Fuck it Friday
Here’s Buck and May’s first meeting from I’ve been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night (now I’m wide awake). I’m so close to finishing this one. It was meant to be just a small 2K fic but it’s more like 5K now .. whoops 😅. Got a few things left to type and then I can edit and maybe get someone to read it and she’ll be good to go!
Prev snippet here.
Buck closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, letting the sea air fill his lungs to the brim. Evan Buckley has finally been boxed up, tape sealing the lid shut. This is his fresh start. He exhales, opening his eyes and setting off in search of breakfast and coffee, so much coffee.
The Main Street of town consists of different shop fronts including a grocery store, flower shop, hardware store, butcher and a cafe called Abuela’s. Buck sighs in relief as he opens the door to the cafe and it quickly turns into an appreciative moan as the smell of freshly brewed coffee hits him.
“If you’re letting out sounds like that just from smelling the coffee, we may need to put a warning sign up on the door for the noises you make when you actually drink some.”
A blush begins to creep up Buck’s neck as he looks behind the counter where a young woman is standing. She’s maybe 18 or 19 with warm brown skin, dark brown shoulder length hair and a face that should really be on tv or in magazines. She’s beautiful, and Buck can tell just from her kind eyes and warm smile that it’s not just a skin deep beauty.
“Uh sorry, it’s- it’s been a long couple of days and I’ve been living off of shitty gas station coffee and- and whatever they’ve had in their hot boxes.” He rubs the back of his neck, ducking his head sheepishly.
“Well today you’re going to be having fresh coffee and an equally fresh breakfast.” The young woman states, leaning casually against the counter. “I’d go with the chocolate chip pancakes, they’re extremely popular and for good reason.” She picks up a menu and slides it across the countertop towards Buck who steps forward to grab it, leafing through the pages. “I’m May by the way.”
May holds her hand out towards him and Buck accepts it, shaking her hand. “I’m Buck, and chocolate chip pancakes sound amazing.” She smiles at him and Buck is helpless but to return it with one of his own, a genuine Buck smile, not the fake one he’s had to wear for so many years. “And the biggest cup of coffee you have. I don’t care what kind, surprise me.”
No pressure tagging: @jamespearce9-1-1 @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @callmenewbie @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @wikiangela @lover-of-mine @rainbow-nerdss @giddyupbuck @devirnis @fortheloveofbuddie @loserdiaz @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @wildlife4life @weewootruck @exhuastedpigeon @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley @try-set-me-on-fire @athenagranted @disasterbuckdiaz @fiona-fififi @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @ladydorian05 @clusterbuck @captain-hen @bekkachaos @monsterrae1 @prettyboybuckley
59 notes
·
View notes
On The Topic Of Eddie.
First of all, he’s completely fucked. He’s screwed. I’ve said it a thousand times and I’ll say it again: I’ve never seen a character more doomed by the narrative.
Second, Eddie’s halloween costume was Frankenstein’s Monster. And pray tell, what was the Monster’s whole thing? That he’s betrayed by his own creator, rejected / attacked by the town, deeply misunderstood & interpreted as a violent beast despite being well-read and helpful/benevolent. There are some interesting ties there - especially with the Misunderstood Despite Being Well-Read (switch out violent beast with forgetful klutz and it’s a perfect fit). That, plus Eddie’s description of “...brought back from the dead… by the scientist… stitches… a deathly pallor… a bit of a moral conundrum…”
Take that and add it to how Eddie resembles the “night” side of the clocks (this will be expanded upon with Sally in a different post), and how @/theneighborhoodwatch once pointed out that the color purple is only shown in relation to Eddie & may represent secrets, how in livestream trivia it was implied that Eddie doesn’t sleep at night as he is a “busy guy”, and how Sally’s “monster” only comes out at night and likely isn’t a monster at all - she is dramatic, an embellisher, and said to present things that she herself doesn’t know / is uncertain of As Fact, or at least present them as if she knows exactly what she’s talking about (even when she doesn’t and knows it).
Another tidbit that I may have mentioned but I’ll bring it up again: Eddie’s eyelashes match the scalloped trim under Home’s windows. Three round curves.
As an additional tally in the “Eddie is soooo fucked <3” scoreboard, Eddie is the mailman in a story where one of the first things we knew to be actually happening was the WHRP receiving letters of Welcome Home media (now I’m not saying Eddie sent them, certainly not. He may or may not have had a hand in helping with the delivery, but what I mean with this is how it ties in symbolically/abstractly/thematically.) That plus the red envelope, the general unfolding delivery theme… Eddie even has a holiday explicitly associated with him - Mail-In Time Day.
Then there’s the fact that Eddie tends to express Knowledge and a more worldly disposition, in a way. Despite Frank being mentioned as the neighborhood “intellectual”, and he is so with facts, Eddie seems to have a deeper well of… let’s say cultural know-how. Pair that with how his bio is the only one to say/imply that he comes from elsewhere, that he’s been Around. Everyone else came from their family or don’t have a stated before, but Eddie? He was strongly implied to have delivered to a lot of different places - this is made into a running gag, but we all know a running gag for the Show has deeper implications and meanings.
And the fact that his genuine knowledge as well as his past are consistently dismissed and/or played off for laughs…
IMPORTANT NOTE FOR THIS NEXT BIT: I CANNOT FIND THE OG ASK OUTSIDE OF SCREENSHOTS SO TAKE ALL OF THIS WITH A MASSIVE GRAIN OF SALT, AS THERE IS THE POSSIBILITY THAT THE ASK WAS FROM PRE-2021 AND SO - ALONG WITH THIS SPEC CHUNK - IT MAY BE NULL & VOID. BUT IT ALSO MAY NOT BE! SO I’LL TALK.
A while back - this is related I swear - there was an ask Clown answered where they talked about some of his notes on Eddie. The first part that I want to point out is how apparently Eddie is a good source for information (specifically How-To), but despite being talkative he doesn’t share unless prodded for it. This directly relates to the above points.
Then there’s the one I really want to talk about - how Clown says that “He [Eddie] has a great deal of precision for someone who presents themselves as a semi-clumsy busybody!”
That single line made me insane, personally. First, the wording. The choice of saying presents themselves as instead of something like for someone who is. There’s an obvious discrepancy between his precision and clumsiness. Now I don’t doubt that he may be a tad accident-prone, but what if Eddie is dialing up the clumsy nature to disarm his Neighbors / craft a specific reputation for himself / give himself leeway in other areas.
On one hand, this is suspicious as fuck.
On the other hand, this is so adhd of him.
One of the things rarely mentioned about it is how sometimes we adhders will play up our more “useless” traits in order to create a bit of a social safety net. Admittedly, I will sometimes play up my forgetfulness so that a) if i do forget things (truth more often than not), people aren’t surprised. b) when i remember things, people are pleasantly surprised. I mean, if people start thinking we’re competent then they’ll start Expecting things from us, which is never a good thing!
And another thing that relates to it that that ask said - Clown says in it that Eddie is slow to anger, but he gets frustrated more easily. Which is fascinating and very relatable. They also said that he can’t talk about it without wandering too far, which - if the post is viable - has… implications.
Anyway I am very confident that Eddie is in fact adhd. List of reasons (refer to the wiki trivia Eddie Dear section for sources):
He’s forgetful
He gets so involved with a task and cannot break away until it’s finished, thus often making him late
He’s particular
He has a watch - likely to help him keep track of time, implying that he has difficulty with the concept (time blindness!)
He is very talkative and rambley
& seems to have slight difficulty with picking up on social cues telling him when to / when not to speak
He’s slow to anger but more easily frustrated
Beyond all of this I don’t have much to add that I haven’t already talked about in a previous post! I’m sure even so I’ve restated some (or a lot of) things - it Happens!
In conclusion: bbg is so screwed & also adhd <3
122 notes
·
View notes
hi! may i request some mikoto + amane (platonic obvs) … anything? they are very dear to me 😭
Yes!!! Thank you so much for the request -- they really are such a good pair ;-; (The thing is, I had so many nice scenes in mind about how they parallel each other, but they wouldn't know or reveal that about each other so I kept restarting...) Anyway, here's something right after Mikoto's first trial/verdict!
Mikoto could pick up on someone’s bad mood from a mile away, though the skill was unnecessary when the other party very clearly and calmly informed him, “I’m in a bad mood.”
After refusing his offer, Amane turned back to a thick textbook she’d been taking notes on. Didn’t kids usually complain that school was already a prison? She must have wanted the full experience. He'd worked nonstop at his studies as well, but this was a new level. Amane often reminded him of his little sister, though she always took the extra step like this. His sister would have jumped at this opportunity to play a few rounds of their favorite card game.
“It’ll be fun!”
He flashed a smile, but it had no effect on her severe expression. “I know you’re just trying to comfort me about our verdicts. I refuse to be pitied.”
“Comfort and pity are two very different things. But anyway, it wasn’t either of those things.” He gave an easy shrug “To be honest, I’m just a little bored. It’s weird not having any work to do during the day.”
Mikoto couldn’t remember the last time in his life he’d had so many hours to himself. A lot of the others were fun to play games with. A few of the sportier prisoners helped him stay active. He enjoyed smoking breaks with the other men. Still, he was left to his own devices for the majority of his time. It was maddening. He’d recently requested some more art supplies, having used up the last batch, but they had yet to come in. Now with the verdict announcement, he wasn’t sure they’d ever arrive.
“That is your own problem. I already have something to do.” Her eyes lingered on the cards for the briefest of moments before returning to the book. “I told you, I’m not in the mood for it.”
Regardless of her hostility, he took a seat beside her. He leaned his arms out on the table. “We don’t have to play the same game.” The last time they'd played as a big group, several prisoners pulling the tables together to fit everyone. Amane had kept very quiet, eyes darting around at the cards as she tried to keep up with the rules. Not many of the others noticed the frustration clear in her face. Mikoto wasn’t the type to let her win out of pity, though he had begun to mutter the rules and strategies to himself a bit more as the night went on…
“Is there a game you liked to play at home?”
“No. There was no time for games in the house.”
“All work and no play… hah… I know what that’s like.” He slumped his cheek onto his arm, lazily shuffling the cards around. He felt bad for bothering the girl if she truly was upset. He thought it was the bad experience that made her reject him, he hadn’t realized there were also family issues attached. Usually he could read people well; maybe he was losing his touch. He seemed to be losing touch with a lot of things, these days.
He readied a game of solitaire.
“Mikoto?” Amane kept her face turned away. “There was… one game.”
“Yeah?” Mikoto shuffled the cards back together. He slid them over to her. “You should teach me!”
She didn’t touch them. “You probably already know it.”
“Nah, I only know a few games. I’m better with tarot cards, though those aren’t really the gaming type. Come on, what is it?”
She told him the name of the game, insisting it wouldn’t be worth playing. She kept her attention on the textbook, but her eyes weren’t reading any of it.
“Ahh, I’ve heard of that one! We start with four cards, right?” He started dealing them out.
“No, five –” she pointed to the deck, urging him to add two more.
“Right, right.” He laughed lightly. “And the goal is to get pairs, and put them in a pile, uhh, here.”
Amane shook her head. She shifted her body slightly towards him. “You must be thinking of a different game. There’s actually three piles for pairs. One here, one here, and when it’s your opponent’s turn…”
Her eyes gleamed as she explained the rules. She pointed to various cards, telling him exact moves and point values. “And to win, you need to –” Her expression shifted. “You… you already knew all this.”
“Of course not!” He put on his most convincing smile.
She deflated. “You’re not a very good liar.”
“Tch, tell that to the warden.”
His shoulders sagged along with her. If Amane could see right through him, why was the rest of Milgram still coming up with stories about what he did and didn’t do? “Well, I might already know the rules, but it’s been a long time since I’ve played. You can still give me a hand. Plus, if you really are in such a bad mood, it’ll be good to take a break from your studies. You should always take a break when things get too overwhelming, yeah?”
She gave him a withering stare.
“Eh? What’s that face for?”
“Alright, let’s play. You can go first.”
“I mean it, what was that look? Aw, come on…”
24 notes
·
View notes