#do I know what I'm doing?

[shrikeclangen]

[hippolotamus]

Sentence Sunday ✨

I can show you lies 'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die I was grinning like I'm winning, I was hitting my marks 'Cause I can do it with a broken heart

Beloved mutuals and pocket pals... I honestly don't know what to say for myself. This is a case of 'I listened to a song too much, I had an idea I knew I was never gonna write' turned 'I'll just throw it out as a prompt' --> 'I'll just make a moodboard' --> 'Oh god, I've written over 1k words in place of a summary'. SO. Have... whatever this is, T Swift influenced Buddie actor au. Under the cut to save your dash.

Honestly, if the world still exists in the morning, Eddie Diaz doesn't really give a fuck. His girlfriend left, claiming he's still not over his late wife, and his teenage son, the last thread connecting him to said wife, went to go live with his grandparents. After, of course, blaming Eddie for pushing 'yet another one' away. Christopher wouldn't even look at him before he went.

Then there's Anita Mills, his agent, who is probably a few blood pressure points away from a stroke at this point. Assuming she doesn't fire him first.

Let her, he thinks, grabbing a bottle of Maker's Mark from the cabinet. He has a string of blockbuster films to his name, not to mention a commendable collection of Oscar's and Emmy's. Not that they made his parents proud or kept his wife from leaving him before she died. But they exist as proof that he's had a successful career. Between investments and liquid assets he has more money than he would know what to do with in a hundred lifetimes. So, fuck it.

Eddie breaks the wax seal and twists off the red cap. He doesn't even bother with a glass, not really seeing a need. He's never been a big drinker, but lately his tolerance has grown considerably. Indulging until he passes out seems like an ideal use of his time right now anyway. If he wakes up after? Well, he'll consider that a success.

------------------

"Hey! What the hell?!" Eddie manages, coughing and trying not to choke on the ice cold water hitting his body. He opens his eyes to see Mills towering over him, glowering and holding an empty vase. He swipes a hand across his face. "Seriously, Anita, what the fuck was that?"

"I don't know, Eddie, you tell me." She disappears for less than a minute, returning with a hand towel she unceremoniously drops on his chest. "Help me out here. What's today?"

He wriggles himself to something resembling sitting and leans back against the coffee table. "What's today?" He parrots back dumbly.

Anita crosses her arms and quirks an eyebrow. "I asked you first."

Today, today, today. Where was he supposed to be- "Shit! The interview with, uh, fuck." He snaps his fingers and racks his brain trying to remember a name or a face. All he knows is they're important.

"Claudette Collins. Very good, Eddie, you got it part way."

"Give me ten minutes, I'll put myself together and we can go," he says, fighting the violent wave of nausea that hits as he scrambles to stand up.

"Save your poor carpet from getting puked on and sit the hell down."

"What? No, I can-"

"Eddie," Anita interjects, "the interview was five hours ago. The interview with the Claudette Collins. The one that took me months of phone calls, groveling and cashing in favors to get for you."

Fuck. "Anita, I'm so sorry. How-"

"Save it." Anita holds her hand up, effectively silencing him. It takes him back to being seven years old and having to explain why his dad's truck had an enormous dent in it. She rests her hands on her hips, pacing back and forth as she purses her lips. Eventually she sits in the leather armchair situated in the corner. "Eddie, you and I have known each other a long time. A long time. I've been your agent since you walked into my shitty office back in Dallas. Given your impressive display of awards, I'd say we've done pretty well together."

She inhales sharply, rubbing at her temple. Anita doesn't mince words, it's part of why he's always liked her. He never has to question where he stands. She says 'jump' and he knows exactly how high. It's not difficult to guess what's coming next.

"Eddie, I know you're going through a rough patch. What you're dealing with is hard enough without seeing it splashed on every tabloid and trashy website. Not to mention none of those places knows the real story, so it's all a bunch of 'she said he might have said' bullshit. But you've made it through tougher things." Anita doesn't need to clarify that she's talking about Shannon's death and how his parents tried to take Christopher. "I don't know what's happening this time, but I need to take a step back. My wife has made it very clear that all of my attempts at stress management are not working and that if I can't get it under control I shouldn't be surprised when I come home to an empty house. So."

Eddie swallows, waiting for the inevitable and cursing himself for pretending he wouldn't care.

"I've talked to a few friends in the business and found someone willing to take you on."

What?

"What? You're not firing me?"

Anita's features soften. "Technically, yes. I am very much dropping you like a scorpion I found in my boots. However, like I said, I found someone willing to work with you. The name is Bobby Nash. He runs a smallish agency but don't let that throw you. He's cobbled together some pretty impressive talent. I assume you've heard of Evan Buckley?"

Eddie scoffs. "Of course I have. Who hasn't? Christ, he's everywhere you look. I can't pass a damn bus stop without seeing his face." A few details begin to click into place within Eddie's muddled brain. "Bobby Nash is his agent?"

"Sure is. And we all know the stories about Evan's past aren't the type you trot out at parties. My advice is that you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, go with Nash and do whatever he tells you to do. He even has a role in mind for you, costarring with Buckley. What do you say?"

What else was there to say? If Eddie didn't want to get blacklisted or wind up as some washed up tragic Hollywood story, being gossiped about where everyone - including his son - could see what a failure he was...

"I guess I say- when can I meet him?"

"Good answer." Anita clasps her hands together and gives him her signature smirk that tells him she approves. "Just leave everything to me."

Up to this point, Eddie has trusted Anita implicitly with all the messy business that comes with having him for a client. Why stop now?

tagged by @loveyouanyway @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @tizniz

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @epicbuddieficrecs @a-noble-dragon @mountedeverest @fortheloveofbuddie

@weewootruck @saybiwithme @bidisasterevankinard @shipperqueen6 @ramonaflow

@taketheplanspinitsideways @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz

@daffi-990 @diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend

@thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @underwaterninja13 @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss

@steadfastsaturnsrings @inell @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes

@shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress

@bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @ladydorian05

@lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @the-likesofus

@thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘

[phantom-of-the-501st]

The Cost of War - Chapter 1

So when I said like, 4 days ago that I didn't know if this thing would ever see the light of day? Weeeellll turns out it would. In less than a week. 😅

No content warnings for this chapter but there will be some as it goes on

Hunter this whole chapter is so tired this whole chapter. Someone give this man a break. Mainly because the Tech and Crosshair vibes are just

Also Wrecker's the sweetest and I love him

Tag list below

@inkstainedhandswithrings @saturn-sends-hugs @the-bi-space-ace @floundrickthewayfarer

[gumnut-logic]

Óen (Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Thunderbirds Are Go and HTTYD crossover.

Here is the next bit. sorry we haven't gotten to the meat of this fic yet, but we are nearly there :D

Again, thank you to @onereyofstarlight and @idontknowreallywhy for all their support on this project ::hugs them both tight::

Have a little foot :D

-o-o-o-

“Hey, are you awake?”

The voice was a young one.

“Máthair, he’s waking up!”

There was a scuttle of feet beside him and Hiccup pushed his eyes open just in time to see a young boy grabbing an elderly woman and dragging her towards Hiccup.

Wha-?

The room was dark, but warm. A central fire snaked smoke out through a chimney in the roof and oil lamps decorated the walls, bathing the large room in yellow light. Beyond the old woman and the boy, there were beds laid out like the spokes on a wagon wheel around the central fire. Some had people in them.

Hiccup was in one of them.

“So you’ve decided to wake up, young man.”

Hiccup blinked up at her. “Where am I?”

“O’Treasaigh Isle, some would call it. You can call it a safe place.”

It took him a moment. “Toothless!” He sat up, ready to jump out of bed…

If only the lamps would stop spinning.

A small hand landed on his shoulder. “Now let that be a lesson to you. You can’t expect your body to appreciate what you’ve done to it. Give it some time to heal.”

“But Toothless-“

“You need not worry about your dragon. Virgil is giving him the care he needs.” She tilted her head just a little. “Though I do find it interesting that I know the name of your dragon and not you.”

His brain must be slow. “You ride dragons!”

“Interesting name, I must say.”

“No. No, no, my name is Hiccup.” He drew in a breath. “It’s true? You care for dragons.”

“A young Viking, then. You are far from home.” She began touching him. A finger on his wrist, his throat. She peered into both of his eyes, opened his mouth and stared down his throat. “You were as exhausted as your dragon. But I’m happy that the elements haven’t taken too much from you. Drink up and you will be well soon.” She pointed at a wooden cup on a table beside the bed.

“What is it?”

“Health. Drink it.” She reached over and handed it to him.

The young boy beside her screwed up his face.

Not particularly encouraging.

He sipped the drink, cautiously.

By Thor, it was worse than Astrid’s yak nog.

The woman’s blue eyes stared at him unblinking until he was able to force that sip down his throat.

His stomach immediately started a rebellion.

“I know it doesn’t taste the best, dear, but it will help.”

Make death look more promising maybe.

“Uh, thank you.”

“Your getting well will be my thanks.”

“When can I see Toothless?” As if they could stop him.

“Once you drink all of that, Alan here can take you to Virgil.”

What’s left of him maybe. He looked down at the brown muck in the cup and started building strategies to hide its demise.

Máthair stood up. “Alan will stay with you. Let him know if you feel ill and he will alert me.” She smiled. “Be well, Hiccup. While I go and chase your saviour and get him off that leg. Take note, young one, treat your body with respect and it will treat you well. Don’t work it to death like an idiot.”

She gathered her skirts and hurried off, muttering to herself.

Someone was in trouble.

Hiccup was glad it wasn’t him.

“Are you really a Viking?”

He turned to…Alan? The boy seemed just a little younger than Hiccup himself. Blue eyes were definitely a thing here, though.

“Yes, from Berk.”

“Wow. Never heard of it. How did you get a night fury?”

“Uh…”

“Scott has taken me up on Óen. He’s soooo fast. Do you think yours is as fast as Óen? It would be interesting to find out. They could have a race!”

“Uh…”

“Once he gets better, of course.”

“Toothless? How is he? Where is he?” Hiccup dumped the cup of gross on the side table and dragged his legs off the bed and onto the floor.

“Um, Máthair Chriona said you needed to drink that.”

“I need to see Toothless.”

Alan sighed. “Listen, I know it tastes like foot, but honestly? Máthair is a very good healer. She trained at the Temple. You need this. Drink it and we can go to your dragon.”

Hiccup eyed him. Young and eager, but there was something in the boy’s eyes that spoke of experience.

There was no naivety there.

Hiccup picked up the cup. Goethi had given him concoctions in the past. Especially after losing his leg. All sorts of foul smelling and gross things.

But this one?

He straightened his shoulders. He was a Viking with Thor at his back.

He sculled the drink.

His eyes crossed several times and his stomach lit on fire, but he got it down. There were several moments where it threatened to revisit all over the blanket covering his legs, but…

He sagged just a little as the tension left his shoulders and a wave of wellbeing washed over him.

By the time he put the empty cup back on the side table, he felt so much better.

“See?”

“What is that?”

“Good stuff. Total secret, of course. Máthair keeps the lore. I just wish we could mix it with something to hide the foot.”

Hiccup pushed himself to his feet and was happy to find the world not spinning and nothing aching more than it should. “Can you take me to Toothless?”

“Sure. Follow me.”

-o-o-o-

Next

[fuzzysocksstuff]

[sunshinebingo]

Even Lovers Drown -

Chapter 8

Synopsis: Sirens are known to be merciless creatures who lure their prey with their ethereal voices.

But what happens when Gwyneth, a half Fae half siren, meets someone who is immune to her song? Maybe she doesn't need it for him to want her.

Read on Ao3

Snippet:

The shadows sighed in contentment as they lazily floated between them. Azriel did know if he had ever heard them do that for anything or anyone but her. They understood as much as him how different this situation was from everything he had ever experienced before. The only times he had ever been this close to a female had either been as a deception for his work or for sex. Yet even with the latter, it had never been like this. More than that, nothing had ever made him feel like this. He wondered for a second if he was still asleep.

Tag list (let me of you want to be added/removed): @shadowsxgwynriel @iambutmortal @trashforazriel @hlizr50 @headcanonheadcase @hiimheresworld @freyjas-musings @starfall-spirit @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @sv0430

[unrealistic-ideas-for-writers]

Why are these my most used tags:

[ghostfartooo]

[lgbtlunaverse]

The world exists in such a baffling state of simultaneous sex-aversion and sex-hegemony. Every social platform on the internet is trying to banish sex workers to the shadow realm but I can't post a tweet without at least two bots replying P U S S Y I N B I O. People are self-censoring sex to seggs and $3× but every other ad you see is still filled with half-naked women. Rightwingers want queer people arrested for so much as existing in the same postal code as a child and are also drumming up a moral panic about how teenage boys aren't getting laid enough. I feel like I'm losing my mind.

[pangur-and-grim]

one thing that took me embarrassingly long to learn is "sometimes when people say things, they will not be true."

I used to tell people about this revelation and they'd be like yeah.....duh.....but like, why wouldn't my base assumption be that you're communicating to me in a straightforward manner. anyway, I get scammed a lot.

[elvyn]

Stuck in the past

Jumping back into One Piece for a while, I wanted to draw something more halloween themed?

[extrashortshorts]

Hehe, cow

[medli20]

Garfield Meshi

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hey now, Let her cook!

[inkskinned]

okay is she being actually immature or is it just a woman over 30 expressing a human experience you find to be immature.

like yeah. at certain ages... let shit go. im not defending the real immature shit. im not defending the karen you're picturing. i worked in retail i hate those people too. (once somebody got mad at me because she didn't like how our winter window decor was a snowman smoking a pipe. i wish i was joking).

but men at 57 will write books about how 17 year old girls are soooo sexy. they will invent worlds where women have to be naked for "armor reasons." they will write songs that treat women as objects. people rush to defend them. meanwhile a woman at 35 will be like "heartbreak is hard, actually" or "i feel betrayed by a friend" or "i am struggling with something emotionally." immediately people will say stuff like this woman is 35 by the way. by the way this woman is SO OLD to be experiencing this. BY THE WAY.

im 31, almost 32. the other day a poet was blasted online because at her "big age", she had written a poem about feeling unloved. top comment was "this woman is 29 by the way." this woman is too old to still be useful, by the way. she has to behave better . maybe if she was a good wife and mother she could stop existing loudly, and the story could continue on without her. this woman has served her purpose, by the way. she's so cringe, by the way. at 29 - so old! - she still hasn't figured out that her existence should be one of shame.