#TWO FUCKING FICS CAME OUT OF THAT

[yawnzshit]

need them both in a way that is concerning to feminism like men covered in blood sign me THE FUCK up.

[muirmarie]

Me: I joke about writing the same McCoy centric story over and over again in different ways

Me: and like. I love doing it and imma keep doing it because it makes me happy.

Me: but also. I do sometimes wonder if it's like. A little Much.

Me: like maybe I should branch out or something

Me: [reads another fundamental and extremely insulting misread of McCoy's character by someone who is clearly making a Choice to cast McCoy as the villain, because they have to get him out of the way of spirk, because they're too???? idk immature??? to realize that even when you're in a relationship with one person, other ppl can and SHOULD still be important to you]

Me: lmao I hope I AM too much actually!!!! I hope it is 100% obnoxious how much I love that doctor!!!!! Time to write more versions of the same story of McCoy being forced to realize that he is loved and cared for!!!!!!

Me: I KNOW MY NICHE AND IMMA DIE IN THAT NICHE, THANKS

[helpimstuckposting]

TW: mentions of homophobia, brief f-slur mention More silly conversations and goofy friendship moments that Steve hasn't had in a while! I just love the Robin/Steve/Eddie dynamic, it's my favorite out of everything so I hope you like and I did it justice

I’m a ghost and you are a shadow

Part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven

—

After their midnight talk, Steve couldn’t just go back to bed. There were too many thoughts, too many emotions, too much going on in the past day for his mind to quiet enough to let sleep take him. Instead, Eddie kept him company in the kitchen. They talked about the other Steve, Eddie hesitant at first, but Steve reassured him he wanted to know more about the man he could have been, the one everyone saw when they looked at him.

It was interesting, hearing all the differences of his life that appeared from the crossroads of his father living and dying. Apparently, Richard Harrington had died in some sort of travel accident when Steve was four. Eddie didn’t quite know the details, he’d never asked, but the rumor around town was that Mr Harrington had gone off on a business trip the morning of Steve’s fourth birthday. He came back in a casket.

Steve could vaguely recall begging his father to stay home for his birthday that year. He’d begged and begged until his father relented, it was probably the best birthday Steve could remember. And yet, because of that, the rest of Steve’s childhood suffered. Oh, the irony, Steve thought.

They went over some of the pictures hanging on the photo wall, Eddie dramatically re-enacting a few of them, though Steve could tell it was hard. If Eddie’s rings were his armor, Steve thought maybe his DM persona was a shield. Like it was easier to remain detached if he pretended they were campaigns and not memories.

Steve also noticed that since their talk outside, Eddie refrained from calling the other Steve ‘his Steve’. He just called him Steve, just like it was another person who happened to have the same name. It was nice, like Steve wasn’t a replacement or the same person or a mistake. He was just Steve, and so was this other guy. Two different people with the same name, like it was normal.

It was a relief, in those moments, to be someone new, someone separate from the other Steve. It made him feel a little less like he was taking up space he shouldn’t be in, and Steve thought maybe that was Eddie’s intention. He said Steve wasn’t taking someone else’s place, and he kept his word.

At some point, before the sun rose, the stairs creaked with footsteps. The two had been crouched over the counter with cups of coffee, legs too numb from sitting for hours. Robin swayed sleepily into the kitchen, blinking one eye at a time before rubbing at them with her balled up fists. She looked kind of like a toddler who was searching for her parents. Steve snorted into his mug, setting it down before he choked on the liquid inside. Robin’s eyes narrowed at him, before she rolled her eyes and lazily lifted two fingers up in a peace sign.

“Sup, Dingi,” she croaked, voice not quite awake yet.

Steve shared a look with Eddie, scrunching his nose up in a sneer and nodding silently toward Robin, what the hell did she just say?

Eddie snorted and took a gulp from his mug, a silent don’t ask me, sent back.

Robin sighed and pointed to Steve, “One dingus,” she said, then pointed to Eddie, “two dingi,” she concluded, before wandering over to Steve and stealing his mug of coffee. She clasped it in her hands and shuffled over to the other side of the counter island, plopping herself into a stool. “So what were you two lovely ladies talking about at four in the morning?”

“I was telling Stevie here about that one time Steve bet you couldn’t beat his track time and you sprinted so hard you threw up in your lunch bag before band.” Robin squawked, slamming the mug down on the counter and leaning threateningly toward Eddie.

She jabbed a finger at him, “Not cool Munson, we agreed that story went to the grave!”

Eddie laughed maniacally, bouncing in his place, “I lied, Buckley, tough shit!”

As Robin leapt from her stool to chase Eddie around the kitchen island, Steve silently stole his mug back to watch it all play out. He’d dreamed of this so many times, the casual teasing and horsing around just like the kids did. He’d never had a large group of genuine friends, just Tommy and Carol and whoever else they deemed cool enough to join them that week. It was never light hearted jokes and stupid faces, it was silent smoking and jabs that were too sharp, too mean spirited. Carol taught him how to hold himself, how to look intimidating and aloof. She’d never in a million years stoop down to make herself look stupid for a laugh or to cheer someone up. She was calculated, like his mother, but now he wondered if things had been different, would she have been happy too? Does a Carol or Tommy in this universe chase someone around a counter to make them laugh? Or any other universe?

After a couple laps around the kitchen island, Robin caught up to Eddie, tugging his back to her chest and lifting him off his feet. She looked like a wrestler trying to suplex Eddie into the ground but she couldn’t get him higher than a couple inches, tops. Steve snorted into his coffee again as Eddie shrieked, shards of pain stabbing through his nose as he coughed the liquid back out of his lungs and sinuses. There were tears in his eyes from the choking and the laughter and the tightness in his chest, and after hacking up the dredges of coffee in his lungs he kept watch as Eddie kicked and screeched and Robin struggled to keep him in her arms.

Eddie threw himself forward so his feet finally landed back on the ground, and it was Robin’s turn to yell as she was hoisted onto Eddie’s back from the sudden movement. She still refused to let go as Eddie rapidly stalked around the counter, squatting to keep Robin’s weight on his back as she kept his arms pinned to his side.

Steve could watch them fight it out for hours, if he were honest and it had been years since he’d laughed this hard. The rest of the party was going to show up eventually today and they’d have to start looking into the gates, but for now Steve watched and laughed and rolled his eyes as Robin finally gave up her hold and slid off Eddie’s back, pooling onto the floor like a sad little puddle.

“First you break our vow, then you try and murder me, and for what? For what, Munson? I know where you sleep!” She mumbled into the tile.

Eddie crouched down to lean over her, smug look plastered over his face. “I’m pretty sure you tried to murder me, this was purely self defense.”

“And I’m sure the cops would say you had it coming!” She said, lifting herself off the floor and sitting back in her stool. She snatched Steve’s mug up, took a sip and then squinted at him, slowly lowering the mug to the counter and pointing at it.

“Did you spit in this?”

“Not on purpose,” he replied, voice still a bit hoarse from the coughing fit. She gagged dramatically and shoved the cup back in his hands, standing to pour her own.

“It’s about time you learned how to be self-reliant,” Eddie teased, sitting down in the next stool over, across from Steve who remained leaning over the counter, elbows holding his weight on the shiny granite while his ankles were crossed behind him.

“Shut the whole fuck up, Munson, or I swear to god-,”

“How did you three meet, anyway?” Steve asked, cutting off whatever threat Robin was about to throw out. He looked back and forth between Eddie in front of him, and Robin behind him fixing her mug of coffee. He watched as the two shared a look, both a little sad at the reminder that their Steve was gone. Or at least, that’s what Steve assumed the look was, the droop to their smiles telling Steve maybe he shouldn’t have asked. However, before he could take it back, Robin sat back down in the stool next to Eddie and started to answer.

“We were all in band together,” she said as Eddie nodded and silently took a sip from his mug.

“Band?” Steve asked. He knew Eddie and Robin were in the high school band in his universe, but they hadn’t become friends as far as he knew.

“You and Eddie played sax,” she said. Steve tried to cover his flinch at the mention of ‘you’, the reminder that they all expected him to be someone he wasn’t sparking uncomfortably in his head.

“Steve and I sat right in front of Buckley here, who always had a penchant for playing just a little too close to my ear,” Eddie chimed in, shoving his shoulder against Robins.

“Well Eddie here was never a team player, always skipping ahead or pretending to play when he didn’t like the music,” she shoved right back.

“I never-,” Steve started, pausing when the two pairs of eyes locked onto him. “I never learned any instruments.” He sighed, fiddling with the mostly empty cup in his hands. Their eyes felt like lasers boring into his head. “Mom signed me up for piano classes when I was little, but my dad said the arts were for ‘females, fruits, and fags’ so I never got the chance to finish.”

“Well hey, I’m a female and a fruit,” Robin said.

“And I’m a fag!” Eddie said, turning to Robin for an enthusiastic high five. “Guess Mr Harrington was right, huh Stevie?” he said sarcastically. Steve swallowed nervously around the saliva pooling in his mouth. He actually didn’t know about Eddie, had maybe suspected sometimes but it had never been confirmed. It felt… weird that this seemed like something he should know, but he didn’t and now he does but Eddie never told him. Or, well, he did just tell him but he also didn’t and now he knew something that he wasn’t sure he was allowed to know.

“Oh shit,” Eddie mumbled, “did you… uh,” he glanced between Steve and Robin, “did you not know about us?”

Steve shook his head, “I uh, I knew about Robin, but not…”

Eddie winced. The giddy look in his eye from the playful banter was gone, and he seemed… sadder, like Steve had just tossed water over a campfire and killed the light. “Why does it feel like I just outed someone else?” Eddie mumbled to Robin. She grimaced and set a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder, sharing a warm look that Steve once again couldn’t read. Again, he felt like an outsider watching over two strangers. The side of the counter he was leaning against seemed cold and wide, a million miles away from where Robin and Eddie sat side by side.

“Well anyway,” Eddie scooted closer to the counter, clinking his empty mug against Steve’s, “regardless of the Eddie you know, I’m gay so… welcome to the Queer Closet of Hawkins, you’re officially on the guest list and it’s a very exclusive honor.”

Steve chuckled, awed by the way Eddie had just closed the chasm between them. The metalhead grinned, patting the stool on his left and closing that gap even more. Steve placed his cup in the sink behind him and walked around the counter to sit in the vacant seat, the gap completely shut with a final click as Eddie lightly patted Steve’s knee.

“So what about you?” He asked, “how did you meet Robin and Eddie?”

Steve laughed, “it’s uh… a much longer story.” Eddie nodded eagerly and Robin pulled a leg up to squish under her on the stool, leaning against the counter to look over Eddie and nod just as enthusiastically. Steve looked back and forth between the two, feeling more whole than he had even just a few hours ago.

He shook his head fondly and launched into the story of Scoops, Russians, Steve and Robin’s unfortunate drug-filled escapade through the mall, and Dustin’s weird ability to imprint on older teens. Eddie laughed at that, tossing his head back and almost falling backward out of his stool.

“I was so annoyed! Dustin wouldn’t shut up about his cool new friend Eddie who played D&D and understood all his references. Eddie who was ‘the best DM ever’, who was ‘so cool, you don’t get it, Steve’ the little shit.”

Robin was leaning against Eddie’s back now, arms thrown over his shoulders to keep him planted in his stool. “Oh, oh!” she exclaimed, smacking Eddie in the chest as she thought of something.

He grabbed her wrist, stopping her from hitting him again. “Jesus, Buckley, spit it out,” he grumbled, shooting eyes at Steve, who just smiled back at him.

“Does your Robin have any game? A girlfriend? Is she cooler than me?” She asked excitedly.

Steve snorted, “I don’t think any Robin Buckley has ever had game.”

“Hey!” Robin exclaimed, and then squinted at him, assessing something in her head. “No, yeah, that makes sense,” she conceded, bobbing her head back and forth.

“She did have a massive crush on this girl Vicky from band, though, and they got pretty close. I always told Robin to go for it, because Vicky? Not straight, not at all,” he swore to them, pointing back and forth as emphasis.

“Ah, Vicky,” Robin sighed dreamily, “she was so cute.” Eddie rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Steve like he’d heard way too much about Vicky for a lifetime. “I never did get the chance to see if Steve was right about that.”

This time Steve rolled his eyes, "Of course I'm right, she was totally giving you eyes, like, constantly I can't believe you would doubt me!" he scoffed, missing for a second that he had slipped in and made himself her Steve, what he'd been trying to avoid this whole time. He had to remind himself constantly; he wasn't their Steve, he was an outsider, he was a different person. He remembered what Eddie had said by the pool; he's not a placeholder, he's not stealing someone's spot, he's his own person.

Still, with the jokes and banter and laughter, it was so so easy to just slip up and forget. He brushed it off, hoping they would too or even better that they wouldn't notice his mistake or the slight dim to his smile before catching himself. Luckily, Eddie and Robin were as close to reading his mind as possible it seemed and the three powered forward as if the slip never happened.

As it turns out, in this universe the Russian fiasco still happened, in nearly the same way. The only difference between Steve's story and Robin's story was that they'd already been friends for years, had applied to Scoops together, just like Family Video. Eddie had been working in the record store on the second floor, but was off with Wayne for a fishing trip at the time. Everything else was the same.

"I can't believe that was our first test of friendship, oh my god," Robin whined, smushing her face up with her hands and dragging them down, pulling her features with them.

"I'm still so mad I missed that, I was so useless and I had no idea until Wayne and I came back and everything was fucked. What if Samwise was on vacation and he just came back and Bilbo was suddenly a hero, missing a finger, traumatized from all this shit Sam had no idea about! I spent the rest of that summer feeling like I had missed your whole lives," Eddie said. Steve wasn't quite sure who the hell he was talking about, but there was something else in his eyes, something that Steve still hadn't translated and couldn't put his finger on. He wondered if Eddie would tell him, eventually, wondered if he'd ever be able to read those looks before they had to shove him back through the gate to his desolate wasteland of a universe.

He shoved that thought away from his mind, locked in a little box labelled 'for later', and trekked on through their morning. It would probably only be an hour now before the party showed up to finalize plans and start splitting up to put it in motion. He sighed and looked between Eddie and Robin, still going through random memories, teasing, poking, and laughing at each other. 'For Later' he whispered in the dark of his mind, joining back into the conversation as if he'd never left. He'd worry about it then, for now he was more content than ever to just sit here at the dark kitchen island as the sun kept up its rise over the horizon. He'd sit, and listen, and contribute, and laugh, and everything else could come later.

—

@devondespresso @weirdandabsurd42 @sirsnacksalot @space-invading-pigeon @aliea82 @goodolefashionedloverboi @emly03 @bestwifehaver @mentallyundone @13catastrophic-blues @estrellami-1 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @likelylad @aellafreya @wxrmland @shunna @fangirltofangod @howincrediblysapphicofyou

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer Polyship Week 2024, Day Two: “Blorbo Has Two Hands” (Soulmate AU)

It's Day Two of Valicer Polyship Week 2024, "sponsored" by @polyshipweek, and today's prompt is "Blorbo Has Two Hands!" This prompt, as per PolyshipWeek's write-up on the matter, is all about "The rallying cry of polyshippers everywhere: Why have a love triangle when you can have a trio of lovers instead?" and how the polycule makes love, not war. This is naturally an excellent prompt, but I wasn't sure whether I was going to use it or one of the other ones when it came to writing a story for Day Two --

Aaaand then Wednesday, November 6th happened. And after rather a lot of time spent staring at the prompts with no inspiration because I was still feeling kind of numb inside over the fucking election results, I came back to the list right before going to bed, looked at "Blorbo Has Two Hands" again, and thought, "You know what, I can probably do something with that and my Soulmates AU -- specifically, someone doubting the trio are all actually soulmates because multiple soulmates isn't a common thing in that verse." So I drafted out a story about Smiler, working at a bar post-the trio fleeing England to avoid the wrath of Kelman, the wrath of Victor's parents, and possibly the wrath of the police after Alice killed Bumby, getting harassed by a customer who didn't believe them when they said that both they and Alice were Victor's soulmates -- only to get proven wrong when said soulmates showed up to find out why Smiler was suddenly feeling so upset. It was pretty rough, but I figured it worked for the prompt --

And then I went, "Hang on...didn't I just do something like this yesterday?" For indeed, this story was rather similar, at least in general theme, to the "Alice vs Nessa" Valicer In The Dark tale I wrote for Day One. But given my mental state at the time, I couldn't come up with anything better for Day Two. So I left it be and gave myself a choice -- either try to write a different story later, or lean into the theme and do a Victor-POV story of some jerk inserting their nose into the polycule's business and getting theirs for Day Three.

...given the story I'm about to present is the "Smiler gets harassed by a customer about whether or not multiple soulmates is a thing" story, you can probably guess what I chose. XD For now, here is your Day Two story! Sorry it took a bit to get there! XD

--

“So – Mister Van Dort over there is your soulmate?”

“Yup,” Smiler confirmed, smiling over at the table where Victor was currently involved in what looked like a rather intense conversation with Alice, his hands flying all over the place as they spoke. “We met at one of his parents’ parties – ended up in the same corner together, started commiserating over the fact that we both hated stuffy social gatherings, went to formally introduce ourselves by shaking hands, and – well.” Smiler grinned down at their own hands, currently drying a glass. “Suddenly the party was that much better.”

“I see,” their current customer – a fellow named Robert, who apparently ran a woodworking shop in town – murmured, nursing his third whiskey. “And Missus Van Dort is – all right with that?”

Smiler tilted their head. “Er – yes. Why wouldn’t she be?”

Robert raised an eyebrow at Smiler. “Because – she’s his wife?” he said slowly, as if they were an idiot. “And would likely want to be her husband’s soulmate?”

“Oh, there’s no problem there,” Smiler said brightly, putting away the dried glass. “She’s also his soulmate.”

Robert blinked at them. It was a pretty long blink. “What?”

“Alice is also Victor’s soulmate,” Smiler repeated obligingly. “We’ve got a bit of a thing going on.”

“You’re – but – that’s impossible,” Robert insisted, leaning heavily on the bar.

“It’s not,” Smiler said, mentally preparing their usual speech. “It’s rare, yes, but–”

“Balderdash,” Robert cut in, putting a finger in Smiler’s face. “People can only have the one soulmate. Otherwise, what’s the point of them?”

Now it was Smiler’s turn to blink. “What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about how the whole point of a soulmate is that they are the person that the universe has ordained as the most important one in your entire life,” Robert said, warming to his topic. “The relationship beyond which all others pale. The one twinned to the very center of your being! If you were given more than one, then – then it would cheapen that bond. Make it – make it lesser. It wouldn’t be about finding your perfect match – it would be about finding someone you just kind of like more than the rest. A person only has room in their soul for one soulmate. It’s simple fact.”

“It’s not,” Smiler insisted. “There’s been studies done on the bond, and–”

“Oh, studies,” Robert said derisively, grabbing his drink and taking a big swig. “Yes, everyone appreciates a study. As if any scientist really knows how to measure a soul.” He looked Smiler up and down. “And what do you know about studies? You’re a bartender.”

“My father’s an alienist,” Smiler said, wrinkling their nose against the bitter taste in their mouth produced by even obliquely mentioning Kelman. “And I study chemistry in my spare time. I’m not an idiot just because I pour drinks for a living.”

“No – you’re an idiot for letting your soulmate get married to someone else,” Robert retorted, attempting to poke Smiler’s arm – they jerked it out of the way just in time. “Shame on you for that. He’ll never be able to be a proper husband to his wife if you’ve already taken up that space in his soul! Everyone knows that people who have soulmates that are just friends have to remain single. It’s the natural order of things!” He took another drink. “Cruel of you both to lead that poor woman on. She should be off trying to find her actual soulmate, not being – taken advantage of by two horrible monsters like yourselves.”

Smiler opened their mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Closed it again. Where the hell were their words right when they needed them most? Alice had once said they could talk their way out of a murder scene while holding a bloody knife, and now they couldn’t refute one drunk?! One deeply annoying drunk who’d hit pretty much every nerve in their body, sure, but… “I...you…”

“Smiler?”

Smiler and Robert both looked over to see Victor and Alice approaching, wearing identical expressions of concern. “Is everything all right?” Victor continued, picking at the knot of his tie. “You – you feel quite upset about something.”

“Very deeply annoyed indeed,” Alice added, giving Robert a suspicious glare. He smartly shrank away. “Is this fellow bothering you?”

“Yes, but he might not be for much longer,” Smiler said, smirking. “You were saying about how people can only have one soulmate?”

Robert looked between the three of them, visibly processing the fact that Alice too had felt Smiler’s emotions. “I – but – she – you?” he stammered, clearly having trouble collecting his thoughts.

“All three of us,” Smiler said, leaning on the bar. “Two romantic bonds and one platonic one, and all very real. And even if we weren’t all soulmates – so what? I think Victor would still have enough love in him to handle both his wife and me.” They put on an innocent stare. “Unless you’re saying that nobody can care about anyone but their soulmate? Because that sounds like a pretty lonely and miserable life to me.”

Robert stared at them for a moment more. Then he reached into his pocket, plonked some coins on the bar, and fled out the door. The trio watched him stumble away on wobbly legs. “...so I guess he didn’t believe you when you told him we were all soulmates,” Victor finally said.

“He did not, and decided to give me a big old lecture about it,” Smiler said, scooping up the money and counting it. “Okay, good, this is what he owed...anyway, it was all about how ‘multiple soulmates cheapens the bond’ and ‘if your soulmate is your best friend you need to remain single’ and nonsense like that.” They shook their head as they put the money away. “Who comes up with those things?”

“Arses,” Alice said succinctly.

Victor and Smiler both snorted. “Well put,” Victor said, then laid a hand on Smiler’s wrist. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t feel at all that having both you and Alice as soulmates has cheapened anything. If anything I feel – I feel blessed. I had trouble believing sometimes when I was younger that I was worthy of one soulmate, let alone two.” A bright smile split his face. “And now look at me. Tied forever to the two most wonderful people in the world.”

Smiler beamed, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I feel exactly the same. Two bonds just means twice the love to spread around.”

“Well said,” Alice said, putting her hand over theirs. “Hopefully someday people will understand that better.”

“Mmm. Until then…” Smiler leaned in and gave Victor a quick peck, before shooting Alice a grin. “I’ll just enjoy what we’ve got.”

[hippolotamus]

Fuck It Friday

Tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @daffi-990 @steadfastsaturnsrings ... in true Fuck It spirit this is neither on Friday or very PG. I was very inspired by my wife @disasterbuckdiaz's snippet and this kinda spilled out.

No pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @giddyupbuck @stereopticons @monsterrae1 @spotsandsocks @honestlydarkprincess @eddiediaztho @thewolvesof1998 @forthewolves @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @spaceprincessem @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @heartshapedvows @loserdiaz @watchyourbuck @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @statueinthestone @buddierights @911onabc @jesuisici33 @pirrusstuff @cowboy-buddie if you wanna 😘

“You’re overthinking again. If you want to – and I’m pretty sure you do,” Eddie whispers, tracing his thumb along Buck’s lower lip, “I can help with that.” 

Eddie’s fingers trace along Buck’s jawline until they settle on his shoulder where they fit perfectly, his thumb nestled into the divot of Buck’s collarbone. A space that may as well have been marked Property of Eddie Diaz when Buck was born. 

“Y-you can?” Buck’s eyelids flutter closed, but he quickly forces them open again, not wanting to miss anything Eddie’s doing. 

Eddie presses a featherlight kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth, first one side then the other, another to his cheekbone, until finally he’s right next to Buck’s ear, his voice low and sweet like the symphony of chirping grasshoppers and glowing fireflies in summer. “You know I can, sweetheart. Because I know you, and what you need right now. How your beautiful brain is so jumbled with thoughts you don’t know which one to turn to next. How you’re wishing they would all disappear. How badly you want someone else to take control. Because you could distract yourself, but you and I both know it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying.” 

Eddie kisses the hinge of Buck’s jaw, sending a shower of sparks racing down his spine, chasing after the offer Eddie’s delivering on a silver platter. “But I need you to tell me. Do you think you can do that, baby?” 

“F-fuck, Eddie. Yeah. Yes.”

“Yes?” Eddie purrs. “Yes, what? Yes, you can tell me what you need? Yes, you want me to take you apart and put you back together? Or yes, you want me to fuck you so thoroughly you don’t remember your own name?”

Jesus Christ. “All of that, Eds. God, everything. Want everything with you,” Buck babbles. 

Eddie pulls him in for a devastating, earth shattering kiss that would make Buck weak in the knees if he wasn’t already. His lips part when Eddie’s tongue teases at the seam, letting their tongues slide together. But then Eddie tears himself away and Buck whines, trying to chase after him. 

“Shhh, shh, shh. Just wait, it’s okay.” Eddie strokes Buck’s cheek, soothing his impatience. “Can you be a good boy for me?”

The words hit Buck with a force heavier than a tsunami wave, more intense than a bolt of lightning. He can’t help the way he immediately feels gooey and pliant, ready to obey. 

“Yes, sir. S’good. Can be so good.” Buck preens at the way Eddie’s breath hitches on the word sir. He feels like he’s been infused with sunshine and starlight, so happy he’s done something to please Eddie.

“Stand still. Right here. No matter what, okay? Not a muscle unless I tell you.” 

Buck nods eagerly.

“Words, darlin’.” Eddie’s drawl coats every syllable, unexpected but reassuring, and Buck wants to fucking live in it. Wants to wrap the honeyed intonation around himself like a second skin and never leave. “I need words.”

“Yes, sir. Won’t move. Promise.” 

Eddie hums in delight, taking a step back, just enough to create a pocket of space. He gathers the hem of Buck’s polo and lifts, silently commanding Buck to follow. Buck does, willingly, raising his arms for Eddie to complete his task. Eddie tosses it to the side then bites the tip of his thumb, walking in a slow circle, surveying. 

Buck casually wonders if this is how sculptures feel. Pieces put out in the world for public consumption. He would gladly stand here as long as Eddie wants him to, would allow Eddie to caress and carve and smooth him into an ideal shape.  

The sound of Eddie’s footsteps stop somewhere behind him, replaced by fingers fidgeting with buttons that make a quiet clack when the shirt hits the floor. Then there is only a maddening, heavy silence, leaving no indication of how close Eddie might be. Buck can’t detect his breathing, but knows Eddie – his partner – is still there. 

Sweet relief washes over him as Eddie wraps himself around Buck, hands sliding over his pecs and down the ridge of his abs, a blazing line of heat where Eddie’s chest presses against his back. Buck imagines, if he were to look, their bare skin would glow everywhere it touches. Two celestial beings burning bright and hot like stars in the night sky. 

Silent signals traverse between them like radio waves. Communications in the form of every one of Eddie’s touches and breaths fanning across the line of his neck, the shell of his ear, the point where the two meet. It’s something Buck supposes was inevitable. Eddie knows him in every other way. It’s not impossible to believe he knows this too. That Eddie would already be attuned to the ways Buck’s body reacts, the precise frequency of how he craves Eddie. Maybe it’s more obvious than Buck suspects. An aura of overwhelm and too much and too in his head that manifests as a primal, visceral need to submit. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn it radiates off of him in shades of sage, twilight, silver and violet. 

Eddie’s fingers skim outward, along the vee of Buck’s torso, over his wrists, trailing through coarse arm hair, up to the bend of Buck’s elbows. Buck wants to turn around, wants to capture Eddie’s mouth in a filthy kiss, wants to see the molten desire turning chocolate brown irises to nearly pure black. But that’s not what Eddie told him to do. Eddie had very specific instructions. And Buck is rather inclined to listen. He told Eddie he would be good for him. And he will. He wants to, more than anything. 

“Mmhmm,” Eddie hums, planting kisses like tiny flowers along the line of Buck’s shoulders. As if Buck is a wild, abandoned patch of earth that Eddie believes can grow something beautiful and transformative. Because, to Buck, Eddie couldn’t do anything less. He would never be capable of making something unsightly or unpleasant, even with Buck as a starting point. 

[passthroughtime]

yagami, WHY do you have to be such a bitch around kuwana. i'm going to strangle you.

(P.S.: he didn't tell kuwana that tesso said not to feel bad about it. obviously.)

[coldpintglass]

Afternoon Kaneson nation, how are we feeling after yesterday? Sane? Normal? With a firm grip on reality?

[foccaccia]

does anyone have recommendations for fictional media that has like. actual lesbians in it. not like supergirl Two White Skinny Girls, One Blonde and One Brunette Kiss media, or "its implied lesbianism!!!" but just regular fucking lesbians

[kenzan-kiwami]

a humble fanart of @deathmothking's Ishin werewolf AU fanfic - i hope you like it! i'm definitely looking forward to the next chapter <3

[quietwingsinthesky]

like not to turn into a rhack blog for a minute (holy shit this game came out in 2014, does anyone even still ship these two) but. Extremely gay for a guy to try and take over your body, trap you in the crashing space station you’ve sentenced him to die in, insert himself back into your skull just for a chance to choke you out even if it means killing himself in the process, and then get on his knees begging you not to kill him again.

[kris-mage-fics]

The Secret of the Greenhouse

A little non canon compliant Tabitha fic for Scarlet Hollow.

Tabitha loathes taking care of the…thing in the greenhouse. But with Pearlanne gone she's the only one left to do it.

(Please note: I wrote this before Episode 4 came out and based it on my thoughts on the Goop Teddy fan theory at the time. Now we know what's actually in the greenhouse, so this very much doesn't follow canon. But after @georgiedoesntfloat asked me about my SH fic ideas I couldn't get this one out of my head because I liked the vibes. So here it is, and it's all thanks to Georgie!)

Tabitha wasn’t one to believe something unless she saw it herself. She lived in a world of what was concrete and right in front of her. Yet what was in front of her tested her mightily. It shouldn’t exist, but somehow it did. Now that Pearlanne was gone, it was up to her to deal with this…thing.

Pearlanne told Tabitha about it less than a year ago. Apparently it used to be Teddy Scarlet, who was said to have died in the mine collapse in 1918. For all she knew that was a lie. But she learned long ago to keep such thoughts to herself. Pearlanne had been insistent that she learn how to ‘care’ for it. As if it were some kind of horrible pet.

Ever the dutiful daughter, she listened to what her mother had to say. Though Tabitha was sure Pearlanne left out quite a bit. There were too many missing pieces to the story she was given. Now she would never know the rest. Her mother was dead, and she knew not to trust what it had to say.

You can find the rest here on Ao3!

[bugwolfsstuff]

I can't wait to do all the silly plots i have for the Demigods get social media fic

Like I still have to do:

Harley doxxes Clarisse's mom and gets: demigod famous, his account banned, Leo fired from the Demitok team and accidentally starts a demigod riot against Nyssa

the Drew, Lacy and Connor sims 4 saga (this one is based off my own greek myth save)

the Grover and Percy ≠ Dionysus x Ampelos post

Percy x Hermes (the Hercules movie version, look at the design and guess why)

The great school escape and Camp Badboys (and girls and theys), coined by Leo

Litterally when the gods show up

When Chiron and the Romans finally get clued in and get an account

and user Concerned citizen as a whole

litterally the Hamilton incident is barely scratching the surface here

[polkadotpatterson]

okeydoke as I have not had much energy for working on stuff lately (but lots of motivation) I'm not gonna do proper NaNo with a wordcount or anything, BUT I am gonna make it a goal to get some amount of work done on a writing project every day (at least until I go away on the 24th). Main priority blaseball projects are, in no particular order:

Fic about the ending

Abner fic

Simon's Quest

secret fic(s) :)

get the Talkers exchange set up

Aside from that, I've been poking at more non-blaseball stuff, which is a good excuse for me to plug my writing blog @cyndakip! All my fics get posted there, so if you're interested in my writing beyond just blaseball (especially if you like pokemon), I recommend following me there, since I don't post non-blaseball fics here.

[outer-edges]

so one of my many inexplicable fic icks for the last of us is whenever there's a fic that just likely completely ignores everything about the finale and just goes along with a whole “happily ever after in jackson” thing.

i've never really been able to pinpoint a specific reason, but i think its because even if you ignore the fact that it is so insane to just remove the entirety of their experience with the fireflies and make them live happily ever after. they just…won’t…like it’s not going to be happily ever after for them because joel IS NOT ellie’s dad, and that’s not an emotional framework she even has. like dad doesn’t mean anything to her. to her, joel is her best friend. joel is family. joel is hers. she’s his. they belong like all that shit riley talked about with her family. but being a daughter and having a father isn’t something ellie even understands to fit herself into. her only experience with quote unquote “fatherhood” is david, and to him that meant disgusting control exerted over her. i think that entire experience probably gave her an extremely complicated relationship with the concept of father's in and of itself. so, even if she has this father-daughter type relationship with joel, that's not how she's ever going to associate him.

so, to her, joel is just joel. she loves him and cares for him deeply and he’s hers and she’s his, but he’s still just joel. he isn’t dad. he won’t ever be dad.

but to him, ellie isn’t just ellie. ellie is daughter.

daughter and dad is a very different dynamic than just inexplicably connected family. joel is going to exert a certain amount of control over her life, the kind that is perfectly healthy for parents to have, but she’s not going to accept it, and that’s going to cause problems for them. because it’ll be different than when they were on the road. then, everything joel did was to keep her safe. then he ordered her to do things like check her six and stay quiet and go hide while he takes care of business.

in jackson, in regular life, it’s going to be different. it’s going to be things like bedtimes and going to school and curfew and shit that ellie will reject because of her previous experience with it (FEDRA, david, etc). like this cognitive dissonance between them is going to cause problems. even though they care about each other just as much, they aren't really on the same page when it comes to what they are to each other.

that’s what they’re going to work through. those are conflicts they would face even if they do get happily ever after. which, that isn't something really see anyone working through, and the absence of it rubs me the wrong way in ways i can't really explain. i think it's because this cognitive dissonance is something that would cause such a big strain on their relationship. even if everything went perfectly fine with the fireflies, or whatever, they still would have interpersonal conflict. it isn’t just ellie’s nightmares that are solved by platonic cuddling. their monsters are much closer to the heart than that.

she’s not his daughter. and he sure as hell ain’t her dad. but they’re going to figure it out anyway.

[universalsatan]

the most surreal part about realizing someone who’s in your school yearbook on the page across from you on some grade class trip is one of Thee most talked about people in the hockey and hockey-not-by-choice world. is that a) a bunch of random people on the internet are actively thirsting after him and b) this guy you technically went to school with has his own tag on ao3, with at least one being a relationship ABO fic

[froggomcdoo]

you ever read a work of fiction so good that you immediately need to find more and consume it but it doesn't have any more and there will likely be no more so you just suffer and think what if.