#spirit buddies

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

TODAY’S FROZEN MOMENTS - 80 Years Ago Today - July 14th, 1943, German former athlete and then soldier Luz Long was killed in battle. But just before his death, knowing it would be his last gesture, he wrote a letter to his close friend asking a last favor of him. His friend was American track star Jesse Owens.

Luz Long had been the German long jump champion six times - in 1933, 1034, 1936, 1937, 1938, and 1939. He was arguably the best long jumper in the world - that is until he went to the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin, and had to settle for the silver medal in his event, the gold going famously to American Jess Owens.

But, Luz Long’s greater legacy might be his friendship with Owens, which happened during those Olympic Games on 1936, when Long befriending Owens was a dangerous brave act to do under the nose of Adolf Hitler. As Owens remembers, "It took a lot of courage for him to befriend me in front of Hitler.… You can melt down all the medals and cups I have and they wouldn’t be a plating on the 24-karat friendship I felt for Luz Long at that moment. Hitler must have gone crazy watching us embrace…”

In this last letter Long wrote to his friend Jesse, he said, “I am here, Jesse, where it seems there is only the dry sand and the wet blood. I do not fear so much for myself, my friend Jesse, I fear for my woman who is home, and my young son Karl, who has never really known his father. My heart tells me, if I be honest with you, that this is the last letter I shall ever write. If it is so, I ask you something. It is a something so very important to me. It is you go to Germany when this war done, someday find my Karl, and tell him about his father. Tell him, Jesse, what times were like when we not separated by war. I am saying—tell him how things can be between men on this earth. Your brother, Luz’”

After writing and posting this letter, Long was killed in action, 80 years ago today.

Jesse Owens did indeed travel to Germany after the war and delivered this story and message and gratitude and admiration to Luz Long’s song Karl., fulfilling his friend’s dying request.

These two shots are of Owens with Luz, and then later with Karl.

[h/t and thank you to Mary Elaine LeBey]

[coatl-cuddles]

New Eden friend :)

[comradekatara]

“my first girlfriend turned into the moon” “that’s rough buddy” is adorable not only because zuko positioning himself as sokka’s friend is simply wishful thinking and desperate projection on his part, but because sokka referring to yue as his girlfriend is also just. incredibly lovely. like, back when they were together in the northern water tribe, yue was trying not to explode from overwhelming lust and affection, but meanwhile sokka was like. “we’re literally just friends. this dynamic is nothing more than an innocuous, platonic friendship. the fact that we’ve kissed and clearly want each other and have spent the past month solely in each other’s company talking little strolls around the city and romantic bison rides on appa (and who knows what else) means nothing as long as you just. repress all the emotions and desires and every last shred of humanity you’ve ever had and convince yourself that this is a reasonable way to live a life.” even while yue was adamant that living in utter denial was intolerable, actually, sokka was just like “i don’t get what the big deal is. repression is so easy.” but then yue changed everything by giving up her mortal life to become a spirit, and in the process transcending the human, patriarchal paradigms that prevented their love from being realized. like, if anything, yue wasn’t sokka’s girlfriend, he was her mistress. but then again, yue never wanted hahn; she wanted sokka, and they both knew it. so by shedding those limitations as she sheds her corporality, she is also giving sokka (as well as herself, of course) the permission for them to redefine their relationship on their own terms, beyond simply being forced to succumb to the patriarchal stipulations that dictated the terms of their love. and who knows whether sokka ever admitted it before, to himself or otherwise, but here, in this moment, he can reevaluate what they shared, and instinctively, he knows. she was his first girlfriend. his first love.

[ohitslen]

Angry Vash for me and myself specifically

also extra Vashwood:

[deluweil]

That Awkward Moment 👀😳

Eddie: "Now that my job here is done" 😁😇

Kind of like...👀😂

I love him!!! 😂❤️😂

[kaltacore]

the way cole makes varric conflicted is so delicious i think. most of the characters are uncomfortable around him because they're genuinely terrified of demons and the fade and magic in general but varric is a completely different case. the thing is, he doesn't see cole as a demon at all because he doesn't want to.

he acts like he doesn't care about this stuff. that's a little weird kiddo around here and he wants to befriend him. teach him something even. why not. that's a little guy who's a little too good with knives and can't pick up a single social clue at the same time.

but there it is. the "he could have been a person" line if cole is made more spirit. varric is so upset about it because it's not like he saw cole as, well, a spirit who got a little too human. for varric, he was a human first, a weird kid second. the spirit part didn't even come into consideration because. well. it would make him question things. you know where it goes.

every time he starts bitching about anders he brings up justice. justice drove him mad. justice took over him. justice this, justice that. justice is a scapegoat because the thought that someone varric was friends with was actually willing to blow up the chantry and it wasn't just some evil demon's wish is a very unsettling one. varric's friends may be crazy but they're cool and make no irreversible life decisions of that extent, don't they? blondie turned out this way because he let a demon possess him and make him do terrible things. completely out of the blue.

it's either varric's ex-friend has never been driven crazy by some inherently evil entity and there was a whole other person around him all along and that anger he used to mock was coming from the same place as compassion's urge to become a killer or that little weird but kind kid he started to care about has never been and will never be a real kid. he can't have both. a bitter pill to swallow for someone who has never picked a side in his life

[ikiprian]

Damian's not quite sure what to make of this green, floating dog.

Gotham’s always bred a strange flavor of urban fauna. Damian himself has met, in his time living here: a two-headed pigeon, a bipedal rat which could open doors, and Killer Croc. (Jones’ birth certificate might say Florida, but everyone agrees he’s as good as Gotham-born, the way he chews metal and monologues.) But never before has Damian seen a puppy that glows, let alone phases through the lid of the dumpster it had been scavenging in.

The front of its tag has a logo for Axiom Labs, a company that was bought out some years ago by VladCo. The back has the name “CUJO” in permanent marker, and no phone number.

Well, it isn’t Damian’s fault if someone failed to chip their animal. If nobody comes to claim it, he’s sure Father will agree to a meta companion for Titus. 

[icouldhyperfixatehim]

[sualne]

modern au relationships chart

[sunshinediaz]

and i feel just like i want to kiss you underneath my mistletoe | 9.3k, teen

“You slipped tongue in there, you motherfucker.”  Buck holds his hands up, sufficiently accosted. “Well, you were making a lot of weird noises,” he says, haughtily, as if he’s not the person to blame for Eddie’s red face, “so you were clearly enjoying the tongue.”  Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t,” he lies, like a liar. He enjoyed the kiss a little too much—wouldn’t mind repeating it at least seventeen more times just to see if Buck is really that good with his tongue or if it was a fluke. It’s part of the scientific method, you know.  “Did so.”  “Did not.”  “Did so, Eddie.”  Eddie puts his hands on his hips. “Did—” Except Buck’s a lot closer than he thought, grinning wide and ruddy-cheeked, and Eddie’s not a strong man, not really, and so he closes his mouth, reaches out, grabs Buck’s cheeks, and pulls him in for another kiss. It’s sudden, and Buck’s off-kilter, leaning so far forward he topples, and Eddie catches him, wraps him up tight, and sucks Buck’s tongue into his mouth again, lets Buck play and taste, and swallows every little noise Buck gives him, and, yeah, Buck really is that good of a kisser, holy shit.   Buck pulls back, breathless and starry-eyed and full of wonder. “Wow,” he says, blinking heavy.  “Wow is right.” Eddie grins, tummy full of sparkly joy, and steals another quick kiss because he can. Buck lets him. “Come home with me after shift. Don’t leave ever again, actually.”

read the rest on ao3

[awkwardpossum0]

[reikurusu]

+ Bonus: Kazuki’s genes at work

[picturejasper20]

Now the real question out of all from this moment is: Why did Vlad have a Jack AI program?

[scribefindegil]

"Only in the darkest depths of fear can true courage shine" is obviously about Mob but I keep thinking about it in reference to Dimple's actions in Mogami arc. He was so scared! He started shaking like a leaf as soon as he recognized Mogami and he begged Mob & Reigen to leave, but he STILL faced Mogami head-on in Mob's body as a distraction and voluntarily entered Mogami's mindscape to get Mob out! The trust conversation hits even harder when you remember that this isn't an abstract danger they're up against; it's an entity that Dimple has very specific trauma about!

[chronicowboy]

can't do this anymore (do it anyway) | 2.6k

eddie starts dating again, buck doesn't want to be waiting on the couch forever, hen really wasn't expecting this conversation, and eddie may or may not eavesdrop. just a little.

Its not a big thing in the end.

Chimney asks Eddie how the date with Vanessa went over Bobby's minestrone and a loaf of Athena's sourdough, Eddie tells them about the date and subsequent talk with his aunt.

There's a joke about setting Eddie up with a single mom from Denny's school, or at least Buck hopes it was a joke, and then the bell rings.

Its not a big thing.

At all.

Except Buck can't stop thinking about it.

The little glint in Eddie's eye now he's realised that his life doesn't have to revolve around Chris and only Chris.

Buck hates himself for hating that glint.

But he thought—

He's not sure what he thought exactly.

That he had more time?

That Eddie would stay content with just a best friend at his side forever?

Maybe, however foolishly, Buck had thought that being Buck was enough for Eddie too.

But, like a coma dream, it all has to come crashing down around you at some point.

Which is why Buck finds himself hunched over on the couch at three-forty AM whilst everyone else is asleep in the bunk room.

Or so he thinks.

Its Hen's gentle footsteps that have him pulling his head out of his hands for the first time in—

Shit, has he been sat here for two hours?

"Hey, Buckaroo." She smiles at him, eyes scrutinising behind her glasses. "Want some tea?"

"Sure," he says, voice hoarser than he'd been expecting. Hen squints at him for a moment, and he knows with the utmost certainty that his tea will come with a dash of oat milk and a heaping spoon of sisterly interrogation.

He settles against the back of the couch, head tilted up towards the ceiling, and counts his breaths as the sounds of the kitchen soothe his hackles. If there was anyone he was going to talk to about this, it'd be Hen. He's sort of glad that she'd woken up and found him, taken the decision from his hands, because he's not sure he would have sought her out of his own volition.

Hen sits down on the coffee table in front of him, and he gives himself a beat to prepare before picking his head up and taking his mug from her hands.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks.

"Woke up and couldn't stop thinking about Nathaniel." Hen shakes her head, something sad wrinkling the corners of her mouth. "Thought some tea might calm me."

"Mm," Buck hums, taking a sip of the scalding drink.

"What about you?" She tilts her head at him, kind eyes that kind of make Buck want to cry. "What is it keeping you up tonight? Lightning bolt? Ladder truck? Shooting?"

"None of the above actually." Buck huffs a half-hearted laugh, unwilling to examine the last option too closely.

"So, what is it?" she pushes, gentle as always.

"Vanessa," Buck mumbles into his tea.

"Van—" Hen frowns. "Eddie's date Vanessa?" Buck nods.

"Or whichever date comes next," he clarifies, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"Oh," Hen breathes. She blinks, once, twice, three times, then so rapidly Buck wouldn't be able to count them if he could still do math.

"Hen?"

"Sorry, I just wasn't expecting this conversation." She blinks once more before mumbling, "always thought it'd be Eddie I spoke to first."

"What?"

"What?" Hen bats her eyelashes at him, a tight smile on her face. "What is it about Eddie dating that's making you look like a kicked puppy?"

He gets the sense that she already knows the answer, but the lump clogging his throat makes itself known at the prospect of having to answer. He sets his tea down with shaking hands before clasping them tightly in his lap.

"I don't think I can do it, Hen," he croaks, tears burning in his eyes. "I can't watch Christopher whenever he goes out on a date."

"You know you don't have to—"

"Of course, I do," he snaps. "Of course, I do. Because you were right, Hen. I'm not capable of being a father and walking away. So, Eddie will set up another date, and he'll ask me to babysit, and I'll say yes because I love that kid more than I love Eddie, but..." He breaks off here to clear his throat, only succeeds in lodging the lump more deeply in his throat. "But I'll be sitting on his couch, waiting for him to be early or late or right on time. And whenever he's not looking, I'll be looking for a wrongly buttoned shirt or a hair out of place or a faded lipstick mark—" The sob that claws its way to his mouth is ugly and painful, but he manages to swallow it back down before it can wake up the whole station. When Hen's hand lands on his knee, the tears roll down his cheeks and it becomes infinitely harder to catch the sobs before they can break free. "I can't do it."

"Then, don't," Hen says simply.

"Its not that easy, Hen."

"Have you considered telling him the truth?" She raises an inquisitive eyebrow, and Buck kind of wants to fall into his arms and become a little kid again.

"Its not that easy, Hen."

"Maybe," she hedges. "But Eddie hasn't even started dating yet, and you're already heartbroken. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I lose him completely," Buck bites out. "I can handle losing a part of Eddie. I can handle losing movie nights and lasagne four times a week. I can't handle losing all of him."

"Who says you'd lose all of him?"

"He doesn't feel the same way, Hen." He shakes his head, scrubs at his tear-straked cheeks.

"He doesn't know you're an option," she argues.

"Hen, I can't, okay? I just can't." He buries his face back in his hands. "If it was the other way round, you know, he'd be able to tell me. But I can't tell him."

"Why not?"

"Because if I tell him, I risk losing him and Christopher. If he tells me, he risks losing just me."

"There is nothing just about you, Buck," Hen says solemnly, leaning forward to cup his face and tilt his head towards her. "Especially not to Eddie."

"Hen—"

"And you know everything Eddie does is for Christopher. Have you considered that maybe he's not telling you because he's scared that both he and Chris, would lose you?"

"That's not true, though. He knows there's nothing that would keep me away from Chris."

"Does he?" Hen asks. "Because you don't seem to know that Eddie would do nothing to keep you away from Christopher."

"That's different."

"Is it?" Hen fixes him with a look, one where all her wisdom pools in her eyes and keeps you in place.

"I can't tell him, Hen." There's a finality to his words that shocks even him.

He makes his way up to the roof without looking back.

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

Its a long seven hours before he finds himself changing into his civies in the locker room, the torturous drag of Eddie's elbows against his as they unbutton their shirts. Normally, they'd be discussing plans for their days off, maybe splitting the chores to lighten the load. Today its stiflingly quiet. Buck wonders if its because he's normally the one to carry the conversation, or if Eddie knows something is wrong.

"Hey, uh, you free to watch Chris on Friday?"

Buck crouches down to slip his work shirt into his duffel and hide the grimace on his face.

"Always," Buck throws a grin over his shoulder. "What time?"

"Uh, seven?" Eddie says after a moment of hesitation. Buck tries not to read into it.

"Perfect, I'll see you then." He grabs his duffel and makes for the door.

"You know you don't have to, right?" Eddie's voice stops him on the threshold. Buck steads himself with a hand on the doorframe. "I could get Pepa to watch him, or Carla, or, hell, Hen owes me a favour."

"Eddie," Buck clears his voice of its wobble and plasters on a smile as he turns around, "I'm happy to do it. You know I love that kid like crazy."

"Yeah, I do." Eddie's face does something complicated at that, his voice so unbearably soft that Buck's heart feels like its been wrapped in barbed wire.

"Friday at seven." Buck winks at him and then he's gone, hoping he makes it to his Jeep before the tears fall.

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

Friday rolls around slowly.

Buck wallows in his loft for the first day, dodging texts from a sympathetic Hen and a suspicious Maddie. He only answers Eddie's, because he's pathetic and can't help lunging for his phone every time Eddie's name appears on his screen, but he manages to avoid initiating any conversations.

If Eddie notices, he doesn't mention it.

The second day he's on shift, suddenly much more difficult to hide from Hen's big eyes and Chimney's squinted ones. Even Bobby shoots him a few odd looks throughout the day. But Eddie stays mostly buried in his phone, texting someone with a tiny smile pulling at his lips. Buck has to resist the urge to stalk across the loft, rip the phone from his hands, and frisbee it right out of the bay doors.

The third day, the first twenty-four hours of their forty-eight off, Buck spends moping on his incredibly unyielding couch, all the while fantasising about rough blue fabric and the lump in the left couch cushion that's as familiar to him as his own hands.

The fourth day, Friday, has him waking up nauseous and pushing himself dangerously too far on a run for someone whose stomach only contains water. He forgoes lunch for a nap that only makes him feel worse, showers when his stomach complains at him with a rather loud growl. Then its just a few hours of focusing on the fact that he gets to see Christopher tonight.

Before he knows it, he's pulling on a soft blue tee and walking out the door.

The drive to the Diaz house stretches on forever, every tick of his blinker and honk of an angry Angelino sounding like a taunt, but he pulls into the driveway much too soon.

With a deep breath, Buck clambers out of the truck and walks up to the front door with the ridiculous notion that it feels like there's a gun digging into the small of his back. He doesn't bother knocking, not after quiet confessions over a half-packed lunchbox in the kitchen, and bursts through the door with a grin.

"Where's my favourite Diaz?" he calls out, toeing off his shoes and drifting towards the living room.

"At a sleepover," Eddie says gently, popping out from the kitchen with a stranger jittery energy clinging to him.

"Oh." Buck shuffles awkwardly. "Sorry, I thought—"

"I know I'm only second favourite," Eddie mumbles, a light flush to his cheeks as he looks up at Buck with those dangerous brown eyes of his, "but how about a night with this Diaz?"

"W-what about your, uh, date?" Buck asks, hoping the vicious curl of the word is only in his head.

"He just walked through the door," Eddie breathes.

Buck isn't proud of it, but he's not really sure there's any other way he was ever going to react to that. He freezes. Cartoonishly so. A full-on, full body freeze frame. Every muscle in his body goes taut with shock, his lungs still mid-breath, even his heart misses a beat or two in the pause.

He can't have heard it right. He can't have.

Except Eddie's staring at him with those unbelievably fond eyes of his, the rosy apples of his cheeks glowing in the dim lamplight.

Or its a joke. Yeah, a prank.

Except Eddie is chewing on the inside of his lip in the way he does when he actually is panicking, his hands flexing at his sides.

But Buck thinks hope is much more dangerous than a lightning bolt, so he doesn't let himself believe it.

"Ha-ha. You get cancelled on, Diaz?" Buck rolls his eyes and pushes past Eddie into the kitchen.

He freezes again.

The table is laid for two, a candle in the middle even though Eddie always blows out the tealights at restaurants, a bottle of wine left to breathe next to a tray of Buck's favourite enchiladas. The fancy napkins are folded into triangles on Eddie's chipped plates, Buck's favourite fork in the whole world resting on the tablecloth—the tablecloth—because apparently Eddie knows that Buck likes certain forks better than others. Eddie's shitty Bluetooth speaker is on the windowsill, the faint crooning of Hozier filling the room.

If just one drop of hope feels like a lightning bolt, this hope that rears to life in him now feels like a ladder truck.

Buck spins around to face a hesitantly hopeful Eddie. He looks smaller than he is suddenly, with a sheepish smile tucked into one cheek and his eyebrows high above those molten pools of brown, so full of love that Buck gets a little breathless with it.

"Eddie, what—"

"I heard you talking to Hen," Eddie says, not pausing in his explanation to give Buck time to worry that this is a prank because he knows Buck too well. "And she was right, Buck. I never knew you were an option." He tilts his head, tender eyes apologetic. "If I had have thought there was any way you could feel the same about me, I never would have gone on any date at all." He sighs, taking a careful step closer. "I thought I couldn't have you like this, so when Pepa suggested dating, I thought it might be a good way to move on. But I was fooling myself, Buck, because there's no moving on from the love of your life."

"Eddie." Buck opens his mouth on a thousand unknowable words before taking the two strides to wrap Eddie in a hug. "I love you," Buck breathes into his neck, eyes squeezed shut against the happy tears threatening to fall.

"I love you too," Eddie replies, wrapping his arms around Buck a little tighter than necessary. "I'm sorry."

"You broke my heart, Eddie."

"You broke mine first," Eddie whispers into his shoulder.

A pang of hurt in his chest has Buck pulling back to meet Eddie's eyes, arms still wrapped around his waist.

"When?"

"You died on me, Evan." Eddie sniffs, looks away for just a second before his eyes return to Buck with a longing that makes Buck want to do something truly insane. "You left."

"I came back."

"Three minutes was enough to break me in two," Eddie confesses, quiet and tender and overwhelming.

Buck thinks he's done quite well for lasting this long without jumping him, but he's no saint, so when he can't think of a reply to Eddie's heartbreak, he leans forward to steal it from his lips like he's ready to carry the weight of Eddie's heart as Atlas.

Its a dizzyingly gentle slide of lips at first, Buck afraid to shatter the illusion lest he be left holding the broken shards of his heart. But then Eddie's hand slide up from his shoulders, one to cup Buck's neck, the other to tangle in the curls he left loose after his shower, and something snaps in the miniscule atom of space between them. Eddie's mouth opens under his, and Buck readies himself to dive in when Eddie beats him to it, pulling an embarrassing noise from the bottom of Buck's lungs. Eddie pulls back with a wheezing gasp, dropping his forehead to Buck's as his chest heaves. Buck doesn't think he's ever seen anything quite as beautiful as kiss-rumpled Eddie Diaz trying to find his self control.

"Come on," Eddie murmurs against his lips, "let me wine and dine you, Buckley."

Neither of them makes any move to separate any time soon.

[merc-bee]

this photo never fails to make me cry with laughter everytime I look at it