#Yeah I love them and all but they’re that person that had ana for like a year (giving me diagnosed PTSD in the process)

[mightgetsomewhere]

I genuinely can’t fathom how people who have never had a problem with food (restricting AND overeating because both are serious issues) view it. Like tf do you mean you get hungry after two hours? One of my siblings is onto me because I went like 6 hours without eating but like…that was because I wasn’t hungry???? On the flip side, I’ve noticed that I just keep fucking eating when everyone else has stopped. Free breadsticks at Olive Garden? I’ll eat them until they’re gone. Need something to do at a party? I’ll get seconds even though I’m not really hungry. I was never really an emotional eater aside from a few hatred-induced binges last semester at college, but I’m definitely a bored eater. Combine that with the fact that my parents don’t cook, so the occasional meals I had with my family all together were fast food/restaurant food, AND that all other nights, I was left to rummage with no supervision through the pantry to eat processed food in front of the TV/my phone for dinner, it’s a miracle I didn’t get fatter sooner.

[hellosweetart]

Remember that drawing you made of SK Francis meeting regular Francis? Well, I got an idea on how to expand on that as well.

You know that ending where SK Francis killed Nacha and Anastacha and stitched up their corpses to create his own version of a happy family. Well, their bodies didn’t last long. They decomposed into nothing but skeletons. SK Francis tried so hard to put them back together but he failed. He couldn’t keep them. All he had were their skeletons. In the midst of his despair and desperation, he somehow found a portal to a universe where Nacha and Anastacha are alive with regular Francis. Not wanting to lose his chance at a happy life, SK Francis kidnaps Nacha and Anastacha from the different universe and forced them to be apart of his family, all the while they had to sit with the skeletons of their dead counterparts.

I’m not too sure about your version of Francis but my regular version of Francis is this tired, shy, hardworking guy who supports Nacha and Anastacha despite not being married. He has a relatively normal life with a few friends and he’s in a healthy relationship with Nacha. So regular Francis finds out the mother daughter duo had been kidnapped so he travelled to the other dimension to save them.

Upon arriving, regular Francis finds SK Francis holding them hostage. They both thought they were a doppelgänger of each other but they soon realised that they’re alternate versions of themselves. It’s like they’re looking into a mirror of each other, one with a good reflection and the other one a dark reflection. As SK and regular Francis fought, SK Francis finds out that regular Francis has a normal life and have loved ones. SK Francis became jealous and attempts to kill regular Francis as he sheds angry tears.

“YOU! HOW DARE YOU!! HOW COULD WE BOTH BE THE SAME PERSON AND YOU GET TO HAVE IT BETTER THAN ME?! WHY DOES NACHA AND ANA LOVE YOU MORE THAN ME?! WHY DO YOU GET TO HAVE FAMILY AND FRIENDS THAT CARE FOR YOU?! WHY HASNT ANYONE ABANDONED YOU YET?!”

Regular Francis was scared and confused but sympathetic about the other version of him. It’s like looking into a future version of himself that went down the wrong path. But then, both Francis’s continue to fight. Regular Francis isn’t going down without a fight because he’ll save Nacha and Anastacha. And SK Francis isn’t backing down either because no one is taking away his family from him again.

That’s all I have for now. Feel free to expand upon this if you like. Btw, I finished 3/4 of the fanfic so it should be on A03 by next week probably. I’ll be sure to send you the link.

~ SK Francis anon 🔪

Oh yeah I remember that!

This is a saddening scene

Also SK anon, I wanna thank you for sharing your ideas with me via asks. Sorry I haven't posted them all, but I do wanna let you know that I appreciate every single one of your asks and they are all very intriguing! Feel free to share more via messages if you want 🥲

And sure! Please do share the link of your AO3. I can't wait to read it before my bedtime!

[double--hh]

I Think it's Gonna Rain When I Die

An unofficial addition to the Serial Killer! Francis AU!!

AU belongs to our beloved SK Francis Anon 🔪

TW: Referenced/Implied PTSD attacks, implied/referenced abuse, SK! Francis is an entire tw on his own, possessive behavior, execution via electrocution, Francis loves Nacha and tolerates Ana 👍

The police officer escorted her to the stand alone table, there sat her father… no, he lost the right to that title.

There sat Francis.

Clean shaven, sullen eyes, and ruffled and slightly matted hair. There were two guards against the back wall waiting for anything to happen. Anastacha bit the sides of her tongue as she made eye-contact with him, her expression unchanging as Francis recognized her.

He laughed a breath out and took a pained one back in, “Anastacha! My baby girl, oh look at you! You have your mother’s nose, her hair too, even-”

“Hello Francis.”

Francis pouts and cocks his head, “Mmm, that's no way to greet your father, young lady.”

She held back a snide remark and she sat down, placing her hands on the table folded, she felt her eyes twitch, “How's prison treating you? You look like shit.”

Francis threw an exaggerated hand to his chest, “Oh how hurtful, Annie-” He gets really close to the window separating them, “It's been… stifling, sweetie… 15 fucking years without my wife and child…” His eyes drone around behind her, “Where is Nacha, sweetie? Unless if you two are doin’ a one on o-”

“She didn't come. Nobody came. It's just me.”

She blinked slowly, no signs of emotion from her.

Francis furrowed his eyebrows, humming, “Hmm, surely she’s just sleeping out in the car, Annie, oh I just know your mother misses me like I miss her!” He giggles, tapping his fingers on the table, the chains making a scraping noise on the wood.

Anastacha snorts and cracks a smile, she pulls a box of cigarettes out and lights one up, “What’s so funny sweetie- ugh, y’know how bad those things are for a little girl like you, Anastacha.”

She takes a drag from it, “Y’think mom misses you, Francis? Yeah, whatever, buddy… I do understand where you're comin’ from, feeling like you're the only one who can protect your mother from your own father.”

She bites the end of her cigarette, feeling her heart strain, “You know how many sleepless nights I've gotten after you got arrested? Having to hear mom cry herself to sleep and have mental breakdowns all because of you, Francis, huh? Do you know how many times I've had to convince my own mother that it’s safe to be alone in a room with another man, hell, another person that isn't me?! Oh my god.”

She buries her face in her hands, scrunching her bangs, rubbing her eyes with her palms and mutters out, “You fucking ruined our lives.” Slamming her hands down on the table, Anastacha looks at him dead in the eyes, not a single glint of light sparkled in her eyes anymore, they’re bloodshot, her eyebags even more noticeable.

Francis frowns, crossing his arms, “Sweetie, you know damn well what kinda people are out there, I was tryna protect you and your mother from the scum of the Earth and those fucking man made pests. And what did youse do? Get me arrested after all I've done for your ungrateful ass and your darling, sweet mother.”

Anastacha rolls her eyes, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Francis let an annoyed breath out, but collected himself, “So… tell me what you’ve been up to, sweetie.” He flashes her a phony smile.

“I’m a Victim’s Advocate. I'm running my own organization, helping get folks out of domestic situations.” She tugs on her purple bow around her collar, “It's… very rewarding. Mom and dad are real proud of me.”

Francis’ eyebrows raised and his eyes widened, “G-good for you, sweetie, but- I-I’m right here and this is my first time hearing about this! Why'd you say-”

“Oh, yeah, mom’s seein’ someone.”

She watched as Francis slammed his hands on the table and stood up, the chair falling back, “WHO IS HE?! TELL ME. SHE KNOWS GODDAMN WELL THAT SHE BELONGS TO ME AND ME ONLY.” The two guards approached him and pulled him back, Anastacha leans back into her chair, taking a drag, blowing smoke from her nose.

Francis magages to calm down just enough so his vision isn't red anymore, but still feeling his blood boil and his mind race.

“Anastacha Lynn Mosses. You better fucking tell me who this bastard is.”

The guards were about to take him away till Anastacha spoke up and yelled, “Jeez Louise! Boys, calm down! Francis, pay attention.” She snaps her fingers to get his attention.

She reaches into her pocket for her wallet and opens it up, she smiles as she takes her driver's license and a polaroid out. She placed both items flush against the window, “Here 'go, Franny boy.”

Francis broke out of the guard's grasp and got his face close to the window.

He wished what he was looking at was a sick prank his little girl was pulling on her.

On the left was the polaroid, it was his Nacha in the foreground dressed in a long sleeved and puffy wedding gown. Behind her was Angus, in a dark purple tuxedo, holding her waist with one hand and his cane with the other. His vision focused in and out when he slowly rolled his eyes to Anastacha’s license and he felt his heart sink deeper than his first night alone without his family when he read her name.

Anastacha Lynn Mikaelys-Ciprianni.

His eyes pinholed as he looked dead at Anastacha, who was smiling as sweetly as ever.

That motherfucker stole his family from him.

Anastacha softly sighs as she puts her items away back into her wallet.

You could hear a pin drop how quiet it was… till Francis hit the plexiglass window, with his fists, cracking with all of his might. Anastacha jumped putting her hands up, watching the guards pull him back to his room while he was screaming obscenities to her, her mother, and especially her father. She cupped a hand next to her mouth and yelled, “So long, and thanks for all of the fish!”

She chuckles as the door slams shut, she can still hear the dead-beat yell, she turns to the officer that escorted her in, “I'm so sorry you folks had to deal with him for so long.” She reached into her pocket and gives him a stack of her business cards, “Leave ‘em by the sign in desk, y’never know what's going on with a person just by looking at ‘em.” He nodded and escorted her to the next room to watch Francis’ execution…

~

…It went as grizzly as one could go, Anastacha and her police escort were the only ones in the theater when it happened. He looked away while she watched it all go down, never faltering. Even when the vertigo of the electricity flashed her eyes never moved from Francis as she watched the remainder of life leave his body...

~

Afterwards, she left the prison, it was late at night, night life was just getting started, but she was not interested in the slightest. As she lit up another cigarette, she felt a drop of rain hit her nose.

She looked up and saw rain clouds moving in, “Mmm… peculiar… didn't know he had a soul…”

She continued walking until she found a vacant and illuminated phone booth. She entered before the rain started pouring down, the droplets making music on the glass walls. After putting 15 cents in, she slumped against the cooling wall, smoking, looking at people scuttling for cover, waiting for the caller to pick up.

“Ugh, hello? Ciprianni residents, Nacha speaking…”

“Hey mom, it's Anastacha.”

She heard her mother move excitedly on the other end, shaking Angus awake.

“Ana! Hija! How are you?! Are you okay? Did anything happen?! Do you need us to drive over?!”

Anastacha laughed, “No, mom! I'm good, I'm fine, it was very…” She looked for the words as she heard her father speak faint but very tired Italian in the background, “I feel like I closed a large chapter in my life and I’m… glad I went.”

She clears her throat as she hears Angus take the phone, “Ciao, sweetheart, I heard what you said, ‘m happy you decided to go, I’m so proud of you Anne… shit, Nacha, cara mia, what time is it?”

Anastacha huffs, checking her watch, “It's only midnight-thirty, dad!”

Angus groans as both Nacha and Anastacha giggles, “Alright, alright, I’ll let the oldies sleep, I just wanted to let y'all know that I'm outta there and I'm doing good.”

“That's great, hija, you go out and enjoy the night! Don't drink too much!”

“Yes, and remember to aim for the throat and ears if you can! And if you brought your pistol or brass knuckles even better!”

Anastacha heard her mom smack him on the shoulder and he laughed, “Ciao, Anna, you be safe and take care of yourself, mom and I love you-”

Nacha yoinked the phone, “Love you hija! Please come and visit us soon! We always have the guest room open for you!”

Anastacha puts her cigarette out with her dress shoes and smiles, “I love you guys too, when this next case is cleared up I’ll drive over to see y'all before you guys move again, good night!”

They both wish her goodnight and she hangs up. She unlatches the phone booth and exits, the rain is now a drizzle.

Sighing, she decided to take her folks advice and enjoys the evening to the fullest, starting her a new chapter in her life.

~

[bidisasterevankinard]

So you’re pretty sure of him being next season still around… glad to know, because I totally agree, cause a lot of people is sure that they’re going to break up soon…and honestly, if that was the case, story wise, it wouldn’t make any sense to me…

Maybe you’re right and the ILY will arrive next season, but this season I would love for them to take the next step and label themselves as a serious relationship…

Yeah, I'm pretty sure Tommy will stays at least for season 8. because of story they are making and because of how bucktommy was taken by fandom and the thing that Lou was followed by 911 ig account. For me it all speaks "we want more of him"

You're absolutely right that story wise for now there's no reason for Buck and Tommy to break up. They for now was only on two dates(and we will not see the time skip to wedding I guess but still I believe it's several week after coffee date so we also can add some more dates+ wedding) and they are absolutely smitten with each other and want to try to know each other. Tim, Lou and if I'm not mistaken Oliver all said they want romcom and I can't see them break even at the end of the season,but I can see them taken more serious step as calling each other boyfriends. Oliver also said there's gonna be more kisses and Buck initiate some of them, so Buck definitely feels more confident in his relationship and I can see him only trying to make them deeper and more meaningful, but not "clinging" because he's scared to be alone, but because he really likes Tommy

When they didn't want someone for long, Ali for example, they barely gave us anything about the character. We literally just knew that where she works, that she was dying her hair blonde for a lot of time and that's all. About Ana, who stayed for pretty longer, we jts knew her work, that she has sister(right before break up) and that's all. Even Taylor had backstory only in 5s when I guess they tried to make Bucktaylor work.

About Tommy we already know some things from begins episodes and that's btw makes everything easier. Tim said that they chose Tommy because he was already existed in the universe, they don't need to create new person, but they made Tommy deeper. We literally had Tommy in 6 episodes (in one barely) and we already know more about him we know about Tailor who was around for 1,5 seasons. They showed us where he works, said that he was in the army(in begins it never mentioned), made his story we saw in begins deeper with saying "yeah, he was in closet.", told us about his interests like Muay Thai, cars, basketball, we know he's a movie fan like Chim (begins). We know he loves Love,actually and craft beer. They made him Eddie's new friend. Also they let Lou to share his ideas how he sees Tommy (hard unstable childhood) which I'm sure wasn't for nothing. I see them making Tommy the character on the Karen's level at least .The LI of the main character, who is regular with enough backstory to make them interesting and lovable to the audience, but no need to make them main. Also Tommy's job allows him to make appearance any time they want. And his friendship with Eddie, Chim and Hen too. So he doesn't need to be just "Buck's boyfriend". Tommy has way better treatment any gf of Buck or Eddie had and we have him as a LI for only 3 episodes. Imagine what they can do till the end of the season and during next one? Make him loveable LI who is not plot device, but also no need to make him main. And as Tommy not in 118, 911 don't even have to go through standard plot of "oh, we are working together and it's gonna be a lot of drama about it". Too old

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

And finally we’ve got the retolds with a twist! The ones where you’re utilizing your epic talent to revisit all the biggest Buddie moments from a slightly different angle that breathes new life into them! It’s so fun!!!

📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖 (they’re friends! Buck’s bi! They’re gonna fall in love! How do I always forget about them dealing with covid before it comes back up in these stories?! Lol you’d think that one would be a bit harder to forget considering i actually went through it too but 🤷🏻‍♀️)

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨 (I’d apologize for how many emojis that is except YOU JUST SHOT EDDIE! WHILE HE AND BUCK ARE ENGAGED! Like was that really necessary? (yes it was i love the angst) Can’t wait to see how this plays out especially with them already having the will and “you’re not expendable” conversations! Perhaps they’ll be replaced with an elopement conversation….)

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼 (i really love your shannon characterization! She’s such a real person and i love her! Also i just realized we’re approaching tsunami territory!!!! I have no idea how that’s gonna go down here but I can’t wait to find out!)

I hope you have fun answering all these and HAPPY PREMIERE WEEK!!! 22 million killer bees incoming!!!

- PCA <3

AWW thank you! You're literally always so kind and I want you to know it genuinely does mean a lot and is very validating.

48 for 📖 (omg I know covid is always SO ANNOYING to write around? I gotta do an au where it doesn't exist sometime):

---

His eyes begin to sting. Fuck. Fuck. He’s crying. 

“I’m just really glad you’re okay,” he blubbers. “I don’t know what I would’ve…”

He shuts his mouth. Stops himself. He barely manages to hold it all back. But he can’t finish his sentence. It feels far too much like a confession. 

I don’t know what I would have done if you died, because I love you, and I need you to always be okay. 

Eddie’s eyes widen a little. Even in their tired, droopy state, the realization in them is clear. He sees it. Fuck. Buck is screwed. 

“Uh,” Buck leans back in his chair, putting space between himself and Eddie. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Eddie rasps. “Buck…”

Buck stands. “Uh… I’m going to call Carla. Make sure our plans for tomorrow are still… Yeah.”

“Buck, wait a sec,” Eddie tries.

But Buck is already leaving. His hands are shaking. He doesn’t think he wants to be alone in the room with Eddie again. 

xx.

Buck makes sure Carla is with Chris when Ana brings Eddie home from the hospital. He leaves beforehand. Goes right to Maddie’s. He can’t be around Eddie right now. He doesn’t trust himself not to completely spill over. He feels badly about it, but it’s better this way. And he can’t burden Eddie with any of this right now. Not with the recovery ahead of him.

“Oh, Evan,” Maddie says when he tells her everything. “It’s okay that you got emotional. You care about him. He knows that. It doesn’t mean he knows how you feel outside of that.”

“I don’t think I can pretend anymore, Maddie,” Buck sniffs. “He almost died. He almost died and his girlfriend thanked me for stopping by. You were right. I need space.”

---

96 for 🚨( Lol two snippets of shooting angst in a row I'm so sorry):

---

Basically, Buck does his best to keep things together in this looping, daily hell. He must be doing an okay job of it, he thinks. No one says he’s falling apart, even if he feels like he is. 

iv.

Eddie’s first thought when he can think again, is that death feels heavy and sluggish. Sore. Not at all what’s promised. It takes him longer, and the slowly regained ability to hear the beeping of hospital machinery, to realize that he isn’t dead at all.

He survived.

Somehow, he survived. 

Well, not somehow. He doesn’t remember a lot, but he remembers one thing. Buck. It’s not by chance that he survived being shot down in the street. It was Buck. Buck saved him. Which makes Eddie realize. Oh god. Buck had to save him. After everything that’s happened to him…

Eddie tries to open his eyes. It’s not easy. Each eyelid feels weighed down and the lights are blinding. He makes a hoarse, uncomfortable noise in the back of his throat. The most he can manage at the moment.

When his vision clears - at least as much as his dry, stinging eyes will allow - he tilts his head a little to the side. The motion sends a ripple of pain across his right arm, concentrated most acutely in his shoulder. He ignores it, trying to get his bearings. 

Beside the bed Eddie is stuck in, is Buck. He’s slumped back in a stiff plastic hospital chair, fast asleep. His neck is craned at an awkward angle, head leaning against his shoulder. There’s a thin blanket over his torso, like someone gently placed it there, afraid to disturb him. A nurse, maybe? 

Buck’s forearm, opposite to the shoulder he’s leaning on, is outstretched onto Eddie’s bed. His hand rests inches away from Eddie’s. Like maybe he was holding it when he drifted off. With his uninjured arm,, Eddie stretches his wrist and fingers to brush against Buck’s hand. It hurts. It’s laborious. But he manages contact. 

Buck jolts a little, eyes flying open like he’s been shocked. Eddie watches, eyelids drooping a little, as the realization smacks Buck, full-force. 

“E-Eddie?” Buck stammers. 

“Hi,” Eddie manages to rasp. 

“Oh my god,” Buck cries, squeezing Eddie’s hand so much it hurts. “Oh god, Eddie. You’re awake.”

“Hardly,” Eddie mumbles.

Buck doubles forward, crying and pressing his lips to Eddie’s hand. 

“You’re awake. You’re really awake.”

“Didn’t die,” Eddie says. 

“No,” Buck runs a hand through his hair. Kisses his forehead. “You didn’t die. You’re alive. You’re going to be just fine.”

“M’okay?”

“You’re okay,” Buck promises. “You held on. You fought like hell.”

Eddie tries to smile. He’s not sure if he manages it.

“Couldn’t stand you up… For the wedding…”

Buck laughs a little wetly. “I love you so much. Fuck.”

“Saved me,” Eddie mutters, eyes fluttering shut. 

“I sure tried,” Buck whispers. 

Eddie means to tell Buck how much he loves him, too. How thankful he is. But his jaw feels too heavy. The effort feels like too much. 

“You go back to sleep,” Buck says softly. “I’ll be here when you wake up again.”

So Eddie lets himself be carried back under, knowing that he’s safe. Buck has him. He always has. 

🔹🔹🔹

When he wakes up again, it isn’t Buck he sees, but his father. Which throws him for a loop. For a moment, he’s sure he’s dreaming. 

“Dad?” He asks groggily.

“Hey-hey! Son! You’re awake!” Ramon exclaims happily. His eyes look a little wet.

“DAD?” He hears the sweetest voice in the world from the other side of the room. 

“Chris?” Eddie asks. He shifts to sit up, but winces in pain.

“One second,” Ramon says, reaching for the hospital bed’s controls. “Let me fix this.”

---

30 for 🔼 (THANK YOU! I'm trying to do her justice. And yesssss tsunami on the horizon):

---

Her hair is half brushed, her shirt might be on inside out, and she is nowhere near ready to leave. She’s going to make them late, for sure. 

“Hi,” she exhales when she throws the door open. “Sorry. Running behind.”

“Hey, no worries,” Buck says, shrugging. 

“How’s um…” Shannon blanks. God, her brain is all over the place today. “Your health?” 

Buck snorts. “The blood thinners? Terrible. Otherwise, I’m fine. That’s what’s frustrating.”

She frowns sympathetically. “Sorry, Buck. That really sucks.”

“Yeah,” he shrugs again. But this one feels more forced than the first. “Hey, where’s Chris?”

“Brushing his teeth,” Shannon says. And yeah, she’s aware of the time. “Like I said, we are running behind.” 

“Seriously, it’s fine,” Buck insists. “I’m just the chauffeur.”

Shannon smiles gratefully. “Thank you. Give me ten minutes?”

He nods. “Sounds good.”

[bibuckaroo]

‘i had to do it.’

‘i know you did.’

aaaand i’m back on my bullshit (i never was really off of it, i just stopped blogging a little because life got craaaazy, anyway)

i’m already on s5 so i’m gonna do a run down of what i remember that marked me in this season aaaand the deal with ana? absolutely not organic at all, what was going on there??

everybody was like pushing eddie to go to her and for what? he didn’t even look interested and yet…

and i don’t know but she got the ali treatment and i definitely didn’t get invested in them.

BUT NOW, TO THE AWAITED MOMENT!!! THE SHOOTING!! it took me the fuck out, it was so out of nowhere and eddie’s blood splashing all over buck?? what was that?? WHAT WAS THAT??

and buck doing the most to reach eddie and get him the fuck out of there?? dragging him under the truck?? i literally cannot, guys.

and when they’re taking eddie to the hospital and he sees buck covered in blood and immediately asks him if he’s alright?? straight from the trope of ‘character A is severely injured but still keeps on trying to check on character B to be assured that they’re fine.’ THEY ARE INSANE, I’M TELLING YOU!!

then the whole time, eddie is in surgery and recovery, buck is just wrecked?? my poor baby boy and when he goes to tell chris what happened and absolutely breaks down, i cannot with this, i swear! and chris reassuring him, i just love them to death!

and when eddie sees buck in the hospital, the smile he opens, that is too soft for me and buck blaming himself for not holding it together and for not saving eddie?? UUUGH

AND NOW TO THE WILL. guys, pls all that i could think about during that scene was that one post from this hellsite (affectionate) that the person is going like ‘the concept of baby trapping is already insane in itself, but when gay people do it, they have to get really creative’ and like eddie just puts it out there?? he’s like ‘yeah i put you in my will because nobody will ever fight for my son as much as you do’ like it’s normal??

he’s basically locking buck down and the best part is that he doesn’t realize this!!! anyway they get more and more insane.

on a side note: i know there are many people who don’t like taylor and bucktaylor, but i genuinely like both and am enjoying them so far (also they’re both so insanely attractive and my bi ass is down bad everytime).

[mithliya]

Bruh like fr I’m a recovered anorexic and if I had to choose which is worse I’d pick CP but saying “these things are serious and violations of the ToS” isn’t even equating them. That whole exchange was so fucking stupid like anorexia is the mental illness with the highest mortality rate. And acting like hating pro-ana is the same as hating women with eating disorders is so intellectually dishonest. I hate pro-ana because I love women with eating disorders and pro-ana can make sick women sicker and can trigger eating disorders in women who are predisposed. Also if an obese person stopped eating, they would die of starvation within a few days like anyone else. Absolutely lack of any understanding of nutrition with that one.

Separately, I feel like it can’t possibly be true that that many US residents are actually medically obese. Just based on living in America. It’s true that I’ve only lived in Washington and California which have lower rates than the south but it’s still estimated at 25-35% and I just feel like that cannot be true. I don’t see people who look like they’re overweight enough to have health problems very often. It’s probably just that data like that uses BMI which is fundamentally so so flawed and shouldn’t be used lol. But like my high school graduating class was about 200 people and thinking back I can only recall 3 people who aligned with the general idea of someone who is obese. It just doesn’t compute

agreed! as for the obesity rates in the US, i don’t know if it’s as high as 25%-35% (that’s insane if so, when i looked it up it was even higher at 39.6% of adults) but i can think of possible explanations as to why it wouldn’t seem that high when outdoors. i mean, i would assume that many obese people are simply going to be less likely to go outside (or at least will do so more infrequently). it also may be more prominent in some parts of the US than others. i do recall not seeing that many obese people in virginia, but seeing more in texas. that said, when trying to find info on the obesity rates per state, it was quite inconsistent. 🤔

anyways yeah that person was ridiculous and i know who she is, she’s renowned for saying ridiculous shit all the time

[oh-austin]

yn and austin being all lovey and gushy about each other for an ig edit🥺 face claim nailea devora !!🫶🏾🫶🏾

had two requests for this fc, I promise I’m getting to them all! if you’ve requested something it is coming 🫶🏼

pa!reader / nailea devora fc !

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↳ yourinstagram shut up

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yourinstagram aus had to go be a movie star (selfish) and I had to take my own photo :(

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austinbutler mine looks nicer

↳ yourinstagram yeah I know, that’s why mine is the second slide, you ass

austinfan11 austin is always first on her posts, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had her post notifications on 🧐

austinfan12 they would be so good together, did someone say high school sweethearts ?

↳ austinfan15 they didn’t actually meet in hs, y/n was friends with chase from zoey101 and met austin there!

austinfan18 she looks so good?

austinfan19 I love them 💗💗

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austinupdates y/n on austins story today! (via instagram stories)

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austinfan24 austin getting y/n in prada? sounds like a boyfriend to me

austinfan27 pretty sure that’s austins top

↳ austinfan31 idk if it’s the same one, but they look very similar!

austinfan34 what’s the bet that austin bought her the flowers 😭😭

liked by yourinstagram, austinfan35 and 987,289 others

austinbutler y/n doing what she gets paid to do (a rare occurrence)

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yourinstagram AUSTIN STOP TELLING PEOPLE I DONT DO MY JOB

yourinstagram I DO MY JOB EVERYONE

↳ austinbutler yeah.. sure

austinfan38 they have to be dating

austinfan42 he loves her

pollyannabennett the best personal assistant ever! love you both so much!!

↳ yourinstagram polly appreciates me, you should too

austinfan46 date each other pls and thanks

liked by austinbutler, bazlurhman and 38,827 others

yourinstagram someone please help me, my boss won’t let me out of my room (I’m posting this from my ds)

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austinfan48 austin let her GO

austinfan52 austin this is so not ✌🏼 of you

austinbutler y/n stop it

↳ yourinstagram stop telling people I don’t do my job and I won’t reveal your sadistic tendencies

austinfan57 FROM HER DS HAHAHAHHAA

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austinbutler happy birthday to everyone’s favourite pa! as you can see in the last photo y/n does her job sometimes, thank you for keeping me in check 🤍

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austinfan59 THERE IS NO WAY HE HAS THIS MANY PICTURES OF HIS PERSONAL ASSISTANT

↳ austinfan62 they HAVE to be dating, I refuse to believe otherwise

bazlurhman happy birthday y/n!

yourinstagram 🥲🥲 I love you aus

↳ austinbutler forever

↳ austinfan65 YEAH THERES NO WAY YOU GUYS ARENT FUCKING

↳ austinfan68 they’re such LIARS

ashleytisdale you guys are not fooling anyone 😌 happy birthday y/n

[erodasfishtacos]

Cheating!h blurb where ana asks why they dont have sex or at a party and she’s trying to pull him into a room and y/n watching him try to make excuses and then next time having sex with y/n he says anna keeps trying and she has the pride he doesnt give in... or something exploring that situation

warnings: smut, cheating, angst

“Anna, I just-“ Harry huffs as she tugs him into a spare bedroom of the party after he had put up a valiant fight to keep them in the main area.

Her hands are unbuttoning his already barely buttoned shirt, running down his bare skin, and he is cut off by a sloppy kiss to his mouth.

Fear shoots up through him, it’s not YN, he doesn’t want this with her.

“C’mon, it’s been almost six months and you still haven’t touched me. Just fuck me,” Anna complains, fed up with the lack of or more like nonexsistence of their sex life.

It was near impossible to believe, someone like Harry who oozed sex out of every pore of his body wasn’t sexually active or interested in fucking his girlfriend.

When Anna takes a different approach of going for his belt buckle, mouth trailing against his collarbone, and attempting to get to his groin - which hadn’t hardened in the slightest.

“Enough,” Harry states firmly, grasping her wrists lightly and making her look at him, “I don’t want to have sex right now, okay?”

His girlfriend’s face falters, “You never want to.”

“If you don’t like it break up with me,” He hisses, knowing YN is going to get suspicious the longer they’re in a room together.

Anna, who really did have a kind heart, frowns, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything. I would never force you to.”

Harry just rebuttons his shirt, “S’fine. Let’s just get back to the party and have a good time, yeah?”

She nods as Harry swings his arm around her shoulder, unlocking the door, and pausing when he sees YN a bit of the ways down the corridor - staring at the two leaving the bedroom.

“I’m going to get a drink,” He dismisses bluntly, his focus set on the girl who was visible angry with him in the kitchen.

Before he can get out a word, she steps forward and swipes her thumb against his collarbone.

It comes back with the waxy substance of Anna’s bright mauve lipstick.

“Have fun in there, did you?” YN asks, she tries to keep her tone cool and unbothered by Harry sees right through it to the insecurity.

“You know I didn’t,” He replies between gritted teeth, how could she get jealous when this was all her?

He didn’t want a girlfriend.

Well he did but he only want her and she fucking knew that.

“If you wanted me to believe you, maybe you would have wiped her lipstick marks from your neck and chest,” She chuckles and it makes Harry’s hair on the back of his neck stand up.

It was the distinct chuckle and tone she used when she was upset but wasn’t going to admit it over her dead body.

Before he can call her out, she shoulders past him, disappearing into the dancing crowd of people and out of his side.

“Fuck,” He mutters, running a hand through his hair before trudging off to find Niall and Zayn - to distract himself.

-

“Stay the night, please?” Anna asks softly when Harry pulls up to her small, quaint little house that fit her perfectly.

“M’sorry. I have a long day tomorrow.”

It was a lie. It was rarer that he told the truth to his girlfriend than fibbing.

“So? Let’s cuddle, do something,” She begs, frustrated with her emotionally and sometimes physically distant boyfriend.

Harry shakes his head, “Maybe next weekend.”

He always said that.

It never happened.

—

As soon as he drops off Anna, his next stop is a route that is ingrained in his head front and backwards, her apartment.

He has a key, doesn’t bother knocking and just barges into the dimly lit house with her shoes tossed clumsily on the floor - almost trips.

When he finds her, she’s in a towel - freshly showered, and brushing through her hair in her small walk-in closet.

She heard him come in, knew he was storming in here, and still didn’t turn around when he slammed open her bedroom door.

He’s crowding behind her, knocking the brush out of her hand, and pinning her to the wall, “You’re so bloody ridiculous. You jealous little brat.”

YN doesn’t respond, her body still wound tight with tension and a gluttonous feeling of rage for earlier in the night.

“Been fuckin’ you and only you since I was seventeen. Y’know that I didn’t fuck her, didn’t even touch her and you still have the nerve to act like a crybaby,” Harry seethes, his whole chest pressed against her back, no room to escape.

“Her lipstick was all over you,” She argues back weakly when his hands come to the knot in her towel, teasing at unraveling.

“Yeah because she was begging me to fuck her and I said ‘no’ so she tried to get in my pants and I pushed her off.”

“Why?” YN murmurs, quiet in the small space.

“You fuckin’ know why,” Harry growls with his teeth grazing across her bare shoulder blade.

“Say it.”

“I pushed her off ‘cause you’re the only person I’ve fucked since I was seventeen. My cock is yours,” He rasps, untying the knot and letting the towel drop.

He wishes she would just end all this bullshit.

Let him have her fully and completely but she was so fucking afraid of getting hurt when it wouldn’t happen.

“Go on, tell me who owns this cunt,” Harry demands, hand tucking between her thick thighs to cup her puffy mound in his hand.

“H,” She whimpers as his finger lightly slides up the wet groove of her center with a careful drag.

When she doesn’t give him the answer he wants, he gives her clit a hard pinch, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Yours, fuck - it’s yours,” YN huffs at the slight but welcome pain on her nerves - relaxing when it returns to soft strokes.

“Anna is pretty, y’know? Had her on me, kissing my neck, unbuttoning my shirt and shit,” Harry hums against her ear, two fingers sinking into the tight heat of her body.

He continues, “Didn’t even get hard when that happened. That’s how fucking trained I am for you. What a tight fucking leash you have me on.”

YN turns a bit into putty at his words, insecurity slow flooding out of her body, and feeling more like how she usually does.

“How do y’ever forget? How much I love you?” He asks in true disbelief, it literally oozes through his pores how much he adores his high school sweetheart.

“Don’t-“ She squeaks desperately.

“Why won’t you let me tell you how much I love you, baby?”

His voice like dark, sweet honey that seeps into her every nerve-ending and makes her feel lethargic, in a boneless silky way.

“Stop plea- Just touch me,” YN begs when his fingers crook into against her plushy, tight walls with focused strokes.

“You need to admit it, y’stubborn little thing. I know how in love you are with me,” Harry pushes, needing to hear validation from his favorite person on this earth.

He squats down, spreading her cheeks, and leaning in to lick from the top of clit all the way back to her other entrance.

His large palms keeping her apart, digging into the thick skin until his fingers are white - tongue finding her core and darting in to her most sensitive area.

“H, oh my god,” YN moans, head falling forward against the wall, pushing her hips backward into his mouth.

“Darling, c’mon. Show me how sweet y’can be f’me,” Harry goads encouragingly, it always took a little bit of effort to get her to break.

“I love you….s’much,” She whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable as he rewards her with a suckling kiss to her clit and slips his fingers back in.

“I know y’do, baby. You know I’d never give it to anyone but you,” Harry coos, anything to get her to soften her harsh edges, chip away at her stone wall.

Her hand reaches behind to weave through his hair, her stomach sucking in harshly as she feels her tight band snap as she releases.

“O-oh, you’re mine. Y’mine,” His love chants as she rides out her intense wave of her orgasm as he helps her through it.

“M’yours,” Harry agrees immediately, standing up and a smile breaks on his face when she turns around and wraps him into a hug.

“I love you. I know you didn’t touch her. I just hate it,” YN murmurs softly, undoing his shirt and sliding it off of his shoulders.

His smile fades at her words, “Then make it stop. The minute you tell me you’re ready to make this work, I’ll break up with her.”

“I’m no-not ready,” She stammers, eyes widening like a deer in headlights at his words.

So afraid. So fucking scared.

“Okay, okay,” He soothes when he sees her chest start to rise faster and faster with anxiety.

He doesn’t want to drop it.

He wants to shake her and ask her how the fuck she doesn’t see that they’re already in a relationship and she’s being blinded by irrational fears.

Harry waddles them over to her messy bed, pushing her back and adjusting until she’s in the center - staring at him with doe eyes.

He loves her so much it hurts to look at her for too long.

When he tugs off his jeans, taking his phone out to put on the side table - he sees an unread text from Anna.

I’m sorry about earlier. I really want to make it work with you. You’re a great guy x

Harry should feel bad. Maybe his stomach should have dropped or something at how awful he’s being to that girl.

But when his love is splayed out, pliant and malleable for him, he can’t find an ounce of fucks to give as he tosses it on the bedside table.

He had been in love with this girl since he was sixteen, never fell out of it, he was addicted to her - willing to go through all this bullshit if it meant he had her.

It always felt like the first time, crawling on top of her, and bending down to pull her puffy lips into a strong kiss as he slides in, always a pleasant stretch.

As they move together, in a familiar rhythm, she murmurs against his lips, “One day, I’ll be ready.”

“Please, make it soon, darlin’,” Harry pleas, swallowing harshly before pushing his emotions into hard, deep thrusts.

[hmslusitania]

Paint it Black

@evanbucxley @arrenemris you guys wanted petty, jealous Eddie stuck in an elevator with Taylor during the blackout, right?

Eddie Diaz has been involved in his share of awkward dinners.

This one takes the cake though. It starts with him showing up at Buck’s loft by himself, and Buck opening the door with that stupid puppy-dog confused tilt to his head that makes Eddie want to do something drastic.

“Where’s Ana?” he asks.

“We broke up,” Eddie says. “Figured it would be weird to invite her to dinner after that.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” Buck says, which yeah, Eddie knows because Eddie hadn’t told him yet. “I’m sorry, man.”

Which makes…one of them.

The night gets worse when Taylor shows up with her latest story of her investigation into – Eddie misses the details, but he’s discovered that Taylor’s voice somehow is at the exact right pitch that he can’t quite hear it most of the time. Weird how that works.

Buck, bless his fucking heart, feels none of the tension in the loft. Or if he does, he doesn’t react to it. He stays chipper and upbeat and positive and doesn’t comment when Eddie and Taylor trip over each other to help him with making dinner or pouring drinks or to sit beside him on the couch while the food cooks.

But, like, the spot on the couch beside Buck is Eddie’s spot, and if it’s not Eddie’s it’s Christopher’s.

And Eddie…loses the fight.

Taylor’s tiny, and for just half a second, he entertains the utterly absurd idea of just picking her up and moving her, but it flits out of his head almost as soon as it arrives. It’s quickly followed by an unfortunate realisation that it must be easy as anything for Buck to just pick her up and move her when – which is then immediately erased by the second-hand memory he acquired from Captain Mehta that Buck had been able to just pick Eddie up and toss him into the engine like he was a sack of potatoes – which –

He’s saved when dinner is ready, but he feels Taylor’s eyes on him the whole way through the meal.

Annoyingly, they end up leaving at the same time. Buck and Eddie have a shift in the morning, and Taylor has a story to cut before some deadline or other. Eddie would rather not walk out with her, would rather not share the elevator with her – he briefly considers legging it for the stairs but they’re at the other end of Buck’s floor and the elevator is right there and it would be absolutely blatant what he was doing – but if the alternative is knowing she’s staying the night at Buck’s, he’ll deal with the elevator.

They’re both quiet while the doors slide open, the soft whisper of the brushed stainless-steel brushing against the dust guards the only sound besides the simmering mutual animosity between them. They step into the elevator, which smells vaguely of Pinesol, and Taylor presses the button for the ground floor with a shiny lacquered red nail.

The doors close again and the shimmering, irritable silence fills the space. No elevator music in Buck’s building, which is probably for the best.

“So,” Taylor says as the world’s slowest elevator descends. “Is it personal or are you just jealous?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eddie says. The elevator has faux wood panelling, not mirrors, so he can’t tell if she’s looking at him or if she’s staring straight ahead like he is.

“You either hate me on a personal level, because I’m me or something,” she says. “Or you hate me because you’re in love with Buck.”

Eddie gets as far as a spluttered, indignant, “I am not in love with—”

And then the elevator lurches. Stops. The lights flicker and then die. The emergency lights do not kick on.

“Well that’s comforting,” Taylor says, dry.

Eddie pulls out his phone. Usually, it’s still connected to Buck’s wifi by the elevator, and the connection’s gone. So it isn’t just the elevator.

“There’s a button in here that calls the fire department, right?” Taylor asks, pulling out her own phone and shining it at the elevator panel. She presses the button that should connect them directly to the department, and nothing happens.

“Depending on how wide the power outage is, it might have knocked out dispatch,” Eddie says.

“Great,” Taylor says. “You’re a firefighter, you can get the doors open, right?”

“With a Halligan and a fully functional shoulder?” Eddie asks. “Sure.”

She huffs. “Do you think it’s just this building or wider?”

“How would I know?” Eddie asks.

“So helpful, thank you.”

“What do you want me to do, Taylor? Use my magical powers of divination to figure out if we’re in a building-wide, block-wide, city-wide, county-wide blackout?” Eddie snaps.

He can’t see her face in the shitty half-light of their respective phone screens, but he hears her roll her eyes.

“It’s because you’re in love with him, right?” she asks.

“For fuck’s sake, Taylor, I’m not in love with—”

“Because he’s in love with you,” she interrupts as though he hasn’t spoken. Eddie’s heart stops. “It’s weird, I’ve never really had to vie for someone’s affections before. I can’t say I’m a fan, but, see, he thinks you aren’t an option.”

“He told you this?” Eddie asks and hopes to God his voice sounds normal because it does not feel like it.

Taylor snorts. “He didn’t have to. Do you guys have any idea what you’re like when you’re around each other? It’s obvious to anyone who even meets you in passing, and I know both of you and have a journalism degree. It’s not difficult math.”

“Then why are you dating him?” Eddie asks, swallowing back the lump that’s just jumped into his throat that feels suspiciously like his heart.

“Because I like him,” Taylor says. “And because I like a challenge.”

Before Eddie can say anything rude about Buck being worth more than a challenge to someone, she sighs.

“I’d say you’re going to have to fight me for him, but it’s not going to be much of a competition,” she says.

“You really think my chances are that bad?” Eddie asks and he hates how sad he sounds, even to his own ears.

Taylor doesn’t get a chance to answer before Eddie’s phone lights up with a picture of Buck and Chris together and Buck’s name in bright letters. In the sudden illumination, he sees the annoyed, resigned expression on her face.

“That answer your question?” she replies, and Eddie answers the phone.

“Hey, did you make it out or are you stuck in the elevator?” Buck asks.

“We’re stuck in the elevator,” Eddie says. “No idea what floor. Maybe three?”

“Cool, don’t go anywhere,” Buck replies and hangs up before Eddie can ask where, exactly, they might go.

An awkward silence hangs in the elevator in the wake of the phone call.

Until, finally, Taylor says, “For what it’s worth, if I had to lose to someone, at least you’re as pretty as I am.”

Eddie is still searching for some kind of response to that – coming up absolutely blank – when the elevator doors slide open. Buck, illuminated by a headlamp, waves at them and pockets his keys.

“You have an elevator key?” Taylor asks while Buck pulls her out.

“Fire marshals and captains get ’em,” Buck says. “They’re standard across production lines.”

“Fire marshals have to give them back,” Eddie points out.

“Eh, when I was a probie, we got an elevator rescue and Bobby told me to go open the doors, and so I stood there trying to pry them open for like five minutes before he walked up to the elevator panel and unlocked them with his key,” Buck says. “Chim and Hen laughed at me for about a month every time we got near an elevator. So when I did my turn as fire marshal, I may have made a copy.”

“Of course you did,” Eddie says. He rolls his eyes and is grateful for the darkness so Buck can’t see exactly how fond he must look.

Taylor catches him, though, and for a tense second, Eddie thinks she’s going to say something about it. But Taylor Kelly is a lot of things, but “quitter” isn’t one of them. It might not be a fair fight, and the outcome might be rigged in Eddie’s favour, but he understands then that she’s going to make him fight for it. Fight for Buck.

No worthier fight, really.

“We should check in, see if they want us on shift early,” Buck says, already pulling his phone out to text or call Bobby.

“And I should go investigate,” Taylor says. “I’m sure my station is missing me.”

“Okay,” Buck says. “Do you want my headlamp for the stairs?”

“I’ve got it, but, thank you,” Taylor says. She stretches on her toes to kiss him goodbye – much more thoroughly than she had when they left Buck’s apartment. She arches an eyebrow at Eddie once she’s let go of Buck and Eddie narrows his eyes right back. “See you boys later.”

She flips on the flashlight on her phone and waltzes off to the stairs.

“We should tell all my neighbours to stay inside,” Buck says.

“Sounds like a plan,” Eddie says, shooting a text to his abuela and Chris to ask them to do the same. He doesn’t know yet if the blackout’s reached their neighbourhood, but it’s a better policy.

“So what did you and Taylor talk about while you were in the elevator together?” Buck asks in between knocking on his neighbours’ doors to announce LAFD please remain inside your homes.

“We, uh, came to an understanding,” Eddie says.

“Oh! Good,” Buck says. He pauses. “What about?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie recommends. He nudges Buck with his shoulder and gets a grin in response. “Let’s check in with Bobby and see if they need us or if they recommend we just stay inside and stay safe, too.”

“No one I’d rather weather a lockdown with,” Buck replies, as if the second she stepped into the stairwell, Taylor also disappeared from his head. “Well, except maybe Christopher.”

Eddie laughs, and thinks in Taylor’s direction, may the best person win.

[extasiswings]

Ohhh 70 (“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”) OR 93 (“You’re more than that.”) for the prompt thing, whichever you prefer! I always adore your writing, thank you so much for sharing it with us ☺️

OR? No, both. And thank you, you're very sweet. On ao3 here.

Most of the time, Buck feels like there’s no one in the world who understands Eddie as well as he does. Most of the time. Because there are still some other times when he’s completely in the dark.

And sure, okay, it makes sense on some level because they all have their blind spots—of course he’s going to have a few where Eddie is concerned as well—but they never fail to catch him by surprise.

A month after Eddie comes home from the hospital, Buck is having coffee with Carla while Eddie’s at a physical therapy appointment and he offhandedly says—

“Not sure why I never see Ana. You would think Eddie being shot would make her want to be around more, not less—”

“Buck,” Carla interrupts, a strange look passing over her face. “Honey...Eddie broke up with her three weeks ago.”

That stops Buck short, makes him feel like he’s missed a step on the stairs.

“What?” His mouth is dry. He swallows. “He—why?”

Carla picks up her cup and takes a long sip, as if she needs the extra seconds to figure out what to say, and Buck backtracks.

“No, forget it, that’s—it’s not my business,” he says. It’s not. Even if it feels a little like it should be, even if he doesn’t understand why Eddie would tell Carla and not him, even if he’s Eddie’s best friend—

Buck knows that Eddie’s a private person. He knows that sometimes Eddie keeps things close to his chest while he’s thinking them through. Eddie hadn’t said a word about Shannon until she walked into the station and aired their business for all of them to hear. He barely talked about Ana in the first place. He changed his will and sat on that information for a year—

Buck’s not upset it’s just—it feels—

The thing is.

The thing is…He’s not oblivious. He knows how he feels about Eddie. How he’s felt for at least the past two years. Like he can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t look at him without feeling like he’s screaming with it, bleeding love all over, unable to stop it dripping from every pore. Exposed and pathetically obvious, and the whole time Eddie has just—said nothing. Ignored it, Buck assumes, because he can’t not have noticed, can’t not have seen.

And maybe sometimes Buck has wondered if Eddie wasn’t ignoring it. If he felt the same and just couldn’t say it. Because he was grieving and wasn’t ready—

But then he was. He was ready. And he chose Ana Flores.

That was the end of it. That was supposed to be the end of it. Because Buck’s not a masochist, he knows he hangs onto things for too long, but he’s been working on knowing when to let go.

Except—except Eddie got shot. Eddie got shot and Buck sat on a hospital bed and stared as Eddie said no one will ever fight for my son as hard as you and you act like you’re expendable…but you’re not and the words felt…heavy. The air, weighted. And Eddie couldn’t look at him and Buck could swear that he was trying to say—

Buck knows he shouldn’t be. But there’s a part of him that’s angry. That wants to pace and run and clasp Eddie’s face between his hands and ask really? Now? Because—because Eddie got shot. Eddie got shot and Buck barely survived it, thought if Eddie died, he would have died with him, was more terrified than he’s ever been in his life. But he did survive. And he moved on. He kissed Taylor. He closed the door.

So Eddie’s not allowed to make big declarations that he could have made a year ago and then break up with his girlfriend when Buck is finally trying—

Okay, maybe he’s a little upset.

The rest of him though—most of him, really—knows he doesn’t have any right to be angry. Which is why most of him is just…tired. Tired and terrified and still so in love.

Buck thinks maybe Eddie was right all those months ago. The universe doesn’t scream. It just laughs. At him.

“Buck?” Carla’s gaze is soft. Steady.

Buck clears his throat. Drains the last dregs of his coffee. He tries not to feel like he’s swallowed glass.

“Did I tell you I’m seeing someone?” He asks, forcing a smile. “She’s a reporter. She was—she was at Eddie’s homecoming actually, maybe you met her. It’s still pretty new, but we’ve been friends for a while. Going pretty well so far.”

Something flickers in Carla’s eyes, but she takes a breath and smiles.

“That’s great, Buckaroo,” she replies. “I’m happy for you.”

He’s trying. He’s really trying.

He doesn’t ask Eddie about the breakup.

*

Recovery is slow.

Buck doesn’t really like thinking about it as recovery because Eddie’s the one who got shot. Eddie’s the one who was in a sling and in physical therapy and had to spend months waiting to be well enough to get cleared to go back to work.

Eddie’s the one who got shot. The one whose blood flooded the street. The one who spent days unconscious in the hospital. The one who almost died.

Eddie’s the only one who has anything to recover from.

Dr. Copeland doesn’t agree. Buck mentions that he’s having trouble sleeping, that his chest gets tight if he goes too long without seeing Eddie and Christopher, that he can’t breathe sometimes when he’s on shift and Eddie’s out of sight.

She refers him out to a trauma specialist. He tries to argue that it’s not his trauma, but she just looks at him for a long moment.

“When you say you can’t sleep, is it insomnia? Or do you have nightmares that wake you up?”

Buck bites his lip and looks down at his hands. When he blinks, they’re streaked with red. When he blinks again, they’re clean. He curls his fingers into fists to prevent them from shaking.

“A little of both,” he admits.

“And when it’s nightmares, what are they about?”

“…blood.” Eddie’s blood in the street, on his hands, splashed across his face, on his tongue—

She hums.

“Evan,” she says quietly. “It’s okay. It’s not a weakness to admit that you need help. And just because you weren’t shot yourself doesn’t mean you didn’t experience something traumatic. You’re allowed to seek treatment.”

Buck swallows. “I feel like…I should be better by now,” he admits. “Better than this. Shouldn’t it be easier?”

“Recovery is a process,” Dr. Copeland replies. “A journey. And it doesn’t always move in a straight line. There’s no timetable.”

Recovery. He makes a face.

But, he goes to see the specialist. He’s not sure how much it helps.

Blood splashing across his face, water running red, skin scrubbed raw—

Buck sits up gasping, cold sweat beading across his brow. Taylor is sound asleep on the other side of the bed, the distance between them a chasm he doesn’t know how to cross. He doesn’t know if he wants to even if he did.

He shivers. Grabs his phone. Quietly descends the steps of the loft to settle on the couch.

“Buck. Hey.” Eddie’s voice is gravelly and soft from sleep. Buck winces.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I don’t mind,” Eddie replies. “You know I don’t mind.”

Eddie pauses. “What was it tonight?”

Buck exhales shakily. “Your heart stopped in the truck before we could get to the hospital. I couldn’t get it to start again. I know it didn’t happen that way, but I still—”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says. “I’m okay. That—it wasn’t real.”

“Yeah.” It felt real though. Buck can still feel ribs cracking under phantom compressions, the slick of blood on his hands. He can taste Eddie’s blood in his mouth.

“What do you need?”

Buck stretches out and closes his eyes, the phone pressed hard to his ear.

You. Just you. Always you.

“Can you—” His throat clicks. “Can you just talk? It doesn’t matter about what, I just—”

I need to hear your voice. I need to hear you alive.

“Christopher picked a project for the science fair,” Eddie says. “You have to promise to act surprised when he tells you though. He’s really excited.”

“Oh yeah? I can do that. What is it?”

“Well…”

Buck falls asleep again with Eddie’s voice in his ear and he doesn’t dream again. Taylor wakes him on the couch in the morning, an odd look on her face—he doesn’t know how to explain that it’s not her fault. She just can’t help him. Perhaps she never could.

Buck thinks maybe there’s still a part of her that wants him to chase her. But he’s in no condition to chase anyone, even if he wanted to. It takes enough out of him to hold himself together. And to fight against what seems more and more inevitable.

So. Maybe he should stop fighting it.

He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face as he sits up.

“I think we should probably talk,” he says quietly.

Taylor tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and sinks down onto the couch next to him.

“I think we should.”

It ends as quickly as it began.

*

Christmas takes him by surprise. It’s not that Buck doesn’t notice the fall slipping away—a Halloween shift, a Veteran’s Day that has Eddie a little quieter, a little shakier, than usual, and Thanksgiving lasts practically a whole week with all the leftovers that end up in the station—but somehow it doesn’t fully register until he looks up at the calendar in the middle of December and sees a smiling Christmas tree sticker on a date ten days out. They’re not working, so the only question is where he’s going to end up, if anywhere. Although, he supposes even that’s not really a question.

He knows where he’ll end up.

Five days before Christmas, a last-minute tree has been wrangled into the Diaz house and Buck is fighting with a tangled set of lights while Eddie pulls out wrapping paper and ribbons and retrieves the hidden stash of gifts for Christopher from his closet. Christopher himself is fast asleep in his room, worn out from the day of running around, and without the extra person to focus on Buck takes a moment and lets himself just...watch Eddie. Sitting on the floor in low light with his legs stretched out, surrounded by ornaments and boxes and stray clippings and a small pile of somewhat lumpy, clumsily wrapped gifts, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he focuses on trying to figure out the right way to fold the wrapping paper—

There’s a stray piece of tinsel in his hair and a laugh catches in Buck’s throat, even as the rest of him aches with a sudden, fierce urge to brush it away.

He aches. Because this—this is what he wants. Eddie and Christopher and going around town to finish the Christmas shopping, picking out a tree and decorating it as a family, coming home to this day after day after day and knowing it’s where he’s supposed to be—

Eddie got shot. Eddie got shot and it was the worst moment of Buck’s life. He thinks sometimes that he would rather have his leg crushed under a thousand ladder trucks than risk going through that again, but—but running away didn’t make him stop loving Eddie. Dating Taylor didn’t make him stop loving Eddie. Time hasn’t made him feel anything less, if anything it’s just cemented things.

So...so if Eddie is going to have the power to hurt him that badly regardless of whether Buck admits it out loud, if the risk of loss is going to be there anyway...shouldn’t he at least get to have everything? All the good parts?

Don’t they deserve the chance to be happy?

“Buck?” Eddie’s brow is furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

Buck opens his mouth, intending to reassure him, but what comes out is—

“Are you in love with me?” Eddie freezes and Buck resists the urge to panic and take it back.

“Because—” Buck clears his throat. “Because sometimes I think you might be, and—”

“Yes.” It’s quiet, barely a breath, but that single word hangs in the air. Buck’s heart races.

“You could have told me,” he replies. “Why—why didn’t you just—?”

Eddie looks away and Buck catches a familiar look flickering across his face. Doubt, shame, fear—everything that he himself has felt—

Oh.

Blind spots.

He never considered that Eddie might be just as afraid of rejection as he is. He never considered that what’s been so painfully obvious to him, might not have been to Eddie himself.

Buck gets up from the couch, stepping carefully around the mess on the floor until he can kneel down next to Eddie. Eddie, whose jaw is tight, shoulders tense, like he’s waiting for a blow.

“After everything we’ve been through...you still don’t know that I love you?” Buck asks quietly.

Eddie sucks in a startled breath, turning back to look at him, his gaze searching. Buck holds it steadily and waits. It’s not the first time he’s walked out on a limb. But it is the first time he’s had someone else out there with him.

If it cracks this time, they’ll fall together.

“I didn’t think—” Eddie’s eyes close briefly as he clears his throat. “I didn’t think I was enough.”

“You are,” Buck replies. “You’re more than—Eddie—”

“We have a life,” he says when he can get his thoughts in line. “We built a life. Together. Even if we didn’t say that was what we were doing, it’s what we did. So, maybe—maybe we can try being a little more honest about what we want while we’re living it? I don’t—I don’t want to waste anymore time.”

Eddie looks down—then, he reaches out slowly for Buck’s hand, his fingers finding the spaces between Buck’s and slotting in.

Buck squeezes gently. Eddie squeezes back.

“Okay,” Eddie agrees. “Let’s try that.”

Buck does pluck the tinsel from Eddie’s hair, but when he tosses it away, his hand comes right back, fingers sliding into the strands to keep Eddie still. Eddie’s eyes are dark in the dim light, but his lips curve faintly up as Buck leans in.

Kissing him feels like coming home.

[avenirdelight]

Warm Up to You | PART 1

Declan Rice

Part 2

Written for @footballffbarbiex’s winter writing challenge. Prompt: warming them up when they’re cold. (With mentions of Mason Mount)

Winter Wonderland. A massive winter fair in Hyde Park full of festive fun.

The colourful sparkling lights and lively music that showered the place, along with everyone’s joyous demeanour really displayed the festive spirit.

But it was cold and she didn’t feel the festivities at all.

Well, she probably still would be excited for this, if only Niki and Brian hadn’t cancelled on them. Now that they had suddenly cancelled, for a reason she didn’t really buy, she became the most sulky and grumpy person you could ever find in this whole fair. Definitely even grumpier than that kid she’d just seen who was prohibited from more candies by his mum, at least.

Because Niki and Brian cancelling meant that there were only four of them left — Mason, Anastasia, Declan, and her.

Now let’s talk about Mason and Anastasia. They were lovebirds. They were madly in love and all they had eyes on was for each other. Don’t get her wrong, she loved them both and thought that they made a cute couple. But this only meant that Declan and her were double third-wheeling and no way that was a good thing.

Why? Because she and Declan couldn’t stand each other.

Yes, it was pretty weird. Everybody thought that it was weird for her to be in the same group of friends and to always hang out together with Declan, but every time she was asked if they were friends, she would always answer hesitantly, “Yeah… Kind of?”. She thought that they were only friends because they were in the same close-knit circle.

So she really wished that she could just go home right now and tuck herself into her warm bed, get Netflix on, and binge her favourite shows. But instead, she was trailing behind Mason and Ana who literally smiled and said “Aaaw, that’s so cute!” at every single thing they saw (seriously, she would throw up if she heard one more cringey, lovey-dovey thing from them), while being followed by Declan who walked behind her in an awkward silence.

She didn’t like it at all. Tonight was going to be a long night.

—

“Seriously, where are they?” Judged by the look on her face, the tone of her voice, and her fidgety manner, it was clear that she was infuriated.

“I don’t know.” Declan’s eyes were squinted and his head kept turning from left to right and back again non-stop like those at Laughing Clowns games you find at carnivals. He had probably scanned a hundred of faces in the past minute, trying to look for some familiar faces; Mason’s and Ana’s, to be exact.

“Try to call them,” she urged, getting more and more impatient.

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Declan flashed her a look of annoyance, slightly showing her his phone that had been glued to his left ear for the past fifteen minutes.

“Why aren’t they picking up??”

“I don’t know, okay?” Declan’s tone slightly went up. “Just calm down, at least we’ve still got a working phone here.”

She glanced at her broken phone before sliding it back to her purse, cursing it in her mind because it decided to act up in an urgent situation like this. 

What happened was, Mason and Ana had gone missing. They had all gone to the restroom, but the only ones who had come back to their meeting point were her and Declan. They’d even try to go back to the restrooms to find the couple, but they had been nowhere to be found. She and Declan were now standing in the cold, clueless to their whereabouts.

“What if something bad happened to them, Dec?” she asked worriedly, also scanning through every face that passed her, stretching her neck as much as possible and standing on her toes once in a while.

“Nah, I’m sure they’re fine,” Declan muttered. “They probably found each other and get distracted by something stupid.”

If those two people really dared to ditch her alone with Declan, she swore that she would never forgive them.

They stayed like that for another five minutes but Declan was starting to get hopeless. He was sending Mason another text, when he sensed that something was wrong with her.

“You’re cold,” Declan muttered. She briefly glanced at him before hugging herself a little tighter with her jacket.

“I’m fine,” she lied. It wasn’t this cold before, but her hands started to feel colder and she shuddered at every little blow of wind. She was wearing two layers of clothes, but it felt like she was only wearing a thin shirt.

“Nah, you clearly are.” Declan could see it. Her face was a little bit pale and her lips were slightly trembling. He’d just realised that her being fidgety was her attempt to warm herself up. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

She shook his head, denying his proposal. “No, we can’t go anywhere. They wouldn’t be able to find us.”

“They’ll find us somehow, believe me,” Declan tried to reassure her, gazing at her who was biting the bottom of her lip. “If we don’t find each other, we’ll just meet in the car. We’ll all go back to Ana’s place anyway. Come on, let’s get you somewhere warm.” Declan got a hold of her elbow, but she dodged him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she insisted, voice and face all stern and firm.

“Oh my f— Are you serious? You’re just gonna stand here for the rest of the night?” Declan challenged her with an irritated look, and she answered it with a sharp unrelenting stare. He shook his head in disbelief and sighed exasperatedly, completely bemused by how she was acting.

So then they just stood side by side in silence, watching all these people walk past them, envious of the jolly these strangers were feeling.

She hoped that Mason and Ana would come back any second. Declan was probably right; they had found each other, decided to wander off somewhere, and had gotten distracted by another cute thing they found. But she didn’t want to give up on waiting for them just yet, because if she did, that only meant she would be stuck with Declan for the rest of the night.

But, God, she was totally freezing. Her nose had started to get itchy and a pressure of pain pounded on her head once every thirty seconds. She thought that maybe it wasn’t that cold and she was just the one catching a cold, because Declan looked completely okay. Well, that man was used to playing out on a cold night, even on a raging storm, so this was probably nothing for him.

Another huge blow of wind and her whole body shook; her teeth clashed rather loudly as she let out a shaky long breath.

The next thing she knew, Declan was leaning to her, so she looked up to him to meet his eyes.

“Wait here, don’t go anywhere,” Declan ordered.

She didn’t have the chance to ask, let alone stop him. Declan had suddenly gone away right into the crowd and she lost sight of him in seconds.

She scoffed and cursed under her breath. Now Declan ditched her too?? What the hell was wrong with her friends? Seriously, they had completely forgotten the number one rule of travelling as a group. You were supposed to stick together and stick to the plan!

Her head was really hurting now. It was the moment she realised that maybe she should’ve just listened to Declan, maybe they would be in a much more comfortable and warm place right now. She tried to stop the shivering by tightening her jacket around her again, closing her eyes and tucking her lips in between her teeth. Her toes were starting to get cold too, she knew she was in trouble.

She wouldn’t pass out, would she? What would happen if she really did? She couldn’t, though, it would be so embarrassing. But if she did, she hoped Declan wouldn’t really just abandon her there… Oh, her head was hurting so bad… What was the best way to warm yourself up in the cold…? And her shoulders…

…Are warm now.

She jerked out from her trance, eyes shot wide open as a little gasp escaped her lips. She looked up and she was greeted by Declan’s worried face.

She looked down and realised that there was an unrecognisable jacket wrapped around her body. She noticed something at the left side of the jacket and quickly figured out that it was Winter Wonderland’s logo. She was confused, but it felt warmer now.

“Don’t protest or I’m really gonna leave you here, I swear to God,” Declan threatened with his deep voice.

She saw him fiddling with a beanie, also with Winter Wonderland’s logo at the front. Declan looked like he was going to put it on her, but she’d look hideous in that, so she tilted her head to avoid it. 

Declan shook his head. “You know what you need to do? Stop being stubborn when it’s needed. ‘Cause it’s really not gonna help you, you know?”

She hated how he was right. She said nothing, so Declan proceeded to put the beanie on her. And now her head and ears felt warmer too.

Declan went back to the jacket and tried to secure it around her, when his hands brushed against her fingers. He frowned in a little bit of shock. “Jeez, you’re freezing.”

She didn’t even know what to think when Declan took both of her hands in his. She was literally freezing now, she couldn’t get herself to move. The worried look on his face turned into a look of panic now. He brought her hands close to his mouth and he blew some warm air at them.

She only stared at him with her hooded eyes, too dysfunctional to react; all she knew was that she loved the warmth and it felt really nice. She let Declan do whatever he was doing to warm her up.

“You’re not feeling well, aren’t you? Do you feel sick?” Declan sounded genuinely concerned. He fixed his gaze at her, not liking how pale she looked.

She only managed to give him a little nod.

“Let’s go home, okay? Won’t be any good if you stay here,” he pleaded. 

She took a few seconds to decide before answering with another nod. Declan nodded too this time. He linked their hands and put his other hand on the small of her back, as he guided her to move through the ocean of people to get themselves back safely to the car.

—

The heater on the car was on and she curled up to Declan with his arms wrapped around her as he tried to provide her more warmth. She was still shivering, but at least it felt way more comfortable right now. Declan had even put her right hand inside his jacket, so it was now resting against his left rib.

The normal version of her would probably see this as an embarrassing thing, to be in such an intimate state with Declan, but right now this version of her really didn’t care. Tonight had been awful and the safety she was feeling right now was everything that she needed, even if it came from Declan.

“You shouldn’t have gone if you knew you were sick,” Declan mumbled against her head on his shoulder.

“I didn’t,” she answered shortly in between her heavy breaths.

“Should’ve gone home earlier. You stood for almost an hour in the cold.” There was a hint of regret in his voice. “Do you know how stubborn you are? You should’ve listened to me and—”

“Shut up, Dec, I’m dizzy,” she cut him off and Declan sighed in defeat.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “And you haven’t even had dinner… I’ll tell Maisie or Jacob to get us something and some meds for you.”

Through her half-lidded eyes, she saw Declan fiddling with his phone. The light from the screen hurt her head so she closed her eyes, burying her face to Declan’s shoulder. A moment later, Declan softly spoke to Maisie on the phone, informing that she wasn’t well and asking for help.

Her mind wandered somewhere else.

She didn’t know why, but she actually didn’t feel annoyed that Declan was taking care of her. He was showing her his gentle side and she wasn’t mad about it.

Now that she thought about it, she realised that Declan had always cared for her, even though most of the time she’d let her guard up and brush him off. In all those nights out or summer holidays over the years that they’d gone together, there had always been moments where Declan took care of her. Whether stepping up to take care of her when she was hurt or as simple as keeping eyes on her in the club so no guy had a chance to disrespect her or make her uncomfortable.

And she wondered why those things had always slipped from her mind. Maybe because those rather hurtful words, sarcastic remarks, and careless actions, six years worth of it, had always prevented her from remembering the good things.

But Declan had been good tonight and it was probably her fault too for being stubborn, she’d got to admit it. She suddenly wondered how it would be if she and Declan didn’t try to get on each other’s nerves every time. Maybe their silences wouldn’t always be awkward, but rather comfortable like the one engulfing them right now.

“Dec?”

“Hmm?” He slightly moved his head, trying to get a little view of her face.

She sighed softly. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

She couldn’t see it, but the corners of Declan’s lips perked up into a small smile. Those were words that he barely received from her and he liked the sound of it.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, and she didn’t know how it was possible, but it did make her feel a little bit warmer.

And who knew, maybe it was the beginning for her heart to really warm up to him.

—

now…i really love this one🥺 maybe because i love declan, but also because i’ve been into enemies into lovers plots so i wanted this one to be about that. and i saw declan went to winter wonderland and i was like, that’s it!!! and it’s kind of personal but despite him being a couple years younger than me it see him as someone older, so in this one i made him someone protective, wiser, and gentle like how i always imagine him to be😆

but i mean, imagine him with his fluffy hair?? those photos and videos from yesterday’s match definitely made me feel warm…

anyway, i hope you enjoyed that and i’d love to hear what you think or what you like about the story! do you think mason and ana ditched them on purpose?☺️

My Masterlist🤍

[padme-parker]

Mizpah // the darkling x f!reader // ch 3

summary: After finally meeting the darkling, the two of you have a one on one conversation. It seems like Mal and Alina also have one. An offer is made to you, one that you could simply not deny

A/N: Please read this before continuing-- From here on, the rest of the fic will most likely be following the book series instead of the show. However there will be some aspects of the show woven in! Also I know the beginning of this chapter doesn’t line up with what happened in ch 2 but its whatever. for the sake of the story, the timeline is going to be dragged out for as long as possible <3 

I also made a playlist, give it a look :))

As Mal walks with the guard towards the room the General had directed for him to wait in, he hears his name being called out. His heart pounds at the sound of Alina’s familiar voice. He turned around, her face being split by a giant smile. Alina runs toward him, engulfing him in a hug, her arms around his neck.

“What’re you doing here?” She asked

“Hell if I know.” Mal said with a weariness that Alina hadn’t expected. “I had a report to make to your master.”

“My what?” There was confusion on her face before a grin took its place. “You and y/n were the ones who found Morozova’s herd. I should’ve known, the two best trackers in all of Ravka.” Alina knew something was off. Mal couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes, where had all the excitement he had felt earlier gone?

“I should go.”

“What do you mean? You just got here.” The sun summoner could feel something topple over in her, all of the anger and embarrassment that she had built up. All the letters she had sent, but never gotten a reply to. All the times she had hoped Mal would come and find her, yet when he finally did, he was just going to leave again. “You know what, sorry. I didn’t realize I was wasting your time.” She sneered, the love in her eyes now replaced with animosity.

“I didn’t say that.” He argued.

“No, no, I understand. You can’t be bothered to answer my letters. Why would you want to stand here talking to me, while y/n is waiting saints knows where.” Mal’s mood shifted into one of confusion.

“I didn’t get any letters.” He whispered.

“Yeah right.” She replied angrily. Mal sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“We have to move constantly to track the herd. My unit is barely in contact with the regiment anymore.” Mal was tired of arguing with Alina. He had come to see one of his bestest friends, he didn’t expect for it to end like this.

Alina hesitates for a second to look at Mal, noticing how much he has changed since she was taken from the Darklings tent. He was no longer the Mal she knew, something had happened to him since the months she had been gone. His eyes were colder, his posture was one of somebody who was always on alert.

“You didn’t get any of my letters?” She uttered, feeling the ends of her heart fraying. He shook his head, she could tell his mind was elsewhere now, a distant look in his expression.

“Mal, I..” She hesitated. “Can’t you stay a little while longer?” She pleaded. She hated the fact that she had to do so just to spend time with him. “You can’t imagine what it’s been like here.” He lets out a laugh, one riddled with sarcasm.

“I don’t need to imagine. I saw your little demonstration in the ballroom. Very impressive.” He sneered.

“You saw me?”

“Yes, both y/n and I got a glimpse of you.” He paused, trying to search for the right words. “Do you know how worried I’ve been about you? How worried we were? Y/n was stationed near the southern borders and when she came looking for us she was so worried. She didn’t know what happened to you and neither did I. I couldn’t tell her the truth because I had no what they’d done to you! We had no way to reach you. Did you know that there were rumors that you were being tortured?” The words left his mouth in a quivering mess. “When we had heard of the opportunity to see you once more, we took it. We did it for you, Alina.”

“Really?” She tried to believe Mal, why would he come looking for her when he could be with anyone else. After all of these years, she had become so used to his indifference.

“Yes.” He hissed. “And here you are, safe and sound. Dancing and flirting like some cosseted little princess-”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” She snapped. “I’m sure the Darkling can arrange for a rack or some hot coals if that would make you feel better” Mal scowled and stepped away from her. She couldn’t believe that they were fighting. Alina lays her hand on one of his arms and feels it tense below her, yet he doesn’t pull away.

“Mal, I can’t help the way things are here. I didn’t ask for any of this!” He looks at her and then looks away, some of the tension leaving his body.

“I know you didn’t.” The weariness in his voice came back, making Alina remove her hand from his arm. “What happened to you Mal?” She whispered. Mal chose to say nothing, staring into the darkness of the hall. She lays her hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble on her palm. She turns his face until his eyes meet hers.

“I can’t…” She lets her fingertips wander to the scar on his jaw.

“Genya can fix this, she can..” She knows she said the wrong thing when Mal takes a step back.

“I don’t need fixing” He snapped. Snatching Alina’s hand from where it had just been seconds before.

“I didn’t mean..”

“Are you happy here, Alina?” The question took her by surprise.

“I don’t know… sometimes…”

“Are you happy here? With him?” Alina didn’t have to ask who Mal meant. She didn’t know what to say.

“You're wearing his symbol. His colors.” He observed, his eyes glancing at the gold charm hanging on her neck.

“They’re just clothes.” She tried to convince him, quite possibly herself too.

“You and I both know that they’re more than just clothes.”

“What difference does it make what I wear?”

“The clothes, the jewels.” He spat. “Even the way you look. He’s all over you!” The words hit her like a slap. She takes her hand from his tight embrace and crosses it over her chest.

“It’s not like that.” She said, avoiding his gaze. Mal could see right through her, he could see the flush that had started to form when he had mentioned the Darkling.

“I saw how he looked at you Alina!”

“I like how he looks at me!” She shouted, a malicious smile forming on Mal’s face.

“Just admit it,” He sneered. “He owns you.”

“He owns you too, Mal.” She bit back. “He owns us all.” The smile falling from his face.

“No, he doesn’t.” He said fiercely. “Not me. Not y/n. Not ever.”

“Oh really? Don’t you have someplace to be? Don’t you have orders to follow?” Mal stands up straight, his face cold and devoid of any emotions.

“Yes, I did. My orders were to wait for you to be taken to me. But I think I found what I’ve been looking for.” He turned sharply and walked out, leaving Alina to her thoughts. She finally lets the tears fall down her cheeks, her body coursing with anger and heartbreak. For months she had dreamt of the day where she would be able to see Mal again. She had spent her whole lifetime chasing after him, but she knew now it was time to let him go.

-

THE DARKLING walks closer to you, while you stay propped up next to the door. You fidget with your hair, moving it to one side as he inches closer and closer until he is a few feet away from you. You anticipated his next moves, he brings his hand to you neck and strokes it.

“Your bleeding.” It seems like Genya had nicked you after all. “Here, let me.” He offered, taking a cloth from his pocket and gently wiping the small amount of blood away. His other hand resting at the nape of your neck for stability. You watched his eyes as he concentrated on his actions. You prayed to the saints that he couldn’t hear the incredibly fast pace your heart was beating at.

“So, what did you need to speak to me about.” You questioned. Deeming his work satisfactory, he takes a step back. Tucking the bloodied cloth back into his kefta.

“Have you eaten yet?” He asked.

“What?” Some of the excitement inside of you had deflated.

“It must’ve been a long ride from Kribirsk, I’m sure you're starving.” He calls out for one of the oprichniki outside of his doors and orders them to bring dinner for the two of us.

“I appreciate the gesture, sir. But surely that’s not why you wanted me to stay behind.”

“No, you’re right. Take a seat.” He points to a smaller table, one that hadn’t been occupied by maps and war strategies. It was a rectangular table, both seats facing the window that had shown the view of the lake. You walked towards the table and took a seat. The moonlight glimmered off of the lake, making you smile. He places a lantern in the middle of the table, assuring that you were not going to eat in the dark. In one swift motion, he sits right next to you, his body angled towards yours. “How do you know Alina?”

“We grew up together.” He looked at you, pressing for more details. “In an orphanage in Keramzin.” You were interrupted by a knock, the food had finally arrived. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until the smell of roasted lamb had made your mouth water. “Is that roasted lamb? It’s my favorite!” The Darkling shot you a smile, motioning for you to dig in.

“I was alone until Alina and Mal had come in.” You said between bites. “I never knew my parents. Ana Kuya said I had just turned up one day on the doorsteps, wrapped in nothing but a blanket. I used to get bullied, but when they showed up, they started picking on Mal too. Alina, being the great person she is, defended us both.” A smile made its way onto your lips as you reminisced about your youth. “From then, the three of us were like peas in a pod. We were never seen without each other. That was until we joined the First Army. Alina and Mal had been stationed near Kribirsk while I was down south in Caryeva. We rarely got to see each other.” The Darkling watched as you shoveled the food into your mouth. His hands clasped together, resting on his lap as he listened intently.

“Are you not going to eat?” You pointed the knife in your hand at his plate.

“No, it’s for you.” He replied, pushing the plate closer to you. You squinted your eyes, bewildered by the movement.

“What do you want from me?” The words had left your mouth before you could think, “Sorry, I..” Truly, what would the darkling want from someone like me? Someone who wasn’t like him. You thought to yourself.

“Stay. I want you to stay at the palace.” He announced, his request shocking you to the core. “..Alina needs a friend here, someone she knows and is familiar with. Someone she is comfortable around.”

“What about Mal?” You set down the fork and knife, forgetting about the food.

“He is welcome to stay too.” A quiet and hesitant knock is heard after he finishes speaking. He calls out for the person, allowing them to enter. “Ah, Alina. We were just talking about you.” He motions for her to come to the table.

She gingerly walks over to you, her arms crossed over her chest. “What about me?” She asked.

“I’ve invited our friend here, y/n, to stay at the palace. Your friend, Mal, may stay too.”

“He won’t be staying here.” She sniffled, a sarcastic laugh leaving her lips.

“What? Why?” You inquired.

“He left.” She explained. You knew she was leaving out some details. Just mere hours ago, Mal had been ecstatic to see her again. Yet now he was gone? Something wasn’t adding up. You’d pester her later about it when you weren’t in the presence of the Darkling.

“My offer to you still stands, y/n. You may stay, granted that you take residence in this hall.” Alina tried to hide her shock, no one had ever stayed in the Darkling’s hall. He had it all to himself. She didn’t even know there were other rooms near his. “If you are to stay here at the Little Palace as a guest, then I’ll need to be able to keep an eye on you just in case something happens.”

You give yourself some time to decide. You had duties to attend to, you and Mal had to track the stag. However, given that the two of you had pinpointed it’s location, there wasn’t much left to do. What the Darkling was offering you had been everything you’d dreamt of. If you stayed you wouldn’t have to wait days just to bathe. You wouldn’t have to starve anymore.

“How long would I stay?”

“For as long as Alina likes.” He said. You turned to Alina, asking if this had been the right choice for you. She gives you an eager nod.

“Fine. I’ll stay for Alina.” You look at her again, taking note of the color of her kefta. She was wearing his colors, which could possibly mean one thing. “Are you two together?” Alina’s eyes widen with humility while the Darkling lets out a brief laugh.

“Sorry for her behaviour. She just doesn’t know how to shut her trap.” She moved from where she was leaning against the table and pinched your arm. Her playful glare made you giggle. She opens her mouth to talk again.

“No, we aren’t.” The Darkling answered for her. He noticed the frown on her face, sending her a tight lipped smile, signalling that they would talk later. “You must be tired. Let me show you to your quarters. Alina, stay here.” He motioned for you to follow. Alina watched as the two of you left the war room, a sigh leaving her lips.

You followed him for a few paces before he stopped in front of a door. “Your room is right across from mine if you ever need anything. However I think everything you need is already there.” He replied. You waited around, wondering what was to happen next. He nodded his head towards the door, allowing you to enter. The room had been dark, no lanterns had been lit up due to the room being unoccupied. The Darkling called for an inferni. One came over quickly, lighting up the candles and lanterns as quickly as she could. The room was quite similar to Alina’s, the only difference being that most of the furniture had his symbol engraved on it. Had this room once belonged to his lover? You were too afraid to ask, not wanting to overstep your boundaries. “I’ll be back in the morning to give you a proper tour of the palace. Until then, get some rest.” Without bidding you goodbye, the Darkling left to go speak with Alina.

Without wasting a second, you ran towards the tub, drawing yourself a warm bath. It had been so long since you had been able to bathe by yourself. You’d gotten used to bathing with the other female soldiers that you had forgotten had relaxing it could be. You wash all the accumulated dirt and grime from your body along with your hair. Feeling the water begin to grow cold, you reach for a robe before heading towards the dresser.

It’s contents were luxurious. Many gorgeous dresses, all varying lengths. Countless nightgowns embroidered with flower designs. At the very end of the dresser was a kefta. No ordinary one, it was gold with black detailing. It seemed to stop mid knee. You wanted to reach out to it, to feel it underneath your fingertips but decided not to. Maybe another day. Instead you reached out for a nightgown and slipped it on. To your surprise it fit perfectly, almost too perfectly. Deciding not to dwell on it for much longer, you blow out the candles, leaving the lanterns alight and slip under the heavy covers of the bed. The fatigue from the journey finally caught up with you, and you found yourself sleeping within the minute.

-

“I won’t let you take them!” A voice that sounded like yours shouted. What were you talking about? Who were you talking about?

“You have no say in this matter.” You couldn’t tell who was talking and it frustrated you, it felt like their name was on the tip of your tongue.

“There’s always a choice.” Before you knew it someone had pressed a cold blade against your throat, gasping emerging from the people around you.

“No! Don’t do it.” Someone pleaded just as another shouted your name.

“I won’t be your pawn, not anymore.” You said, the next thing you felt was the warmth of your own blood dripping on you. You stumbled back, your hands going to the laceration on your neck. You gasped and whimpered in pain as you felt more blood leave you. In the background you could hear someone screaming, another one sobbing whilst saying your name.

-

You woke up screaming, your hands going to your neck as you stumbled out of bed, falling onto the floor. The door to your room flew open and in came the Darkling along with the oprichniki. Some had their pistols drawn, ready to shoot, while others held their arms up. The Darkling and his guards ran about your room, looking for an intruder to find none. Noticing the state you were in, he ordered the guards to leave.

He crouched down to you, reaching out his hand to touch you before pulling back. “Are you alright?” Your gaze met his, you observed the sun's rays coming through your windows, lighting him up like an angel. His eyes held concern as you hesitated to answer him.

“I’m not sure..” For the first time in your life, you were terrified. You shed a few tears as you looked at him, your shaking hands still around your neck. He hovers his hand over yours, stopping just before they made contact. He was asking for permission to touch you. With a nod, he gently placed his hands atop of yours before removing them. The birthmark on your neck was now raw and red, as if you had been violently scratching it.

Your dream had left you in shambles as one thought ran wildly through your mind, was my birthmark a warning of what was to come?

-

tags: @all-art-is-quite-useless @devilxangel @musicconversedance @parabatai-winchester @runawayolives @tartiflvtte @rbg1933 @thatguppienamedbae @batgal96 @thebarisinhell99 @5hundreddaysofsummer @kaqua @queenseneschal @benbarnes-supremacy @princessofpersia96 @takethee @dontjinx-it @freakytillthemoon @amortentiaaaa @marvel-ousnesss @coolninjavoid @areomalfoy @pansysgirlfriend @universalirwin @leavejuliaalone @xx-winwin-wednesday-xx @honeyofthegods @lunamyangel @d-list-goddess @comphersjost @telepathdestiel​ @the-celestial-kitsune @thestoryofmylife9​ @s-corpionem​ @pancakeisreading @sanna2020 @secretsandtinyshadows @savannah-elliott @maliasblue @tea-effect @disneyandharrypotter​ @futuristicpinklemur @tanyaherondale @the-puff-is-strong-with-this-one @hxgreeves @yourboiialucard​ @thereeallink @ladyblablabla​ @wolfieellsworld​ @p3nny4urth0ught5​ @louweasleymalfoy

I tagged everyone I could </3

Also not proofread so sorry for any mistakes lmao

[fcntasmas-archive]

Buddie & 29: Wedding fic + 100: Accidentally Saving the Day ??? I'll have you know the romantic in me just wanted to do wedding and flowers but you know plot is probably good lmao also Idk if I did this right but

FOR YOU MY LOVE???? i would have done it. i would have, ok. and i woulda found a plot somewhere in there, too, unlike this mess you allowed me to write: ok. so. i feel like around october 2021, maddie and chimney finally decide to get married. it’s long overdue, yadda yadda, they’ve heard it all. but they’re happy with the road they’ve taken — however long it’s been, it’s theirs, and theirs alone. their relationship was built on patience and understanding, after all, and after a long and unified treatment of maddie’s postpartum depression (with extensive therapy and medication as needed) for the rest of the year, they feel like they’re finally in a place to throw this big and beautiful party they feel like they’ve definitely earned. buck and eddie, on the other hand. eh. things are not progressing as we would hope. don’t get me wrong — after eddie confessed to buck that he’d changed his will to make buck christopher’s legal guardian, he’d felt — not — something had shifted, and buck had simply assumed that was their friendship growing stronger, and he was right, for the most part — their friendship was stronger than ever. buck spent a lot of time with them, he was more cautious out on calls (if eddie doesn’t want his kid to end up with his parents in case of his death, it’ll be pretty fucking hard to prevent that if buck is also dead, after all), he was just — grateful. aware of what a gift every day is. yeah, he’s dating taylor, but he’s doing a good job of balancing his relationship and this new role he’s found in the diazes’ lives (i mean. so he assumes, but taylor’s been left on read by him enough times to know something’s gotta give here). and eddie is— he’s going crazy, okay? he’s going insane. because when he got shot, the last thing he saw was buck’s face, and so when he woke up, the first thing he expected to see was buck’s face because it felt like a second had passed but instead he saw ana’s and there was this deep, gut-wrenching disappointment when it happened and he didn’t mean for buck to be the first person he asked after, but last he’d remembered there was blood all over him and he just wanted to make sure he was okay— and it was this big, monumental thing for him, to realize that buck was — buck is — the best decision he’s ever made in his life. because that’s what buck is — a choice. he chose buck — everything good in his life has come to him through blessings or coincidence. he loves his son with all of his being, but even he was a surprise, a surprise he welcomed with open arms (and fears that formed into an escape but he got back, somehow. he found his way back to him, like he always does). buck, on the other hand, was a man who hated him for approximately twelve hours, then smiled at him and told eddie he could have his back any day. he’d tentatively offered himself in eddie’s life as a partner, a friend, a confidant, and eddie — eddie chose to let him in. eddie, notorious for keeping as many cards as possible close to his chest, allowed him into his life to fill all of these roles, and eddie hasn’t regretted it a single day of his life. trusts him with his entire world more than anyone — and god, if that shouldn’t have said something to him sooner. so. he’s kind of stupidly in love with buck, who is kind of dating taylor kelly, and it’s fine, he’s fine. (except for the part that he feels like every single tendon in his body is slowly and painfully snapping out of place, threatening to leave him a crumbled useless mess on the floor any day now. but that’s, like, fine.)

it doesn’t get any easier. mostly because buck’s place in his life doesn’t diminish despite him dating taylor and especially since eddie breaks up with ana. he’s there for all the big stuff — christopher’s birthday, abuela’s birthday, tia pepa’s retirement party, eddie’s extensive physical therapy, at three in the morning when eddie wakes up from a nightmare and all he can do is seek out the comfort of buck’s voice, quiet and alive in his ear.

it’s infuriating because he’s always there, in the months that follow the shooting, the same way he’s always been, so instead of shoving the feeling down eddie is forced to confront it every single day in the way buck smiles at him, in the way he reaches out and squeezes him arm in comfort when he’s far away, in the way he makes christopher breakfast and answers his endless array of questions, in the way he greets his grandmother with a kiss to the cheek and dutifully allows her to make the sign of the cross over him before he leaves despite not being religious in the slightest, in the way he subconsciously reaches out to eddie after every call as if to make sure he’s still there, it’s in every single part of buck and buck is in every single part of him and so he cannot — even if he wanted to try — shove the feeling aside when it’s so fucking alive in him every single day.

and it’s why, a day before the wedding on a december evening, when buck leaves one of his many jackets behind at their house and eddie picks it up to move it from the couch to the entrance to remember to give it back to him, he feels like his soul leaves his body when he sees a small black box fall from the pocket and onto his floor.

it’s a ring. it’s obviously a ring.

and he spends the rest of the night staring at the box in his hand, terrified of opening it, not wanting to know what it looks like. because what would taylor kelly like, in a ring? eddie can’t imagine it wouldn’t be something extravagant. buck probably knows. he has to know, if he’s picking one out for her. if he’s so sure about her he’s going to propose.

and that’s just — is it chim and maddie? has it gotten buck thinking about the future? should eddie ask? because buck shouldn’t — he shouldn’t. it’s only been months, for fuck’s sake. he’s just gonna — and when does he even find the time—

he is desolate. he doesn’t even call buck that night, after he wakes up from a nightmare, because this one is shaped a lot like the black box he refuses to open sitting on his end table, and he can’t really explain that one away to buck, can he?

he thinks about it the entire morning of, when he doesn’t hear from buck. he doesn’t expect to, obviously; he’s busy being maddie’s best man (something about not conforming to the norms or whatever) and he has to be at the reception way earlier than any of the guests have to be and so eddie is left pointedly ignoring the box on his end table as he gets himself ready, carla being the angel that she is and helping get chris ready.

when he has nothing else to distract him, he kneels in front of his end table and glares at the box until he realizes he’s being really fucking ridiculous. he should just — give the box back to buck, and ask zero questions — or, congratulate him, because that’s what a good friend would do, right? a good friend who is not in love with him would most definitely give him the ring back and joke about his commitment issues because, ha ha, you sure play fast and loose with the one object meant to represent your eternal love for her, dude!

christ. he’s a child.

he pockets the ring and pretends it’s not burning a hole in his coat pocket the entire hour-long ride to the reception.

it’s here where he runs into a panicked-looking buck in the middle of the reception lobby, tie askew and eyes a wild shade of his usual blue, and eddie has to steady him and take him outside in the cold before he passes out in the middle of all the people lounging around. buck is having trouble breathing, saying something about i lost — i lost—

and eddie can kind of fill in the blanks here, stomach swooping with guilt when he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the one object that’s been killing him slowly all day.

buck blinks at the box for a second. silent. awed. then he looks at eddie and tells him he could kiss him, holy shit, and he takes the box and it’s actually one of those boxes that opens from the middle, which, huh, eddie hadn’t noticed, and when buck opens it (and there’s a moment where eddie considers running away from the sight, he’s not gonna lie) there are—

two wedding bands.

oh.

“holy shit, ed, you just saved my ass,” he tells him, pulling him in for an embrace that does nothing to settle eddie’s super mature yearning. “i thought i’d lost them! i thought maddie was going to have my entire head.”

of course it’s not an engagement ring, of course it’s not. they’re chim and maddie’s wedding bands, and actually, eddie should be a little more concerned at how easily buck had forgotten them at eddie’s, but he’s too busy feeling the relief flow through him like an antidote to the veins, and he realizes right here, right now, that actually, he doesn’t think he could ever handle buck marrying anyone. not taylor, not the next girl, or the next.

buck freezes against him, and eddie realizes a little belatedly he just said that out loud. 

he pulls away immediately and coughs into his hands and starts muttering incoherently about a game he’d seen last night on the tv and how he has to go to the bathroom and he’s, uh, actually gonna go, glad he could be of help, glad he could save buck’s ass—

buck looks at the rings and back at eddie and asks if eddie thought this was for taylor, and eddie makes a noise that sounds like “alilbit”, and buck shakes his head in disbelief and tells eddie he broke up with taylor, like, two weeks ago, and eddie is shocked because what? when? why didn’t he say anything? and buck shrugs and admits he didn’t want the focus to be on whatever he is or isn’t feeling so close to chim and maddie’s wedding and eddie says, right, but, no offense to them, but he comes first to eddie, and he would be wondering that anyway, and buck looks at him for a second and he asks eddie, point blank, “you didn’t want me to marry taylor?”

or anyone, eddie doesn’t correct. he tries to come up with a flimsy excuse — just thought it was too fast, blah blah — but then he looks into buck’s eyes, one of his favorite sights to lose himself in, and he blurts out: “no. no, i didn’t. i think i was gonna ask you not to, actually. because the thought of you marrying anyone who isn’t me fills me with dread and despair, so i also think i was going to confess i’m stupidly in love with you.”

and buck looks indecipherable, for once. eddie is shifting his weight both in a nervous gesture and in an attempt to keep warm because it’s cold, alright, it’s cold for LA and he’s also from texas so he’s not good at handling any kind of cold—

and buck just closes the box in his hands and then waves his hands in the air like he’s trying to get eddie’s attention and eddie’s super confused but then buck’s like what the fuck, eddie, and he starts pacing back and forth ranting about how long he’s been wanting to hear that and how much sleep he’s lost trying to come up with the right way to tell him and eddie just shows up, saves the fucking day, and confesses? just like that? it’s so fucking annoying how easy he made it look, like buck hasn’t been shitting his pants any time the words even try to make it past his lips, and also, also, on maddie’s wedding day? how is he supposed to think about ANYTHING ELSE now? he’s supposed to walk around like he doesn’t know the man he’s been in love with for years loves him back? 

and he keeps going on and on about how actually this is the worst-best thing that’s ever happened to him, but all eddie can hear are the ones where buck confesses to being in love with eddie for years, and it takes them a moment to settle in his veins, push past the insecurities, and reboot his entire body until finally, finally, he interrupts buck in the middle of a sentence (“and then you did that thing that one time with your mouth—”) by pressing his lips against his, and it’s like the cold around them exists no more.

eddie’s never felt warmer.

buck is right, in the end. he seems to find it exceedingly difficult to keep his eyes off eddie during the ceremony, enough so that eddie has to force himself not to blush, and when the vows are said and wedding bands are exchanged and the groom has kissed the bride — when the night gets started and everyone starts mingling and no one spares him a second glance, eddie finds out that coat closets are, in fact, not as soundproof as buck promised him they were, and he also ends up owing denny fifty dollars so he never, ever tells his mom he caught him sucking on buck’s face like a teenager when all the poor kid had wanted was his coat.

(worth it, though.)

[tripleaxeldiaz]

never fallen from quite this high

read on ao3

There’s a knock at the door, but Eddie doesn’t hear it, focused instead on the pinks and oranges of the sunset coming through the window and trying to stop his mind from reeling like it’s been for the past week.

Because a week ago, when he broke up with Ana, she looked him in the eye and said, “I hope he makes you happy,” and he didn’t have to ask who she was talking about.

He knew. And that scared him more than any war zone or tsunami or lungful of mud ever could.

Another knock, one Eddie registers, but he still doesn’t move. Now he’s replaying the last conversation he had with the person on the other side of the door — when Buck had innocently, nonchalantly asked why he had broken up with “his perfect teacher” and his response, without a minute to let himself think, was “because of you”. The room became a vacuum, completely airless as they stared at each other, Buck slack-jawed and Eddie wide-eyed. He could have done a thousand things — explained himself, laughed it off, denied denied denied, anything.

Instead, he ran away, peeling out of the parking lot to put as much distance between Buck and his dumb ass as possible, drowning in the shame he brought on himself.

He should’ve known Buck would follow him anyway.

A third knock, a little louder and more deliberate, and Eddie’s fingers twitch, itching to let Buck in like his heart has been begging for for days — probably years, actually — only to be beaten into submission by his thoughts and reminders that Buck is good and he is not. That no matter how deep his feelings for Buck may be (which, as it turns out, are deep enough to brand themselves on bone), he refuses to taint him, will not spread whatever bad energy even his parents can see, not after watching Buck rebuild himself brick by beautiful brick until he loved himself half as much as Eddie does.

There’s scraping and jingling as the door is unlocked, and Eddie braces himself for whatever conversation is about to unfold. Buck walks into the room, curls loose from his post-shift shower, expression unreadable in a way that Eddie hasn’t seen in a while, not since he’d memorized every tick and twitch Buck makes. The last remaining rays of sunshine light him up as he comes to a stop in front of Eddie, wrapping him in an ethereal glow, soft and almost angelic, even with his arms crossed and his walls clearly up.

It’s a little unfair, Eddie thinks, that Buck looks this gorgeous, this inviting, when he can’t even appreciate it fully.

They stare at each other, a silent game of chicken while they each wait for the other to crack. Eddie won’t break, he can’t, because if Buck walks out of his life right now because he couldn’t keep his feelings in check, he knows there’s no way he’ll be able to put himself back together. Luckily, Buck moves first, sighing through his nose and sitting down on the coffee table across from Eddie.

“So,” he starts, “because of me, huh?”

The bluntness is enough to kickstart Eddie’s self-preservation instincts. “Let’s just forget it, Buck.”

“No, no way.” Buck scoots forward, pressing his knees to Eddie’s, preventing any kind of escape. “I don’t want to forget it or ignore it or pretend it never happened. But I would like an explanation.” 

The words get stuck in Eddie’s throat, undecided on whether they’re going to come out or retreat back in and hide themselves away again. He looks away and Buck follows, staying in his line of vision, looking smaller and sadder as the silence drags out.

He breaks it, finally, along with Eddie’s heart. “Was it something I did?”

Eddie sighs. “No, it’s not—”

“Because I did like her. She made you happy, so of course I liked her—”

“Buck—”

“And I didn’t mean to keep blowing off hanging out with you guys, it’s just— you and me and her— I was worried about it being weird and I know I shouldn’t have been but—”                                               

“Buck.” Eddie grabs his hands where they’re hanging between his legs, tries not to think about how Buck squeezes back even tighter instead of pulling away. “You didn’t do anything.”

“But you said—”

“I know.” He hadn’t even noticed threading their fingers together, but they’re here now and neither of them are moving, so he just squeezes again and takes a deep breath. “Ana was great, and I liked her a lot, but she didn’t...fit.” Because the hole Eddie thought he needed her to fill was already taken up, he just hadn’t let himself realize it. And he liked Ana — she was nice, pretty, safe, the epitome of the girl he should want, but she didn’t set his skin on fire with a brush of her fingers, didn’t flip his heart with an easy smile, didn’t make him ache for her.

She was perfect, but she wasn’t Buck.

“She didn’t fit, but someone else does?” Buck asks, like he hasn’t figured it out already, like Eddie hadn’t made it so blatantly obvious you could see it from space.

He nods anyway, confirming it. For Buck and for himself. “Yeah. You do. You fit.”

Buck’s eyes widen just a little, his face still unreadable but edging towards something like joy, only to crumble again as he searches Eddie’s face. “But that’s...bad? You don’t want me to fit.”

“No, Buck, I—” I need you to fit so bad I can’t breathe. “I want you to be happy.” More than I want myself to be happy. “I just don’t know if I can make you as happy as you deserve to be.”

Buck’s reaction is instant, without hesitation, like he knew what Eddie was going to say and already had an answer. He disentangles their hands and instead of leaving, like Eddie feared, he brings them up to either side of Eddie’s neck, thumbs resting on his jaw and holds him still so he can’t look anywhere but at Buck. 

He doesn’t want to look anywhere else. It should be scary, but it’s not. It’s liberating.

“I don’t know if you know this,” Buck starts, voice low and just for Eddie, keeping secrets from the shadows that have crept into the room, “but I’m an expert at leaving when the going gets tough. Every relationship I’ve ever been in — even Abby — had me fighting some part of myself that wanted to run away as soon as things got a little hard.” He takes a breath and his eyes blaze brighter, full of conviction and absolutely mesmerizing. “I never had to fight myself for you. You and Chris fit for me too, and I am happy, happier than I ever thought I would be, because of you.” 

Eddie swallows, lost in the determined, deep blue that is so uniquely Buck, and feels his walls start to fall apart.

“I’m not gonna be good at this,” he whispers — confesses — in the stillness of dusk.

“Neither will I. We’ll learn together.”

“What if I stop making you happy?”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

Eddie opens his mouth to argue again, to keep up the facade of the fortress he built around himself that he knows Buck has broken through, but something stops him. Some part of him that’s long been buried, something he thought he lost in the sands of Afghanistan, emerges from its hiding place and whispers Take it. Take him. He loves you. Let yourself be loved.

And it’s easier, then, to lean in instead of fight against. His hands frame Buck’s face, mirroring each other, and he hardly has to pull before they’re meeting in the middle. Buck’s lips are perfect, softer than he imagined but still firm and getting everything he wants, and he tastes like mint and sunshine and home. Eddie’s already trying to figure out how he can make sure he kisses Buck like this every day for the rest of his life.

Judging by the enthusiastic reciprocation and small, happy sounds he keeps drinking up, Buck’s on the same page.

They only break apart because they have to breathe, but they don’t go far, foreheads resting together, noses brushing. And as happy as he is, Eddie’s still a little scared — scared that this is all temporary, that it won’t work out, that he’ll lose one of the most important people in his life when he inevitably makes the wrong decision or does the wrong thing.

But then he hears it again, the long forgotten voice, saying He loves you. He won’t let you go and he won’t let you forget. 

The last reservations Eddie has break away, and they fall back in, slotting together like puzzle pieces, drenched in moonlight and peace and hope.

[mamisolohd]

*tiny T3 spoilers* More scripts! Dalexa (Ceci) had some days ago posted the front of the script but there wasn’t a whole lot showing, only “La verdad no…”, turns out it’s ep. 3x01 and the title is “La verad no peca pero incomoda” “The truth doesn’t sin, but it makes you uncomfortable”.

There are some lines that can be seen in the bottom corner although most of them are cut in half. Seems like we’re jumping right into it though and won’t have a longer jump in the timeline. It also looks like it’s going to start off with Juan Carlos’ reaction (🙃). Then revelations and surprises of some sort happen. At the end there is a longer line, I don’t know who’s saying it but I’m guessing there’s a dialogue between maybe JC and someone, where the other person is retelling and maybe asking if they understood JC correctly. What I can tell from the pic it says something like “Let’s see if… Mariana… and [Ana] kissed… [in front of?] of everyone…”.

Then further down it says “Con Laura”, “With Laura” (which YAY we’re getting Laura Villa in the first ep!) and then Ana is saying “Tú misma me lo… vez que te ví”. Maybe she’s saying “Tú misma me lo [dijiste la ultima] vez que te ví”, “You [told] me that yourself [the last] time I saw you”. Interesting… Is Mariana also there? Was Laura aware of this whole thing?

Episode 3x02 is called ”... De Amor” “… of Love”, I can’t see the first word there… Maybe cosita? IdkIdk.

And ep. 3x03 is called “Chocolates”. Super tiny bits of the lines can be seen but nothing major (nothing at all tbh lol). Some think the choco hongos and the first kiss might be brought up finally. They really mentioned it in the 2x01 and then acted like it never happened, so maybe they will bring it up in this ep. I’m also wondering if Ferrán is gonna stay the whole season. If every stack of paper in the video is an episode and there are 4-5 stacks there, he’ll maybe show up in those (of course he could have the other scripts elsewhere but yeah). I remember Ludwika once mentioned in an interview that if they get renewed then they probably would get more episodes too, so I hope there’s more than 8 this time. But it’ll be interesting to see what they’re going to do with his character.