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bluejaysandblackbats · 25 days

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Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn’t die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 17/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake, Donna Troy

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Seventeen: The Campaign: Malatra Pt. 1

Tim slept in his bed one last time while I packed our things. My phone rang, and I answered to keep from waking Tim up. “Hello?” I whispered.

“Jason, I heard about your friend’s mother—.”

“You don’t have to say anything… Um, Barbara, can I ask you for a favor?” I interrupted.

“I don’t know. It depends… Is it illegal?” Barbara asked.

“No. It’s—. I need you to help me get back in fighting shape. I know Bruce won’t change his mind because I can throw a couple of solid punches, but I’ve gotta do this for myself. I need to know I didn’t let the accident beat me,” I explained. I told her as much of the truth as I could.

“Jason… Wednesday through Friday after school. No excuses,” Barbara replied. I grinned.

“I’ll be there. I promise,” I whispered, “Thank you. Thank you, Barbara. You’re the best.” Barbara was a tough person to move. She wasn’t emotionally driven or faint of heart. Barbara was sharp and efficient. Practical and poised. She was everything I needed in a teacher.

“ Yeah, yeah, yeah. See how you feel about me after our first training session. Bye, Jason… And good on you for getting back up. I thought about what I said to you the last time we talked. I was wrong to tell you that you were being childish. If taking this time away from home was good for your mental health, who am I to tell you—?”

“Barbara, I am a kid. I never said I wasn’t. I was pissed off and closed in, and I reacted. I was in a dark place, and I’d be lying if I said I wanted to go home now… I know it’s what I have to do. I’m gonna be mature about it, for Tim’s sake,” I replied, “I’ve gotta finish packing… But, um—. Thank you, Barbara.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Boy Wonder. See you Wednesday,” Barbara teased. She hung up, and I shook Tim awake.

He pushed my face away and laughed. “ Uggghhh. Jason, what are you doing?” Tim asked.

“She’s gonna train me. Wednesday through Friday, so we’ll condition Saturday through Monday,” I replied. Tim grinned.

“And on Tuesday ?” Tim half-joked.

“Warlocks and Warriors,” I replied, “And—. Oh, Ives wants to come over tonight. I gave him Bruce’s address and said he could stay the night.”

“Ives wanted to hang out? Does he—?”

I nodded. “Ives knows, but I asked him not to mention it… Unless…” I trailed off. Tim shook his head. “Then, he won’t…” I tied labels to Tim’s chargers and tucked them into his suitcase.

We went to the manor at sunset because I knew Bruce wouldn’t be there. Alfred seemed happy to see us again. Ives showed up an hour after we got there, and Alfred served dinner. “Hey, guys… Do you wanna do another campaign here this weekend?” I asked.

Tim’s eyes widened. “You want to?” Tim questioned. I nodded.

“That’d be sick,” Ives replied.

“Cool. Tell the guys Tuesday we’ll hang out here,” I replied. Ives glanced at Tim and looked at his plate when he saw me looking. Tim was oblivious to everything going on in his life because of everything.

“Jason should DM this one,” Tim suggested. I choked. “Come on. You can do it. I see how deep you get into character. And you’re the only person willing to indulge Hudson. Besides, I think the guys are still mad at me for what happened in Ravenloft.”

“That was messed up. I can’t believe you killed Ives first and swapped him out with a Doppelganger. That was sick. And Ives… I’m shocked you let him go through with that,” I replied.

Tim smiled. I reached for my bed to pull myself up, but I felt a shockwave shoot down my back into my legs, and I let go of the mattress. “Jason?” Tim asked.

“I’m okay… But like—. Are you guys sure you want me to DM?” I questioned.

“Yeah, definitely,” Ives replied, “You’ve gotta try it at least once. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again, but you should give it a chance. You might be good.”

"In the living forest lands of Malatra, all seems quiet. Suspiciously so. A warm breeze blows, rustling through the canopies overhead. Topiaries of smiling children surround a small fire. It is the only possible sign of life for several miles. A song breaks through the near-silent forest. It starts low and guttural, like a collective groan, and then the ethereal choral collections of synchronized sobs. It is a song of mourning. A once-distant sound, now building as if it is approaching. The forest's dirt walkways slowly disappear under shrubs and bushes, and it seems like a trick to the eye at first, but no. You see it now. The bushes have feet where roots should be, and finally, a male voice breaks through the grieving chorus," I cleared my throat. "State your business," I bellowed. "He steps forward. A bamboo elf. His hair is a warm brown with the same red undertones of autumn leaves. He keeps his hair in wide and intricate waves and curls. His skin is an olivine green, and his eyes dark brown and ancient, study you. You all recognize this bamboo elf immediately, but before we get into that… you should introduce yourselves." A big, goofy grin spread across Tim's face. Silence fell over my room as I waited for someone to speak.

"You fucking killed it," Hudson mumbled in shock. I covered my smile. "Clay Everlake, earth genasi monk here. I'm stone grey, with bright green hair made of leaves, with the front pulled into a warrior's bun—."

"Man bun penalty!" everyone shouted.

"Is not! Anyway ... It's a warrior's bun, and the rest of my hair hangs leafy down my shoulders. I'm fairly young, rough and tumble, and trouble seems to follow me wherever I go," Hudson answered.

I gestured to Ives. "Eldrid Deepwood, here. I'm a firbolg druid... I uh—. I have bluish-green skin and dark eyes. My hair is whiteish-grey, luscious, and thick, almost mane-like. My ears are floppy... And uh—. And despite my advanced age, I'm a timid sort of fella," Ives stammered in an Irish accent.

I nodded and pointed to Hudman. "Fettar Keephorn. Dwarven rogue, dark beard, dark brown eyes. My loyalties lie with Clay Everlake... Unfortunately," Hudman muttered in a dry voice. We all laughed. "I'm not much for words."

And Tim. I looked forward to Tim's character because we'd been pretty hush-hush about our plans all week, which meant we had nothing to discuss outside of training. "Posy Moonfall, gnome cleric here. I've got blond shoulder-length hair and grey eyes hidden behind foggy glasses. Well, they're usually quite—. I'm not used to being in the presence of a man of Mr. Deepwood's stature. I'm clumsy, but my intuitive nature makes up for my shortcomings... At least, I think—. Oh gosh. Am I rambling?" Tim replied in a woman's voice. He was surprisingly good at it. I almost forgot my place.

I cleared my throat before continuing. "Clay Everlake, your connection to this bamboo elf is deeply personal. Isn't it?" I asked, nodding at him. I liked Hudson. He always made me laugh and was my favorite of Tim's friends. He also tried to make me feel better about my scars by showing me the dent in his forehead. It wasn't the same, but he genuinely thought it was.

"He raised me. When my family was slaughtered on the outskirts of Malatra, he took me in and raised me. He's a father to me," Hudson answered. Hudson and I locked eyes, and I smiled down at my notes. "I didn't expect to see him under such grim circumstances."

"And Fettar?" I questioned.

"The elf and I… used to date,” Hudman replied. We all laughed.

“Fettar and Theren Everlake dated? You guys were—.”

“A couple. Yep,” Hudman doubled down.

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weskin-time · 1 year

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Jill or Carlos with a S/O that has autism or ADHD? Listening intently to their partners rants and rambles about their hyperfixations or stimming with them when they get too excited or their emotions get too strong

YES! i am on the spectrum so this made me so fucking happy to write you have no idea

Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira with an Autistic S/O HCs

i am. on pain medication from getting my wisdom teeth out today so im sorry if anything makes no sense or there are errors i am just vibing

Jill Valentine

she keeps a pair of ear plugs in her pockets when you two go anywhere just incase

loves to hear you infodump and stim after shes had a rough day. just loves to unwind at home while listening to your voice

and she’ll nod her head, hum in agreement and ask questions when you’re talking. never in a ‘im not fully listening’ she actually loves to see your eyes light up and the happy expression on your face when you talk about a hyperfixation or special interest

she was a little confused when you first visually stimmed but instead of asking you she just followed your movements which made you even more excited

if you get too excited about something where you’re starting to hyperventilate and you feel like you’re going to explode she will open the bedroom door and make you wiggle around on the bed. full body stim so good good yes

will get you little trinkets or gifts from the things you’re obsessed about to show how much she listens and cares

doesn’t mind cooking you your samefood over and over again, it gives her a chance to brush up on her cooking skills plus she loves to cook with you (she kinda sucks at it but it’s okay i love her so much *smooch*)

if you’re starting to get overstimulated in public she quickly learns the early signs and tries to get you away, or you could just tell her “i’m starting to get overstimulated here” and you’re out of wherever you’re at instantly. she can come back another time if there’s something she needs

she keeps every rock, flower, marble or what ever you bring her. she has old police books with pressed flowers you gave her, the rocks are in a jewelry box.

when you start to freak out and have a breakdown she’s sorta at a loss to help but in a split second she runs and grabs your weighted blanket and puts it around your shoulders while getting you your favorite drink. it all depends on you and how you deal but she’s quick to make adjustments

non verbal moments? she will help you make little cards to show your wants and needs and other information.

angry? ripped your shirt in anger? banged your head against a wall? tore some hair out? she will try to help you calm down as best she can and then patch you up. she’ll take safety pins and pin your shirt. she’ll give you an ice pack and some pain relief medicine. she gives you kisses

don’t like a certain texture? boom it’s gone. if you feel it still even after you’ve touched it she’ll bring you your favorite texture

loves it when you sit on her lap and rub your face on her like a cat. she will join you in the face rubbing

food textures you don’t like? give them to her she’ll eat them. don’t like mushrooms bc they’re squishy and weird and make you want to punch a man? she’ll give you a tiny fork to pick them off your pizza and she’s putting it on hers

Carlos Oliveira

he’s an adhd haver

autism and adhd solidarity

when he washes his hair it’s so soft and fluffy and thick that you could sit there and pet his head and rub your fingers thought it for hours. he doesn’t mind at all. he’s sitting there almost purring like a cat

vocal stim echo chamber

y’all can make sounds or words over and over again and just keep bouncing them off each other for hours no matter what you’re going

his beard is also very soft. he keeps very good care of his appearance so it’s not like super scratchy it’s a very good texture please rub your face against it once or twice before kissing his nose

this man can’t cook for shit. normally it’s take out. most of the time y’all develop a samefood at the same restaurant so you two must order the same place for weeks and just get the same food

WILL LAY ON YOU AND CRUSH YOU WITH HIS WEIGHT.!! he loves cuddles so much and now he’s getting cuddles and helping you? his new favorite cuddling position is him laying on top of you while you run your finger through his hair

He’s the one who goes into places and talks to the workers there for you if you need him too. want to order lunch but feeling not up for it to order? tell him what you want he’s got you <3

non verbal moments? he talks enough for the both of you honestly. he knows sign language so you two could take that way or he’ll use cards too. if you text him he will read out your text before responding lol

pillow fort movies/tv show/ video game nights. filled with all that good sensory shit and your favorite snacks and his.

he stims with you. every time. it’s involuntary on his part.

more than likely there is one texture he loves that you hATE. you hate velvet? the first time you come over to his place he had a velvet blanket on his bed.

stocks the fridge with his and your favorite food textures. he likes pudding and cottage cheeses textures

he’s better at preventing meltdowns or breakdowns before they happen than helping you during the act

you two bring each other things. he picked up his paperclip to throw it away but he gained emotional attachment to it and he’s giving it to you bc he doesn’t want to loose his new friend. has all the thing you give him in a shoebox under his bed for safe keeping

one of his favorite stims is running his callused hands up and down your softer skin at a medium pace. he starts out slow before speeding up a bit more. just placing his hand on your body and running it down before picking it up and putting it where he first started. loves if you do a ‘cat making biscuits’ stim on his body while he does that to you

#tezi post #ask!#resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagine #jill valentine imagine #jill valentine x reader #resident evil jill valentine #jill valentine #jill valentine headcanon #carlos oliveria #carlos oliveria x reader #resident evil carlos oliveria #carlos oliveira headcanons

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apples-and-heartbreak · 4 months

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I feel like when I’m reading or watching something, for me to like a hero, they have to

1) have ambition about anything

2) not be annoying

3) not excuse their shitty behaviour with their shitty childhood

4) not be so self-righteous they don’t see their own flaws

For these reasons I hate with a burning passion Jace Herondale, Clary Fairchild, Eli Ever, Tiberius “Cal” Calore VIII, Dean Winchester, and Legend/Dante Santos

Jace is constantly doing something shitty in every book and people don’t care and they just put up with it for some reason. In CoG he belittles Clary because he wants to push her away but keeps coming back to her. He also keeps coming onto Clary when he thought she was his sister and said that cursed sentence in CoG that I need to bleach from my brain. I know if he said that shit to me I would’ve punched him in his stupid face cuz who does he think he is? He mocks the werewolves after they lost a child in their pack, he’s just awful to Alec at times, he doesn’t seem to understand there are consequences to his actions and just does shit because he wants to. He had the emotional maturity of a dried up pinecone.

Clary also does so much shit and people don’t call her out because she’s the protagonist and she just lets Jace do whatever to her because he’s hot. Girl please get a grip. She slut shames Izzy because apparently women aren’t allowed to have a sex life or wear revealing clothing 😒 girl you kissed someone you thought was YOUR BROTHER!! She dated Simon to get over Jace and then kissed Jace in the Seelie Court, and repeatedly thought about Jace in a romantic sense WHILE she thought they were SIBLINGS! I can’t.

Eli is so self-righteous, annoying and hypocritical. He uses God and religion as an excuse to kill innocent people which is just disgusting. Like I get that he thinks being an EO changed a person because Victor became different but he is an EO himself and he just takes it on himself to murder innocent people for simply existing.

Cal has no desire to do anything, at least up to the beginning of King’s Cage he doesn’t (where I currently am). He knows how poorly the Reds are being treated and he doesn’t want to change anything because (and I’m paraphrasing) there would be outrage among the Silvers and a war would break out. Bitch you are already at war! He’s the reason why so many innocent young Reds have lost their lives fighting in a war they have no say in. He sees the Scarlet Guard killing Silvers and he doesn’t try to stop them. He sulks and whines but doesn’t take any real action, which he could if he actually wanted to. He stalks around the camp like Mare’s dog and thinks he’s better than everyone.

Dean Winchester is an abusive asshole. He locked Sam in the cellar when he was addicted to demon blood when he knew the withdrawal could kill him. He shit on Sam for being manipulated. He’s made horrible perverted jokes about women, might I remind y’all of the high school episode (he was at least 26 at the time). He guilted Sam for leaving him in Hell and Purgatory when he did THE EXACT SAME THING when Same went to the cage. He threatened Kaia, a teenager at gun point for his own selfish purposes. He abused Jack til the very end, yelling that he wasn’t family when Jack had sacrificed his soul and life for the Winchesters, and made Jack hate himself for being born. He was shitty to Cas in so many seasons and didn’t care that Cas just went through seeing his son die and wasn’t able to save him. He violated Sam’s body by tricking him into letting Gadreel in which led to the death of Kevin and had the audacity to think he was wronged.

Dante is shit. Julian, his brother, lived with him for centuries, followed him wherever he went and loved him unconditionally. All Julian asked was for Dante to love him back, which he never did. When Julian finally found someone who loved him, Dante made fun of him. And then in the next book he gives up his immortality for Tella, a girl he has known for literal months at most. He didn’t love his brother, who has been with him since the beginning, enough to give up his immortality but he loved this random girl he has known for a couple months at most to give it all up?? Tella should’ve left him in the dust just like she did Jacks and went off on adventures by herself and met someone that wasn’t a twat.

#great poison talks #anti jace herondale #anti clary fairchild #anti clary fray #anti jace lightwood #anti jace wayland #anti cal calore #anti eli ever #anti dante santos #anti legend #anti dean winchester #supernatural #spn #the mortal instruments #vicious ve schwab #caraval #dante santos

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letters-to-rosie · 3 months

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Minutes to Midnight is seriously and envy-inducingly good! But I just want to say that, when you said "one shot of all time", my mind immediately went to you've got your demons, and darling, they all look like me. And then I got reminded of why it's my personal favorite (other than it being plain good, ofc): the summary. A well-written fic is a well-written fic, obviously, but the perfect summary really adds to the experience. Like how it catches your eye and makes your heart race because you know that an author who can write such a summary... well. They also can and probably did write a fic that blows your clothes off and turns them inside out before sending them to the hamper. It's about the anticipation.

Ahem, so anyway. I started thinking about how few words one needs to evoke an emotional response, and I wanted to share my excitement about that.

ahhhh thanks for the recommendation!!

I'mma use this as a little bit more time to gush over Minutes to Midnight just because, and then gush over you've got your demons as well because oh man. thank you for sending it my way!!

Ekko is my favorite character, but I am also a big fan of making him Worse, and I love how Minutes to Midnight does it in a way that feels so authentic. like I can extrapolate him right away from what we see in the show. and this is the only fic I can think of that really takes it to such an extreme, but again it's done so compellingly that it really feels like a Jinx version of Ekko, even if Jinx remains similarly filled with rage. there are just so many lines I love and I could list them all day but when it culminates at the end, tying together the time themes and the regret and the betrayal it's just... I love it so much

one line for fun: She’s bleeding, choking, underneath him, and he hits her, and hits her, don’t you get it, I could have done this anytime I wanted but I didn’t, I didn’t, I gave you my life and you threw it back in my face, even as she claws at him alley-cat-desperate.

every time I read it, I'm just in my room, actually screaming lol

and now for you've got your demons!!!!

there were also a ton of lines I could have pulled out but then we'd be here all day but

Dark against light - though the light has always been Ekko. i cry She chose him long before he chose her. i cry endlessly Powder never asks Vi her favorite color, because she doesn’t know what she’d do if she didn’t say the same thing Ekko did. a never-ending stream

but man it's just so stunning. like you said, I love how few words it uses to get its story across. getting to read prose that packs that sort of punch is always so special. Powder/Jinx is just so relatable and you really feel her struggles come through. her tangle of confusion and not getting things like marriage really resonated with my ace self (and I always enjoy an ace-spec Jinx). but her crush was so precious I just wanted to hug her and let her be happy with Ekko and maybe my delusional ass can imagine that they are someday in that fic universe lol

and the way the summary gets entirely recontextualized at the end????? INCREDIBLE truly a one-shot of all time. we have to make it an indefinite article now lmao

I got super lucky because the author of "you've got your demons" wrote my gift for the secret santa we just had!! that fic is called Moonlight Refuge and let me tell you if it didn't convey every emotion I wanted, which is the "I should want nothing to do with you but I can't help myself" part of timebomb, and in this one it's mutual and just fantastic. I spent like half my comment writing AHHH because the emotions were just everywhere it was a good time

also hi @cranechel we're in the corner gushing over your fic... I will leave a comment soon but wanted to answer this lol

#asks #arcane #fanfiction #timebomb #ekko #jinx #ekkojinx #go read the fics #they are great #then sign a petition to stopkosa if you're in the us okay love you bye #also if anyone else wants to send me their one-shot of all time plz feel free lol

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fallenlightsif · 11 months

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Here's an example of a 500-word commission as I finish my ko-fi and patron commissions. They're available on my ko-fi.

“Hand me the bone shavings,” Rowan says, squinting down into the bowl they’re using for mixing.

You survey the assorted jars and bottles and reach for one filled with a powdered white substance.

“No, no. That’s bone powder.” They correct you, reaching across you to grab a jar you’d missed off to the side, “These are bone shavings.”

“Is there an important difference?” Your brows furrow, “And…whose bones?”

“It’s not a human’s bones. Likely deer or cattle.” Rowan gives you a dry but amused glance, “And when it comes to a potion that causes erosion, shavings are a necessity. The powder doesn’t pack the same punch, so to speak.”

You’re perched on a stool next to them, watching them crush and heat and stir. Ingredients are strewn about Rowan’s workspace, and you enjoy seeing them in their element.

“Don’t you crush them up regardless?” You raise an eyebrow, giving the mortar and pestle a pointed look.

“They’re melted, not crushed.” Rowan corrects, lighting a fire beneath the mixing bowl without even snapping their fingers.

Their magical aptitude is…breathtaking. You’d been told you were a powerhouse all your life, and you can only surmise that Rowan is at your level or higher in terms of raw magical potential.

“What do you plan on using an erosion potion on?” You freeze briefly, eyes widening, “People?”

Rowan pauses in their actions, looking at you incredulously, “Really? People?”

“It’s a fair assumption,” You flush red, “I saw you summon a spirit inside a man’s chest one time. He exploded.”

Rowan blinks, “I did do that, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.” You huff, crossing your arms, “So I think my question was warranted.”

“You might be correct,” They concede, which is a rarity in and of itself, “To clarify, the use of an erosion potion can be to eat through castle gates, render weapons ineffective…things of that nature.”

“Ah.” You brows raise, “Alchemy is…more useful than I imagined.”

“So it is,” Rowan gives you a small smile, “I’m glad our chats can be enlightening.”

“I come here for more than chatting,” You say, before realizing exactly how that sounds and feeling the heat rush to your face.

“Oh? And what else do you come here for?” Rowan raises an eyebrow, their full and undivided attention now placed solely on you.

“Um,” You swallow, glancing away, “You, I suppose.”

They blink, their face softening just a bit. Their potion is forgotten as they turn toward you.

“And I’m thankful you do,” They admit quietly, “I enjoy your presence, even if you only pester me with questions.”

“I can always go pester Orion.” You offer.

“Perish the thought.” They wave a hand, their smirk bordering on playful, “I’ll keep my inept assistant here at my side.”

“Inept?” You can’t help a quiet laugh, “Apologies if my lack of skill in alchemy is too much of a burden.”

You had meant it playfully, yet all traces of amusement flee Rowan’s face at the words.

“You’re not a burden, never a burden.” They say firmly, golden eyes flashing with some unknown emotion.

It’s clear the words has some baggage, at the very least. So you nod, and they turn back to their work. From your view of their profile, you can see the beginnings of a deep red flushing along the tips of their ears and you know their unintentional vulnerability was not something only you noticed.

When they ask for the next ingredient, charcoal, you pass them the jar with a shy grin. Your fingers brush theirs and they pause for a moment longer than necessary, just staring at the place where your hands touch.

You feel warm all over from the briefest graze against them, and you aren’t watching their potion for the rest of the evening. Instead, your eyes are locked on their face; the curve of their smirk, the furrow of their brows. You find you’re quite happy to stay exactly where you are.

#fallenlightsif #rowan lozano #commission #posting this to kick stuff off #more content coming in a few ;)

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elapsed-spiral · 1 year

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OFMD fic recs (2022)

I've been thinking about compiling a fic recs list for a while but I have this slight problem where I never bookmark anything, I just assume I'll remember the titles of things I like and mostly I don't, because my memory is bad. It's not a great system tbh.

So, here's a very incomplete list of Flag fics I enjoyed in 2022. Everything is Ed/Stede save where I’ve stated otherwise.

baby, would you find that so odd? by @eluciferate (T): I think about the last paragraph of this fic often, it's beautiful.

but that's none of my business by @chaotic-neutral-knitter (T): I wish I'd had this idea, it's so simple but so funny and well executed.

teeth marks by morian (M): my weakness is Ed POV angst fics and this may be my favourite. It's a reunion fic with a great premise, packs a massive emotional punch and their eventual forgiveness of one another feels earned. I really enjoy how Stede is written in this.

all you left me was a pearl by JustStandingHere (M): there's dialogue and ideas in this fic which I am confident will be better than those that actually make it into season two - sorry Mr Jenkins. The best reunion fic I've read, really in keeping with the show, which I appreciate.

late night talking (Stede/Lucius) / played it so nonchalant (Stede/Lucius/Ed) by ephemeralgrime (both E): possibly my absolute favourite fic(s) in the fandom. So funny, well written and convincing. Stede apologising for how strong he is during sex by explaining that he got into cycling after his divorce… unparalleled characterisation.

love me by the hour by getmean (E): love the rich, sensual writing style and how the pair of them are absolutely obsessed with one another.

Transformative Work by @mia-ugly, @pinehutch (E) (variations on Olu/Frenchie/Jim): I don’t understand how anyone can write anything this clever, to be honest. It feels like a well earned victory lap of a fic. The most interesting Frenchie characterisation I’ve come across.

caught in a waking dream by whatkindofman (E): I love this look at how class issues have shaped Ed. I am always coming back to the heart wrenching part where Stede asks what fantasies of romance Ed had when he was young and Ed thinks about how he and his mother would lie in bed at night, waiting for “her husband” to return.

Wayfaring by JustKeepTrekking (E): one of the first longer Flag fics I read and really enjoyed. Who doesn’t love a well written desert island fic?

Haunt You Down by @yeats-infection (E): I normally need a happy ending to my Flag fics but I make an exception for fics this good. Brilliant premise, OCs you care about, great humour mixed with devastating angst. This should have ten times the reads.

we were the same by @focusfixated (E) (Ed/Jack, Ed/Izzy, Ed/Stede): another in the handful of devastating fics I've really enjoyed. The Ed/Jack chapter is absolutely my favourite flavour for that pairing. The Ed/Stede is especially affecting, with a unique take on their reunion.

damage ensued and tabloid news by @eluciferate (E) (Mary/Ed): Mary and Ed have hot sex where they play around with gender while waiting for that Steve guy to show up or whatever. Brilliant, ten more of these please.

to his bones by wrizard (E): it's between me and god, how many times I've read this. Heed the tags, this won't be for everyone.

#what I'm taking from this is if you give your fic a lowercase title it's one of those box propped up with a stick style traps for me #Ofmd #Our flag means death

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 8 months

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Chapter 4 of Framing Escobar - Javi P x F!Reader. Left Reeling

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog festuring porn with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific Warnings: My terrible Spanish (I'm still learning) Some canon-typical violence/threat, no smut, lots of plot.

Word count 3.1k Read on AO3 Drop me a Tip on Ko-Fi

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Left Reeling

You find yourself sat on a plane to Medellín, fingers drumming nervously against the arm rest as you try to settle down. Already you’re back in the air, the second time on a plane ever, and the second time in a week no less. The flight is packed but by some stroke of luck you have the row to yourself.

You’re exhausted, only managing a few hours of sleep last night and the early flight meant you were up at the crack of dawn. You feel like ass. Your hand is swollen and stiff, and you want to sleep but the flight is only an hour, so you decided on practicing your Spanish instead. You thumb through the flash cards and notebook you use to study but none of it is going in.

“Hey,” Javier’s voice rumbles from the aisle and you sigh, you look at him with as little emotion as you can muster but your traitorous heart flutters at the sight of him, “I come in peace.” He says as he holds his hands up in front of him in surrender. He was wearing a tight short sleeve white shirt and dark blue jeans, his signature aviators perched on the end of his nose.

“What do you want Peña?” You grumble, secretly relishing the distraction, but you’re still bitter, and you still feel ashamed, naïve. Not because he fucked a prostitute, no, that part doesn’t bother you, it was that you feel used, discarded.

“I want to apologise,” He starts as he gestures to the seat next to you, “May I?”

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Nope.” He says triumphantly and flops down in the seat next to you. You smell his cologne, cigarettes, and that same earthy musk you could still smell on your sheets this morning. You push the thought aside, you don’t want to think about him this way, not anymore.

“Let’s hear it.” You say as you study the mauve smudge that had spread all the way up to his cheekbone. You actually felt a little bad, but not enough to truly feel sorry.

“I won’t apologise about what you saw between me and Helena, our relationship is,” He pauses, trying to find the right words as he takes off his sunglasses, “Complicated.”

“Didn’t seem that complicated to me,” You bite back but you sigh, flexing your hand again as it rubs against the bandage, you’d re-dressed it before boarding and it wasn’t as well wrapped as Connie’s handiwork, “Look, I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier, I haven’t been sleeping well and I was probably more than a little high on solvents from cleaning.”

“But not sorry for punching me?” He smirks, clearly appreciating your candour. The curve of his lips and the small dimple reminding you just how easily he made you smile in return.

“Oh no, you definitely deserved that.” You say, cocking an eyebrow as he rolls his eyes at you. You like him, you really do, but you can’t trust him.

“I’ll admit, I did come on a little strong last night,” He shrugs and looks down at you, “But Helena needs to get out of this damned country and I’m doing everything to help her.”

“By screwing her?” Your bluntness draws a chuckle from him, and the sound softens your heart a little. You try not to give in to the compulsion to forgive him, to give into the desire that still burned for him.

“She doesn’t let me pay her, but pillow talk is an interesting chance to learn about the other business associates she meets with.” He says, his voice low, you can hear the conflict in his tone and instinctively you put your hand on his arm. The pain shoots through your knuckles but you don’t pull away and neither does Javi, he looks down at your hand then back up to your eyes.

“I hope you can get her out Javier, I really do.” You say softly.

“I prefer it when you call me Javi.” He whispers as he leans in hovering over you as you shudder under him.

“Fuck off Peña,” You growl as you pool what’s left of your resolve to reject him, you want to just let him touch you, kiss you, make you moan up into his lips, but you won’t let him, “Go back to your seat.”

“Sí chica,” he flashes you a smile as he pulls back, “But we need to talk, properly, after we’re back in Bogotá.”

“Sure Javi,” You wink at him as he stands, disarming him as he shakes his head at you, “See you later.”

The rest of the flight was uneventful as you try to put Javier Peña out of your mind. You are still mad, but more at yourself for being so obsessive over a man you had only just met, whom you barely know. But you are a little less angry at him now you understood the situation a little better.

I won’t forgive him, not yet, but I don’t hate him.

You think as you manage to relax a little, closing your eyes for the rest of the short flight.

***

You sit at the chair you had brought to the window, you use a bible and towels to make an improvised tripod, wedging a book of matches under the camera on top of the Bible to adjust the angle of the camera. You know that Steve and Javi are on the other side of the hotel with Carrillo, the head of the Search Bloc. He had been cool in his reception of you when you arrived.

You attach the remote shutter cord and sit, waiting for the first of the Narcos to arrive. You don’t have to wait long but immediately you see a flaw in your tripod plan. You’ve got the wrong angle. You curse under your breath and tear off the bandage, the material discarded onto the floor as you grip the camera in both hands. You fumble with the dials to adjust the shutter speed, cursing as you see that you’ve already missed a few shots.

You wince at the pain pulsing through your hand but you’re taking shots as fast as you can, adjusting the focus where necessary but your prep work is good enough that there are only minor adjustments to be made. Every press of the shutter release sends fire through your arm, you’re bleeding from your knuckles and the metallic tang of blood, sweat, and the cheap air freshener in the room blends like a noxious gas over you. You had no idea who the people are as you snap away, training in on faces and cars where you could. You go through six reels and are winding in the seventh when you see them pull up, these two men you recognise.

Through the lens you see the slightly portly frame of Pablo Escobar, you focus on his face and he practically looks straight at you as you click the shutter control. You next focus on Gustavo, his lithe, ruthless brother. His hat and glasses obscure most of his face but you make do with the angle you have.

You fill the reel with just the pair before you flop back with a sigh, your brow slick with sweat. You consider loading another film but it’s clear, the guests of honour are here, everyone else had arrived before them. You slump back onto the floor of the hotel room and let out a shaky breath and pop a few Tylenol and chug on your flask of cool water. You look down to the camera to see rivulets of blood running down the body and you curse. You take it into the bathroom and use toilet paper to pat it down.

Only after you make sure the camera is ok do you wash your hands and get the small first aid kit out. The skin has split open further and the wounds are bleeding freely. Your knuckles are slick with blood and you curse your own stupidity.

Idiot, should have kept the bandage on.

You scold yourself but patch yourself up the best you can, using up the last of the bandages in your first aid kit around your sore knuckles. You secure it with medical tape and take out the last film, stowing it in the secret pocket within the camera bag. You pack up your equipment, taking the bloodied bandage with you and setting the room back up as you found it.

You flopped onto the lavish double bed. Steve and Javi said they’d come get you once they knew the coast was clear. You let yourself close your eyes for a moment, the events of the last forty-eight hours catch you unawares as you fall asleep almost instantly.

***

You wake suddenly, it’s pitch black, you rub your eyes with your uninjured hand and get up to turn the lights on. You check your watch and it’s ten minutes after midnight. You feel the blood drain from your face as you realise something must have gone wrong.

You sit and wait for a while, there had been no contingency for you, there’s no backup plan. You pace, fear gnawing at you as you try not to panic. A knock at the door startles you from your thoughts but as you reach the door you grab the revolver from your bag. You snap the barrel open, checking it spins smoothly before closing it, you hold it left-handed, but at this range that didn’t really matter.

“Hola, quien esta ahi?” You piece together your rusty Spanish in a panic as you look through the peep hole to see two Search Bloc uniforms in the hallway. Something about it doesn’t sit right and you tense as they announce themselves.

“Soy Vasquez.” The first voice calls.

“Soy Gutierrez.” The second responds in turn but you can’t ignore the sick twist in your stomach, Javi and Steve were supposed to be the ones to get you, no-one else.

“¿A quién informas Vasquez?” You ask, hoping your terrible Spanish doesn’t give too much away as you ask who they report to.

“Colonel Carrillo, Por favor ven con nosotras.” Vasquez says firmly, clearly getting impatient but your gut tells you to refuse these men.

“No, lo siento, no te conozco.” You reply, you don’t recognise their voices, nor their names.

“Please, miss.” Vasquez breaks into English to try and console you, but it only makes you more suspicious.

If they know who you are, why aren’t they using your name?

“If you want me out of this room, you’ll bring the blonde Gringo to me. No exceptions.” You negotiate through the door.

“Puta mierda.” Vasquez grunts but you hear the pair leave without a word. You wait for another painful twenty minutes until another knock at the door launches you to your feet.

“Hey hon, it’s me.” The sound of Steve’s voice almost drives you to tears, the tension of the evening finally easing. You gather your things, then check to see if Steve is alone through the peep hole. He is. You practically rip the door open to his stern face.

“Sorry Steve, I just couldn’t trust that they were legit.” You breathe, trying not to fumble over your words as the coil of nerves unwound in your belly. It’s Steve’s turn to look worried as he quickly scans the hallway, eyes darting wildly before he speaks.

“Trust who?” He looks at you with concern and a pit opens up in your stomach.

“The Search Bloc guys? They were just here.” You say with wide eyes as you see the colour leave Steve’s face.

“They get a good look at you?” He asks urgently as he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you down the hall. You wince a little as he jostles your hand but you don’t say anything, staying alive was worth the discomfort.

“No I didn’t open the door.” You respond breathlessly, panic making your voice weak.

“Good, you give them your name?” He asks as you turn a corner and slip into the stairwell.

“No, I did call you the blonde Gringo though.” You admit with a sheepish grin as you realise that could have been a slip up but Steve nods. You hurry down the concrete stairwell, not daring to look back, not even for a second. Sweat pours down your face, soaking your clothes, making your boots rub against your ankles.

“That’s fine, isn’t that much to go on, but if they did connect the dots, I’m already on their shit list so don’t sweat that hon.” He says as you hit the ground floor. He pauses at the double doors that lead into the lobby and you almost crash into him, but you catch yourself at the last minute.

“Ok, so what the fuck happened?” You ask with a hiss as you head into the lobby, it was full of cartel guys. The hardware on their hips and the genuine Rolexes on their wrists told you as much. You try not to make eye contact with any of them, opting to focus on the glass doors ahead of you.

“Javi’s girl got into some serious trouble,” he leans down to whisper into your ear, “She’s in the hospital and it’s not great.” You swallow hard at the realisation and try to keep a steady pace but you notice two cartel guys looking you and Steve up and down with suspicion. One guy in particular, greasy hair, pencil moustache seems to take specific interest. A hand reaches for the sub-machine gun on his hip and you panic.

“Steve, play along.” You warn before you spin him to face you. You hook your arms round his neck and pull his tall frame down to you. You press your lips into his and you try not to think about how strange it felt as you tried to play the part. His hands slide down to your ass, grabbing softly with both hands. You press your tongue against the seam of his lips and he obliges, deepening the kiss superficially as you lifelessly flop your tongue into his mouth.

You should feel ashamed, kissing a married man, but you were too terrified to care. All that matters was getting out of there alive.

“This is unexpected.” He breathes against your cheek before he kisses your neck lightly, there’s no feeling in it, and you’re glad of that.

“Yeah well if we look like drunk tourists, we’re less likely to be shot right?” You breathe back as you pull away, stumbling back as you giggle loudly.

“Oh Jerry, come on let’s go smoke.” You say loudly, pulling Steve with you as you stumble through the lobby.

“Yes ma’am.” He grins as he follows you out, you look out of the corner of your eye and relax as you see the Cartel guys look away. It was convincing enough to you, and it seems enough to let you slip away.

“That was quick thinking, nice one kid.” Steve laughs as you head down the street away from the hotel. His face is slick with sweat as he offers you a cigarette but you refuse, your lungs are already burning with exhaustion.

“Honestly I thought I was about to die, I’m fucking shaken up.” You admit as you try not to vibrate as you walked. You check your camera bag, all rolls accounted for, and your gun stowed safely. You should feel calm, but the adrenaline coursing through you won’t let up.

“You’ll get sort of, kinda, used to that.” Steve admits softly as you walk through the streets of Medellín. The cool night air helps clear your head a little, soothing the tension in your chest, and the ache in your hand.

“We’re getting on the next flight out of here ok hon?” Steve says as you round the corner to a brightly lit part of the side streets, you see the outline of Carrillo and Javier up ahead and your heart catches in your throat at the sight of him.

“You two ready to ship out?” Javier asks as he notices you, you swear he lets out a sigh of relief, but it’s dark and you put it down to wishful thinking and adrenaline overload.

“Yes boss.” The phrase is out of your mouth before you could help it and Steve’s groan is audible behind you.

“You’ve done it now hon, his ego is going to be insufferable now.” Steve sighs as Carrillo gets into the driver seat of the truck, Javi leans up towards Steve, and he says something in a hushed tone before Steve nods and climbs into the front passenger seat. You open the back driver-side door and hop in, Javier slides in a second after you and immediately his hand is on yours, holding it gently as he pulls you against him.

You want to be mad, you want to push him away and tell him to never touch you again. But you don’t. You’re exhausted and the unexpected delicate natured embrace of Javier Peña in the dark backseat of the truck is just the thing you need to soothe your nerves. He doesn’t move to touch you in any other way than just to pin you against him.

“I’m sorry about the last few days,” Javier whispers in your ear as you hear the strain filter through his usual bravado, “I’m not promising anything about the future, or me, but would you consider giving me another shot?”

“I’ll sleep on it, Peña.” You say as dryly as you can muster. You already want to say yes, but you also want to make sure this wasn’t guilt or regret after what happened to Helena tonight. You felt childish and stupid about your outburst now, but you try not to dwell on it.

“Then sleep.” He grumbles as he rests his chin on top of your head with a wince as he adjusts for his swollen jaw. But he’s right, you’re exhausted, and it only takes a few seconds before you’re fast asleep. The oddly comforting smell of tobacco, whiskey, and Javi enveloping you in a sensory blanket as you fall asleep in Javier Peña’s arms for a second time, and you hope it won’t be the last.

Thanks for reading and follow @twwaktnotifs for updates on my work!

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biandlesbianliterature · 1 year

Text

I posted 67 times in 2022

50 posts created (75%)

17 posts reblogged (25%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@biandlesbianliterature

@sapphicbookclub

@lgbtqreads

@lesbrary

@shiraglassman

I tagged 50 of my posts in 2022

Only 25% of my posts had no tags

#queer books - 38 posts

#sapphic books - 34 posts

#lgbtq books - 33 posts

#reviews - 26 posts

#wlw books - 23 posts

#lesbian books - 15 posts

#sff - 12 posts

#author of color - 9 posts

#fantasy - 8 posts

#romance - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 30 characters

#getting the band back together

My Top Posts in 2022:

143 notes - Posted March 17, 2022

Ryka Aoki’s Light from Uncommon Stars is one of the best books I read in 2021, and it is also one of the weirdest. It centers around three women: Shizuka Satomi (a violin teacher who made a deal with a devil and must deliver seven violin prodigies’ souls in order to save her own), Katrina Nguyen (a transgender teenage girl, wildly talented on the violin and deserving of so much more than she has been given), and Lan Tran (a retired interstellar space captain who runs a donut shop with her four children). When Shizuka discovers Katrina in a park, she immediately knows she has found her final soul, but Shizuka’s growing feelings for Lan may change her perspective on everything.

If you think that summary sounds like a roller coaster, wait until you read the book.

Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki was reviewed at the Lesbrary

155 notes - Posted January 15, 2022

Would you believe that more than 26 sapphic books come out this month? It’s true! Unfortunately, it’s not always easy to find out which books have queer representation, or what kind of representation they have. So here’s a big list of bi and lesbian books out this month, sorted by genre.

26 Bi and Lesbian Books Out November 2022!

217 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

If you want a teen romcom in an F/F YA book, this is the read for you!

It’s enemies to lovers and fake dating! It is very much like a teen romcom movie: the two of them get to know each other over their music choices on the drive. They have miscommunication. They both open up about their insecurities. Scottie realizes that, despite being hung up on her toxic ex, maybe the girl she’s been looking for has been right in front of her this whole time. There’s also the “only one bed” trope. They even discuss teen romcom movies!

I listened to this as an audiobook, and it was a quick, fun listening experience! It’s cute, and the ending is cathartic and sweet.

She Drives Me Crazy by Kelly Quindlen was reviewed at the Lesbrary

267 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

When I say I want sapphic romcoms, this is what I want. I want sapphic romcoms that pack an emotional punch. That present the diversity and the affinity of queer womanhood. That have queer women who call themselves queer with no explanation and bi women who have loved men. That have complex family dynamics that both are about queerness and absolutely are not. That feel like romance novels with romance tropes and everything that we love about romance and are at the same time fundamentally, intrinsically, profoundly, and lovingly queer. Romcoms that f*ck and also fall in love. Romcoms with real, wild emotions and feminism and humor on every page. Romcoms that were written for queer women about our own lives, to be enjoyed only secondarily by everyone else. When I say I want sapphic romcoms, I mean I want this book.

Delilah Green Doesn’t Care by Ashley Herring Blake was reviewed at the Lesbrary

275 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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awhitehead17 · 9 months

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Just for once, please let me forget

Dick & Jason, Dick & Wally, Angst, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Drunk Dick, Emotional Hurt/Comfort.

Summary: There's one inevitable day every year that Dick dreads. This day being the death anniversary of his parents. Even now, after so many years have passed by, he still doesn't know how to deal with his emotions and this year he slips up, turning to unhealthy coping mechanisms to help him get through the day.

A/N: This story is for my 'Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms' square on my Bad Things Happen Bingo card.

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

The day he dreads every year has inevitably come around once again. No matter how much he wishes to, it isn’t a day he could ever forget.

Despite all the years that have now been by, waking up on this day isn’t any easier than it had been the first time. He still gets hit with overwhelming emotion, tears that instantly well up in his eyes and threaten to fall, his chest tightens as it’s hard to breathe as he remembers what happened.

Today is the anniversary of his parents deaths.

Today is the day that so many years ago completely changed his life. What happened ripped everything he knew and cherished away from him in a violent and brutal manner. A young child left orphaned without a chance to say good bye. The last thing he remembers is the fear and the screams of his parents as they fell to their deaths, it was an ‘accident’ that was anything but.

Clenching his teeth Dick tries to shake those thoughts from his mind. They’re the same ones he has every year when he wakes up on the morning of this particular date. He’s currently in bed, in the bedroom of one of his safehouses in Gotham City, a current placement while he covers for Bruce and other family members who are on a mission elsewhere. Thankfully he’s alone so no one can see how much he’s falling apart right now.

After waking up he stays in bed for some time, not having the energy to get up or any reason to get motivated. He wallows in misery for the rest of the morning until he becomes to restless to stay in bed. Once up he now feels the pent up energy in full force and tries to decide what to do with himself. Unfortunately his mind won’t shut off, his brain replaying traumatizing scenes over and over again, and Dick knew he needed to do something that would switch his mind off from the horrid thoughts.

Eventually making a decision Dick heads out with the intention of going to the manor, hopefully there he can find someone loitering around that he can bother.

When he arrives he's surprised to only find Jason at the manor. Damian must be with Jon or Colin somewhere, Tim is probably with the Titans or with Benard (are those two dating?), Cass is on a mission with Babs, he has no idea about Duke or Steph, Alfred isn’t around either so he’s most likely out doing errands or spending some quality time alone since Bruce isn’t around for him to babysit.

Jason is in the cave tinkering with a variety of gadgets and equipment. Without giving any warning Dick storms up to the workbench, slams his hands down and pins Jason with a look. “Spar with me.”

To his credit Jason doesn’t startle at his sudden appearance but he does freeze and gives Dick a long stare.

It’s only now he’s in front of the younger man that Dick knows what he’s really after. He wants to be distracted, both in mind and body, he needs something else to help him forget the emotional pain he’s currently experiencing. He can change the pain from emotional to physical… at least with physical pain he knows how to deal with it. He knows how to treat his body after a good workout which leaves him physically exhausted, bruised and sore. Jason packs a good punch and doesn't hold back during sparring, he’s the perfect person for this situation.

The younger man continues to stare and not say anything in response. It takes all of Dick’s restraint to not lash out at him from impatience. Moments tick by and just as Dick thinks he’s about to snap Jason places the tool he’s holding down and stands up, his gaze never leaving Dick.

“Alright. Give me fifteen to change and warm up.”

Dick bites his tongue to stop himself from demanding they just get on with it. He’s here to hurt himself, not to hurt Jason. No one else needs to be hurt because of him.

Twenty minutes they’re on the training mats facing one another with their fists raised and stood in defensive stances.

It’s not enough.

As they trade punches and kicks Dick still struggles to switch his mind off. No matter what he’s still reminded of that day so many years ago. He needs that pain to be numbed, he needs to not remember…

Dick lets Jason get several hits in; he lets the younger man tackle him to the ground, lets him put him into a choke hold and doesn't tap out, he lets Jason wind him from a kick he could have easily blocked. All these things has Dick’s body burning from use and pain but it still isn’t enough. Maybe he should have suggested they use weapons too instead of just hand to hand.

After a couple hours of this, on and off sessions in that time, Jason calls it quits with a dark scowl on his face.

“Enough. What the fuck is wrong with you?” He demands from his side of the mat.

Dick clenches he teeth and acts clueless. “What do you mean? Why do you want to stop? Is someone getting tired…”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Jason swears, “you aren’t even fighting back. You’re letting me strike you and pin you down when you could easily overpower me. You’re not trying.”

Dick scowls. Of course Jason is right but Dick isn’t going to admit that. “Maybe I’m just having an off day.”

“You don’t have off days. What’s going on?”

If Dick hadn’t been plagued with raging emotions he would’ve picked up on Jason’s concerned tone, nonetheless it sails right over his head and he goes on the defensive side.

“Of course I fucking do. Everyone does. Just ‘cus you paint me as some ‘golden boy’ doesn't actually mean I am one. So fuck you Jason, I just thought we could have a good friendly spar but apparently not.”

Without saying anything more Dick turns and leaves the training area, leaving behind a baffled and gaping Jason.

Sparing with Jason hasn’t done anything to help with his situation, it’s only achieved a small, aching burn throughout his body. He’s going to need to do something else to get through the rest of the day, he doesn't want to remember, he needs the pain to be numbed but the question is how does he achieve that now? Sparring didn’t work so what other options does he have left?

====

Dick is drunk. Absolutely hammered out of his mind. One moment he had been driving away from the manor after a frustrating sparring session with Jason and then in the next he’s in a hidden bar within the city downing shots like it’s going out of fashion.

Dick doesn’t know what drove him to seek out a bar, alcohol more specifically, but for the first time that day his mind is clear of thoughts and he’s at peace. He’s finally achieved what he's been after all day.

Suddenly there’s another glass filled with strong smelling amber liquid being placed in front of him. Dick blinks but by the time he looks up the barman has already moved onto another customer. Huh. He can’t remember ordering another drink however not protesting at the sight of it he picks up the glass, that’s after nearly knocking it over because he misjudged the distance, and raises it to his lips. Just as it’s about to reach his mouth a hand appears out of nowhere and covers the top of the glass making Dick unable to drink any of its contents. Dick frowns and before he could do anything about it the same hand removes the glass from his hand and places it away from him.

Feeling annoyed he's been denied the pleasant burn of alcohol Dick turns to his unknown companion. He has to pause a second later though because the movement causes the room to spin and it takes a moment for Dick to get his senses together. Eventually he sees the person who dared to disturb him.

It’s Jason. Dick’s mood sours at the sight of the younger man. He hadn’t wanted to be around Dick earlier and now he’s brothering him here. What the fuck does he want?

“I think that's enough drinking for one night.” Jason says evenly, it makes Dick glare at him. Who does he think he is by telling Dick what he can and can’t do…

“The fact that you’re speaking your thoughts out loud tells me enough Dick. I have no idea how much you have drunk but you’re done.” The younger man pauses, giving the elder a once over with a concerned gaze. “What is going on with you? First the sparring and now the excessive drinking. This isn’t you Dick.”

Dick bristles at the comments. He doesn't have to explain himself. “How’d you find me?” He asks instead. Jason’s come along and ruined his peaceful drinking.

Jason says something but it’s lost to Dick as suddenly two Jason’s appear before him, he blinks several times wondering when Jason got a twin until they merge together and Dick is staring at the one and only Jason Todd once again.

“Jesus christ you’re in a state. C’mon, we’re getting out of here.”

Dick loses track of time once again because all of a sudden he finds himself being manhandled out of the bar and into an alleyway outside the building. Dick makes an aggravated sound, which sounds more like a whine, and tries to shove Jason off of him.

“Piss off…”

Jason’s hold on him is strong and with Dick’s feeble attempts to get rid of him he isn’t going anywhere.

“Why do you care?” Dick abruptly shouts. “You didn’t earlier! What do you want?”

The younger man stops and turns to face Dick with an unreadable expression on his face. “I do care Dick, I always have done even if I’m not the best at showing it. Right now we’re not having this conversation until you’re sober, rested, and in a better frame of mind because there is something serious going on with you. You never act like this.”

Dick groans at his words. “Well perhaps you don’t really know me!”

Jason narrows his eyes at Dick with suspicion. “Whatever feelings you are trying to bury, getting black out drunk isn’t going to help.”

“It helps for a while,” Dick points out before continuing on, “what do you suggest I do then? Go around killing criminals and shoving their heads into a duffle bag? ‘Cause that sounds much better doesn’t it.”

It goes dead silent between them. Dick blinks waiting for Jason’s response as Jason simply stares back at him in clear shock. Several beats go by before either man speaks up again.

Jason grits his teeth and clenches his fists. “That was uncalled for and I have no response to that. But-”

Whatever else Jason was going to say it’s lost to Dick because out of nowhere his stomach lurches and he bends over to throw up all over the floor, the excessive amount of alcohol he drank earlier making a reappearance.

When he gets a moment to breathe he slumps down to the floor, his legs no longer having the strength to keep him upright, and he leans back against the wall next to his disgusting smelling vomit.

After that the tears start and Dick just feels like shit. He doesn't know why he’s now crying, it’s probably to do with how his emotions are currently all over the place. His head hurts. His stomach hurts. There’s a disgusting feeling in his mouth.

He doesn't know how much time passes once he’s on the floor. Everything blends together and Dick wishes he would simply pass out or something, he just wants the day to finally end, for this pain to finally stop.

A gentle voice and a soft hand touching his cheek breaks Dick out of the spell he had fallen into. He startles at the touch and has to breathe deeply so he doesn’t throw up again.

“Easy Dick it’s just me. I’m here buddy. God what’s going on pal, what have you done to yourself?”

Knowing the voice but not yet registering who it is Dick pulls a face, he blinks and looks up and is surprised to find his best friend crouching beside him. His unruly ginger hair standing out against the dark of the night, his freckled face frowning in concern.

“Wally?”

“You with me bud?”

Reaching out to touch him, Wally sees the movement and gently grasps Dick’s hand with his own.

“Why are you here?” Then out the blue Dick remembers something and guilt instantly builds up inside him. “Shouldn’t you be out with Linda? Why are you here?”

Wally cups his face and squeezes his hand, pinning Dick with a determined look. “I’m right where I need to be. My best friend is struggling and I’m here for him.”

“How…” Dick doesn't finish the question as Wally shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter. Now c’mon lets get you home and into bed. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

Unlike with Jason, this time Dick goes willingly and easily. Wally hauls him up to his feet and makes sure to steady him once up right, throwing an arm around his waist and placing Dick’s arm over his shoulders.

As they start making their way out of the alley Wally speaks lowly to him. “I know what today is bud, I know why you've done what you have to cope with it. I’m not saying it’s okay, Jason’s told me what occurred, but I’m saying I understand. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow but you should have known you could have called me. I know Bruce isn’t around as he usually is on this date, I’m sorry you felt like you had to deal with this alone.”

There’s no judgment in his voice and his words make Dick tear up. Unable to control himself the tears start streaming down his face and a choked sob breaks out of his throat. “I’m sorry… I don’t… I just couldn’t – I’m sorry.”

Wally lets him cry out his emotions, not that Dick could do anything else but, and together they make the slow walk back to Dick’s safehouse together.

His head is pounding and even in his drunken state he knows he’s going to wake up the next morning rough, and it won’t be just from a hangover but also from the onslaught of emotions he’s experiences that day.

In only a way a best friend can, Wally helps to distract Dick from his thoughts and when they eventually make it to his safehouse he helps him get ready for bed. Their years of friendship means this kind of situation is no longer embarrassing but instead is comfortable, they’ve seen each other in all kinds of states at this point, this nothing to them (although the context behind the situation is a cause for concern).

Thankfully once Dick is settled in bed he’s out like a light and Wally stays behind making sure he’s okay and safe even long after he’s fallen asleep. The speedster makes a plan for the following morning to broach the sensitive topic of what made Dick go into a self-destructive mode for the day and how they can deal with it afterwards. It’ll be a long conversation but by now they’ve had many of them, Wally will be the support Dick clearly needs and hopefully a day like that day won’t happen again in the future.

#dick grayson #jason todd #wally west #angst #emotional hurt/comfort #drinking #unhealthy coping mechanisms #drunk Dick #good sibling jason #good friend wally #implied self harm #self harm in the form of sparring #badthingshappenbingo #Bad Things Happen Bingo #fanfiction #dc comics #batfam #grieving

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flockofcrowsinatornadoofcreation · 1 year

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Zane headcanons!

• Zane secretly remembers his time as the Ice Emperor. He fights to keep up his cheery, innocent front, but he worries that he might slip. He fears that he could hurt someone if the Ice Emperor returned.

After thinking long and hard, Zane gave Pixal and Lloyd a copy of his shutdown code. He told them it was "just in case", with no further explanation given.

• When Zane gets too emotional, he can short-circuit. One time Jay scared him and he freaked out then dropped like a stone.

• Zane is secretly a fashion icon, but he still dresses like an old man half the time. He doesn't want to overshadow the iconic RGB Siblings.

Example of Icon Zane: "You don't need a rebreather." "Yes, I know, but I like how it completes my outfit😁"

"Zane, you're a nindroid. You have infrared sensors. You have night vision. Why are you wearing glasses?" "I enjoy the aesthetic."

• Pixane stuff!

They absolutely adore each other

When Zane got back from the Never Realm, it was hard for Pixal to let Zane out of her sight for a while

They love to go on dates, especially to cafés during rain/snow storms. They enjoy the aesthetic.

Since Zane gave Pixal half of his heart, they sort of feel what the other is feeling. This is usually limited to extremes, and doesn't usually cross realms. This link persists even after the two get new bodies after defeating the Overlord and getting scrapped.

• Zane and Pixal's completely different attitudes towards the fact that humans are squishier and more delicate than nindroids.

Zane is very much the health-and-wellness type, who is very conscienscious about cultivating an optimal environment for his human friends. Drafts out full meal plans, changes all the lightbulbs in the house because he read online that certain lighting arrangements can elicit certain moods in humans, and he's studied human medicine intensely enough that he could probably get a medical license if he wanted. Kai gets a sore throat, Zane immediately begins researching homemade cough syrup recipes. Cole's got knee pain, instant ice pack and bedrest. Jay is lactose-intolerant and Zane has a conniption if he so much as looks at dairy.

Pixal's reaction, meanwhile, is on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. Constantly overestimates what humans can survive. "I could punch Nya through five inches of steel right? She can take it, she's tough." And "Jay, let's test out my new laser cannon by seeing how far across it'll blast you across the secret base." And "I'm sure no one will take issue if I get rid of all our oven mitts, surely humans aren't so weak they can't handle a hot sheet of metal." It doesn’t help that she usually poses most of her questions about human fragility to Lloyd of all people, who is a half-dragoni demigod chosen one of prophecy, so he doesn’t know either. "Lloyd, it is my turn to cook and I was wondering if four whole ghost peppers is spicy enough for humans." "Hm....maybe add a fifth pepper." "My thoughts exactly." The catch is, since they're all essentially superhuman, they're also more durable than the average human so all of Pixal's dangerous overestimations usually turn out just fine. Except that incident with the peppers. She is still banned from the kitchen after that.

• Zane gets Pixal to make him multiple different bodies for fun occasions (and also its good to have backups) like the ninja go to a fancy gala or something and Zanes like "oh let me get my luxury skin" and he looks exactly the same as normal except now he's rose gold

#ninjago #flockofcrows #zane #pixane ninjago #pixal #flockofcrows ninjago headcanons #lets see how many of you yell about stealing headcanons word for word :')

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kasienda · 2 years

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Adrino Fic Recs - Part 2!!!

I’ve been promising this for months, and I’ve been struggling to finish any of my fics, but I figured this was something I could definitely finish! And share with you all.

Here’s is Part 1 if you missed it the first time. I was in search of romantic Adrino when curating this list, but a few of the ones that made the list might be a bit ambiguous and could be interpreted either way.

Here we go again in no particular order:

(Actually, I lied, the multi-chapters all ended up at the end):

1) In which Adrien braids his boyfriend’s hair by @ck2k18. The title says it all. This is a little tiny one-shot, and it packs an emotional punch of pure sweetness. And I can’t say more than that. It’s just perfect. You should read it!

2) Blindsided by Leisey. Nino has figured out Adrien’s identity, so despite his own feelings, he’s determined to set Adrien up with Ladybug, but Adrien isn’t cooperating. I positively adore the narrative voice the author has written for Nino in this one. It’s just delightful and fun and hilarious all in one. Longer one-shot.

3) Corrupt you on the dance floor/take you home by Reiaji Nino doesn’t fit in Adrien’s crazy life. But somehow he’s still in it, and he’s not letting go. This is the same person who wrote “whose woods these are (I think I know)” so you know they just have a way with metaphors and imagery and making your feel things, and this one-shot is no exception to that.

4) Would you Rather? By SiderealSandman The class is having discussions on who they would rather kiss. Ladybug or Chat Noir. Nino and Adrien are both super embarrassed. This is just mostly miracuclass shenanigans in an au where Nino is Ladybug. One-shot.

5) Emotional Support Turtle by Distraught_by_your_Love Nino figures Adrien out and then helps him run away from home. This one alternates between narrative scenes and text fic, and I love it. This writer really did capture Nino’s voice in both dialogue and text. Platonic longer one-shot.

6) Chit-Chat by MuseofWriting Chat Noir keeps visiting Nino to hang out, and Nino has no idea why, but he doesn’t want it to stop. Again, more platonic, but it hints at something more developing. One-shot.

7) Your Secret is Safe by WoodenSuitcase When Ladybug lets it slip that she told her identity to Alya who is her best friend, Chat comes to the conclusion that Ladybug is Nino. This setup is borderline crack and requires a bit of suspension of disbelief, but the concluding conversation about pronouns is just so wholesome and made me cry the first time I read it. One-shot.

8) How We Began by Heart With A Vacancy Adrien tells the story of how he and Nino began to their child. Beyond precious. Established relationship. Short one-shot.

9) I can think of something better by @ladynoirist Chat has a tendency to come visit Nino after Nino’s had some rough days. Nino starts to notice some patterns. They’re kinda dating in this one, but it’s never actually acknowledged. Super cute! One-shot.

10) Antihero Adrien WIP Two: Carapace Edition by LoganLight (@chronicallylatetotheparty) Look! I can read this one over and over again, and it makes me feel things. This writer is kinda my idol for fight scenes with emotional subtext that just makes everything feel raw. (The Adrigami part one of this is also amazing). Little tiny one-shot. But it’s intense.

11) Off the Mark by @buggachat Nino vents to Adrien about Chat being weird, so Adrien keeps changing Chat’s behavior to make Nino happy, which just makes Nino feel even more weird. Both hilarious and sad. Ultimately cathartic. Platonic longer one-shot.

12) Out of Your Orbit also by @buggachat Buggachat apparently is in the habit of dropping multi-chapter fics all at once out of friggin nowhere (in addition to almost daily comics). This particular fic is amazing!! The characterizations are perfect. There is longing/pining, core four shenanigans with so much hilarity, but also feelings, and definitely lots of romance. Features Alyanette throughout the fic, but this story is ultimately about Adrino. I’ve already reread this one like three times. No powers au. Multi-chapter.

13) Best Friends and Boyfriends by Kasienda More shameless self promotion, and I feel less awkward this time because there’s so few multi-chapter stories with this pairing. But basically, in this incredibly self indulgent fic, Chat and Carapace are dating pre-reveal while Adrien and Nino are talking to each other about their boyfriends. Also features background Alyanette. Mostly fluff with a little bit of disagreement thrown in for depth. I find the make up (and make out) scene and reveal in this one to be SO SATISFYING. This is my comfort fic. I reread it when I’m sick. Hope you enjoy it!

And that’s part two of my recs! Hope you enjoy them!

#miraculous ladybug fanfiction #fic rec #adrino #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #I love this pairing so much #hope you enjoy these stories #happy reading #hey! I finished something!#not a story - but SOMETHING!

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vousmereve · 4 months

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The Midnight Promise: My New Year’s Symphony

So, there I was, standing in front of this old door, almost reluctant to twist the knob because who knew what lay beyond, right? But curiosity got the better of me. With a creak, the door swung open, revealing this hidden path that seemed to whisper secrets of adventures waiting to be discovered. And that moment, when I realized that by moving forward, by letting go of that rusty old handle, I was stepping into a realm where turning back was not an option. It’s like hitting the ‘start new life’ button—something so exhilarating yet terrifying at the same time. I mean, isn’t that the paradox of our existence? The fear of not fitting in, of being alone in a crowd, it’s real, it’s raw.

But here’s the magic, as I took each step forward, it was like I’m shedding that fear bit by bit. Can you picture it? One foot in front of the other, eyes tracing the ground then lifting to the horizon. And voila! It’s almost the end of the year; it’s like rebooting life, entering a whole new chapter, knowing it is a story that will eventually find its ending. It’s this constant cycle, leaving behind one door only to find another waiting ahead. That’s the thing about us humans, or at least we believe it does. We’re in this perpetual loop of starting afresh, flipping through the chapters, painting our life diaries with the vibrant hues of lessons learned and emotions felt: the heartaches, the joys, and everything else in between; all from this whirlwind of a year that’s about to fade into memories.

Looking back at 2023, it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, was it? That year packed a punch that left many of us reeling, twenty-three was a rollercoaster of emotions, some unforgettable moments and others best left in the past. It was as though life decided to play rough and hearts took a serious beating. So much pain, so many shattered spirits. But hey, here you are, reading this. Your kindness hasn’t gone unnoticed, and I’m sincerely thankful that you survived. Thank you for not letting those wounds define you, also for choosing to march forward.

Thanks for finding happiness one more time and for neatly tucking away those memories into a box named ‘lessons learned.’

Well, Sweetums, what 2023 had us feeling, they were something else, right? Some moments worth cherishing, but others? Maybe, let’s just say, once was enough. But you know what’s awesome? Life doesn’t hit pause yet. We turn the page, starting a fresh 1/366. Despite the tough phases in times gone by, meeting someone like you just made it all worth it. Our connection, those heartfelt conversations, they meant a lot. You are someone I genuinely care about, and I truly wish nothing but happiness for you. I value our bond, your thoughts, your ideas, they matter to me, how they just reflect my fondness for you. Here’s to hoping that joy fills your days ahead, making every moment brighter and much better than yesterday.

No more getting lost in the chaos, okay? That tough year, it’s done and dusted, you’ve made it through. Happy New Year! My only wish is for twenty-four to be YOUR year. May this world embrace you, lift your spirits, and turn those tears into cheers. I want an overflow of joy for you, shielded from any more pain or heartaches. I care about you, that’s why I want you to step into this new chapter with positivity. Your hopes, your aspirations, they resonate with me too. Thank you for not just surviving but for choosing to thrive despite the odds stacked against you. Everything you’re aiming for, you’re going to crush it in twenty-four, mark my words. No more setbacks, no more feeling unworthy, no more of that loneliness or lingering sadness messing with your peace of mind.

Twenty-four’s all about the good stuff. And for those feeling stuck, here’s to hoping for a guiding light, a path to move ahead. To the ones battling illness, may speedy recovery be on the horizon. And for those carrying heartbreak, here’s to healing swiftly and rediscovering love. I’m manifesting nothing but the best for all of us in this new year. Let’s gather all the positivity, believing that twenty-four will be a game-changer, bringing us the best news and experiences yet. You and I, let’s make it count.

Just know, remember that whenever you need an ear to listen or a mere shoulder to lean on, I’m forever here. My arms are wide open, ready to embrace you through all the twists and turns, making sure you feel safe and welcomed no matter what. I haven’t changed a bit, I’m still that warm haven, like the soothing, comforting dew that graces the morning. Even if life throws you a curveball and you feel like you’re losing everything, remember, you won’t lose me. Hold onto this truth tightly: my love for you transcends what words can express and goes far beyond what meets the eye.

Please live your life in a way that fills your days with joy, find happiness in the little things, and embrace every moment that comes your way. Here’s to a life lived well, to finding contentment, and to experiencing the beautiful journey that lies ahead.

“Stay alive, I love you.”

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starlightbuck · 1 year

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how am i supposed to live without you

word count: 6,644 || read on AO3

Buck deflates, body going slack as he leans back against his sofa. He read through the gossip articles earlier between calls, enough of them to prove the validity of the breaking news story, but hearing Eddie confirm it makes it real.

Eddie is embarking on a nationwide tour with one of the most popular singers in the world.

And he’s going to be leaving Buck behind to do so.

In which Eddie goes away on tour and Buck has to adjust to living without him.

“Buck! How could you not tell us?”

Buck freezes, coffee mug halfway to his lips as his coworkers stare at him with varying degrees of emotions plastered on their faces. Hen’s excitement. Chim’s amusement. Bosko’s confusion. Bobby’s concern.

It’s the last expression that worries Buck the most.

“Tell you what?”

“About Eddie!”

Buck lowers his mug back onto the table and eyes the team suspiciously. They’ve brought Eddie up many times in the past, much to Buck’s chagrin.

Have you two gotten your heads out of your asses and started dating yet?

You two are awfully close.

How does it feel to be a co-parent?

How’s your boo doing?

It’s that line of questioning and teasing that makes Buck particularly apprehensive about whatever it is his friends are going to say to him about Eddie today. “What about him?”

Bosko rolls her eyes. “Quit playing dumb.”

Buck reels back, the words packing a hard punch. He doesn’t know what he’s done to draw Bosko’s ire, but it only deepens the rapidly growing pit in Buck’s stomach. It reminds him of how he felt all throughout high school at some prestigious place his parents forced him to attend. He was the only new kid and that, coupled with the weird birthmark on his face, made him an outcast right off the bat. His classmates would whisper things as he passed by and made it a point to talk about him when he wasn’t around, always sure to keep a tight leash on some secret about Buck that they never bothered to share with him.

Buck swallows back the acrid taste of inadequacy, hating that even after all these years, it can still make its way to the surface. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bobby’s face does something complicated. Bosko shuffles uncomfortably. Chim and Hen both frown.

“I thought you knew,” Hen says in the same measured voice she uses when talking to a victim at one of the scenes they’re working. Buck has always marveled at how it can keep those they’re trying to save calm. He wishes it could have the same effect on him. “I wouldn’t have said anything otherwise.”

“Knew what?” Buck’s heart is racing, trying to piece together whatever pieces of the puzzle everyone else has already solved. He stands, ready to walk, run, fly, do something if that’s what he needs to do. What Eddie needs him to do. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

For one terrifying moment, no one so much as moves a muscle or breathes. It’s as though they’re suspended in time, the brief pause right before the climax unfolds and leaves a mess in its wake.

It’s Hen who holds her phone out to Buck. He takes it and almost immediately wishes he hadn’t. His knees give out and he’s lucky that his chair is there to keep him from hitting the floor.

There on the bright screen is a face he knows too well under a headline he doesn’t know how to make sense of.

Unknown LA Artist Eddie Diaz Tapped as Opener for Priscilla King’s Highly Anticipated Stadium Tour

Buck is sitting alone in his apartment with a half-full beer in his hand when someone knocks on his door.

“Buck? You in there?”

Buck takes a hearty swig of his drink instead of responding.

“I saw your Jeep out front, you’ve gotta be in there.”

Buck should’ve parked around the corner.

“I’m coming in.”

The sound of a key being inserted and twisted in the doorknob is loud in the otherwise silent space. The noise is a temporary reprieve from the thoughts that have been swirling around in Buck’s mind since this morning.

Lights brighten the once dark apartment and Buck has to blink in rapid succession to adjust to the unexpected change.

“Is there any reason why you’re sitting alone in the dark?” Eddie questions, rounding the sofa and taking a seat beside Buck. Buck doesn’t say anything, doesn’t trust himself to. “Chris was really disappointed that you didn’t come by tonight.”

And that? Well, that’s not fair. Anyone with eyes knows that Chris is Buck’s weakness - he’d capture the moon and bring it back down to earth if Chris asked him to.

“I’ll apologize next time I see him.” Buck’s voice is gruff from disuse, and he hopes that’ll hide the undercurrent of hurt that wedges itself between each of his words.

He’s not sure how many more ‘next times’ he has with Chris. Or Eddie.

How does that saying go again? You never know what you have until it’s gone. In his defense, Buck always knew what he had - he just wasn’t expecting it to be ripped away from him. Not like this.

“Are you okay?”

Buck hates that question with every fiber of his being. If there was a way for him to eradicate it from the English language, he would. Has anyone ever answered that question honestly? He doubts it and he doesn’t intend to be the first to do so either. “Yeah.”

Eddie slides over on the sofa so that his shoulder brushes Buck’s. Usually, that small touch is enough to send sparks racing down Buck’s spine. Now it’s bittersweet, tainted by a ticking clock that is counting down the time Buck has left with Eddie.

“Buck.”

It’s not fair that Eddie can make Buck’s name sound so beautiful. Then again, Eddie has a tendency of making even the simplest things sound like a lovely melody. Buck used to, still does, love that about him. But he loves it a little less now that he knows it’s that same talent that’s going to take Eddie away from him.

“Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you found out?”

Beside him, Eddie inhales sharply. “Who told you?”

“The internet.”

Technically Hen did, but the internet is close enough to the truth.

“Fuck.” Eddie stands and Buck almost reaches out for him, but it’s not his place to do so. Even if he wishes it was. “I was planning to tell you tonight, but you never came by.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, Eddie adds, “I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

Eddie is embarking on a nationwide tour with one of the most popular singers in the world.

And he’s going to be leaving Buck behind to do so.

The only person Buck has to blame for being caught off guard by this is himself. He tricked himself into believing that maybe, just maybe, Eddie would be the one to stay. It was foolish logic compounded by wishful thinking and an imagination that’s constantly running wild.

Buck’s never been worth sticking around for in the past. Why would things be any different now?

This moment isn’t about him and his inability to find anyone who thinks he’s worth staying for though. It’s about Eddie and the fact that he’s finally achieving a dream that he’s been working towards for much longer than Buck’s known him. So, Buck shoves aside the steadily spreading ache in his chest and musters up the biggest smile that he can. He hopes it’s convincing.

“A tour with the Priscilla King? Eddie, that’s huge.”

“I know.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair, dislodging a couple of strands that end up hanging in his face. “I know. It’s insane. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Well it is and no one deserves it more than you.”

It’s something Buck believed when he first heard Eddie perform at a dive bar a couple of years ago and it’s what he still believes to this day.

“Thank you,” Eddie says, before taking a seat in front of Buck on the edge of his coffee table. “For coming to my small shows. For always cheering the loudest. For taking Chris on nights when I got last-minute gigs. For helping me record and post my covers. For telling me I could do this on the days that I was convinced I couldn’t.”

There’s a stinging at the back of Buck’s eyes but he opts to counteract that feeling by biting the corner of his lip. He can’t cry. He won’t.

Even if this feels like a goodbye.

“Your support saw me through this and got me to where I am today. So, although it doesn’t feel like just saying this is enough, thank you.”

Eddie takes Buck’s hand, the one that isn’t still holding onto his almost empty beer bottle and laces their fingers together. The air is forcibly dragged out of Buck’s lungs, and he’s convinced that he’ll never breathe easily again. Not with the knowledge that Eddie won’t be around anymore.

Buck thought they had more time. It’s why he never pushed this thing that they’ve got going on between them. The lingering touches. The sometimes-flirty banter. The need to constantly spend any free time together. He was convinced that one day, the two of them would figure it out. They’d get their shit together and stop toeing the line between being close friends and something more.

Maybe they would’ve. But Eddie is leaving, and Buck doesn’t know how to tell him that he’s taking Buck’s heart with him.

“Nothing’s going to change between us, right?” Eddie questions, his hand squeezing Buck’s tightly. Buck relishes in the added pressure, thoughts trailing off to an alternate world where Eddie wasn’t sitting here telling Buck he was leaving. Instead, he’d be asking Buck to come with him.

It’s unrealistic, Buck’s aware of that, but he can’t stop himself from thinking about it. In that version of his daydreams, Buck would’ve been a braver man and already told Eddie how he feels. Buck’s not brave though, not when it comes to love. He’s put himself out there too many times in the past only to end up burned.

It’s not like anything will change the fact that Eddie’s leaving anyways.

“Nothing’s going to change, Eddie. We won’t let it.”

Everything changes because of course it does.

In some ways, it happens all at once.

Everything in the Diaz household is packed up and either put into storage or shoved into the small nooks and crannies of Abuela’s house. Carla helps Eddie find an aide who can join him on tour and keep up with Chris’s needs. The school Chris was attending provides recommendations for a tutor who will make sure Chris stays on track for the last month of school before summer vacation.

In other ways, it’s a slow progression that somehow manages to do more damage to Buck’s heart than saying goodbye at the airport to two of his favorite people in the world did.

At first, Eddie makes it a point to FaceTime Buck every night, no matter what. He’ll let Chris catch up with Buck first before he takes the phone, letting their conversation stretch for as long as he can.

The FaceTime calls transition into sporadic phone calls because Eddie rarely has any free time and, when he does, he’s too exhausted to maintain a conversation. There are nights when he falls asleep five minutes into a phone call with Buck and Buck stays on the line because he might not have Eddie with him anymore, but at least he has this.

Then the phone calls become texts because there isn’t even time for Eddie to speak on the phone with Buck anymore.

Buck knew this was coming, but he still wasn’t ready. Not to open his thread of messages to Eddie and see far more blue messages than gray. To see the way he tries to maintain a conversation that Buck’s sure Eddie barely cares about having.

In summation, Eddie’s gone and Buck’s whole world is turned upside down. They swore nothing would change, but everything has and it’s Buck who’s left behind to pick up the shattered remains of his heart while the rest of the world falls ever more in love with Eddie Diaz.

‘I loved him first’ is what Buck wants to say.

He never does.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this to myself,” Buck slurs, wine glass in his hand almost empty.

It’s been a month and a half since Eddie left and Buck feels the loss every day. Even more so now that they aren’t in contact like they used to be.

“You shouldn’t have to,” Karen responds, words only barely clearer than Buck’s. Her wine glass has been abandoned on the coffee table alongside the two bottles of wine Buck brought along with him for this specific purpose.

He’s been sad, unendingly so and it was Karen who finally called him out on it during dinner at Bobby and Athena’s one night. She left him no choice but to agree to swing by during one of Hen’s overnight shifts so they could talk.

“I miss him.”

“I know, honey.” Karen reaches out and covers one of Buck’s hands with her own. Her touch is a comfort that grounds him in this moment in place of the thoughts of Eddie that constantly plague his mind. “I think it’s time that you do what’s best for you.”

“Eddie’s what’s best for me,” Buck confesses, the alcohol making his tongue much looser than ever before. He’s never said these words aloud to anyone before, not even to himself.

“Maybe he was,” Karen counters, suddenly much more sober than before. Or maybe she was never drunk to begin with, and it only seemed that way to Buck because of how much he’s had to drink. “But he’s not now and you deserve better.”

“I deserve better,” Buck parrots, rolling the words around in his mouth. He says them again just because he can. “I deserve better.”

Karen smiles, a lopsided thing that makes Buck smile too.

“You do. And I think that means distancing yourself from Eddie.”

Buck’s heart skips a beat. “But-”

“Eddie put that distance between the two of you first. I’m sure he didn’t mean to, but it happened and you’re paying the price because of it. Now I think it’s your turn to do the same.”

Buck doesn’t respond, opting to finish off the last of his wine. It burns a little on the way down, but the sting is nothing in comparison to swallowing back the truth behind Karen’s words.’’

Eddie (2:42am): hey! how are you?

Buck wakes up to the message a couple of days after his alcohol-induced confession to Karen. His first thought is to respond right away, heart ratcheting up at the sight of Eddie’s name in his notifications again. But then he sees all the messages that he’s sent to Eddie over the past few weeks, the ones that went unanswered, and he changes his mind.

“I deserve better,” he whispers, locking his phone and getting out of bed.

“Hey, Buck! I know it’s been a while since we last spoke, but I just wanted to drop in and see how things are going. How’s the station? Chim play any good pranks on you lately?”

Buck listens to the voicemail twice. He almost hits the “Call Back” button, but he can’t bring himself to do it. So he doesn’t.

Eddie (11:24pm): did you get my voicemail?

Buck stares at the text, a hint of gray in the otherwise blue landscape that makes up his text chain with Eddie. His fingers hover over his keyboard, trying to come up with something to say, when the alarm sounds. Buck, along with the rest of the 118, make their way to the truck for yet another call.

He puts his phone in his pocket and forgets all about responding.

“I just spoke to Chris, and he said you guys spoke last night? When I tried calling, you didn’t answer. Call me back when you get this?”

“Evan Buckley, now is not the time to be on your phone.”

Buck jolts, the reprimand made louder by the alcohol coursing through his system. “Just give me a second. I have to-”

“Oh no no no,” Karen tells him, coming by and plucking his phone right out of his hand. Her warm fingers circle around his wrist as she tugs him toward a dimly lit stage. “You and I are doing this duet. No chickening out now.”

Somewhere in the background, Buck hears Chim squawking, Hen yelling, and Bobby reminding Buck that he doesn’t have to give in to peer pressure.

It all steels his resolve.

“Let’s knock their socks off.”

Eddie (2:07am): i miss you

Buck, having put Eddie on ‘Do Not Disturb’, never sees the message.

“Buck! How could you not tell us?”

Hen, Chim, Bobby and Bosko surround him in the locker room, and it gives Buck the worst sense of déjà vu. It takes him a second to place the origin of this feeling but, when he does, it’s like someone ripped the rug right out from under Buck’s feet.

The last time this happened, Buck found out about Eddie leaving for tour. Although it’s a wound that has healed over time, it’s still a sore spot that he’d much rather not revisit.

“No.”

“No?” Chim sounds as perplexed as the rest of the team looks.

“No,” Buck confirms, lacing up his shoes before standing. Their shift is just starting and the last thing he needs is to be distracted when there are lives on the line.

Hen holds her phone out towards him, and he resists the urge to take it from her and toss it in the nearest garbage can. That phone has done enough damage in the past. He won’t let it do so in the present as well. “But-”

“No.”

“But it’s E-”

“No.”

The fourth ‘no’ must do the trick because the semi-circle they created around him gets broken up. Bosko is the first one to go, followed by Chim and then Hen.

Bobby lingers the longest and Buck is expecting him to say something, but the captain just squeezes Buck’s shoulder before following the rest of the team out of the room.

“Hi, Bucky!”

Buck smiles despite the all too familiar ache that comes with only being able to see a pixelated version of Christopher. It’s not the same as the real thing, but he reminds himself that it’s also better than nothing. “Hey, buddy! How are you doing today?”

Chris is bouncing in his seat, having far more energy than Buck would expect out of him at this time. “Good! Did you see the video of daddy?”

“What video?” Buck asks because the alternative is admitting that he has made it a point to avoid all things Eddie-related for his own well-being. That’s not a conversation he’d know how to go about navigating, especially not with Chris.

Chris stops moving, lips turning down in a frown that sends a wave of guilt crashing over Buck. He never wants to be the cause of his favorite person’s unhappiness.

“Daddy sang last night at the concert. When I saw Priscilla this morning, she said that it was everywhere.” Chris does that on occasion, namedrops Priscilla King as if she’s not the single most sought after star in the music industry right now. Buck is sure that it’s going to make Chris the envy of all of his classmates when he goes back to school. “I asked her if she thought you saw it and she said yes.”

Had the circumstances been different, Buck might’ve been awestruck over the fact that one of the most famous celebrities in the world is aware of his existence, all thanks to a nine-year-old.

“I’m sure it was great,” Buck says, wholeheartedly meaning it. He’s had firsthand experience with Eddie’s singing in the past. Him being chosen as the opener for Priscilla King’s tour was no fluke.

“You have to watch the video.”

Chris has only ever used that tone in the past during moments of urgency. Usually, Buck would have no choice but to buckle under the pressure of Chris’s gaze and do as he’s been told, but this is different. He can’t do it. Not after he’s finally gotten to a place where losing Eddie has transitioned from excruciating to painful but manageable.

It’s taken him time to get to this point and he can’t jeopardize that for anything or anyone. Chris included.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Chris asks with a pout that Buck desperately wishes he could erase off of the young child’s face.

“I just can’t.”

“Is it because you can’t find it? I can ask Priscilla to send it to you if you want.” Chris’s innocence surrounding the situation somehow manages to make all of this worse. “You have to watch it. Daddy sang the song just for you.”

The blood in Buck’s veins runs cold. Of all the things Chris could’ve said, Buck can’t say that he was expecting that.

“You mean he sang a song for everyone.”

“If everything that Chris has told me about you is true, there was no way the song could be for anyone but you,” a female voice says from somewhere off-screen.

Chris looks towards a spot of the room Buck can’t see before grinning widely. Chris shifts the tablet and Buck tries to withhold a gasp and fails because, standing there in all her glory is Priscilla King.

“So you’re the famous Buck these Diaz boys can’t stop talking about,” Priscilla drawls, something akin to delight flickering in her brown eyes. “I can see what all the hype is about.”

“I-” Buck starts, words failing him in a way that they haven’t since he was a teenager. Living in LA has desensitized him to most celebrities, so much so that he usually scoffs at stories of people becoming starstruck when meeting someone famous. It seemed ludicrous to him that a random stranger could have that effect on another person, all because of their social status.

This must be karma coming back to bite him in the ass in the most devious way possible. It’s the only way to explain his inability to form a proper word, let alone a full sentence. He can’t do much more than open and close his mouth in the hopes that something coherent will magically slip past his lips.

“Bucky, are you okay?”

Priscilla laughs, a deep chuckle that is in stark contrast to the dulcet singing he’s used to hearing on the radio. “I think he’s a little surprised to be talking to me.”

“Why?” Chris asks, genuine confusion overtaking his features.

“This is why you’re one of my favorite people on this tour, Chris.” Priscilla ruffles Chris’s hair, making him giggle.

It’s the familiarity of the scene that breaks Buck through his temporary celebrity-induced haze. Without the shock coursing through him, he can get back to the topic at hand. The same one he is struggling to wrap his head around.

“Why do you both think that Eddie sang a song for me?”

“Just watch the video and you’ll know why. In fact,” Priscilla pauses to take her phone out of her pocket and begins tapping away on the screen, “my team recorded a better version of the performance than you’ll find on YouTube. If you give me your number, I can text it to you.”

“I know Bucky’s number!” Chris reaches for Priscilla’s phone with wiggling fingers, and she hands it over without a second thought. It takes him less than a minute to type in the ten digits that make up Buck’s number, something he learned to do because of Eddie’s insistence.

If, for whatever reason, I can’t get to you, Buck will.

Those words had rung in Buck’s head long after Eddie said them.

It’s the buzz of an incoming text message that brings Buck out of the memory. When he checks his phone, he has one new text from an unknown number and there’s a video attached to it.

Whatever look crosses his face, Priscilla must catch it because she says, “I know it’s scary, but take the leap. I promise it’ll be worth it.

It takes a few hours filled with a lot of pacing and false starts before Buck finally finds the courage to pull out his laptop and open the link that Priscilla sent him.

“I hope you guys don’t mind, but I’m going to do a different cover tonight,” Eddie announces, fingers lightly strumming his guitar. Incoherent screaming can be heard in the background and the hint of a smile graces Eddie’s features. The screaming only grows louder.

“I had someone back home.” Eddie’s fingers still and he looks out into the crowd, eyes searching as if he can conjure up this person from his thoughts alone. “And I messed it up. I let them slip right through my fingers even though I knew - I know that they’re everything I could ever want.”

Buck doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t breathe.

He’s not a part of that crowd, but he’s as enraptured as everyone else is.

Eddie’s gaze drops down to the mic in front of him. He exhales deeply, the sound reverberating around the stadium. “So, if you’re out there, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for waiting so damn long and I’m sorry for pushing you away. If you’re listening, this is for you.”

Eddie strums his guitar, and people must know what he’s about to sing from those chords alone because there’s more screaming.

“I could hardly believe it when I heard the news today. I had to come and get it straight from you.”

The lyrics are vaguely familiar to Buck, but it’s Eddie’s voice that renders Buck awestruck. It has been so long since he heard Eddie sing that hearing it again now is like that first time he heard it in a bar over three years ago. He had never known that a voice could be so beautiful, that it could make him feel so much, until he met Eddie.

“They said you were leavin’, someone’s swept your heart away. From the look upon your face, I see it’s true.”

Music has always amazed Buck. Songwriters can take topics as complex as love and heartbreak and fitting them into a song that only lasts a few minutes. Then singers take those words and infuse them with seemingly endless emotions.

In this case, Eddie has found the perfect song to match the heartbreaking melody that has been playing on repeat in Buck’s mind since he found out that Eddie and Chris were leaving for tour.

“So tell me all about it, tell me ‘bout the plans you’re makin’. Oh, then tell me one thing more before I go.”

Buck is mesmerized.

Over the past three years, he has seen Eddie perform in countless places. In coffee shops, open mic nights at random restaurants, and on small stages in bars, but none of them have done him justice.

This, a grand stage, is where Eddie belongs.

“Tell me, how am I supposed to live without you? Now that I’ve been loving you so long. How am I supposed to live without you and how am I supposed to carry on? When all that I’ve been living for is gone.”

And with those words, Buck gets it. He understands how Chris and Priscilla, and probably everyone at work too, knew exactly who Eddie was dedicating this song to.

The yearning in Eddie’s voice is a mirror to the yearning in Buck’s heart. It’s the only way to explain how his heart calls out to Eddie as if it’s being called home after being lost for so long.

“And I’m too proud for cryin’, didn’t come here to break down. It’s just a dream of mine is coming to an end. And how can I blame you when I built my world around the hope that one day, we’d be so much more than friends?”

Luckily no one is around to see Buck reach out to his laptop screen and graze his knuckles over Eddie’s face. Those brown eyes that Buck has spent what feels like his whole life falling in love with give nothing away while Eddie sings.

His voice though.

His voice is singing everything that Buck only ever dreamed of hearing Eddie say.

“Now I don’t wanna know the price I’m gonna pay for dreaming. Oh, now that your dream has come true.”

The price that Buck had to pay for Eddie’s dreams coming true was steep. More so than even he was anticipating. It’s a price that he paid then and a price he knows he'd wholeheartedly pay again just to see Eddie where he is now - on stage and getting all the love and attention he deserves.

But this moment, this song, is different. It feels like a new dream being realized.

A new start.

The song ends and, for a second, there’s silence. Eddie’s chest heaves from the exertion of his singing and, when he looks up, the audience yells at the top of their lungs. It startles Eddie, so much so that he takes a couple of steps backwards.

Then, as if remembering where he is, he throws his free arm up to wave and smile at everyone.

The smile doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

Buck’s vision is blurry when he types up the only message he can think to send.

Buck (8:32pm): do you have any tickets for your LA show next month?

He puts his phone down, unsure of how long it’ll take for him to receive a response.

That’s why he’s so surprised when his phone chimes only seconds later.

Priscilla (8:32pm): I’ll personally fly you out to our next show myself if it means Eddie will stop moping around.

“Are you nervous?”

Buck’s heart squeezes at the sound of that voice, having spent far too long only hearing it over a phone or computer as compared to in person.

“Yeah, buddy,” he says to Christopher, who is sitting in the chair beside him. “I am.”

“You don’t have to be though. It’s just daddy.”

The simplicity of those words is a sharp contrast to the situation that’s about to unfold. Even more so because Eddie has never been ‘just’ anything to Buck.

“They’re ready for you,” a woman with a headset and clipboard informs Buck and Christopher. “I’m going to walk you over now.”

The instructions are easy to follow and yet, the thought of standing up feels as insurmountable as climbing a mountain. Once Buck gets up, the plan that has been a week in the making will be set in motion. There will be no turning back.

It’s terrifying to think that after everything that he and Eddie have been through together, this is the way the page is going to turn on their relationship. Not in a small and quiet way, like Buck had always dreamed about, but on an unfamiliar stage in a packed stadium full of people neither Eddie nor Buck have ever met before.

“C’mon, Bucky.” Chris holds out a hand to Buck and, if there’s anything that Buck has ever been happy to fail spectacularly at, it’s this. His inability to say no to Chris. Without it, he would be frozen to his spot, ready but afraid to find out what comes next.

They walk through the backstage area together, the stadium’s employee at the front guiding them through the darkness with a flashlight. She must be cognizant of the need to not rush through the sometimes small and other times crowded spaces to allow Chris the ability to keep up with her.

As they draw closer to the stage, Buck can hear the chanting of the crowd. It is a long way away from the small bars and pubs that Eddie used to frequent. Back then, having more than twenty people in the crowd was a big deal. Now, Eddie is easily singing to tens of thousands of people at least four times a week.

They say nothing can prepare you for being thrust into the spotlight, so Buck wonders how Eddie prepared for this. He desperately wishes he could ask.

“Minnesota, you’ve been great tonight! Is it okay if I do one last song for you?”

Chris squeals, gripping Buck’s hand tightly. This is the cue they’ve been waiting for and, from their position on the side of the stage, they have the best view in the arena to watch it all unfold.

“I have a new song -”

“Now now, hold on there Cowboy,” a voice interjects. The audience’s screams amplify tenfold as Priscilla strolls out on stage with a microphone in one hand and a stool in another. Buck is tempted to cover his ears but doing so means letting go of Chris’s hand and he’s not sure what he’s liable to do once he lets go. Chris is his anchor, and, without his touch, Buck is almost certain he’ll let himself be washed away at sea.

“Hey, P. What’re you doing out here? Trying to steal my thunder?”

Priscilla sets the stool beside Eddie and takes a seat on it. She props her arm on his shoulder, eyes twinkling when she leans in so she can use his mic to say, “you do know that this is my tour so, if there’s anyone stealing my thunder, it’s you.”

There’s a lightness to Eddie that Buck is unsure he’s ever experienced before. Like a flower with the right care, Eddie blooms under the brightness of countless adoring fans and someone as open and friendly as Priscilla.

“Well if that’s the case, should I be getting off your stage?”

Eddie goes so far as to start unplugging his guitar, to the chagrin of countless concert goers.There’s somehow even more yelling than before and this time it has nothing to do with Priscilla.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Cowboy. I’d have a riot on my hands if I let you walk off this stage right now.” She takes a moment to take in the crowd before turning her attention to the side of the stage that Chris and Buck are hiding in. Buck is almost certain that she winks in their direction. “I’m actually here because I have a favor to ask you.”

Even though Eddie has been rolling with the punches up until now, Buck can tell this unexpected request throws Eddie off. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“I was wondering if I could sing a song with you.”

Buck’s in a packed stadium where everything is at full volume, including the crowd, but not even that can drown out the sound of Buck’s pounding heart in his ears. This is it - the beginning of the end.

And, hopefully, the start of something new.

As if sensing his spiraling thoughts, Chris squeezes Buck’s hand again.

On stage, Eddie purses his lips and puts a finger to his chin. “I think that can be arranged. What did you have in mind?”

Priscilla covers both her mic and Eddie’s when she leans forward to whisper the song in his ear. If Eddie’s surprised by what she says, he hides it well.

“Think you can handle that, Cowboy?”

Eddie repositions his fingers on his guitar, cocky smile in place. “I think I can. I just hope you can keep up, P.”

Buck experiences an unnerving sense of déjà vu as Eddie strums the first few chords of the song. It’s almost as if he’s at home watching the video Priscilla again.

“I could hardly believe it when I heard the news today. I had to come and get it straight from you.”

Priscilla and Eddie harmonize the lyrics as if they’ve sung them a hundred times together before. Where he goes low, she goes high. Buck would be captivated if not for what he knows is going to happen next.

“Alright, Mr. Buckley,” a stagehand says, appearing seemingly out of nowhere with earbuds in hand. He was told ahead of time that he would be wearing them so he could hear better once he’s out on stage. “It’s time.”

“They said you were leavin', someone's swept your heart away. From the look upon your face, I see it's true.”

The stagehand gently pushes Buck forward and with that, Buck finds himself stepping out of the shadows. Like a sailor being pulled to the shore, he walks towards the siren that’s going to change his life, for better or for worse.

“So tell me all about it, tell me ‘bout the plans you’re makin’. Oh, then tell me one thing more before I go.”

The lights on the stage fade and a spotlight lands on Buck as he walks onto the stage. Priscilla jumps off the stool and it’s only then that Eddie turns in Buck’s direction.

Time stops when their eyes meet.

Eddie has never been an overly emotive person. A lifetime of being told to ‘man up’ and to ‘take things like a man’ stole that ability out from under him. And yet, there is no denying the tears that well in Eddie’s eyes as he takes Buck in.

Buck has waited for what feels like forever to be looked at like this. To be seen.

And to be seen like this by Eddie? Buck is sure there’s no greater feeling in the world.

“Tell me, how am I supposed to live without you?” Eddie sings directly at Buck as he walks towards him too. They meet somewhere in the middle, just like they’ve been doing for the past three years. It’s a magnetic pull that Buck is tired of fighting. “Now that I’ve been loving you so long.”

Eddie is close, so close, now.

Somehow it’s still not close enough.

“And how can I blame you when I built my world around the hope that one day, we'd be so much more than friends?”

It’s a lyric and a confession all rolled into one, the perfect encapsulation of how Buck has felt for too long. And, if the way Eddie’s voice cracks on the last word is any indication, it’s how he’s felt too.

“How am I supposed to live without you and how am I supposed to carry on? When all that I’ve been livin’ for is gone.”

Buck barely registers the flashing lights and hysterical screaming that is amplified by the song ending. He is too busy looking into the eyes of the man he loves.

Unlike Michael Bolton, Buck had to learn how to spend these past few months living without Eddie. Now that he has, he knows for certain that he never wants to do it again.

“You sang a song for me.”

Eddie laughs before resting his forehead against Buck’s “You weren’t answering my calls.”

“Michael Bolton though? Feels a little dramatic.” Buck is aiming for nonchalance but is unsure how much of a success that is. It’s hard to tell when it feels like his heart’s going to beat right out of his chest and take its rightful place alongside Eddie’s.

“It got you here, didn’t it?”

“You got me there.”

Buck doesn’t know what happens after this. There are conversations to be had, logistics to figure out, a young child to take into consideration and so much more.

But those are all things to worry about later.

For now, Buck is content to bask in the glory of this moment, this revelation, with Eddie.

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #my writing

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