#fuck i need to finish that fic

[crimsonicarus]

Help! I'm having fic thoughts about Logan as the Jenson/Nico lovechild but I can't write for my life this days, HELP the thoughts are for my Greek myth AU but I'm supposed to write the lestappen fic next for timeline purposes H E L P

[bababaka]

Yall need to interact with fanfiction author's more.

So. After the ddos attack on ao3.

I was encouraged to write more comments and make my love known to fanfic writers.

I dont really like commenting. Because im a bit shy and soooo lazy.

Now though. I am writing more comments. And dude. This is so heartwarming. Ya'll need to treat writers better. They are doing the lord's work.

Take for an example, couple of days prior, i was searching for something interesting to read, and found an oneshot quite compelling.

I read it. At the end of it, i was blown away by how good it was. It promised me something and it went beyond my expectations. But then i saw a crime, zero fucking comments!

At that moment, i wasn't feeling up to writing a comment. Because, normally i like to write huge paragraphs. But because im lazy i decided to be brief.

Next day, the author answered that the comment lift their mood for the whole day.

That warmed my heart.

Duuuuuuuude! Write comments! Suport the writers of the fics you like! No need to be something super elaborate. Just give your thoughts. Freak out. Ramble. Ask something. Make theories. Compliment. Make a joke about how you wished to give kudos every chapter but ao3 sucks(not true bby) and won't let you.

Truly. Just. Comment. It can make someone's day. And that is part of the apeal of writing fics. Interacting with people.

Just give love to fanfic writers yall. They deserve this and so much more.

[benevolenterrancy]

Mobei-Jun getting abandoned in the human realm by his favourite uncle and being left alone and terrified?? baby???? gonna lie awake thinking about him and Shang Qinghua meeting as children

[lokh]

ok but what if....... hair swap in modern au

[dehydrated-turtle]

Champagne and Marble

//warnings// +16, mdni

//contents// Bruce wayne x transmasc!reader, vaginal sex, squirting, semi public ig??

//synopsis// Bruce had not seen his husband in too long, his lewd thoughts lingered around in his head during one of the Wayne galas and he couldn't contain himself when he saw you. based off this ask from @blueberrymori <3 - wc: 1.9k

//on ao3//

The infamous Wayne gala charity event where Gotham’s elite have an excuse to flaunt their riches and pretend to be good people by donating to a cause they couldn’t care less about. Bruce only hosts these things to continue on a tradition that is older than himself and to please his conscience which always tells him to continue on his parents’ legacy. Normally, Bruce is better at these things, faking smiles and pretending to have rousing conversation with his guests and the press. This night was different however, his answers were short and pithy and he didn’t start a single conversation because his mind was elsewhere. On you. He had not seen his husband in so long, being away on “business” for weeks and not being able to touch you drove him up the wall. He wondered the first hour of the party where you were, looking among the crowds for you and soon giving up, assuming you hadn’t gotten there yet. This was his first chance to see you since before he left and he was going to make the most of it. 

He let his mind wander as he sipped his champagne, thinking about what he could do to you once the guests had left. He thought about how you would look underneath him, his tie in your mouth muffling the sounds of your moans, his hand around your neck, keeping you down as he slammed into you. His lewd thoughts were rudely interrupted by a twitching feeling in his restricting dress pants. He looked around to see if anyone had noticed then frantically walked away. On his way, he saw you standing on the grandiose stairs, talking with another socialite, smiling and laughing gently. His mind started to wander again once he noticed how you looked in your suit, the jacket hugging your arms and laying flat on your chest, the dress pants laying gently along the skin of your thighs. He saw that you were gleaming as always and he couldn’t help but smile. Bruce sauntered his way toward you and this nondescript socialite and butted into the conversation. 

“I’m so sorry but I am afraid I’m going to have to steal him from you, Mrs. Henning,” he said, voice smooth as velvet and placing his hand on the small of your back, “Honey, would you help me find some more glasses in the back?” 

“Of course, my love. My apologies, Mrs. Henning.” you apologized and walked through the crowd with your husband. “What a lame excuse, you must be desperate.” 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, darling, of course I’m desperate.” he remarked, looking at you with a certain glint in his eye. You entered the kitchen as promised but instead of looking for glasses, “ALRIGHT EVERYONE OUT, CLEAR OUT I NEED THE KITCHEN CLEAR, YOU ALL CAN GO JOIN THE PARTY IF YOU WANT YOU JUST CAN’T BE HERE. THANK YOU.” 

He held you close as he waited for the last of the cooks and wait staff to leave before pushing you against one of the cold marble countertops with a heated kiss. He lifted you from the back of your thighs so you were seated on the counter, legs wrapped around Bruce’s waist, pulling his hips closer so you could feel his throbbing cock against your swollen clit. He started to grind into you, pulling you as close to the edge as possible without falling off. His hands trailed up and down your back, stopping only to take off your tux jacket and throw it somewhere in the kitchen. He broke the kiss with a soft moan to hastily undo your shirt buttons. His speed and agility at undoing your buttons turned you on just a little bit more, but it was the eye contact that made it even better. You moved your focus to the front of your shirt, looking at Bruce’s fingers work your buttons but before you could, one of his hands moved up to your chin and lifted it so you were looking back at him. 

“Ah-ah, look at me… good boy.” You could feel your cheeks go red as the words processed in your head and you looked directly into his piercingly blue eyes and adoringly dilated pupils. He untucked the rest of your shirt and pulled it back over your shoulders, exposing your chest. Bruce’s hands traveled up your back before bowing his head to the crook of your neck, pressing his lips against your newly cold skin. You held the back of his head and let out a breathy moan into his ear as you felt his tongue graze your collarbone. His lips left wet and sloppy kisses along your chest and down your sternum, trailing all the way down to where your waistband lay against your skin. He looked back up at you before breaking a sly smile and working on undoing your fly. 

“Lift.” He less than asked, instructing you to lift your hips off the counter so he could slip your pants under them, which is exactly what you did and exactly what happened. He slipped your boxers along with your pants so when your ass hit the marble, you flinched, not thinking it would be that cold and let a gasp escape your lips. 

“Shh shh, It’s ok…” there was an obvious and titillating contrast between the chill of the counter top and the welcoming warmth of Bruce’s hands, drawing pretty patterns along your neck and jawline. 

You just now realized that you were stark naked on a countertop in a kitchen where anyone could enter from the bustling party going on just a single door away. You glanced quickly at said door with some slight concern on your face until you realized that your clit was throbbing at the thought. Bruce saw where you were looking and reassured you that ‘no one would think to come in here’ and ‘all the cooks left’ with soft whispers against your skin. 

His lips trailed along your skin, moving ever downwards and looking up at you occasionally with those piercing blue eyes. His hands settled on the inside of your thighs, keeping them open as he admired your dripping cunt for a couple of moments before resting his head on your thigh with a soft moan. Your fingers interlaced themselves in his hair, scratching his scalp gently as he closed his eyes briefly. Once he lifted his head back up, he left some peppered kisses along your inner thigh before softly placing a kiss on your clit making your breath hitch. The very minimal contact was driving you up the wall. His tongue licked a sling stripe through your folds and to your clit, taking none of the salty taste for granted before pushing his tongue into your hole. Reaching all the right spots, you let out a loud moan and pulled at his raven hair. He lapped quickly and vigorously, moaning into your cunt, the vibrations sending a shiver throughout your whole body. 

His hands kneaded the flesh of your ass and your thighs, making you feel somehow calmer and more aroused at the same time. His three day old stubble scratched gently on your skin as he buried his face into you, smacking his lips and sucking your clit. Two of his fingers found their way to your cunt, slowly pushing in and curling up into you, ensuring maximum pleasure. As his fingers grazed the walls of your pussy continuously, you felt a familiar sort of pressure build up in your lower abdomen. You could barely get out a coherent sentence but you said enough blabbering gibberish that Bruce understood what you were getting at. He sped up the pace with his fingers while still being diligent and skillful, trying to tip you over the edge. You let go with a high whimper, spraying rivers of clear liquid onto Bruce’s face and clothed chest, some dripping down his chin, some falling into his mouth. He lapped up the remains of your orgasm from your pussy before standing back up and gripping your jaw then pulling you in for a heated kiss. You could taste the salty remains of your juices on his lips as he kissed you sloppily. 

“You always taste so fucking good.” he whispered against your lips, still groping your thighs and holding you close. 

Your own hands started to meddle with his fly, unzipping it and pulling down his pants and taking his briefs with them so they rested just under his ass. His red, throbbing, and hard cock sprang free with a slap against his abs leaving a string of precum connecting the two. You ran your thumb over the tip, sliding the slick around a little bit, earning a low moan from the large man. With one hand gripping the fabric of his shirt and the other on his cock, you pulled him closer to you, sliding his tip along your slick. He got the hint and slid gently into your cunt, making sure you were comfortable before starting to thrust. The girth of his cock definitely made a stretch in your pussy but it was nothing if not pleasurable, the tingling sensation put a layer of added lust to it. You felt his cock reach your cervix as his hips met yours repeatedly, a perfect fit. 

The once bustling kitchen was now only filled with the sounds of skin slapping and gentle moans along with the faint sound of the party still going on outside, sans host. Every time his balls smacked against your ass, you could feel yourself coming closer and closer to another orgasm, still sensitive from the last one. Bruce’s pelvic bone hit your clit repeatedly as his hands wandered along your back, gripping whatever flesh he could and moaning into your ear, his hot breath tingling against your skin and whispering sweet nothings with his low gravelly voice. 

“Mm, my husband, so good for me… taking all of this, all of me. Such a good boy.” You clenched around his words, getting somehow more wet, gripping and clawing at his back. “Getting close, honey?” your head lolled back and your eyes rolled, he took that as an answer, “Cum on my cock, baby boy… Hm, just like that.” His hips thrusting faster, brows furrowed and about to cum as well. 

Your climax came with no surprise but an unexpected intensity, your moans became loud and shaky as you tipped over the edge and your juices trickled down Bruce’s cock and soon after, his thighs. He kept fucking into you as he was so close, balls slapping against the wet skin and cock still pushing into all the right spots. His cock twitched before the hot cum poured into you in long white streams ebbing and flowing along your walls, filling you up proficiently. Your head rested on his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and kissing it ever so gently as he slowly gave a couple more thrusts before pulling out and watching his cum drip out of your folds. The thought of his cum sitting in your boxers for the rest of this party flooded his mind, so he grabbed your pants and slid them back on to your legs. 

“All that cum just sitting in there, no one will know but us, darling.” he remarked as he buttoned your shirt back up, “It might keep you lubed for later tonight too.” 

Just the thought of it got you wet again and eager for what he had in store for after the party.

[earthlyruins]

"zoro would've killed sanji if he saw what he did during wci" i think you people genuinely failed your 9th grade english class. there is a difference between being righteously angry/furious at someone's actions—someone who you respect and silently consider a friend—without knowing the whole story versus actually killing that person due to a mistake. no one is doubting zoro's strength or loyalty to luffy but the mischaracterization is wild here. not only would zoro not kill sanji in wci (he hesitated even agreeing when sanji ASKED HIM TO in wano & don't even get me started on the entirety that is thriller bark), but luffy wouldn't give the fucking order either because he has never viewed the sacrifice of another's life as an option.

yes zoro would've been pissed !! but did you all seriously not see arlong park or enies lobby. it's been stated a hundred times or more that sanji sacrifices himself because he values others over his own life—and the straw hats Know This. it's a key reason as to why robin is so pleased when sanji asks for her help in wano because he's learning to lean on people just like she did. they've sailed together for years. they've considered each other family for Years. they care about one another and that is the truth for zoro and sanji as well as literally any other straw hat. sanji did what he thought was right in the moment, and though he was wrong, i think considering everything we know about him—everything the crew knows about him, zoro included—they would understand.

[slime-sandwhich-nom]

The omission fic fanart because I doubt it'll ever get updated and I'm sad about it

[thatbuddie]

los angeles wasn't built in a day

buck/eddie | rated m | chapter 1/5 | 10k (this chapter) | getting together, fake dating (in a sense)

“We’re not going to pretend to be divorced just so Chris can get into a summer camp, Buck,” Eddie says, trying to sound convincing even as he starts to feel his resolution crumbling inside of him. “Why not?” Buck asks, sounding genuinely baffled, like he can’t understand Eddie’s refusal at all. And how does Eddie begin to explain the irrationality of his rational denial? He can’t tell Buck the real reason he can’t go through with it. He can’t tell him without having to reach into his chest, clawing out his heart, setting it down at Buck’s feet still beating, and saying, “Because the only thing worse than loving you knowing I can’t have you would be having to pretend like I didn’t love you enough to keep you with me forever.” (or the fake ex husbands to fake husbands to husbands fic.)

(read on ao3)

[indigonite]

currently going for ep 194 of magnus archives

I’m not ready for what awaits me am I

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

my danganronpa whump fic is one year old as of today

[eveningrainstorm]

People often talk about Rio Ranger as if he's the doll version of Sei but what I find super fascinating is that he isn't, not in the same way Fake Reko or the Dummies are replications of their human counterparts.

Ranger resembles Sei on a surface level — same physical appearance, just an unclear amount older; same way of speaking. But he is unmistakably different. Ranger is an incomplete being, missing his positive emotions, but even the true Ranger is Rio Laizer rather than Sei, because there's still something different.

Rio Ranger is, fundamentally, inhuman and yet desperate to be human. He was created to be jealous of humanity and despite his hatred for them, humanity is what he is always striving for. But it is something that he doesn't possess, and is forced to steal instead. He takes clothes from the dead and uses drawings on cards to feign emotion; he is the Dress-Up Doll, Rearranger, not possessor of anything of his own.

While the other dolls based on humans in the game have identity issues based on their personhood being defined by someone else, being merely a copy of another person, Ranger is not even allowed Sei's identity to base himself on — it's very likely he doesn't even know who Sei was. He does not have Sei's clothes — nondescript and tied to Asunaro as they are — and he does not have the capacity for expressing emotion that Sei had.

When comparing Ranger and Sei in terms of personality, differences are obvious. There are similarities, naturally — besides the abrasive way of speaking, there's the jealousy and desire for validation. But in Ranger, these are present to an extreme — they're all he has. (And, ironically, this is what Gashu claims to believe makes him so human, even when Ranger's inhumanity comes through most clearly in this lack of anything else.)

In Sei, on the other hand, these traits are tempered by logic, to put things in YTTD's beloved logic vs. emotion dichotomy. Despite his outwardly emotional nature, from what we see of him he appears realistic and focused on survival in a way that Kai isn't. He's aggressive and overly casual about killing people, but he doesn't express the glee at violence that Ranger does, only a fierce desire to prove himself and survive. Sei is jealous of Kai and desires Gashu's affection, but also has an understanding of the situation he's in that both Kai and Ranger lack — he can tell that Gashu doesn't care about him as much as he does Kai, and recognizes that the way Gashu treats both of them is wrong. Ranger believes Gashu truly loves him, a fact proven blatantly false by his eventual demise at Gashu's hands. Ironically, this blindness is more similar to Kai as we see him in his minisode, rather than Sei.

Of course, this understanding isn't simply a part of Sei's basic nature, but rather the fact that unlike Kai and Ranger, he has past experience to go on. Sei wasn't born into the Satou family — though his exact origins are unclear, based on his grief for his birth father and how he talks about Asunaro ("all this shady organization crap"), it's possible he wasn't even born into Asunaro at all. Before being sent to Gashu, he had his own father, one who we don't know anything about but whom he apparently loved. He doesn't accept Gashu's treatment of him and Kai the way Kai does because he has known a different father and a different way of life. This doesn't free him from Asunaro's influence — he still accepts the role of assassin they give him and resigns himself to becoming a killer. What choice does he have, after all? But he carries no illusions about Asunaro or his role in it. He knows that the training is cruel, that he is viewed only as a tool, that Asunaro is wrong even if they are also not worth resisting.

This is a major part of why Ranger isn't Sei, why he cannot be; because Asunaro is all Ranger knows. They are his creators, who he was literally built to serve. In Ranger's mind, he is not only Gashu's son and heir, but his creation, his masterpiece. And of course he wouldn't have been created with Sei's memories — why take that risk? Why give him any sort of knowledge of a life outside Asunaro or reason to be disloyal to them?

Ranger is not Sei — so why model Ranger after him? Because Ranger is the idea of Sei, what Sei was meant to be: a counterpart to Kai, a rival, a second choice. Gashu preferred Kai, once; Kai won out over Sei. But Kai has proven himself a failure and betrayed Asunaro, leaving Gashu with no choice but turn once more to Kai's long-dead competition. Ranger is, like Sei, the opposite of Kai, temperamental and vulgar while Kai is stoic and polite, and perhaps more importantly, capable of murder while Kai steadfastly is not.

And yet Ranger isn't Sei. Sei was jealous of those — specifically Kai — he saw as superior or at least as being treated as such; Ranger is this idea taken to its natural conclusion. Sei had lost everything he had outside of Asunaro; Ranger never had anything else to begin with. Sei was a human; Ranger will never be, doomed to forever long otherwise. Ranger is Sei only in the ways Sei was useful — desperate for recognition, willing to kill, a perfect rival to Kai — but something entirely different, an inhuman machine, in all the ways Sei was a liability.

Sei was human, and he knew that he deserved to have that fact respected. Ranger isn't human and gets only the wanting, desperate to be as good as a human even humanity itself is unattainable. Of course, it isn't being a doll that is actually Ranger's problem — it's Asunaro, who view humans and dolls alike as disposable. Sei's humanity didn't make him any less of a tool as far as Asunaro was concerned, it only made him more difficult to control. All Sei wanted was to be seen as an equal to Kai, a person worthy of respect — and this is what he gets, in the end: his face and voice used as a base for one of Asunaro's weapons, while his true identity and personhood remains forgotten.

Ranger has nothing to hold him back from doing his duty for Asunaro, nor does he have anything to hold onto outside of it. In that sense, Ranger is an ideal asset for Asunaro — at least until the very jealousy and hatred Gashu programmed into him goes too far, and he is, once again, deemed a failure. Ironically, Gashu shoots Ranger for attempting to kill a participant, when willingness to kill was perhaps the one true advantage Sei had over Kai.

In the end, Ranger is offered no more humanity in his death than Sei is — they are both merely pawns of Asunaro, set to die at its whims. But while Sei dies in the arms of his brother, receiving one final act of kindness as Kai refuses to kill him, Ranger has no one in either of his deaths but his creators: in his death as Rio Laizer the dubious kindness of Tia Safalin, making his final moments full of agonizing guilt, and of course in his first death, as Rio Ranger, nothing but Gashu's coldness, the bullet in his head a sort of culmination to the favoritism Sei found weighed against him, and a demonstration of just how far Gashu has come from the father who once genuinely cared for Sei. Sei was human, Ranger was not, but as far as Asunaro is concerned, they are exactly the same: tools, easily thrown away as soon as they stop being useful.

[farceargon]

"He was alight with eyes, replete with arms that continued to tear from the ground and his own body, and stained with fluorescent blood and pus that poured down him in glowing rivulets. Insectoid legs, patterned like ribs, curled against his chest and ripped into an obvious, drooling seam that cut through the center of his body."

"His face was fuller and less skeletal, domed and long and divided into sections by snapping jaws that flared out like a star, each deformed by massive teeth that grew like ram’s horns from his mouth. A mane of tentacles whipped violently around his head and slithered down his back, excess arms and quills forming a halo behind him that traced a crown of spiraling blue-green fire."

-

Benrey's true form from @kogo-dogo 's fic, Human Resources Violation. Hey actual banger.

I REALLY LIKE THIS FIC. If you like HLVRAI you NEEEEEED to read it so bad. I stayed up all night making this and regret nothing. I cannot believe the fic ended with one of my most beloved things in existence (eldritch kaiju battle).

-

Without dramatic lighting below the cut.

[ragnarokhound]

kon and jason form a bond over the fact that both of them have a crush on tim and tim is oblivious about it. they still hate each other, obviously, but it's nice to get drunk with someone who understands, you know? except after nearly half a year of occasionally getting drunk and bitching about tim, they hook up. and then they keep on hooking up. but really they both want tim! which is about when tim walks in on them.

anon. anon i am taking you by the shoulders. this is beautiful to me. do you get how much I love the 'i love him not you, but he's not here and besides, you're the only other bitch around who i'd trust him with /derogatory' and how good that is for jaykon(tim)??? dO YOU??? (the mutual mutual pining. the pact between two people who both know who they're actually in love with. the potential for a True love triangle to form. slow burn in one direction, enemies to friends to lovers in another. i'm feral over this)

The first time it happened, it was completely by accident.

Neither of them could really be held accountable, so neither of them could really blame each other. No matter how much Jason would like to blame the superclone for literally everything that transpired, always and forever, it can’t be helped. There’s no one at fault but good old Jack Daniels. Jason hadn’t even known supers could get drunk, but maybe that’s Kon’s human half at work. Or maybe he laces it with kryptonite dust or neurotoxin or whatever. Jason doesn’t really give a fuck how Kon gets his kicks. He just knows that the two of them are the only motherfuckers who get it— and while that doesn’t make them friends by any means, it definitely makes them de facto drinking buddies. They are united by one thing, and one thing only: a horrific, embarrassing, deeply acute, and likely terminal attraction to one Timothy Jackson Drake. Yeah. They know. One unlikely team up on a mission gone wrong was all it took for Jason and Kon to reach an understanding.

From Tim’s disappointed scowling every time they bickered to the easy way he trusted both of them to manhandle him in the name of the greater good, soon enough, Jason had gone from glaring daggers in the superclone’s direction to trading pained, commiserating looks every time Tim twisted himself into a pretzel right in front of them. Which he did surprisingly often. Jason would call it suspiciously often if Tim weren’t the most oblivious, rizzless dumbass on the planet. He only has game when he isn’t trying. Unfortunately for both Jason and Kon, he definitely is not trying. By the end of that week, Kon had gone from threatening to throw Jason into space to wordlessly offering sad fist bumps every time Tim missed yet another thinly veiled come on. From either of them. (Tim thought they were finally bonding over bad jokes and kept laughing and booing in their faces.) Clown to clown communication at its finest. After the week was up and they were all set to go their separate ways, Jason shot his shot one last time, inviting Tim (and Kon by proxy) out for drinks. Tim politely declined, citing all the paperwork he’d need to fill out for the Titans that Jason had been fully intending to sidestep anyway— like fuck he’s ever touching another incident report in his life— but to Jason’s surprise, Kon took him up on it. The two of them had hit the bar, and by the third round of drinks they were both swapping Tim-stories and finally clearing the air about the finer details of that ass. The rest is unlikely history. Don’t get Jason wrong, they still hate each other’s guts. It changes from bitch-sesh to bitch-sesh, but by the end of the night Kon will have threatened something like snapping Jason’s fingers or lasering his face off, and Jason will have responded with something like an eye roll and asking him if he’d like a hunk of kryptonite to choke on. Only, the first time it happened, too many glasses of whiskey and one meandering walk from the bar to Jason’s closest safehouse later, Kon’s eyes had shuttered, dark and blue and nothing like the eyes either of them actually wanted, and said, “No, but I think I’d like to choke you on my dick. You game?” And, well. What was Jason supposed to do, but grin knife-sharp and mean and say— “I’d love to see you try.”

[corviiids]

based on how i approach plotting ive come to the conclusion that even if i were morally and logically okay with becoming kira i would get the death note and think "okay, im going to make sure i come up with the perfect plan so i can't get caught", spend several months on it, refuse to execute it because it's not foolproof yet, and simply never get around to it. if ethics and reason didn't stop me from becoming kira then sheer procrastination would do the trick

[unlikelypandahologram]

me wide awake at 3am and running on fumes: MegOP AU...Hades and Persephone...OP is Persephone and Megatron is Hades perhaps...haha just kidding...UNLESS?????

(no but seriously the thought started off as like, a crack fic idea but the more I think about it the more it weirdly makes sense?? like, Orion Pax = Kore and Optimus Prime = Persephone, and there's already a whole life and death thing going on with how often OP dies and comes back to life lmao. so that kind of suits him actually

and Megatron is Hades because...come the fuck on do I even need to say why lol. man spreads death everywhere he goes. and Alpha Trion can be both Zeus and Demeter for Orion. or he's basically Zeus but not horny, either works)

[shannondiazs]

actually no i can't be normal and stop thinking about this post and this post and hurting my own feelings because like

here's eddie diaz who's not very good at making friends he doesn't work with and who's so repressed even the pope thinks it's a tad bit much and he's meeting this older firefighter pilot who's so fucking cool and he's got so much in common with and he actually wants to be friends with him. and eddie's never had a friend he can actually talk sports and martial arts with, someone who actually understands the trauma of being in the army, and maybe tommy also comes from a family like his that's not without love and it wasn't exactly bad but his parents never truly understood him or supported him in anything. maybe tommy is also an older brother who had to take the mantle of "man of the house" because his dad was too detached from it, had to take too many responsibilities at an early age.

and eddie just connects with this dude in a way that he's never connected with anyone besides buck and even then, there's things buck can't never understand but tommy does. so he starts hanging out with this guy, starts texting him and talking with him basically anytime he's not on call or with his son

and one day he brings up this fight he's excited for and asks tommy if he'd want to watch it with him and tommy's like "actually, i've got a mate who got me two ringside tickets for it and i've been looking for someone to go with, you'd be interested?" and eddie is over the moon about it. he's nearly giggling and kicking his feet up as he calls carla to ask if she can look after chris overnight because he's going to fucking vegas with a friend. when he arrives at harbour to get on the chopper tommy is flying them to vegas in he's just a bit disappointed to see buck is there too but it's also great because buck is his best friend and he loves him and he's the only person who ever made eddie feel this way once upon a time (and he's trying so hard not to think too much about that) so it's great they're friends too but actually, no, buck's not coming and eddie feels only a little bit bad that he's relieved about it.

so they go to the fight and it's fucking great and tommy gets into it just as much as eddie is. after the fight they go out for drinks with tommy's promoter friend and they get a little drunk and in that drunken haze he lets himself think about the things he usually tries to keep at bay. he thinks about how cool and impressive tommy is but also about how fucking hot he is, he's 300lb of muscle and the strength he's got, how easily he'd manhandled eddie when they were practicing muay thai the other day, how when he looked on top of eddie when he pinned him to the floor and how eddie had wanted to taste the sweat on his muscles, lick the vein in his neck, get those hands that were holding him touching way below. but he gets a hold of himself and when they get to their hotel room with the two queen size beds he makes himself stop thinking about they way he wants to touch him everywhere, find out if he can make him make some of the noises from their sparring session in a different context. tries not to think about how his cock would feel on his hand, how tommy would look as he came.

so anyway, they get back to LA the next morning and eddie tries his best to pretend he never thought any of that and then the basketball game from hell happens and tommy tells him he's gonna talk to buck, try and make peace and eddie doesn't think twice about it, they're both his friends and they would get along well. when he sees them hanging out at the restaurant he pretends that what he feels at the pit of his stomach isn't jealousy, and later that week he only wonders a little bit if marisol being a nun before truly is the only reason why he can't have sex with her anymore, if the fact that sometimes when he sinks into her deep in his brain in a corner he never goes to he thinks about a different person, one with broader shoulders and strong pecs instead of breasts isn't part of it too.

and then he's in buck's kitchen and buck's telling him "it was a date" and when eddie asks "wait, tommy's gay?" it has nothing to do with buck and all to do with him knowing in an instant that if he'd known that back in vegas he might have risked it, might have followed his deepest desires and touch tommy like he wanted to. but now his best friend is talking about him with that doe eyed look in his eyes and eddie knows that means he really likes him and eddie does his best to push his own feelings aside because that's what he's good at and buck needs him to be supportive, that he's being vulnerable and confessing something scary to him and eddie wishes he could be like that, too, so he tells him to call tommy even though eddie wants him to do the opposite, wants to be the one tommy kissed in the kitchen and took on a date

he's not lying, exactly, when he tells buck he also likes tommy but not in that way, because whatever buck feels for tommy can't compare to what eddie's going through. he doesn't know if his desire outweighs the shame, doesn't know if he'd be able to be like buck and jump straight into it with blind hope, he knows he'd never be able to talk about it tho. not for a long while. and when he goes home that night and he's laying on his marisol-free bed staring at the ceiling he gives himself permission to be fucking angry that buck gets to have what he wants so bad, lets himself be a shitty friend and wish tommy maybe also wants eddie the way he wants him, want him more than he wants buck.

in the morning he'll feel guilty about it, in the morning he will be the supportive friend buck needs. but tonight he wallows in his jealousy and his anger and his shame and if he comes from jerking off a little too hard with tommy's name in his mouth no one has to fucking know about it.