same reasons, but because he found someone who was just like him. Remember Fiat reminded Type of a younger him; Type was inspirational to Fiat, he also was someone who paid attention to him and showed him care and nurture when others didn't understand him. Type showed him the same kind of patience Leo showed him, but he also called Fiat out, and Fiat liked that. He could tell he and Type were similar, and it made him feel safe and happy when he was with Type. Type also was the person who was helping him deal with the fact that he couldn't play basketball, he was involved in the process of healing and assisting Fiat to become stronger to return to his passion. Fiat found that as another reason for why Type was right for him. Finally, there was someone else other than Leo who made him feel comfortable, happy and was determined to help him get to his passion. Type replaced the empty space Leo left when he went to Italy. Fiat embraced that and became obsessed with it. 

His Type 

In case it's not apparent his type are people who aren't afraid to call him out. People who make him calm down. Remember Fiat liked that Leo was able to be someone who helped deal with his emotional crisis, someone who was able to keep him in control, he trusted and appreciated who he was with Leo. Type reminded him of Leo, just like Leo paid attention but also made sure to scold Fiat whenever he took things too far;Type did the same, Type managed to tame Fiat by just speaking to him and calling him out on why he was throwing tantrums. Type is also good looking, and mature (same as Leo) and calm. We know he isn't generally like this, but this is how he appears in front of Fiat, and Fiat likes that about him. Plus Type is a quest. Or started off as a quest. Type had his walls up remember to Fiat? He was confused why he wasn't giving in to his manipulations, or his charm like others will. The other person who had walls up and didn't give into Fiat's charm was you guessed it, Leo. So Type is a similar copy of Leo to Fiat, someone who makes him excited, giddy, but also someone he can't win over easily. The idea of the chase also ensures that for the first time, he won't be easily bored, he'd always be distracted if he chooses to chase after Type. 

Intrigue and Needs

It's that chase that kept Fiat intrigued and wanting to know more about Type. For Type Pufai fascinated him because she did not shy away from him, she flirted and was direct to him. Also, she intrigued him because at that moment, he was dealing with intense internalised homophobia and confused feelings. He was starting to be scared of falling for Tharn, for the way he was feeling for Tharn and how it was beginning to consume him despite his need to try and ignore it. 

Fiat is the same. Fiat was falling for a futile relationship. Not falling; was already addicted and attached to the idea of a hopeless relationship that was hurting him. He was realising how much it was becoming a problem for him to be without Leo; it was killing him, and if you watch episode 2 again you can see how much Leo's absence was breaking him. He was realising he had to do something otherwise he would be forever stuck in this cycle. It would ruin the friendship he had with Leo. 

Type was intriguing because he was the first person in so long that Fiat wasn't bored of, he was the first person that made Fiat want to do something, to forget Leo, the first person who distracted Fiat from his ache. So Type was like a cure he needed desperately, he needed someone to keep him in denial, to make him forget about the issue with the unofficiality with Leo, to make him stop resenting the fact that his feelings were invalidated. Type did that. It doesn't matter if Type has a boyfriend (the more the chase becomes intriguing for him) because Type is the first person he feels this way for. It has to be Type he chases after, it has to be Type who he ends up with because if not; his choice is to stay stuck in this painful cycle with Leo. 

That's why he tells Leo it has to be Type, that's why he breaks down when Leo tells him it can't be because he was now sure he wasn't going to be able to keep being quiet and patient about what he had with Leo. The same realisation Tharn had in the bar with Type and Pufai, it had to end. But for both Fiat and Tharn, the idea of losing their person was a damaging thought, they didn't know how to cope with. Hence Fiat was desperate to find a solution for him; it was Type.

Talking and Being with him

That's another thing Type found out with Pufai, he liked replying to her texts, their flirtations made him smile, and he enjoyed speaking to her despite being in love with Tharn. Fiat is the same, he smiles just at the thought of seeing or talking to Type. He likes learning, and seeing that Type is a good person. He enjoyed observing Type, and how he acted, but also he liked the conversations they had, their discussions were deep even if people don't want to acknowledge it. Type's first conversation with Fiat was about how he understood what he was feeling and how he knew why he was acting the way he was. It was vulnerable, it was inspiring it was deep, not surface level. And Type also opened up to Fiat this episode, about his stress, burdens and others. 

Their conversations are actually interesting and important, and they both help the other feel better. It's why Type is okay with showing Fiat attention (despite how he acted when he was angry and stressed) he sees Fiat like a little brother, a version of his old self. And Fiat sees Type as a role model, someone to look up to and learn from and be with. That's why he liked talking to him. But Leo is the person who Fiat loves the most to discuss with, to be with and to stay with. But when Leo can't be an option, Type is a perfect replacement, distraction and copy. 

How Pufai affected TT

Tharn: He broke down and tried to accept it, but he was broken-hearted. Similar to Fiat breaking down at the Futility of what he and Leo have. He realised like Tharn there was no way to get over Leo if it's not Type. Hence his determination that it must be Type even if he has kids or a boyfriend.

Type: She made him think others could do the same to Tharn. If he got with her; Tharn would be free to sleep around and find someone else. This is why he runs back; meanwhile, Leo is also finding this out slowly the more Fiat falls for Type. If he doesn't show ownership of Fiat, then he's free to do what he wants.  Leo knows that, and he's afraid because he also can see that Type isn't like others to Fiat, Type is a replacement for him. That's what he was angrier about; not Fiat saying Type had a boyfriend, but he'll still chase him, he was mad because this was more serious for Fiat than he wanted it to be.

 That's the difference with TT and LF. Type realised that Tharn was the one once he couldn't sleep with Pufai, once he realised what he wanted was Tharn. Leo knows what he wants but refuses to let himself be vulnerable, refuses to try and cross that line and keeps finding excuses why he and Fiat are friends. Fiat is like Tharn; patient, sulky and devoted, but he's also different to Tharn because he had a different environment with family. Fiat is what Tharn did before Type if you remember:  he slept around with people desperate to find the one and be loved. Unfortunately, he got bored, left and hurt each time he returned back to his situation and the permanent realisation that Leo was his person. It was futile he wouldn't be able to get over him. Tharn at that moment had given up on the idea of finding love, so seeing Type, he was determined to make it real no matter what. Same as Fiat just not the same way, for Leo he was determined to make it stay the same no matter what so he was determined to find someone else no matter what.  If Fiat didn't try to find a way to move on from Leo, he would end up being Long in season 1, he'd be angry and upset and manipulative and determined to ruin whoever tried to be with Leo. But the reason why he tried to move on was that he didn't want to be resentful of Leo, he tried to find a way to stay by his side without breaking each time he did. That's why he's determined it must be Type. 

Oh wow. The way I'm obsessed with these two couples dynamic, the way I live every Friday to see more, to uncover more, to know more about them. I live for this trope. I keep repeating it. But it makes me appreciate Mame's genius so much, I know it's forbidden to praise her as a writer. Still, when it comes to TT, Mame is a gift, she's incredible. She ensures that her characters are written with so much depth, and intrigue, their love is so deep it transcends everything, it makes everyone lose their minds, it makes everyone want to keep on watching and obsessing over the stories when she reveals the truth. Fiat and Leo are her reveals and plot twist this season. They're incredible. I hope people see why I love this show so much. I hope it stays this way until the end. 

More Tharn Type Analysis: Masterpost Check under Tharn and Type Here

[cdrmiller]

Sometime after X

********************

“I will kill you.” 

“I’d like to see you try.” Nico smiled, his large hand crawling up one of the legs that rested in his lap. 

“I will find a way to hurt you.” Marie wrapped the fingers of both her hands around his wrist, muscles in her arms straining as she tried to stop its ascent up her thigh. “Nic if you tickle me one more time I swear…” 

Nico’s only response was one eyebrow cocked above his smirk. 

“Nosexforaweek!” The words flew out of her mouth so quickly they became one. 

His fingers froze just as they had started to squeeze, a look of disgust flashing across his features. “That’s not playing fair.” 

“Like it was really fair before?” She laughed, falling back against the couch’s arm. His hand flattened against her thigh, rubbing small circles against the fabric of her fatigues. The observation deck was mostly empty at this time and Marie was enjoying the feel of his hands and the quiet. 

That quiet was interrupted by an exaggerated, heavy sigh and the thump of a heavy body dropping onto the couch opposite them. “Kill me.” 

“If I could kill any of you, Nico would probably be dead by now. Definitely Sinclair. Not Scooter. Not Maddox either...” 

“Wow Ajax lives and I die.” Nico shook his head in mock disappointment. “I would be offended if I wasn’t already used to this abuse.” 

Marie smiled, lifting herself into a sitting position and looped her arm through his. “I said probably, babe. There’s still a chance for you. What’s wrong Mase. No wait, don’t tell me. You need to get laid.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know Rie.” 

“I know how your kind are, ” she continued, waggling a finger between Nico and Mason. “Firsthand. In - fucking - satiable.” 

“Okay. I get it.” 

“I have a sore jaw so much I’ll probably develop TMJ…” 

“Marie.” 

She smiled with Nico’s chuckle. “Okay. I’m sorry I have to be serious all day so I had to get it all out before I go back up to the deck. What’s wrong, really?” 

“I need to get laid.” He smiled when they both laughed, until it dropped with another sigh. “And also Ajax.” Mason rose on his elbows to look at Marie seriously. “How do you do it?” 

“Do what?” 

“Deal with him.” 

“Okay, you did not just say that to me.” She huffed out a humorless breath and slowly untangled herself from Nico, scooting to the edge of the couch. She blinked slowly, and when they opened to look directly into the green ones across from her, they were on fire. 

“I don’t deal with him, Mason.” She was glad her tone made him slightly draw back. It was the best she could hope for since punching him was out of the question. “That’s your problem, right there. You think you have to deal with him. Instead of, oh I don’t know, maybe trying to find a way to connect with him.” 

“It’s not that easy Marie.” 

“Bullshit. Let me ask you a question Mase. Have you ever tried?” 

“He makes that impossible.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“I’m sure I did when he first arrived at the station.” 

“Also bullshit. You saw him as nothing more than a replacement. And that’s as far as you ever got.” 

Mason sat up at that, looking at Nico. She understood his surprise, even she was still getting used to her boyfriend actually telling her things from his past. “He came at us right out of the gate Marie. You don’t understand.” 

“So a wounded animal gets dropped into an entirely different pack, you think it’s going to be happy-go-lucky or do you think it’s going to try to survive?”

“The pack wasn’t exactly welcoming, either.” Nico gave a sorry-but-true shrug of his broad shoulders. 

“People change Mase. They grow.” Her voice was getting shaky with the emotion in her throat and she hated that, but loved the hand that was rubbing her back. “I’m so sick of people not even giving him a fucking chance. You gave him an impossible handicap before he even started the race and now you wonder why he’s never catching up. It’s not fair to him.” 

Mason’s eyes were on the floor but she knew him well enough to recognize the stubborn set of his jaw, so she continued. 

“That’s another problem.” She poked a finger into his knee, the closest body part she could reach. “You expect everyone else to come to your level, yet you don’t even throw out a ladder. A rope. Something. It’s not just with Maddox. I’ve seen it with you and Nic too. You might be surprised what you get back if you give a little.” 

She sighed, her anger fading at the hurt look in his eyes when they finally met hers and she flattened her hand onto the knee he had been poking. 

“I don’t know if you remember but, when we were kids, there was this new boy that came to our school. He was weird and handicapped, and immediately bullied. In the hallway someone had just shoved into him, knocking him down and you were the one to help him up and befriend him. And of course once everyone saw he was your friend, Mr. Popularity, they treated him like royalty. That’s the guy I fell in love with.” She reached behind her to pat Nico’s leg, feeling his glower at her back. “That’s the guy they need.” She knew she didn’t have to specify who they were. 

“Do you remember that time you asked me ‘why Ajax’ and then I got called into Captain Malin’s office and never got to answer?” 

Mason nodded and Marie sat back, pulling Nico’s arm around her and absentmindedly entwining her fingers through his. 

“Nic introduced us, and the very first thing Maddox said to me was a question. He asked me what my favorite feeling in the world is.” She laughed softly at the memory. “In the beginning I thought, what kind of person asks that instead of even a ‘hello’? Then I realized its someone who cares about the soul more than the surface. It’s funny, or fate, that the very answer I gave him, he makes me feel.” 

Mason’s tone was still hard, but the stubborn tension was gone. “What’s the feeling?” 

“Unconditional love. Being able to tell someone anything, make mistakes, be as awful as humans sometimes are, but no matter what, you know that person is still going to love one hundred percent of you. That’s rare, and that’s my favorite feeling.” 

“Look.” Marie’s tone was matter of fact, crossing one leg over the other. “ He can be an asshole. We all can. But everyone has a reason. Find his reason, acknowledge it, and knowing him, that’s probably all he wants. And if you really try and he’s still one hundred percent an unforgiving asshole, I’ll rip him a new one too. You’re not the only one that has to give a little.” 

“I have to get back to work.” Marie stood, effectively ending her rant, and rubbed at her temples. “Imagine running an entire starship being easier than dealing with Phoenix boys.” 

“Men.” Nico corrected her, and she leaned down to press her lips against his, a hand against his cheek and an I love you whispered against his mouth before standing. 

She bent to peck a kiss to Mason’s cheek. “Talk to him. He’s worth the effort.” 

“I have tried talking to him.” 

She stopped at the doorway, turning back to look at him sadly. “You haven’t talked to him, Mason. You’ve talked to his ghost.”

[darwindrawz]

GTFO Team 729 AU fic (no one should read this except Sky)

@skyllion-uwu here it is, sorry it took me so long to figure out how to get it here lmao

Some notes:

- if you are not Sky, please save me the embarrassment and don’t read this. If you do read this, don’t make fun of me for it.

-Tore is Italian-American and has extreme anger issues, Bright is a stuck up ex-spy German asshole, and they both hate each other (at least at first).

-The team is currently trying to find a way to a lab on the upper levels to retrieve a dna sample, but Tore insisted on navigating even though Bright is the scout and he got them lost. Bright then took the map files from him to prevent any further confusion, and they are still fighting about this.

Warnings: lots of swearing, some light angst, Flea being too pure for this world (or the gtfo world I guess)

——————————————————>>

The crackling of the team’s campfire nearly drowned out the screams of sleepers behind a nearby wall, but not enough to put Flea at ease.

He kept one hand on his gun, careful not to let the others see, lest they find out he wasn’t as tough as they all thought he was.

“I’m tellin you, we’ve been headin the wrong way for days now! We’ll never find our way outta this shithole if you don’t fuckin give me the map files!”

He rolled his eyes under his helmet. Tore and Bright were arguing again. Not that it was anything unusual; they were all under stress, and it didn’t help the two’s ongoing feud to be trapped in the same seemingly endless hallway for four days.

“Oh of course, because you know what you’re doing more than any of us do.” Bright snapped back. “Get a grip. You’re acting as immature as that mangy little kid.”

Flea perked up at that. Where was the kid, anyway? He had seen them while they were setting up camp, but now that they had a fire going it seemed that he had skulked off somewhere in the darkness surrounding them.

He stood up, eliciting a glance from Tore and Bright but no questions. “I’m gonna go find...” he trailed off as he realized neither of them were listening, his deep voice muffled by the sound of them chewing each other’s heads off.

“My fuckin rank is “tech”, dumbass! What do you think that means? THAT I’M IN CHARGE OF THE TECH.”

“Ach, verpiss dich!”

“CHE NE DICI DI FOTTERTI?!”

Flea sighed, picking up his gun and stepping into the shadows. Idiots. And he was supposed to be the big strong dumb one.

It wasn’t long before he heard Teeth’s raspy breathing coming from somewhere up ahead in the dingy hallway. Knowing better than to call out to him, he pulled out his flashlight and clicked it on and off several times, shining it at the opposite wall.

There was a pause, and then Flea heard the sound of hurried footsteps coming toward him. Just in case, he put a finger on the trigger of his combat rifle.

“Flea?”

Flea felt his shoulders relax as the kid came into view, holding his helmet in one hand and a nutrient block in the other.

“Hey kid. What’re you doing out here? It’s not safe.” He asked, lowering his flashlight as he realized it was shining directly in Teeth’s eyes.

He barked a gravelly laugh, his sharp teeth exposed. “This whole PLACE isn’t safe. Here is just extra not safe.”

Flea chuckled, shaking his head. Weird kid.

“What are you doing out here?” Teeth asked, spreading his scrawny arms to gesture at the dark hallway.

Flea sighed. “Tore and Bright are-“

“Fighting again.” Teeth groaned dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. What else is new.”

Flea smiled. “Yeah.”

“Hey!” Teeth exclaimed suddenly, making Flea jump. “You wanna see something cool?”

“Uh... sure? Whoah!” He yelled as Teeth grabbed his arm, dragging him into the dark shadow he had come out of at as fast of a pace as he was able.

Well, technically Teeth wasn’t dragging him. Flea was letting himself be dragged by someone half his height, mostly out of confusion and amusement.

Flea couldn’t tell where they were going, but before long he knew they had walked further than he and the others had scouted. The hall looked unfamiliar here, and the screams of sleepers gradually became distant and hushed.

Suddenly, after what Flea judged to be around 20 minutes of stumbling through the dark, Teeth stopped, bouncing on his toes as he grinned up at Flea. “TADA!”

Flea frowned confusedly, looking around. As far as he could see, there was nothing but a dark, empty, grey room with a large pile of old rubble in the center where the ceiling had caved in.

Even if there was nothing, at least there weren’t any sleepers.

He grunted as he felt Teeth’s sharp elbow dig into his side. “No, you big dummy! Up there!”

Flea followed his friend’s gaze, squinting against the light.

Wait, light?

“How...” he murmured in awe and confusion.

Teeth beamed. “Isn’t it great? And it’s MINE, cause I found it. If you climb on top, you can even see the sky-shiners!”

Flea looked down, confused. “Sky-shiners..?”

Teeth nodded vigorously. “Yeah! C’mere, lemme show you!” He said, grabbing Flea’s arm again and “dragging” him up the pile of concrete chunks and metal.

He let go of him once they had reached the summit of the tiny mountain, practically shaking with excitement as he pointed at the hole in the ceiling where the shaft of pale light streamed in. “There! Look!”

Flea took off his helmet, breathing in the fresh air that had somehow, miraculously, found its way to them. He looked up, his mouth falling open in awe as he looked from Teeth to the night sky above them. They must have gotten so lost they somehow ended up in one of the upper levels.

Which explained a lot. Tore had the sense of direction of a blind cow.

“That’s somethin else.” He smiled, feeling peace for the first time in days uncountable as he observed what Teeth had called the “sky-shiners”.

Stars. He means the stars. Poor kid probably either has never seen em, or doesn’t remember what they are.

He glanced at Teeth, who was squinting at the light with a look of pure, unfettered joy on his face. “How’d you find this place?”

Teeth’s face fell and he hesitated, shrugging. “I dunno.” He mumbled. “Just sorta bumped into it I guess.”

Flea raised an eyebrow. “You just happened to bump into a room half a mile away from camp?”

Teeth squirmed under his gaze, picking at the scar that ran across his face without giving an answer.

“Teeth...”

“Alright fine!” Teeth gave in, sighing as he plopped down on the rubble pile cross-legged. “I was tryin to run away, but I got distracted.”

Flea’s eyes widened in surprise. “Run away? To where???”

Teeth shot him a look. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead, ok?!”

Flea stared at him, half in shock and half in sadness that Teeth would just run off like that. They were friends, so he had thought.

He sat down next to him, thinking for a moment before speaking again.

“Why’d you wanna run away?”

Teeth glanced at him. “You wouldn’t get it.”

He scoffed, smiling gently. “Try me, kid.”

His friend sighed, planting his chin in his hands as he stared at the sliver of navy sky above them. “I... I guess I just got sick of it all. Y’know, Tore and Bright fighting, non being able to spit without hitting a sleeper, bein scared all the time... d’you not get tired of all that shit sometimes?”

Flea paused, thinking about his answer. “I do... but we have no other choice. We do what the Warden says, or we’re not around to receive it’s orders. And... even if Tore and Bright are a bit much sometimes, they’re all we’ve got, y’know? You’re all I’ve got. I can’t just give that up.” He finished, smiling passively at the sky.

Teeth was silent for a while, before he burst out laughing. “Wow.” He said in between cackles. “You’re a big cheesy idiot, y’know that?”

Flea laughed. “Maybe. That’s just my opinion though.”

They both went silent for a while, before finally Teeth spoke again in a quieter voice.

“Flea.”

“Mm.”

“D’you think I’m a mutt?”

Flea looked at him confusedly. “What?”

Teeth shrugged, chewing at one of his fingernails. “I dunno. Bright and Tore talk ugly. They say I’m some kinda animal.“

He raised his eyebrows, making a mental note to pound the others into a bloody paste later. “That’s just stupid.”

“Nah. Maybe they’re right. I only got one brain cell, according to Bright. Whatever that means.” He said, flopping down onto his back with a sigh.

“Kid, that’s not true. You might be a little... charismatic at times, but you’re not a mutt. Tore and Bright are the ones with only one brain cell. Whatever that means.” Flea added, smiling at him.

Teeth sniffed. “You’re pretty cool, Flea. Maybe I’ll stick around a while, since you’re not goin nowhere. Besides, how am I gonna prove I got uh... a lotta brain cells if I never see the others again?”

He laughed. “That’s a good point. Maybe you’ll even teach them a thing or two.”

“Yeah.” Teeth grinned.

“Do you want to go back to camp now?”

“Depends. D’you think they’ll be done fighting?” He shrugged.

Flea laughed. “Heh. Never. Maybe they’ll have their panties in less of a twist, though.”

Teeth stood up, dusting off his hands. “Well c’mon then. I got places to be, the team’s not gonna annoy itself.” He joked, looking at an imaginary watch on his wrist and cackling.

He smiled, standing and putting his helmet back on. “Lead the way.”

As his friend took off enthusiastically down the dark hallway, Flea turned and savored one last glimpse of the moon. He missed it; being on the surface. The fresh air, and trees, and no constant petrifying fear of whether or not you’d make it to the next day.

But as he followed Teeth down the twisting concrete passage, and heard the sound of Tore and Bright’s bickering accented voices begin to grow louder, he felt the longing and sadness drain from his weary body. They were his family now, and it was his job to keep them together. And if he was going to die in a dark, filthy, sleeper-ridden shithole, he was going to do it fighting for them.

“Where were you?” Bright asked impatiently, looking up as he and Teeth stepped back into the comforting circle of warmth around their fire.

Teeth snorted. “That’s real sweet, Bright. I didn’t expect you to notice we were gone.”

Flea shot him a silencing look. “We found a way forward.”

Teeth frowned. “We did?”

“Are you serious?” Bright asked, raising his eyebrows.

He nodded. “Teeth found a way to the upper levels. Just where we need to go to get to the labs.”

Bright turned to Teeth skeptically, looking him up and down. “This mutt found a way up that we couldn’t find in four days of scouting?”

“He’s not a mutt.” Flea growled, causing Bright to look back away with a frightened expression on his face. “And yes. Now are you two gonna sit here squawking like an old married couple, or are we going to get out of here?”

Bright glanced at Tores, who flipped him off briefly before nodding at Flea. “Sounds good to me. Let’s go.”

He looked down at his friend, who was shifting uncomfortably under the multitude of eyes locked on him. Flea patted him on the back, smiling even if Teeth couldn’t see it through his helmet. “You’re in charge, kid. Lead the way.”

Teeth grinned, puffing out his chest slightly as the power visibly went straight to his head. “Follow me, assholes!”

Bright and Tore reluctantly followed him as he took off sprinting down the hallway, nearly tripping several times in his excitement. Flea brought up the rear, stomping out their fire as he followed after them, smiling.

Back on the move again, and no sleepers chasing them this time. It looked like everything was going to be ok.

For now, at least.

[badger-writes]

Star Wars OC Ship Week 2021 - for light and love

uhhhh Hello! 😄

This fic and all its chapters was written for Star Wars OC Ship Week's inaugural year 2021, an event spotlighting OCxEC romances & platonic friendships helmed by @findswoman! It's also the first time I've personally ever taken part in an event week so I hope I do a good job! 😅

Whether you're a High Republic fan or you just want to see the big lizard get smooches, hope you enjoy! Leave comments and kudos if you do! Looking forward to sharing all I've written over the course of the week w/ y'all!

1 - How They Met

It all started, as these things do, in a medical bay.

Kelto Lem, a Jedi healer, had been busying himself with organizing the implements and instruments of the first aid wing in the Halls of Healing. This was light work, and peaceful, which suited him fine. Rarely, if ever, were there emergencies in the Jedi Temple of such scope and scale as to totally overwhelm the medical ward, and to the best of his recollection they had never occurred in the early morning, when dew was still settled on the trees and grasses of Monument Park. This made it an optimal time for preparing the ward for most of the day’s eventualities well ahead of schedule; this making good sense to him, he settled into this habit as a padawan and had never quite given it up. In time, it became almost a meditative practice for him - refilling stores of fresh bandages, taking stock of available pharmaceuticals and herbal remedies, refilling the kolto canisters…

And so it was in the middle of this daily routine that he was interrupted by the door sliding open. He turned to look and nearly dropped the medical scanner he was holding - for two reasons.

 The first: his guest was built like a permacrete E-Web bunker. Broad and tall, with an implied physicality that not even Jedi robes concealed, the visitor - a Trandoshan - strode into the ward with an aura of stern command, stolid orange eyes locking upon Kelto almost immediately. His emerald scales shone with a slight luster as he walked, the claws of his toes clicking against the tile floor, until he came to the edge of the biobed in the center of the room less than a foot away from the resident healer. The sheer weight of his presence made Kelto feel small by comparison - he, a shorter pale-scaled Rodian with stripes of deep blue running along his jaw and neck, who wore a satchel of first aid essentials on his hip everywhere he went and tied back his spines in a long, narrow topknot ending in a spiky pom where they escaped the hold of the strip of linen which restrained them.

The second: he was covered in scorchmarks.

“Star’s End,” Kelto said, when he could finally get his (dry, dry) mouth to work correctly. “What in the world happened to you?”

The Trandoshan rumbled, mouth pulling to one side in chagrin. It was a deep, bassy sound, and it landed straight in the pit of Kelto’s stomach. 

“A… mishap with the duelling droid,” he grunted, in the sibilant speech of his species. “I was not focused. Lost sight of my present. It seized the opportunity, as you can see,” he added, gesturing to his scorched robes.

“You were training? This early? Chee,” Kelto said, shaking his head. “And I thought my morning habits were odd - jump up on the bench, here, I’ll patch you up.”

He turned away to fetch some burn relief supplies, piling them on a tray. When he turned back, the Trandoshan had sat upon the biobed - and his tunic was resting carefully folded on the bench beside him.

“Ahghg,” he said, and everything on his tray rattled as he short-circuited.

The Trandoshan gave him an odd look. “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. I’m fine,” Kelto stammered. “Let me just, uhhh… set this down here.”

He let the tray’s repulsorlifts catch it in midair, so that it would hover at his side. Then he took a ball of fluff and daubed it in a squat open vial of kolto, letting the excess drip off and trying not to think too much about the barrel-chested masterpiece of physicality sitting just within arm’s reach to his right.

“So, how did this happen, Master …?”

“Knight, actually,” the patient replied. “Not master - not yet, anyway. And as I said, I was training.”

“Only a Knight? ...Well, I guess if you were a Master, you wouldn’t have ended up - err, you know what, forget I said that.”

With kolto-ball and medigauze dressings in hand, Kelto turned to his patient and gave him a quick once-over. There were injuries in areas roughly corresponding to the placement of scorch marks on the surface of his clothes, but fortunately, most of them didn’t seem too severe - the robes acting as a layer of insulation against the worst of it. Quite intentionally, he started on the outside limbs, an attempt to spare himself another hot flush provoked by looking straight on at his patient’s torso. Sskeer didn’t even flinch when he touched the wet medical fluff against an abrasion on the side of his arm.

“I train on one or two levels above the normal training setting,” the Trandoshan offered, by way of explanation. “Thus, my injuries.”

“Ah,” Kelto murmured, mostly to himself. “A masochist.”

Sskeer grunted reproachfully. “The training settings are designed to hold back. There will be no such reprieve in the field. Therefore, I train the body to anticipate the presence of harm - to become numb to its threat, and then, to surpass it.”

“So you’re fine with the pain?”

“Pain can be ignored. And my people have thick hides. I endure.” 

“Well, I’m no duelist, but in my estimation you could probably stand to bump back down a few levels,” Kelto observed, winding a bandage around his forearm. “At least until you can defeat one of those saber-happy droids.”

Sskeer hrrred. The sound landed in Kelto’s gut again. “Bold words from a nurse.”

“Bold enough to be a Knight, like you.” The Rodian retorted, flashing him a smirk - and turning away immediately when the sensation of being perceived became too much. (His cheeks were so warm - was it supposed to be so hot in here?) Falling silent, he took one of Sskeer’s wide, thick-fingered hands in his own, turning it to inspect the green welt on its back.

“I did not realize you had risen to Knighthood as well,” the Trandoshan offered as Kelto dressed his injury. “If I offended, it was not by intent.”

“It’s fine. I’d rather people forget, honestly. Most people, they see a Jedi and think, ‘wow! Laser swords! Magic powers!’ - but that’s… never really where I felt comfortable.”

“You feel your place is here.”

“It’s where my talents lie, I think. I’ve sort of been drawn to the healing halls ever since I left the creche. And… well, to be honest, I like being able to help people doing this. So… I guess it’s true what they say, about the Force having a path for us all, and all that.”

Sskeer hummed. “That is good.”

“Yeah, and I remember when I was little, Master Rancisis came by the ward and said a-- I’m sorry, am I rambling? I’m rambling, aren’t I? I’ll just shut up and tend you--”

“It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I just dropped basically my whole backstory on you--”

“It’s fine,” Sskeer said - firmly, but patiently. “Really.”

And Kelto believed him.

It’s funny, he thought suddenly, how quickly you can get comfortable with someone else. A moment ago he could barely stand to meet Sskeer’s gaze - now, though, he could look him straight in the eye without feeling like wilting. Sskeer had surprisingly deep eyes, he noticed, for how small they were. Deep and dark. Like he could dip into his pupils and fall forever --

Oh gosh, there’s a huge green mark right on his temple. How did he miss that??

Kelto dunked a fresh puffball in the healing fluid and held it up to the Trandoshan’s brow, cradling it in his long, sucker-tipped fingers. This time, when it touched his skin, Sskeer flinched and barely suppressed a hiss. On instinct, Kelto shushed him - a habit picked up from soothing much younger patients, when he got his start tending the younglings’ skinned knees and broken bones.

“This one’s not so bad, I think,” he murmurs. “Just needs a little kolto to help keep it clean. Just put some ice on it every few hours for the swelling and it’ll go away soon.”

“And this?”

“Hm?”

Sskeer gestured again to a long line of angry green flesh across his trunk.

“OH Force,” the Rodian cried, slapping a hand against his forehead. “I completely missed that somehow, thank you so much, I’m so sorry. Gods, I’ll get right on that--”

The Trandoshan surprises him with a chuckle. “Rather absentminded for a healer, aren’t you?”

“D-don’t judge!” Kelto sputters. “I’ve been distracted.”

“By what, exactly?” Sskeer asked, with a smirk.

“... J-just lie all the way down, please?”

Sskeer leaned back onto the biobed, hands resting behind his back. Now the whole of his broad, stocky abdomen lies prone under the glowlights, throwing the long diagonal burn across his trunk into stark, unmistakable relief.

“Why is this one so much worse,” Kelto wonders aloud.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘worse’. As I said, I endure.”

“I’m sorry, this doesn’t look like a giant, stinging saber-welt to you?” Kelto peered closer at the mark, hesitantly plying the flesh of the Trandoshan’s belly under his fingers. “...Actually, wait. This is almost a first degree burn. What kind of training saber makes marks like these?”

Now it was Sskeer’s turn to fall quiet and avoid eye contact.

“...You… did something pretty dumb, didn’t you.”

“...When my performance against the droids began to suffer, I… disabled some of the limiters on the droids,” Sskeer growled, at length.

“Y-you did WHAT?”

“I thought it would motivate me to improve,” he shrugged.

“So when I called you a masochist earlier and you didn’t really deny it--”

This time, Sskeer almost snarled. “It’s no crime to seek out a proper challenge.”

“Oh, and if every adrenaline junkie Padawan jumped off the High Council Tower, you would too?”

“Will you just stop arguing and fix this?”

“I--” Kelto groaned. “Okay, whatever, big guy. Just - just hang on.”

He arranged his hands on either side of Sskeer’s wound - one above on his chest, one below on his stomach. Then he sucked in a deep breath through his snout and released it slowly, letting his eyes fall shut as he exhaled. 

He was panicking, he knew. Overcorrecting. There was no reason to take things this far when he was literally standing in a room filled with other, more practical solutions - and certainly not over something so silly as a shouting match with a Knight he barely knew. But by now, good sense and training had momentarily fled him. 

Here, in this moment, Kelto sank into the Force and let himself be guided by the simple instinct to help.

He took another slow breath in, and out, and began to concentrate.

And then…

Sskeer sensed it before he saw it. He craned his neck over his chest to see - and rose up on his elbows, watching intensely.

With preternatural speed, the hideous burn across his torso lightened, shrank - and then vanished. In its place only unblemished scales remained.

Like he’d never even been touched.

Kelto let out one final, explosive breath - and almost collapsed. Sskeer jolted to his feet and grabbed his arms, cradled his back in one arm, steadying him on his feet until he could recover.

“Nice catch,” Kelto panted, when he’d finally recovered.

Sskeer was looking at him differently, the Rodian noticed through the blur of lightheadedness. Looking with him with something like awe.

“That was… quite a feat,” the Trandoshan noted. “It seems you were correct to follow the path of the healers.” 

“Y-yes, well,” Kelto murmured sleepily, “we all have our own special talents.” 

His eyes trailed back to Sskeer’s chest, fingertips idly following their gaze down his trunk. They tickled, just slightly; Sskeer registered an unexpected, but not wholly unpleasant shiver down his spine.

“Think we’re all done now,” the Rodian mumbled. Then his big, sea-blue eyes blinked - slowly, then rapidly, like a Wookiee propeller-engine starting up - and he realized his hand was just shy of cupping one of Sskeer’s pecs.

“UM,” he said loudly, jumping away. “YEAH, so, all done. Clean bill of health. You should be completely fine within the next day or so, and then you can go get your butt handed to you by the training droids again, right? Yup, glad to help, have a nice day, May the Force Be With You and all that jizz, ahaha~”

The Rodian became a flurry of hyperactivity around the ward, re-stocking and re-checking shelves and cabinets for reasons Sskeer could not divine. To appear busy, he supposed - and discourage his continued presence.

It was, he decided, reather endearing. 

Sskeer let the flustered healer flail a moment more before saying, “I don’t think you ever shared your name.”

When he looked over his shoulder, Kelto’s face looked as bright as a Life Day orb - only much, much greener. “Huh?”

“Force healing is no small feat,” the Trandoshan observed, slipping his tunic and tabard back over his shoulders. “To have seen it performed is a privilege; for something as small as my own self-inflicted injury, and after my own stubbornness - an honor. 

“I’d prefer to thank you for it properly, and to apologize. But for that, I must ask your name.”

The Rodian stared. Then coughed, turning to lean back against the counter before him. “Uh, well… That’s … kind of you, but I - you know, we’re Jedi and all. W-we don’t really serve for gratitude’s sake.”

“For the sake of a fellow Jedi, then, and a friend?” 

“…Friend?”

A bemused head tilt. “Are we not?”

“W-well, that’s moving a bit quickly, isn’t it? I mean - we don’t even know each other’s names.”

Sskeer stared.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not dumb, I swear, I’m just -- panicking.”

The Trandoshan gave him a funny look. (It was kinda cute, Kelto noticed, when his nose scrunched up like that.) 

Just spit it out. Spit it out. Spit it out. You’re blowing it. Just spit it out spititout spititout---

“My name’s Kolto,” he said -- and groaned.

“Your name,” Sskeer echoed, “is...‘Kolto’?”

“Noooo, no, not ‘Kolto’ - Kelto! Kelto! My name is Kelto. Kelto Lem. I just - I’m just called ‘Kolto’. By - certain people.”

“Because… you work with kolto?” he ventured. “Or because it happens to sound similar?”

Kelto sulked, crossing his arms. “Because Torban Buck thinks he’s funny.” 

Understanding dawned. “Ah. Yes, he certainly does.”

“Mmmmgh. Well, now that I’ve botched my own introduction, I guess you know me. So you can leave me to my shame, now, I guess.” Kelto returned to the business of managing the ward - opening and closing cabinet doors slightly harder, this time.

A wide, three-fingered hand landed on his narrow shoulder, making him jump.

“Thank you, Kelto Lem,” Sskeer said. “Truly, you’re a credit to the Order.”

His voice was deep and warm. Kelto swore he could feel his breath tickling his ear.

“A-anytime,” he replied, spine locking ramrod straight.

He senses Sskeer’s presence pass by behind him, and imagines it’s what little Rodian swamp-fish feel like when big surface trawlers pass by, and catch them in their wake. “And perhaps when I continue my training,” Sskeer added, “I will remember to return here, for my wounds to be dressed.”

“Orrr you could crush those droids and never need to come back here again!” Kelto shakily returned.

“I’m sure I could, at that,” Sskeer chuckled. And the door slides shut behind him.

The moment Kelto was certain he was alone, he took a little paper cup and pours himself a drink of cool sinkwater. It takes gulping down two full cupfuls before he cools down, sinking heavily on his elbows against the counter.

“‘Kolto’,” he muttered, scoffing. “God damn it.”

[psnowflake]

Charades and a Drink Chapter 3 (A Post-Frozen 2 Ficlet)

Update update! I love writing fluff/angst, shit is addicting as hell. Planning on working on this simultaneously with my other fic, whichever I feel like writing at the time. Here’s the link to chapter 2, and here’s the link for ffn. Enjoy!

The great hall was packed with guests from different kingdoms from all parts around the world. Which was to be expected for the infamous summer solstice ball held in Arendelle. Conversations flew in all directions, and the festive jubilation was practically infectious.

Waiting for the start of the commencement ceremony behind the curtains, Anna was bouncing nervously on the back of her heels.

Elsa hadn't arrived yet, and it was much past the time that they had agreed to meet. Which was strange, because Elsa was almost always punctual. She was starting to worry that the older girl had decided to ditch her last minute.

Elsa would never do that.

How do you know?

She would never leave me.

But she did before, didn't she?

Yeah...but…

Sadly, she didn't have an argument for that.

Just as her doubts were beginning to get the better of her however, the sound of approaching footsteps resounded behind her.

"Sorry I'm late Anna, I was having trouble tying up my-"

Elsa walked in, and the sight of each other made them both stop in hushed silence.

Anna felt her throat dry and heat immediately rush up into her cheeks.

She couldn't put into words just how gorgeous Elsa looked in that moment. By now she thought she would've been used to the girl's ethereal level of beauty, but once again she was proven wrong. The blonde's dress was similar to her usual ice gown, but also with noticeable differences. It was a brighter shade of blue for one, bordering along the line of celeste. The hem fell short right below her knees, revealing the full display of her sister's slender calves. The top was no less revealing. The pleasing sight of Elsa's smooth shoulders added to the strange warmth she was starting to feel all throughout her body.

And her hair…

It was in the usual braid that Anna favored, but somehow it looked more...wild. It was less tightly woven, loose, emphasizing the slick of her bangs. A few bright snowflakes were also adorned along the braid, which complimented the blue color of her eyes flawlessly.

Needless to say, Anna liked it.

A lot.

Neither one said anything for a moment, but it was Anna who broke the silence first.

"Wow Elsa...You look…"

Amazing.

Stunning.

Drop dead gorgeous.

"You look beautiful..." She finally managed.

Elsa smiled shyly in response. "Thank you, so do you."

Anna let out an awkward laugh. "Nowhere near as beautiful as you probably."

At that Elsa frowned, and in a few steps took Anna's hand in her own, causing the redhead to look up curiously.

"Don't say that. You look beautiful, okay? Don't ever tell yourself otherwise." Elsa's tone was somehow both powerful and gentle, and it made Anna's heart skip a beat entirely.

"Okay..." Was all she could manage as she found herself lost in the blonde's affectionate gaze.

In that moment, Anna wished time would stop just to let her continue to stare and savor every detail of Elsa's reassuring smile. Maybe time did stop, because it felt like many minutes had passed as they stood there hand in hand, staring lovingly into each other's eyes, until they were finally interrupted.

"Your Majesty." The curtains of the hall were pulled back, and Kai appeared behind them.

Anna and Elsa jumped away quickly from each other as if they were caught doing something indecent.

Kai blinked in confusion. "My apologies, did I interrupt something?"

Anna composed herself with a clear of her throat. "N-not at all Kai."

The servant nodded respectfully. "The preparations are ready for the commencement. We'll be starting the introductions shortly."

Anna nodded and looked to Elsa in anticipation. "You ready?"

Elsa smiled softly. "Of course."

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

"Introducing Her Majesty, Queen Anna of Arendelle!"

Elsa watched Anna lift the curtains and make her way to the center of the dais as she was announced. All the guests clapped and a number of cheers rang out from the crowd, heralding the arrival of the kingdom's beautiful monarch.

And God was she beautiful. Fittingly, Anna looked like the essence of summer in light green and white, and her skirts moved around her lightly, almost as though they were made of air. She had pulled her auburn hair away from her face, tying it back into a loose style that framed her face, bringing out the teal of her eyes, and her collar bone was exposed, suggesting the enticing pattern of freckles that made it way down to her―

Elsa swallowed hard, and averted her eyes. It was no good, staring at her like this. She had to think of something else. Ever since she first saw Anna minutes ago, her body was reacting in ways that she couldn't control.

Why am I like this?

"Introducing Her Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle!"

Elsa perked up in surprise, not entirely prepared for her introduction.

She really was distracted.

The guests clapped at her entrance. Elsa could see quite a few of them looking at her before whispering amongst themselves. Her confidence wavered. Was the dress too much? If she had to be honest, it was a bit more revealing than what she was comfortable with.

Her eyes shifted to the woman next to her.

Anna was smiling, glancing again at her outfit appreciatively. Almost immediately, Elsa's worries melted away, reminded that the one person that she wore the dress for did in fact like it. That was all that mattered.

The song of trumpets ended and the people clapped again in respect to their hosts.

The rest of the musicians began to tune their instruments, and Anna stepped forward. The ball was about to begin, and it seemed the clamour of the hall was quieting down ever so slightly.

"Thank you everyone for coming today to celebrate the wonderful occasion of the summer solstice in Arendelle. My sister and I are honored to once again commemorate the start of our kingdom's long held tradition with our friends and allies of the northern region. We hope that all the preparations are to your liking." Anna paused briefly before continuing. "As you all may know, it is customary for the summer solstice ball to begin with a commemorative first dance, and I would like to take this time to select a participant."

Elsa stood pensively. It seemed like her every sense was focused on Anna, on the way her skirt fluttered about her, on the way her hands clutched at them with a slightly greater force than necessary, and the way she was watching her every step. The girl had come such a long way she realized. Her speaking had become a lot more composed, and though she was still rough on the edges, it was clear that she had worked hard to improve her level of royal semblance. Elsa couldn't feel anymore proud.

Anna came down from the dais and the guests all stood in attention, eager to see who she would select for her first partner.

As she came to stand in the middle of the cleared out hall, her eyes swept over the assembly, and many raised their glasses in a toast. She appeared thoughtful, but if Elsa had to guess it was mostly a formality. It was already quite clear to her on who it was that would be selected.

Near the front of the left side of the room, Kristoff stood in attention. He looked well groomed for the occasion, and seemed to be doing his best to hide his uncomfortableness for his attire. He shot Anna a smile.

But surprisingly, Anna's eyes didn't stop at him, and she turned back towards the dais until her eyes came to rest upon Elsa.

"Elsa," her clear voice said.

Even though the entire room seemed to turn to her, for a moment it seemed that time itself slowed to a crawl, that the world dimmed until there was only Anna in it, and Elsa felt like she stood at the edge of the light, eager to join her.

"Will you celebrate the summer solstice with me?" She asked.

It was then that Elsa realized she'd been holding her breath. The words didn't sink in immediately, but when they did, her mind began to race. She was reminded of their conversation yesterday, about her not wanting to dance in public because she was shy, and Anna proposing that one day she would. Nervously, she nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. Countless eyes were upon her, watching her every move.

Anna had chosen her.

On the surface it may have appeared nothing out of the usual. Many knew how close the two sisters were and just how deep their bond went, but to Elsa, with all the events that had happened in the past two weeks between them, the implication was something far more striking.

Anna had chosen her over Kristoff.

The walk down from the dais seemed to last an eternity, but it probably only lasted a few seconds. By the time she joined Anna on the open floor, she noticed that her sister appeared just as nervous, the tension almost invisible, perceptible only in the line of her shoulders, the angle of her chin.

Just start with the basics.

Elsa curtsied, and as the silks of her skirt whispered around her, she heard a barely audible 'thank you' come from Anna.

Had Anna really thought she would refuse?

Her chest felt like it was glowing. Elsa stretched out her hand, and Anna took it, and she gave it the barest of squeezes, a shared gesture of comfort between them.

The small orchestra was done tuning, and the conductor's baton clicked at the pages of his music sheets. One, two, three.

"You lead," Anna said encouragingly.

"Okay," Elsa replied, all the same, under her breath.

The gentle notes of flutes began, and behind them the violins and violas began a slow crescendo, but Elsa was already too busy to think on them. Her arm reached around Anna's waist, the world small and shrunken around them, and she cradled her sister's hand gently.

Anna looked up at her calmly, her teal eyes catching the candlelight, and Elsa felt her throat close up. The moment would come in a second, she knew, where the musical introduction would give way to sweeping strings and upbeat winds, and then she would have to move. She knew that much at least.

As the music wrapped itself around her, Elsa made the first step, and Anna followed instantly, reacting with an instinct born of years and years of training with her instructor. Elsa was well-versed in the matter, but Anna was polished. It was almost effortless, the way she danced, stepping backwards lightly and sprightly, as though she could read Elsa's mind even before her own body.

When Elsa extended her arm, Anna twirled, all control and elegance, and their skirts brushed together before Anna returned safely to the crook of Elsa's arm to continue. They moved together as though they had always danced together, as though this were their hundredth dance and not their first.

They turned and turned, one, two, three, and Elsa's senses were overwhelmed, the sight and smell and feel of Anna in her arms mingling with the music and the warm atmosphere. It was nearly too much for her to bear.

Anna's cheeks were flushed pink, her eyes were bright, her auburn hair shone in the evening candlelight and she was growing warmer, closer.

Was it her heart racing, or Anna's? With their hands and breasts together, she could hardly tell anymore. Did it matter?

Their faces were becoming closer and closer without them realizing. Noses almost touching. Eyes peering into each other's wistfully.

And then the music lifted.

Anna's eyes widened and she pulled away. Elsa did the same, slowing to a stop and quickly remembering that every single person in the room had their attention on them. The music ended on a sweeping, happy note, and the hall roared in applause and cheers. Her heart was pounding, her breath was short, and she felt energized, hot, as though she'd run a hundred miles.

What is wrong with me?

"May I have the next dance, Your Majesty?"

Anna turned to one of the visiting dignitaries and though she hid it well, Elsa noted she seemed startled. "Oh," she said, "of course." She then turned to her and gave her a smile. "I'll see you later?"

Elsa nodded, mind still racing. After that, Anna was taken away to the center of the floor to dance again, and Elsa was once again alone.

"Elsa," Kristoff's voice said, next to her, and she turned to the man, trying not to feel so distracted.

"Kristoff," She smiled, wanly. "I suppose that went well." She was trying not to sound affected, but wasn't sure it worked. Around them, the music was beginning again and many guests were now on the floor taking their places.

"It did," He said as they made their way off the floor. He was smiling, but there was something in his eyes that Elsa couldn't decipher. "You guys were amazing."

"I don't know about me, but I'm sure Anna was." Elsa said, laughing in stunned relief. "I had no idea she was going to pick me."

He smiled again, earnestly this time. "I'm not too surprised. You're her sister after all. Everyone knows how close you two are."

Elsa nodded, reflecting that perhaps that really was the case. She was overthinking it. Anna had merely chosen her because they were close and because they were family. There was nothing more to it. They were just sisters.

Recovering from her contemplation, she was able to make out the said girl's face amongst the mass of dancers. Out of sheer luck their eyes met. Anna smiled brightly, and Elsa returned it with a smile of her own. Though truthfully, it was accompanied with a hint of sadness.

"Just sisters."

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

"There you are. I thought you might be out here." Anna came up from behind her.

Elsa was sitting alone in the gardens, away from all the commotion of the party. It was late. She had gotten her fair share of conversations with many of the guests already, and many more dance requests that she had politely turned down.

"Sorry, I just wanted some fresh air."

"No worries." Anna assured her. "It was starting to get a bit stuffy in there anyway."

Elsa chuckled at that. Anna seated herself next to her on the bench. The stars were out that night, bright and quiet. It was quite the spectacle, and both sisters watched on in silent appreciation.

"You were great out there today. Your opening speech was wonderful." She said to break the silence.

"Well, I learned from the best."

Elsa smiled in agreement. "Papa was quite the public speaker, that's for sure."

"I was referring to you, silly."

"Oh."

Anna laughed at Elsa's surprised expression and then proceeded to lean her head onto the blonde's shoulder. Elsa stiffened, but relaxed moments after. It became quiet again. Comfortable, yes, but in Elsa's mind, there was still a certain question that she hadn't quite found the answer to yet.

"Hey Anna."

"Hm?"

She paused, unsure if she really wanted to ask what was on her mind. Staring at their intertwined hands she decided that she should.

"Why did you pick me for the dance?"

This time it was Anna's turn to become silent. All the sounds of the night suddenly seemed to grow in prominence. The chirping of nearby crickets, the echoes of the ballroom, even the small seasonal winds could be heard, all in anticipation to a seemingly fateful answer.

Elsa waited, patiently, until Anna spoke.

"The first dance is supposed to be with the person that you love most right? That's what Mama always told me. I feel like it'd be obvious on who that would be."

The person she loved most?

"T-then why didn't you just ask me beforehand?"

"Ha!" Anna smirked, "If I asked you before, you would've just came up with all sorts of excuses."

Well...she couldn't really disagree with that.

"I guess. I was just...surprised is all." She admitted.

And then quietly, barely above a whisper. So quiet that Elsa almost didn't make it out. Anna said something that made her go still.

"Me too..."

What?

Had she heard that right?

It almost sounded as if...

"Anna-"

"Well!" The girl shot up from the bench. "I better get back to the party before Kai comes to find me. Did you want to come back with me?" Anna asked.

Elsa blinked, caught off guard from being interrupted so abruptly, but she quickly recovered and forced a thin smile. "I think I'll call it a night."

Anna nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

Elsa hesitated for a moment, but replied with a nod. Satisfied, Anna smiled softly before turning and making her way back into the castle.

"Anna."

The redhead stopped in her tracks, turning to her with questioning eyes.

"Thank you...for asking me." She said softly. "I…"

She paused, unsure of herself. But steering her resolve, Elsa smiled sincerely.

"I had a lot of fun."

Anna blinked in surprise, and returned her smile with a brighter one.

"Me too."

[ae0nx]

FRUITS BASKET S2 EPISODE 7 RECAP AKA ‘TOP TIER FURUBA SHIT’

An accurate representation of me getting ready to talk about this episode. 

My guys... this episode pretty much hit all the points for me in what I expect of a Fruits Basket episode... and more! I loveeee this episode. I gotta admit last week’s episode was a bit of a shoulder shrug for me cos it was mostly a set up for the beach ‘arc’ but this. episode. I have way too many screen caps, I don’t know how I’ll do this. 

And we open up with a big ‘fuck no’. I love the flash forward just to prepare the audience for a whole lot of hurt. Excellent. *pours myself a glass of wine*

- Hiro: “Yeah, yeah, yeah, Mum, just don’t trip over, ok?” Sorry about that guys, I just found out my Mum’s pregnant Everyone: Whaaaaa?!

Hiro’s nonchalance of it all had me dying 😂

I appreciate the ‘dog’ fan. Definitely accurate in more ways than one. Strike one.

Strike TWO. The fact he said that in front of not only Tohru but KISA AND HIRO is so gross. I’m not even joking. It’s just gross. Not a great joke at all. Poo poo.

STRIKE THREE. Akito... please come get your dog. It’s the only useful thing you can do rn anyway

Wow, Yuki. I actually teared up a little at his realisation. This whole episode should just be called ‘call 999 for these kids’.

Hiro’s mum just sounds like a Furuba fan tbh 😝😂 Also... are the zodiac members born in their animal forms? Or is it just in the first instance they are held by a parent of the opposite sex? Cos if it’s the first option, that’s pretty... messed up. But, theoretically hilarious at the same time!

Ohhhh... Tohru’s one of those people who like to push aside their own problems and focus on other people’s instead... Except, it’s not in an annoying and judge-y way at all. However, I am beginning to question whether she is actually that selfless and the real root of it is that Tohru needs a distraction from her own pain. Either way, it’s sad and I don’t think she’s doing it consciously at all which makes it even sadder.

Oh, Tohru.

Also, appreciation for Momiji being a human backpack at all times. And I love his cat eared hat! I want one! Our Outfit Appreciation Winner this week. 4 stars.

- Kisa/Hiro being a mini version of Kyoru was basically confirmed this episode and I am happy.

Such a gorgeous moment. Pretty much met the feelings and emotions I got from reading this moment in the manga AND MORE. It’s golden. And I love it. ...‘nuff said.

Oh look, Dad’s here too 🤣

*looks into the distance to a far off future...* ANYWAYS

- Kyo being so open and honest and vulnerable with Tohru to a point where he mistakenly already thinks he told Tohru all about his parents already is just... everything to me. Especially from someone like Kyo who’s constantly carrying all this baggage around. But jeez, we always forget that Tohru’s got baggage she’s carrying around too! Tohru and Kyo on surface level look like such opposites in every way but remove some layers and they are so similar, it’s uncanny! 😍🤡

I just love developing relationships. 🥰

- Kyoko definitely wanted to destroy that flowerpot 😈 We love her. We miss her.

He’s so in love with her, I can’t. I’m gonna cry. <3 Also, that expression feels like a very Kazuma expression, is it just me?

*spontaneously combusts* 

But anyway... just cos we can’t have anything good for too long...

Tbh if I knew a Shigure, that’d be how I’d start every conversation.

I love Hatori. :) I mean he wouldn’t actually slice his gut open but it still means a lot to me that he said he would...

This go around of Fruits Basket has made me realise how much I relate to him and his position in the family. Every anime has a character that’s in their twenties and just... tired and I always relate best to them, shoutout to Keishin Ukai from Haikyuu.

Even though I hate Akito, I have an appreciation for the subtle shit the animators/designers do whenever they come onto screen. All of Akito’s actions have a kinda feather-lightness/almost ethereal feel to them and the way Akito is contrasted against not only the scenery but the other characters around them is... so gooood. I’ve already talked about how I love the emphasis on the presence of Akito in their first appearance in the anime but... I’ll still be talking about it cos it’s great. And I can’t wait to hear Colleen Clinkenbeard in this ep, but Maaya Sakamoto was stellar in this episode (fun fact: did you know she also played Haruhi in OHSHC?!?).

But yeah, I still hate Akito. Sorry.

- Kisa’s little sigh of relief that Tohru doesn’t have to meet Akito was already HEARTBREAKING but mixed with this moment....?!?!

...

I...

I just really need someone to explain to me how you could like Akito. Even after the ending of this whole series. Like...

I just don’t get it. I don’t... 

Look, I’m gonna malfunction if I don’t move on.

Oh?

This is the start... of something new... it feels so right... to be here with you... 

oooohhhh 🎶 

 👀

- Kinda sad that Kyo and Tohru had the house to themselves but there was so much weird and bad energy in the air that they couldn’t even really enjoy their pancakes :(

- That Akito and Shigure and Hatori (and partially Kureno) scene just really... disgusted me. To see someone have that much power in their touch and their words is... freaky and unsettling. And I love it cos it’s interesting but I also hate it soooo much. I have nothing more to say about it besides that really. I was more interested in the Shigure and Hatori moment afterwards...

That’s a nice way of putting it...

Maybe this was to be taken mostly as a joke, but do you think that Shigure actually wants Hatori to remind him how much of a shitbag he’s being? Most of my problem with Shigure (and why I actually liked 2001!Shigure but let’s not go there again) is that out of everyone in this series, he’s the most untouched. And yet he schemes and manipulates and seems to get everything he wants. AND what makes it even worse and annoying and spectacular, is that Shigure’s little nudges and pushes of the chess pieces which are the zodiac members aren’t so obvious to the extent that you could only blame him for it. It’s almost genius, if it weren’t so repulsive. 

*sighs* I just really want him to either repent or feel some kind of guilt afterwards. 

...Hence why I’m most interested in where he’s at after the end of this all.

All I want is a scene between him and Tohru, somewhat like this:

👀

...Ok, this moment made me like Shigure just by 5% more this episode. Still trying to figure out that Shigure/Akito relationship literally a decade later tho...

BACK TO SOME KINDA HAPPY(?) STUFF!

I love love love love love this moment between Yuki and Tohru. It was gorgeous!

I wish this scene were longer so I could make an AMV (if I really felt like it) with Coldplay’s ‘A Sky Full Of Stars’. The lyrics match the moment so much and I definitely cried.

Oh, Yuki...

It was such a beautiful way to end this episode. Wow.

And Yuki’s words to Tohru that ‘she’s just like the sky’ has so many meanings to it and I want to go into it but I’ll start really explicitly going into spoilers. So, I’ll just leave it as poetic cinema.

Perfect.

God, this was such a good episode, guys! I’d probably put this episode on the same level as the True Form episode. It gave us furuba shenanigans, it gave us kyoru, it gave us disgust and hurt and it gave us a moment of someone rising out of the ashes!

I love this anime. :) See you next week!

[mermaidxatxheart]

Paint Me a Memory Chapter Twelve

Okay, so this one will be a little bit different, but I adore this chapter so much. I hope you all like it. If you want to be added to any of my tag lists, send me an ask.

@heli0s-writes @seasaurusrrex @imaginingbucky are all super talented and inspire me daily with their insanely amazing works. If you haven’t followed them by now, you definitely should.

A massive thank you to @captainsteveevans for making this mood board. I love it desperately and she is my go-to whenever I need any made. 

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of naughty thoughts. Nothing too bad. Barest mentions of Quill.

Series Master List

Here we go.

Chapter Twelve

Bucky

 Your scent fills the limited space of my car, sweet perfume coupled with my favorite smell of paint, and I can hardly focus. You shut the door softly, making sure it clicks, and let out a sigh. 

 I carefully pick up the hot chocolate in the cup holder and hand it to you. “Everything okay?” 

 “My professor that I told you about. He thinks I’m pouting.”

 My hands tighten on the steering wheel. “I don’t like that your professor laughed at you for wanting to learn something new,” I mutter. 

“Especially since he was the one who told me I needed to try new mediums.” You roll your eyes and I desperately want to punch this clown for you.

 “Is he that impossible with your classmates?” I ask.

 “Dunno.” You shift in your seat and take a sip of your hot chocolate. I get the feeling you’re hiding something from me, but you aren’t quite ready to share. 

 And that’s okay. I can be patient. 

 “What stuff did you bring to show me?” I ask. 

 “Some sketches, a few old paintings that were deemed not as good.” You shrug. “But I liked them all the same. And based on what you showed me, I think you will.” You hesitate. “At least, I hope you will.”

 I send you a reassuring smile. “I’m sure I will.” I angle my car towards a warehouse district. 

 “Is it safe out here?” You ask. 

 “Safe enough. I have a security system that’s armed at all times. But at any rate, I won’t leave you all alone. I’ll be here working, too.”

 “Oh, good.” You relax a little and I try not to read too much into that. “Have you ever worked with marble before?” You ask, adjusting yourself to face me a little.

 “I’ve dabbled. I didn’t really like it. It was too hard, not enough soft features. I liked sculpting clay better, or painting.” I glance over at you, the delicate curve of your cheek and I know I’ll be struggling to get that shape perfectly right in my dreams.

 I pull my car in front of my warehouse and park. You climb out, retrieving your portfolio from the back seat. I unlock the door and let you in, catching another whiff of your perfume. I turn on the overhead lights and disable the alarm, resetting it immediately. 

 “Wow.” You mutter, looking around. I fidget nervously behind you, waiting for a more definite reaction. “No wonder your stuff is so amazing. Why do you ever leave?” You turn to look at me all wide-eyed and I let out a breathy chuckle.

 “Mostly because Steve and Sam make me.”

 “Your friends?” You ask as I lead you further in. “You mentioned them the other day, but we didn’t talk much about them.”

 “Yeah. Steve more so than Sam, but I can’t have Steve without Wilson.” I roll my eyes and you chuckle. 

 “Is he that bad?”

 “Nah. I just like making his life miserable.”

 “I can appreciate that. I enjoy making Peter’s life miserable, too.”

 “Here, set your stuff down.” I gesture to the couch and you set your portfolio down. I help you out of your jacket, draping it over the back. Your fingers trail lightly over the back of the couch, tracing the fabric. I watch you for a second, mesmerized by your nimble fingers. 

 “Sorry.” You clear your throat. 

 “For what?” I gesture away from the lounge area I have. You simply shrug. “Nothing wrong with being tactile. It’s actually useful for marble working.” I smile softly. 

 “I just like knowing the way things feel.”

 “Like I said, nothing wrong with that. So, this is my living room, if you will. The fridge is usually always stocked, as are the cabinets. You’re welcome to anything while you’re here. If there’s anything in particular you’d like as a snack, just let me know.” I ramble, trying to make you feel comfortable. 

 My nerves are through the roof at the thought of you being here, but now that I’ve seen you in here, I never want you to leave.

 The living area I’ve set up is modest, two couches, a kitchen counter, sink, cabinets, and a fridge. It sits towards the front of the warehouse, out of the way and leaving most of the space for me to work. 

 I lead you around the half wall of cabinets and your eyes get wide, looking around. I have my studio set up into segments, or smaller cubicles, depending on what I want to work on. I have a photoshop set up in one corner with a darkroom attached; a separate, brightly lit section for when I want to paint-cluttered with paintings, half-finished canvases, and paint splatter anywhere. 

 Another section dedicated to when I work with pastels, charcoal or when I just want to sketch. Another corner is set up for when I want to model with clay or something a little more physical. The center of the big warehouse is open, bright light from the large skylights above shine down on three large workbenches.

 “Your brain is amazing.” You mutter and I feel my cheeks heating up. “What’s over there in that area?” You ask, pointing towards the very front corner. 

 “Glass blowing, if I ever get around to learning.” I say with a shrug. “Come on. I’ll show you where I have you set up.” I hold out my hand and you slip your small one into mine. I lead you to the middle where the three large workbenches are. Each bench has a hunk of marble covered with a sheet, ready and waiting for you to work on. 

 “It has the best light in all of the building, the most space and I’ll be close by if you need help.”

 “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.” You press your free hand to your face and my heart skips at the thought of you crying.

 “It’s okay. It gives me a chance to spend more time with you.” I worry for half a second that that was too far, but the smile on your face wipes my doubt away instantly. 

 “Okay, Romeo. How do I do this?” You ask, setting your cup down and pulling your hair back into a messy bun.

 “Right.” I open one of the drawers on the bottom of the workbenches and pull out a rolled-up tool kit. “Here. For you.” I say softly, placing the kit in your hands. Your fingers deftly untie the string and you unroll it. 

 Chisels of different sizes are nestled in their pockets, smaller mallets are in the last two spots. “I wondered why it was so heavy.” You chuckle. “Thank you, Bucky.” You say, the sincerity drips off your words and all I can do is smile. 

 “Do, uh... do you know what you want to make?” I ask, stumbling over my words a little, but fuck you make me nervous. 

 “I do. A couple, dancing.” You nod confidently, fingers tracing the chisels. 

 “Alright, you should make a rough sketch on the marble, that way you have a general idea of what way you’re going.” I say, taking a step back. 

 “What do I use to do that?” You ask, your eyes focused completely on the marble. I open another drawer and place the charcoal stick in your palm, letting my fingers trail over the back of your hand. 

 You watch the marble for a second, head tilted, plump bottom lip caught between your teeth. I realize belatedly that I may have left out an instruction, but then you move and you start sketching the lines over the rough surface. 

 I pick up one of the point chisels and the mallet. You turn to me and I hold them out for you. “It’s a good idea to start with the point chisel to get rid of the majority of the bulk. Just go slow, I hope you have good aim.”

 You turn back around and place the point against the marble. Your tiny hand tightens and retightens around the iron, testing your grip and stability. I know exactly what’s going to happen, it happens to everyone and it won’t be the last time, but I still cringe to think about your delicate hands being hurt.

 You rest the mallet against the head before giving it a gentle tap. It barely makes a mark on the hard surface; however, it does slide off and clip your fingers. 

 You gasp, a strangled whine escaping. “Ow-shit. I see what you mean about good aim.” You mutter, shaking your hand. I step closer, taking your wrists and rubbing your fingers before placing a gentle kiss to them.

 “You okay?” I ask. You nod and I turn you back around. “Grip it tighter, a little further down,” I say, wrapping my fingers around yours around the chisel. Your grip tightens and you lean back against my chest slightly. “Good. And now your mallet.” I guide your hand up, but you hesitate.

 “I don’t want to hurt you.” You mutter. 

 I press my forehead against the back of your head with a small smile. “I’ll be fine. You won’t hurt me, doll. Give it a good, hard smack.” I tell you, guiding your hand back. You do and the mallet doesn’t hit our fingers and it chips away at the hard material.

 “See? Perfect.” I say, looking down at you, cradled against my chest and I realize suddenly just how many liberties I’ve taken just to get close to you. I pull back, clearing my throat and letting you go. “Have at it.”

 Your eyes completely light up and you take another swing. I miss having you in my arms, feeling the way you press into me, but at the same time, watching you work is fascinating. 

 You give the object in front of you every ounce of your attention. Not one detail goes unnoticed and if you give everything you do this level of attention, I have incredibly high hopes.

 After I’m sure you’ve gotten the hang of it and I’m not needed, I drift away to work on my own stuff. Not that I have any deadlines. Wilson already has my finished stuff for my upcoming art show. 

 I settle back in my sketch area, where I have a perfect view of you, and grab my sketchbook. I flip to a new page, starting to sketch you working. Your hair is already starting to escape from your elastic, hanging in your face and sticking to your neck. But you hardly seem to notice. 

 Your mallet slips and it cracks against your fingers again. You drop the chisel with a clatter, hopping around.

 “Son of a bitch.” You hiss. 

 I set my sketch pad down as you come towards me, hand held out. I smile to myself and take your hand in mine and pressing it between my palms. 

 “That hurt.” You sigh as I bring your hand to my mouth.

 “Won’t be the last time, doll.” I say softly, pressing your fingers to my lips. “We should probably get you gloves. The chisels are gonna tear up your pretty little hands.” I grin. 

 You roll your eyes. “I’m not worried about my hands. The paint stripper and turpentine don’t do me any favors.”

 “All better?” I ask and you nod.

 “Thanks.” Your eyes suddenly turn guarded as you pull your hand free.

 “Any time.” I smile. You turn back, heading back for your marble and I pick up my sketch pad again. 

 This time it’s your profile, angular like a Greek goddess, hair tumbling down around your shoulders like when we went to the museum. I almost couldn’t take my eyes off you long enough that day to show you what I loved so much.

 Then my imagination runs away from me and I’ve drawn you leaning over the viewer, hair hanging in your face, some strands sticking to your forehead and neck. Your eyes dilated to almost black, lips parted softly.

 Shit.

 I put my sketchbook away, shifting uncomfortably. Thinking about you hovering over me, soft little puffs of air escaping, moving your hair, it’s getting me in trouble. 

 I wait for a few minutes for my pants to get comfortable again before I get up. I walk towards you, trying desperately to keep my thoughts pure. 

 You’re making pretty significant progress at chipping away the excess, but I can tell your hands are starting to hurt. 

 “No broken fingers yet?” I ask, leaning against the bench next to you.

 “No, but I don’t think I can open my hands.” 

 I carefully pry the chisel and mallet out of your grip and gesture to the bench behind us. You brace your clenched hand against the hardtop and try to slide up onto the counter. I chuckle and lift you up easily, setting you down. 

 “Stay. I’ll be right back.” I head over to the iron staircase and jog up the steps, taking them two at a time. I open the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and grab my lotion bottle. You weren’t lying about the paint thinners and turpentines being brutal on your skin. I make my way back down to you and set the bottle next to your leg.

 “What are you doing?” You ask, eying me curiously.

 “Helping your hands. You should think about getting an actual massage at some point though, because this is gonna kill your shoulders.” I say, squeezing out some lotion into my palm and gripping your hand. I start slowly massaging the knots out of your palm and fingers. 

 Your eyes close, head dropping back as your lips part. “Wow, that’s good.” You moan and I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m trying to be a gentleman here; you’re not making it easy. 

 “Jesus, Bucky.” You sigh and I chuckle. 

 “Just let me know if I hurt you.” I say, pulling on your fingers, stretching them out.

 “At this point, it feels so good that I honestly don’t care.”

 I grin and drag my thumbs down the fleshy part of your palm.

 “Fuck, don’t stop.” You groan and it takes everything I have not to kiss you right now. I massage your hand until it can move freely. You happily place your other hand in my palm. 

 “Feeling better?” I ask as I work your hand.

 “Yeah, thank you.”

 I squeeze your hand again and let go. “Want anything to drink?” I ask, stepping back. 

 “I’ll take some water.” You smile. “Can I use your bathroom?”

 “Up the stairs. It’s just about the only thing up there, so, you can’t really miss it.”

 “Thanks, handsome.” You push yourself off the bench and head for the stairs. I head for the kitchenette and get you your glass of water. I eye my bottle of bourbon, thinking about just a sip to settle my nerves. But I ultimately decide against it. I’m already having a hard enough time controlling myself around you-best not to add alcohol into the mix. 

 The crack of the mallet against the head of the chisel startled me. I hadn’t realized you were back. I bring your water over to you, setting it on the backbench. 

 In my head, images of you float through my mind. 

 Homey. 

 Domestic. 

 I bring you a cup of coffee in your favorite mug, my arms snaking around your waist, face nuzzling into your soft hair and Jesus, what have you done to me?

 “Thanks.” You smile. “Did you want to look at the stuff I brought?”

 “Yeah.” I head back over to the couch, picking up the heavy case. I carry it back and lay it out on the workbench behind you and open it up. 

 “I saw your article, by the way.” You say over your shoulder.

 “Oh god.” I groan and you laugh.

 “You looked good. The journalist was into you.” You comment and I jerk, looking up at you.

 “You could tell that?”

 “Oh yeah. She used a lot of very flattering descriptions.” You grin.

 “Shit.”

 You glance over your shoulder quickly before turning back around.

 “You okay?”

 “I’m nervous. You’re...you.” You sigh. 

 “I’ll go easy on you.” I tease and you chuckle. 

 “Thanks for that.”

 I lift open the case and pick up the first sketch, feeling myself freeze. I stare at the sketch for a long time, mesmerizing the lines so carefully drawn. 

 Jesus, fuck me.

 I gingerly turn it over and move on to the canvas. Your attention to detail is incredible.

 I can feel your tension, nerves stretched too thin, but I can’t ease them right now. I’m too dumbstruck. I carefully, slowly look through the sketches and your paintings. 

 Finally, you smack the chisel on the table. “Okay. Say something. I can’t take the silence.” You whine. 

 I set the last paper down and look up at you, keeping my face devoid of any emotion, which is hard because I just wanna laugh at you. “I don’t understand.” I say eventually.

 “Oh no.” You cover your face. “Okay, tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

 “How are you not the center of your own show?” I ask and you drop your hands. 

 “What?”

 “Your shit’s good. Better than mine. And I’m no slouch. Are you not submitting it anywhere?” I frown. “You said something about your work not being good enough?”

 You sigh and walk over to your purse. You dig inside for just a second before you come back with a fistful of about 15 or 20 envelopes. 

 “I have been. They just don’t like what I send in.” You place them in my hand. “Hence the marble. If this doesn’t work, then maybe it’s not meant to be.” You say coldly and turn back to the table. 

 I don’t miss the way you didn’t deny your work is better than mine. You know how good you are. I carefully read through the letters, frowning more and more.

 “How are you submitting them?” I ask. 

 “My professor. He has some connections at some galleries.” You say. 

 “The same professor who laughed at you?”

 “Yeah.” You sigh loudly, exhaling hard through your nose. 

 “You don’t like him?” I guess. Not that I can blame you, he seems like an asshole.

 “I don’t like anyone, Barnes.” You say harshly before flashing me a quick smile. “Except for you. Because you’re nice. And handsome.”

 I drop a wink in your direction. “You know, I can probably put a word in with the Maximoff twins. Get them to change their mind.” I offer, but somehow, I already know you won’t accept.

 “I appreciate it, Bucky, but no thank you. If I’m going to get recognized, I want it to be because of me, not because someone made them.” You say gently. 

 I nod for a second, thinking just how much I like you right now. “That’s good. Because I really didn’t want to call Pietro. He’s kind of full of himself.”

 You laugh and pick up the chisel. “I’m almost done with the bulk, I think.” You say.

 “Alright. So, more sketches on what needs to be removed and then you’ll use this. It’s called a tooth chisel. This is for finer details.” I show you how to hold it and you nod, rolling your shoulders.

 “Need a break?” I ask. 

 “Not yet. I want to keep going.”

 “Alright. Let me know if you need me to kiss any fingers better.” I say before I can stop myself. 

 “Done.”

 “Mind if I play some music?” I ask.

 “Please.” You nod, turning back around. I turn on my favorite playlist and start packing up your art, an uncomfortable feeling about it in the pit of my stomach.

 I want to do something about it to help you, but I don’t want you mad at me. I drift back over to my sketch pad, hopefully, to keep my mind above your waist this time. 

 I don’t realize that it’s growing dark until you come over. Dust is covering your face and hair and fuck you look so beautiful all a mess like that. 

 “Are you planning on keeping me here forever, handsome?” Your voice breaks through my reverie and I look at you. An apologetic grin stretches across your face. 

 “If I could, I would, doll.” I glance at my watch, realizing it’s approaching 10:30. “How did it get so late?” I groan, stretching and cracking my back slightly before setting my closed sketchbook on my desk. “You hungry?”

 “Yeah, definitely. Mind if I clean up first?” You ask, wiggling your fingers. 

 “Go for it.” I smile. I should have suggested you stop a while ago. You’re going to be so sore tomorrow.

 Chapter Thirteen

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