i feel i should preface this with saying that this relationship analysis "takes place" before qcellbit's emotional exhaustion and motivation crash---
---but i have been having SUCH crazy thoughts abt the archivists (qcellbit n qphilza). guy who needs evidence of Everything 🤝 guy who takes pictures of and hoards Everything. two-cars-passing-each-other meme whenever cellbit (practically nocturnal at this point) makes a late-night run to the Ordo to grab some notes he left there and bumps into phil (trouble sleeping ever since the birdhouse incident) who's sitting in one of the evidence rooms organizing a new backpack of photos to hand over to cellbit.
"oh. hey phil." "hi mate."
their conversations and interactions center mostly around cellbit's investigations---the ones cellbit lets the public know about, anyway---and whatever new info phil managed to scoop up since the last time they saw each other. theories are exchanged, and photos are passed between them as easily as pleasantries. "how're you doing?" "oh, doin' alright, doin' alright. you?" "eh. busy, you know?"
they don't talk about much else.
see, they both understand secrets. intimately. things you did you would much rather leave behind you, if you can, or thoughts, worries, doubts you would much rather keep to yourself for fear of speaking them into existence. sealed lips; a tight lid. they look at each other and know they're only seeing what the other wants them to see, but that's okay. they get it. sometimes, it's just easier to focus on what is directly in front of you. what you can see, what you can touch; what you know is true, what you know is real.
what you can do.
so cellbit generates and bounces his theories off of phil, and phil is more than happy to be a sounding board. phil fills up a backpack with photographs, and cellbit is more than happy to take it off his hands. they focus on The Work, on the spiderweb of red string and loose ends and grainy pictures and scrawled notes pinned to the wall, madness-incarnate sprawled out before them. they trust each other's judgement, and they trust each other's skills, and they trust each other, and neither asks too many questions. they both appreciate it.
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[ID: a series of digital doodles and sketches based on the owl house, featuring either Willow or Hunter. The first image is a coloured sketch of Willow in her flyer derby uniform flying casually through the sky on her staff. Hunter can be seen in the background, and is labeled "lover boy" with a thought bubble indicating he's thinking about willows arms. The sketch is coloured and shaded and the palette is a mix of a sunset and the pansexual flag.
The next image is a doodle of Willow in I Was A Teenage Abomination next to Willow in Any Sport in a Storm. The younger willow is shorter and stands shyly while the older Willow is taller and more confident, winking at her younger self. Orange hearts are drawn around them. The doodle is coloured and shaded.
The next image is a simple black and white doodle of Willow, Hunter, Amity and Luz in their designs from thanks to them, based on the three weed smoking girlfriends meme. In the foreground willow says "my three (sort of) (ex) girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed" while in the background, Luz coughs smoking a blunt, hunter looks on stoned while holding a bong, and amity looks uncomfortable holding a blunt.
The final doodle is a drawing of Hunter in hunting palismen next to Hunter in for the future. Both are in profile facing towards each other with the younger Hunter on the left and current Hunter on the right. Younger Hunter has slightly greyer skin, deeper eye bags and an unhappy expression, while current Hunter has brighter skin and a sad, fond expression. The doodle is coloured and labeled "HE WANTS TO BE NICE SO BAD!!!" Multiple times across the canvas. End ID]
Monthly doodle dump lmao. Yes I'm still gonna post the FTF reqs, it probably won't be until after exams are done, whoopsy. The theme of this doodle dump is "I love willow park and her boygirlfriend so fucking much"
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Chenford + when did you fall for me?
"When did you fall for me?" He asks the question softly, knowing she'll hear it over the crackling of the fire and the intensity of her thoughts. It's quiet, almost like he doesn't want to ask, but he knows she'll hear his tone and know it's genuine.
She knows him in that way.
He hopes that for the most part, he knows her in that way, too.
Tim watches as Lucy chews on her lower lip in thought, his teeth pressing lightly into the skin of his own lip.
Something about the combination of the cool air, the wine she'd poured in his glass, and the way she's been smiling at him tonight have him buzzing beneath the surface – enough that he'd wanted to ask her this, enough that he wanted to hear the answer. They've been skirting around the reality of it: when did you realize we were oh-so-much-more, he assumes because she thinks it will derail them entirely, but more likely because...well, he's never actually asked.
It's been hard to wrap his mind around the idea that they're in this incredibly serious relationship when he doesn't remember any of it – and harder still to try and convince himself they shouldn't be. He knows what Lucy thinks: she thinks he doesn't understand, could never feel the way she feels, hasn't let himself drift into that mindset.
What he really feels is a hell of a lot more complicated, though. He gets it entirely, if not more because she's been actively loving him through this. He doesn't remember their relationship at all, and she's doing the work for both of them.
How could he not be hopelessly in love with her?
That's where it gets complicated, though – because he loves her for her, but he loves her for him, too. He needs to untangle that before he can let himself anywhere near her, truly – because she deserves a selfless love. She deserves someone who puts in the effort for her, who doesn't just love her because she loves them harder.
She lets out a soft laugh and pulls him back, raising her brow. "It's a bad answer," she offers, and Tim tips his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at her. "What? It is."
"Lay it on me," he shrugs, taking a slow sip of his wine. "I'm sure it's not that bad."
"It's a non-answer," she takes a sip from her glass, holding his gaze as she pulls it away from her mouth. "It wasn't one moment. I fell for you in a million little moments – hearing you call me Lucy after you handed me my final evaluation, offering me a ratty old pair of sweatpants when I stayed at your place after Jackson died," she offers him a sad, solemn smile. "Letting me talk my way into being your aide, inviting me to tear down your childhood home with your sister – god, even," she presses her hand to her face for a moment and he leans in closer, just wanting to be near her. "Even you calling me fucking goat whisperer in front of a date had me swooning. You don't even realize you're doing it, too – which is even more annoying. You just exist as this...wonderfully irritating version of yourself that I can't help but be ass over feet in love with."
Tim swallows, keeping his eyes focused on her. "If you had to pick one," he breathes, grinning as she rolls her eyes at him, visibly annoyed. "What? You said I was irritating, didn't you?"
Lucy bites on the rim of her wine glass, taking a sip and then setting it down. "Just one moment?" He nods, pressing his lips together. She sighs, tapping her fingers against her chin and then dropping them, humming over at him. "I think I really knew the first time you hugged me. That's cheesy and it's not really true, but I...we'd never," she pushes her hair off her face with a one-handed sweep and he wants to slide his hand over her cheek, bring her close, feel her breath on his skin. "We'd never touched like that before, and I didn't want you to let go. You...I stayed at your place," she has that expression she gets when she feels like she needs to fill in the gaps for him, and he nods slowly, hoping she'll breathe and calm down. "You invited me over after Jackson died, said I shouldn't be alone. You hugged me and I," she lets out a soft, hiccuping laugh, "I don't know, I didn't want you to stop. I didn't know what I was feeling then, but I know it now. You were keeping me still. You were grounding me," she shrugs. "Turns out, that's what we do for each other."
He lets out a slow, steady breath. "You knew you loved me, then?"
She hums in thought. "No," she laughs. "When I think about it now, I loved you something fierce, then. In the moment? I'd never been more confused about what I was feeling in my life. You were warm, and steady, and I could follow your heartbeat. You confused the absolute shit out me, but...somehow, a little less than everything else did," she smiles over at him softly. "So, everything you do now...just, unnamed."
Tim takes a sip from his glass, reaching over and grabbing her hand. He laces their fingers and squeezes them gently. "So what you're telling me is that we're on the same page," he murmurs, after setting his wine down. "Confused, but intrigued. Enamored, for some reason."
She raises her brows at him. "You're enamored with me, huh?"
He lets out a low, rough laugh. "I've been enamored with you for a long time I remember that much."
He's pretty sure Lucy's smile is enough to keep him asking her questions all night long.
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